Part 12

"CENTRE BRIDGE, PENN.

"MY DEAR MR. FLETCHER:

"My remembrance of the trip is as follows: On August 10th, 1899, I was spending the summer at Brolles, on the border of the Forest of Fontainebleau in France, when you came to visit me and enjoy the forest at the same time that you were conducting some chewing exercises and planning an endurance-test on bicycle on the fiftieth anniversary of your birthday. You were quietly living then according to the regimen with which your name is now connected and I was pursuing the ordinary habits of life which are common to artists abroad. The test was not only to determine the endurance of yourself, but to furnish a contrast with ordinary conditions of nutrition. We were eating at the same table, with the same food available to each, and were taking about the same amount of physical exercise. We turned in at night at the same time, as people are apt to do in the country, and it was my custom to rise at or before daylight. This habit of early rising came natural to me from my farmer education and habitual practice, and yet I never could surprise you early enough to catch you asleep. My first thought on getting out was to stop under your window and chant the refrain, 'Mr. Fletcher, are you up?' in imitation of the catch-line of a popular song of the year. Frequently the click of your typewriter warned me that you were already at work, but you were always awake and ready for 'anything doing.'

"I was, at the time, thirty years of age and thought myself in good condition and strong even for a farmer's boy; had previously done considerable long-distance road-riding, including League of American Wheelmen runs, etc., in competition with the 'cracker jacks'; and, to be frank with you, thought the agreement to pace you on that particular day a 'snap,' and I expected to lose you in the woods before long.

"The day was perfect, rather warm, as I remember it, and with little or no breeze. Our start was made at 3.55 A. M. (arose at 3.30). Course selected: To Fontainebleau and thence across country to Orleans, about one hundred kilometers distant from Brolles. I considered Orleans the limit and fully expected to have you return by railway from there.

"We were running at the rate of twenty to twenty-two kilometers the hour, and from time to time I would look back for Fletcher, but he was always at the same place at my rear wheel. A puncture delayed us for some fifteen minutes, but when the great cathedral bell of Orleans struck nine we were already there taking our first food of the day, coffee and crescent rolls.

"We again started, after a short rest, down the Loire, always holding the pace of twenty kilometers or better the hour in spite of the undulations. We stopped occasionally for water and milk, a single tumblerful of which satisfied both the thirst and the hunger of yourself.

"To me, the ride, at about this period, became a grind, but Fletcher seemed to get stronger and stronger and occasionally led the pace at a terrific clip. My condition, as we neared Blois, became more than bad with cramps in the legs. I had to dismount but couldn't stand up, and for awhile, I thought they would have to carry me home. I appreciated the kind inquiries sympathetically made and oft-repeated by yourself as to my condition, but had you known, at the time, how I was cussing your healthy appearance and impatience to proceed, you wouldn't have bothered me so much with your sympathy. After a partial recovery and the slow ride into Blois, six kilometers away, I left you, taking the train back to Paris, you having decided to go it alone for the rest of the day and thus complete the test.

"The arrival at Blois was about 1.30 P. M. (170 kilometers--a little above 100 miles) and took about nine hours, including stops, to accomplish. The next morning we received your dispatch from Saumur, nearly another hundred miles down the Loire, telling us that the run to that point had been completed by 10.10 P. M. that night, and Mr. Fletcher returned the next day as fresh and as strong as I had ever seen him at any time during the summer.

"Starting the day following with wife and daughter for a bicycle ride through France to Switzerland I accompanied your party as far as Geneva, and the only thing I couldn't discover was how a man who ate so little could travel so far and seem never to get tired.

(Signed) "Very sincerely,

"E. W. REDFIELD."

"Sept. 17th, 1903."

TEST COMPLETED

The experience of the author on that eventful fiftieth birthday, as registered in the successive sensations, is worthy of record.

In starting out in the cool of the morning as the day was dawning, and speeding through the beautiful Forest of Fontainebleau, the feeling of exhilaration was indescribable. An hour or two passed before there was any sense of unpleasantness attaching to the steady grind of duty which led us to pass reluctantly by inviting spots and scenes without stopping. In the beginning there was the keenest feeling of pleasure in the mere movement, without any exertion, over and among an enchanting landscape. It was what one might call a birdlike sensation of freedom of movement which bicycling and skating, among the common means of locomotion, alone give.

Redfield did not let up on the pace and I was determined not to beg for respite. Between fifty and sixty kilometers of distance only had been made when I felt that the day was not propitious for an endurance-test, and I fully expected to be compelled to return from Orleans leisurely in the afternoon and evening by wheel with only a slight addition to the century-run of the preceding Fourth of July accomplished. Before Orleans was reached, however, all sense of strain passed, and second-wind and second-strength had become installed for the day. When I left Redfield at Blois I felt stronger than any time before, and as eager to kick the pedals as when we started in the morning and as one always is prompted to do when one is filled with surplus energy. I had no objective point and was guided only by tempting roads and favouring breezes. The river road down the Loire was most promising at first, but a head wind sprang up and made a détour the other side of Blois more tempting by argument of a fair wind that blew down one of the roads leading away from the river. For a time I made full twenty-five kilometers an hour, but the wind died out and I returned to the river road and reached Tours in time for the enjoyment of a magnificent sunset effect and a most appetising and satisfying table d'hôte dinner. Before dining I jumped into a tub and had a good refreshing dip and a vigorous rub which made me feel like going out to take a walk or mount my wheel again. My appetite for dinner was not large, centred on a salad richly dressed with olive oil, and was quickly appeased; immediately after which I mounted my wheel again and proceeded down the beautiful road towards Saumur. My ambition was here raised to complete 300 kilometers and the distance to Saumur just about filled that ambition. I rode leisurely for a time after dining and then gradually increased the speed to about eighteen kilometers an hour, which brought me to my destination a little past ten, with a feeling of sleepiness that invited to a hasty falling into bed, but with surprisingly little or no sense of muscular fatigue. My cyclometer registered a little more than 304 kilometers, or 190 miles; not much for experts, under the conditions, to be sure, but a revelation of possibilities to a man of fifty who had once, not many years before, been denied life insurance on account of health disability. This was worth more than millions of money to me; and no one knows how much it will signify to the human family when the knowledge of a truly economic nutrition is attained and established.

I was bright awake at daylight the next morning and had the impulse to mount my wheel and see how "fit" I was in consequence of my exertion of the day before. This I did, and rode eighty kilometers (fifty miles) before breaking my fast at nine o'clock. I believe I could have ridden as far that day had the conditions been favourable. My weight, on return to my balances at Brolles, was reduced two kilograms (nearly five pounds), but a generous thirst for a day or two, and a slightly increased appetite put the loss back again inside a week even while riding my wheel daily on the way to Geneva.

Since reaching Italy, and abiding in Venice, there have been long periods when no systematic physical exercise has been indulged in. Once, after nearly a year of physical inactivity, I took with me an attendant and made an average of seventy-five miles a day in the mountain districts of southern Germany for observation of increase of food requirement during hard work. Neither muscular soreness, nor muscular fatigue, except the periodical weariness of sleepiness, were experienced as the result of the sudden change from the most restful environment to strenuous activity; and herein lies a physiological question that is far-reaching in its significance. It would seem that Appetite, in its normal condition, assisted in its discrimination by careful mouth-treatment of food, guards the body from excess and keeps it always "in training." The later experience at Yale University under Dr. Anderson and Professor Chittenden showed the same immunity from muscular disability, and has brought the question to good hands for solution.

The author has voluminous data relative to his work, but it is not applicable to any other person. Each person is a law unto himself and no two sets of conditions are alike. Treat your food as advised herein and get surprising new experiences for yourselves, is the advice and moral of the story.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS

HEALTH, HARMONY AND HAPPINESS

Health, Harmony and Happiness are the natural heritage of man.

The human body is the most perfect piece of mechanism possible to imagine.

The human body is intended to nourish Health, maintain Harmony, and conserve Happiness.

* * * * *

The body machine is self-building or self-growing, self-lubricating and self-repairing.

A simple knowledge, only, is necessary for proper (preventive) care of the body machine.