71 years young Al on Tour des Trees

I think that I shall never see, a sight so lovely as ... as ... Al Gilens on a Pocket Rocket Pro! 'I have TWO Bike Fridays!' he is saying in sign language.

Al Gilens, photographer, author, and one of the fittest 71-year-youngs on the planet rode the 450-mile Tour Des Trees on his Pocket Rocket Pro. Here's his story about using his little wheels to help make the world a better, greener place.

From Al's Bio:

Al Gilens bikes for business and pleasure, frequently combining those pursuits. A travel writer as well as photographer, he has published articles as diverse as petroglyphs in Portugal, bears in Alaska, cycling in Israel, and waterfalls in Hawai'i. Al uses wide-range zoom Tamron lenses with his Nikon cameras, combining a minimum amount of weight and space in a kayak or fanny-pack, with a maximum amount of image flexibility.

Long days on a bicycle have become a part of Al's life since he was invited to do a story on an eight-day bike trip in Israel in 1995. He decided that he could only do the writing if he actually did the riding; that trip introduced him to the 'modern 18 speed bike.' Several years later he followed up a two-week kayak trip in Alaska by cycling from Fairbanks to Anchorage – six days, 510 miles, two days of snow, all in the second week of August! Lots of hours on the saddle are no longer so daunting.

Some of Al’s images can be seen at www.tamron.com, by clicking on Galleries in the Lenses section and Galleries in the Special 28-300XR section.

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THE WORLD AS WE KNEW IT was left behind. We were in darkness, the only illumination coming from the tiny light on each bike. The beam hardly pierced the darkness; in truth it disappeared within a few feet, sucked into the enveloping black. We couldn't see the tunnel's walls unless we pedaled into one. Within thirty seconds we had left the daylight of the entrance behind us, the invisible other end was well over a mile away. The four of us slowly pedaled on, guided by the faded yellow line in the center of the old road.

It was the fourth day of our cross-state adventure and we had entered the Sidling Hill Tunnel, abandoned over forty years earlier from the interstate highway system. A mile-and-a-quarter of seemingly infinite blackness was an alternative to another hill. We were no longer part of a group of cyclists pedaling through the glorious countryside of rural Pennsylvania; we were four souls slipping into an unseen universe.

Fifty four cyclists started out from Philadelphia on the 2004 Tour des Trees, an effort to raise funds for, and awareness of the value of urban trees. Our destination was Pittsburgh, 450 miles and two mountain ranges away; our goal was to raise $200,000 for tree research and education.

Holy moly ... 71-years-young Al gives a whole new slant on the term 'over the hill' - leaving a big wheeler somewhat his junior in his slipstream ...

Philadelphia Mayor John Street wished us well, assured us that the tree we had just planted on the Parkway would be well cared for, and police motorcycles escorted us along the river drive until we connected with the famous Schuylkill River Bike Path out to Valley Forge National Park - we were on our way.

The first day's travel was short but with a most wonderful climax - a fine dinner and a tour through Longwood Gardens, escorted by a staff arborist. The remarkable trees in this world-class arboretum, one of Pennsylvania's great treasures, drew a multitude of remarks - mostly ooh's, ah's, and "Will you look at that!" It was a proper start to our landscape adventure, visiting this "captive" woodland before spending our days in the open and beautiful vistas of the state.

On the following day we settled into a routine, found the folks who's cycling simulated our own, made friends with the good people providing us with snacks and drink from the support vehicles, and headed northwest to Pennsylvania's capital, Harrisburg. We also uttered a few oaths that all days should not be like this one - our "90's" day; the temperature was in the 90's, the humidity was in the 90's, and we were traveling 92 miles this day. Through the rolling cornfields and pastures of Lancaster County's Amish country, our brows dripped, our feet swelled, even our spirits were soggy by the time we pulled into the hotel in the heart of the city, where we were graciously provided with an air-conditioned lobby and cold water. We were quite a sight to the other guests that afternoon as we carefully wheeled our bikes through the lobby, into the elevator, and up to our rooms.

YOu too can have a body like this at 71 - Just git your butt on a Friday! Al showing he's in comparable form to a woman probably half his age or less ...

So much for the "flatlands" – on the following day we started climbing, up and over the Appalachian Mountains. The temperature went down, the road went up, we commenced four days of climbing during which we would cover 250 miles over two mountain ranges, and an accumulated altitude gain of over 25,000 feet. There would be many memorable ups and downs; perhaps the most dramatic occurred on the top of an Allegheny mountain pass. Pausing at a support van after a long and arduous climb, my attention was directed to a truck warning sign on the opposite side of the highway - Attention - 14% grade next 1 1/2 miles! Yes, I could attest that the hill would get your attention, whether going up or down.

On the following day we received what seemed like our appropriate reward, a four-mile continuous downhill of 7%. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release...grateful for good brakes, sound tires, and a bike that was true and steady at whatever speed I chose, I realized that my speed had ranged from 4mph to 44mph. I never had reason to question my choice of equipment, despite the questions of other riders and the querulous looks of passers-by.

My bike is unusual, being a performance bike that folds and packs into a regular suitcase. It has 20" wheels - six to seven inches smaller than the standard bike, and the geometry of its frame appears different from others. Its components, however, are just like any other fine bicycle.

The inquiries started early - How do you get up hills with that thing? What's the advantage of those small wheels? What do you do about flats? Isn't it unstable on high speed descents? Is that a folding bike? And occasional compliments - "Cool bike!" "Love the color." I've heard about Bike Friday but never saw one before." "I could take that in my RV and wouldn't need a rack."

I answered as usual, to this unusual group of cyclists who do everything from weekend riding to Ironman Triathlons. "The bike goes up hills just like yours; it's all in the gearing - only the engine can be faulted." "Yes, it folds...and packs into a suitcase; I don't have to pay for it on an airplane as you did." "It's actually more stable at high speed because it picks up less wind in the wheels than your giant 700mm's do."

It didn't take long after acquiring the bike for me to look at other bikes as being outsized, with such awkward-looking wheels. And it didn't take long before my fellow riders realized that my "Pocket Rocket Pro" model was equal to any bike on the ride. Now, if only there was a way to boost the horsepower...

And a little auxiliary horsepower would certainly have been welcome as we rolled up and over another hill, enraptured by the endless orchards, farms, woods and lakes of a state whose beauty is underappreciated. Another descent, another climb, another view, never tiring of the visuals as our legs dis-associated themselves from our minds, occasionally inserting themselves once again into our thought processes, reminding us that all is not peace and quiet with the muscles. We pedaled along the first cross-country highway in the USA - The Lincoln Highway - adding our own little bit of history to the road.

And then history caught up with us. We had our choice - over another beautiful summit or through a long abandoned tunnel. The group divided according to their preference but for me there was no question; I could go over a mountain any time but when would I have another opportunity to pedal through a tunnel over a mile long? It proved to be one of the highlights of the trip - remarkable considering there was no light at all!

We started the last day only fifteen miles from Pittsburgh, giving us plenty of time to admire the scenery and enjoy a magnificent overlook of the city nestled amongst its three rivers. Wending our way through traffic, we arrived at West Park, where the International Tree-climbing Championships of the International Society of Arboriculture - our sponsoring organization - were taking place. There we were greeted by several hundred spectators and participants, welcoming us to our destination and the fulfillment of our efforts.

We planted one more tree, leaving a living legacy in West Park. Many of the riders had the pleasure of meeting family and friends, sharing a few quick tales of the journey, relaxing under the leafy canopies of trees planted long ago. Others retrieved their bike boxes and began to dis-assemble their bikes, preparing for a flight home later that day. I was happy that my wife had driven from Philadelphia to be with me, surprised that our daughter had flown in from California to join us, and grateful that I could simply fold up my bike and put it in the trunk of the car.

At the opening event of the Arboriculture conference that evening, the remaining riders had the pleasure of presenting a symbolic check for $200,000; we could truly say that we had achieved our goals and each of us had done our best to make our world a better place in which to live.

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A Bike Friday is for life. Read about these super BF seniors who'll challenge you on the next hill.

For more information, follow this link http://www.tourdestrees.org.