Sometimes lost in the discussion over Nevada’s open spaces is the fact that the federal government owns 80+ percent of the Silver State and much of the remainder is land for mining, transportation (highways and trains), and ranching/farming. The ranching part has a rich history in Carson City with homesteads owned by the Parkers, Lompas and others. The old range still exists in Carson but is shrinking from development and Californication. Here’s some pix from the old Lompa Ranch area and purists will note that the new freeway extension is to my back as I took this pictures. Even so, these shots show why this space should be preserved for as long as possible.

(This is one of those “lots of pictures” posts…just because.)

On a good ride on a nice autumn day, I got to contemplating what kind of rider be the old Boomer here and decided more about what I ain’t than what I am:

I’ll never be the Lance or Levi of the 50-something demographic. They’ve dedicated their whole existence to something far beyond my ability to reach.

I will never be the conqueror of high mountains like Brent and Sandie. This asthmatic avoids situations where the air is thin.

I will never have the delts of a Fat Cyclist because I prefer to use a nutcracker to open walnuts and not my legs.

I will never engage in the cross-continental insanity like Jill though it would be a serious kick in the butt to try. However, it would involve sleeping outside without electricity. And Starbucks. Never gonna happen.

And I will never be a force for positive change in the community like Moser. (Dude, when are you running for office?)

What does that leave? Not a lot.

I guess I bike because I like to take pictures of the sky and pretty trees.

Maybe I’ll have an attitude adjustment down the road, but for now, things are good.

If you ain’t a relation, this may be a very boring post. If you are a relation, it could still be boring. You’ll live. :)

I was cleaning the garage today and found old family photos and some were in poor condition. I’ve been meaning to do some wholescale scanning so here’s the start. Corrections always welcome.

Elizabeth Nash Hume, Albert T. Hume, and Ruth Hume in 1941. Albert and Ruth are my grandfather’s parents. (Would Elizabeth N. Hume be the mother of Albert?).

Gertrude Dodge Henry in my great-great grandmother (this picture is from the 1890s).

And I think this is my great-grandmother Gertrude Henry Nevelle around the time she attended Stanford. By the way, the family legend is we’re related to Patrick Henry on the maternal line but you know how it is with families. Someday I’ll tell you about my father’s side of the family and our “relations.”

The big kid is Albert Hume and the small kid is my namesake, Robert Hume. The lad is about 2 years old here in 1910.

And this may be him again.

And here’s Professor Hume in his office at UNR in the 1970s.

More pictures to come down the road.

In 2008: 260+.

In 2009: 226.

Don’t need Atkins or Weight Watchers or South Beach. Keep it simple: exercise and eat right. And get off your damn butt. Nuff said.

This is the world’s most boring blog so let’s get the world’s most boring pictures out of the way.

The Bride asked me this morning where I was headed and I had a vague idea about a ride up Lakeview. As I was plodding up the V&T bike trail, I remembered I once mulled trying to ride around the five counties in the area. There was no way I could make it to Silver City because this was a lazy biking month for me, but four counties seemed reasonable.

And I did it and this was my longest ride to date but I’m wasted. The upside is today proved I can make the trip to Virginia City or Reno whenever I’m ready.

Lessons learned:

- Plan better next time and take the freaking Camelbak. Duh.
- Flat ground is God’s gift to bikers.
- Small saddle sores can quickly become big saddle sores.
- Gel packs and vitamin water got me through this.
- Advil and sunblock. Duh again.

Ride stats:
30.09 miles
2 hours 23 minutes
1,688 calories