September 14, 2014
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Arsenic and Old Mountain Bikers
My slightly hypochondriac mate reads extensively online, pursuing every article on health and science. A while back he read that rice contains high levels of arsenic and its consumption should be limited. I wondered aloud if perhaps the fact that we were eating Thai jasmine brown rice an average of a ton a week, was contributing to the fact that we both sported big, purple bruises on our appendages almost all the time. The slightest contact with a sturdy bush on the trail, nudging the gate open with the back of an arm, even grazing a door jamb accidentally, resulted in an immediate blemish that took weeks to disappear. Since we don't eat dead animal flesh, except for fish, our diet includes copious amounts of beans and rice.
Experimentally, I cut rice out of our diet, almost completely, for a period of several months. Voila! Both of us were noticeably free of unsightly port wine stains on our limbs. Anecdotal, no doubt, but it was a worthwhile experiment. Gradually, I've added some rice back into our diet but now I make a mixed grain pilaf, reducing the amount of rice in a serving. I try to get my fussy guy to eat quinoa but it remains stubbornly on his plate.
Tonight’s pilaf recipe called for wine and one thing led to another and here I am, blogging my besotted little heart out.
Southern California is sweltering through the last hurrah of summer. The thermometer on the back porch read 80˚ when I woke up at 5:27 AM. Clearly, if there was any mountain biking to be done, it would have to be in the mountains. We, Mike and I (Sally is backpacking at Mt. Whitney) loaded the bikes and headed for the hills. The temperature dropped encouragingly as we climbed, and by the time we reached the trail head at the Santa Ana River, it was 60˚. Perfect!
The section we rode today begins with a rocky, loose, descent with two small stream crossings. I hadn’t ridden this section of trail this year so I was riding tentatively, which is never good in rough terrain. Speed is always your ally when there are rocks, sharp and irregular, that can stop you dead at slow speed. (Why is it I always get sweaty hands when I write about this stuff?)
Mike was following me but soon found it was too difficult at my pace so he stopped to give me a chance to put some distance between us. For those of you who may not remember, Mike was the California State champion mountain bike racer (in his class), for three years in a row. Hence, I am unashamed of not being able to even come close to keeping up with his pace. His bike handling skills are legendary in these parts. Following his line is exhilarating and dangerous because he makes it look so easy. Fortunately, I can’t keep him in sight long enough to get too far over my head.
I soon found my stride and began riding like a real woman. Feeling at one with the earth and bike, I let it flow, carving turns, swooping through meadows of flaxen grass, and maneuvering through rock gardens. The mood was shattered when a small bird shot across the trail directly into my wheel.
I knew before I could skid to a stop, I had killed him. He lay in the trail, still alive but mortally injured. I placed him gently on the side of the trail and watched him expire. Mike rounded the turn behind me and being even more sensitive to the suffering of animals than I am, tried to console me.
As I continued down the trail the little bird weighed heavily on my mind and my pace slowed accordingly. We had seen a dead fox on the road on the way up the hill and the two events got me thinking about a recent story I’d read of a mountain lion attack. (I know, strange segue) A woman had been attacked while hiking with several other people. Here I was, alone on the trail (by now Mike had dropped far behind me to make repairs to his seat post) and I began to imagine how a mountain lion might launch from above me and break my neck as easily as my spokes had broken the bird. I got kind of creeped out and decided that I needed to get a grip.
My life was no more important in the long scheme of things than the bird’s was. I was more likely to break my neck riding while perseverating about mountain lions than I was to have it broken for me. Besides, what a great story death-by-mountain lion would make. My friends would be talking about it for years!
There was plenty of fresh bear scat on the trail but we saw no bears, mountain lions, or any predators that might have enlivened this story, I’m happy to report.
Comments (6)
When you mix grains for a mixed grain pilaf, you should certainly use quinoa. It is a natural choice. Flaxseed as well. But also, be sure to start with plenty of fresh ground ginger as well as ground peppercorns, fennel, and cilantro. Start by sautéing these spices lightly in olive oil. Follow these directions, and you may soon be hip enough to share my repast.
Dead Bird Caution is a close relative of the Dead Cat Bounce, a charming creature from Wall Street. They are both entirely deceptive. You can be sure that if a mountain lion had broken your neck on the trail, it might have perseverated very well. That is a ten-dollar word if I ever saw one. It surely would have eviscerated. It could well have been creeped out.
Now I have to go look up the significance of "Dead Bird Caution" and "Dead Cat Bounce". I just selected the graphic because it tickled my fancy. You always make me have to research and/or think.
I may yet become hip enough to share your repast but I will never be able to hold my own in a conversation at your table.
You and me both with the wild things committing suicide under tires and amid spokes! I've become death on wheels. I've added black rice to my diet and it is very pretty and has lots of fiber! We are also fans of the quinoa. I've been sneaking flax meal into things - works great in potato pancakes to increase the fiber without any noticeable change in taste or texture... since my husband doesn't like oatmeal I've been trying to do other things to get more fiber in our diet... I'm very happy to hear that the mountain lion didn't decide to take you out!! Ditto for the bear!
Flax seed is nice in 9-grain cereal too, slightly slimy. One can imagine it facilitating things just sliding on through. I'm lucky, Mike loves oatmeal. I think he eats steel-cut oats five days a week. I have a recipe for quinoa bread; have you ever tried it?
I did not know rice could be containing arsenic .However it was the basic food of many Asians. But you are not an Asian!
About the bird I do not like either killing animal, not at all. However we have to kill animal to eat ( in the animal proteins there are amino acids which are not in the vegetal proteins.. And fishes are also animal . I confess we are become a little weird : when we eat a steak do we think at the cow that has been killed? Food chains are cruel.
This being said I believe i would have had the same feeling after the dead of the little bird.. I hate to kill animal whatever it is.
Love
Michel
No doubt it's necessary to kill and my objection to eating animals isn't the killing of them. I think the industrialized way meat is raised and processed in this country is inhumane and unhealthy. When I was in Spain, I saw beautiful oak-shaded pastures where pigs were allowed to graze in relative comfort. There, I ate the cochonillo con gusto. I won't deny that it bothered me to think of that darling piglet whose life was ended before he even new the pleasures of oak-shaded pastures. Chances are the idyllic scene in Spain was not the whole picture, but I get the impression that Europe generally requires better treatment of animals and fewer antibiotics.
The accidental killing of an animal is always regrettable.
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