Freedom Leads West

One Month Off

2010-12-08T12:37:00.000-08:00

It's time to get back on the horse. After a 30 day leave of absence, I'm back in the blogosphere.

Here's a nugget of truth that could change your life:

Sylvester Stallone is in the boxing hall of fame, as of today. The world is a wonderful place.

I've had a weird month the last 30 days, and I can't really put my finger on it. It's been full of ups and downs; a lot of perspective shifts. I've felt a lot of clarity, and I've felt lost. I've been chasing some focus, but stagnating.

I may be spreading myself too thin; I may be ambivalent about what really drives me at this point in my life. I can't help but notice the stark contrast between my ambitions and my contentedness with the little pleasures of each and every day. I feel like this has been a recurring theme in my life over the last year or so, and I struggle with balancing these sentiments. I want to channel some of my ambitions and do something great, yet I relish the ability to enjoy the simple things in life with the people that matter most to me on a daily basis. I need to practice some discipline, and I need to determine where to place that discipline.

I've made a lot of decisions in my life, and I stand by the vast majority of them. Some of them were good, and some of them were bad. That being said, I'm confident that I've been able to learn from almost all of them, and I'm a better person for it. An old friend of mine passed away recently, and I can't help but contrast our lives since we last spoke. At one point we were in a very similar place, and I feel that the disparities in some of the key decisions we were making at that point in our lives has led us to the situation today. It's humbling to think that we could've just easily made different decisions at a few key points in our lives and ended up in drastically different places. My thoughts rest with his family.

***

The snow season is here, and I'm thrilled about it. I've committed to Squaw Valley USA as my home mountain for the season, and I'm excited to explore it this winter. It's a real mammoth of a mountain, and I can't wait to immerse myself in the famous lines that are all over the resort. I'm already feeling as strong as I was at the end of last season, and I'm thrilled to progress a whole lot more this season. The forecast for a deep winter (coupled with the unbelievable company of some of my closest friends) is exciting - it's going to be a great season.

Of the many famous local skiers and riders here, no one carries as much weight with me as Jeremy Jones. Big mountain Jeremy Jones. He's a living legend. And on my birthday, I got to follow him. On a snowboard. In person. Seriously - that was the coolest thing I've ever done. I tried to follow him, but I didn't get very far. On a high note, I've got a hero line for my season - if I can successfully ride just that one line this year, the year is a success.

I'm off to do some Ironman training.... what did I get myself into? Eric - it's on.

Snowfall and the Impending Season

2010-11-08T20:46:00.000-08:00

Steps are being made here - one by one I'm getting my feet on the ground. Professionally, socially, and personally. I've succeeded in securing at least 2 jobs and at least 2 season passes. I'm guaranteed the ability to snowboard every day this season as a result of my work and personal investment in my priorities. I've met new friends and started to further my career here as a fitness professional. Overall, I'm filled with a sense of accomplishment. I'm quite happy, and I love living with some of my best friends in the world. The snow is falling.

These next few weeks will be marked with angst as the big resorts bide time before they open for the season, but we've always got backcountry options. As long as Mother Nature keeps the storm window open, there are turns to be had. Moreover, local resort BOREAL has a few park runs up already. It's time to get progressive.

I already feel a sense of urgency - I intend on getting better this season, and I'm not sure how much time and energy I'll be able to put in in April and May. The impending Ironman in June requires some dedication, and I knew that going it. I just have to remind myself what I've invested in (financially, mentally, and physically). Worst case scenario: I cut the season short, and add impetus to coming back (or exploring a new mountain home) next winter. Decisions, decisions.

I can't wait to visit my parents next month, and I look forward to seeing Japan. I'm currently evaluating what options exist for me to spend some additional time there in the spring or summer of 2011.

We're currently sharing our home with Max, a friend from our Border2Border travels. I think it's wonderful to host him here, and I'm very glad that we've remained friends. We met on a beach in California that served as both of our homes that night. Random chance introduced us. Of all of the highlights of the Border2Border trip, the people we met and shared time with are my favorite.

Life is good, and I'm confident that you can make it great with some concerted effort and a will to find purpose. Impacting the world and the people around you positively should be a focus. I'm consistently trying to expand my influence in the world, and hope to contribute more every day.

Photos... As Promised

2010-11-05T17:15:00.000-07:00

Photos are above, as promised. I'm assimilating more and more every day here in Tahoe City, and I'm really starting to enjoy the area. I'm pretty confident that I'll be working my job of choice at Alpine Meadows and Squaw Valley, which is awesome. It's going to be a very full season. I'm making strides at the gym, and I'm looking forward to recommitting myself there next week (post-mountain job fair weekend). Our house is all here, and I'm excited to have a "family" feel. On that note - I can't wait to spend time with my parents and brother this New Year's in Japan. I'm counting my blessings.

New Homes

2010-11-03T15:26:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to settle into my new home here, and it's a very welcome process. The transition from a life of mobility (intrinsically linked to a certain lack of stability) to a more stationary situation highlights more than a few shifts in day-to-day life. I'm writing this entry sitting on my couch in my home, sipping tea from my coffee cup. I don't use "my" with ego, but with cause to identify that familiarity has a place in my life again for the first time (really) since last winter. Transition requires a lot of petty work: utilities setups, moving in, arranging and rearranging things around the home, and getting settled mentally (one cannot overemphasize this). Mobility never allows one to "settle" for more than a day or as little as an hour, and the chemical changes that occur in the body seem to go dormant. It's a bit of a jarring experience to stop moving. I can sympathize with marathoners who don't seem to know what to do after 26.2 miles other than run - your mind has to take a minute to "switch over". I'm settling in - slowly but surely. The Paul Simon record on my stereo and this cup of tea seem to be helping. As does the view of Lake Tahoe from my balcony.

My new home is shared with my dear friends Eric and Amy, and my new friend Katie. It's a two-story condo in the Dollar Point area of Tahoe City, CA, complete with 3 bedrooms, a lovely dining room, a full kitchen, and busts of a bear, a bighorn sheep, and an elk. And yes, we do have a view of Lake Tahoe from our 2nd story balcony. It feels like a home. I'm most excited about the fact that we're at the top of a hill, and (theoretically) when it snows a whole bunch I can snowboard from our doorstep to the bus stop and catch a shuttle to the mountains. I'll bet you can't do that.

Speaking of snowboarding, I've go 3 days under belt so far this season. 2 of them were in October, and I've already got a few new tricks in the bag this year. I've made some new friends riding up at the local park hill, Boreal, and I picked up a night pass for the season, ensuring that not a day will go by without snowboarding being involved this season (unless I decide against riding that day myself). I'm even more excited to know that there is bus service up to Boreal this winter, and that (as an employee of Alpine Meadows) I'll have a winter bus pass. Something about resort-to-your-house bus service just makes a winter resort town feel proper.

I'll be teaching my second class at A Sante Fitness here in Tahoe City tomorrow, and I'm excited to be working in the fitness community here. It's rewarding and motivating to surround myself with active people - especially with so many elite athletes in this community. I hope to build on my 2 classes per week throughout the season, and to hopefully start training this month. Lots to do - and 2 job fairs this weekend at Alpine Meadows and Squaw Valley stand to add to the workload. I'm ready for it, and excited to see what the weekend brings.

I feel like I've said "I'm excited for the weekend" or "I'm looking forward to this week" a lot recently. I'm very glad I can say that. Take steps to add excitement to your life - it's worth it.

First Entry From North Lake Tahoe

2010-10-28T13:53:00.000-07:00

The above photo is of San Francisco's Chinatown District, the below photos are of Lake Tahoe.

The whirlwind of the last few days has subsided a bit, and I've been awarded some time to write. It's almost uncomfortable to just be sitting here writing in a coffeehouse after all of the work I've been doing this past week checking boxes. Almost.... an espresso and granola are tough to make "uncomfortable".

I've arrived in my new home (at least until April) in Tahoe City, and it seems to be everything it has been hyped to be. The views are magnificent, the people are welcoming and refreshing, and the snowsports community seems to be on the leading edge. I've met more elite athletes in my 4 days here than I did all summer in Seattle. The gym I'll be working for this winter, A Sante Lakeside Fitness, is a great facility. They have everything I could want (except a pool) for the winter season, and an unbelievable training staff. US Ski Team trainers, an Olympic record holder, and a combined 50+ years of experience is a lot to walk into, and I hope to learn a lot from them.

I'm aching for snow to start falling not only to snowboard, but to get back to a steady work schedule. All of this serial vagabonding has taken a toll on my bank account, and I'm looking forward to seeing the numbers go another direction for a change ("up" would be nice). A hilarious sidenote of my employment-hunting travails - I scored a gig working the polls on election day (this upcoming Tuesday), only to recall that one of my 2 hours of scheduled work next week is on Tuesday, thus making working the polls impossible. At least my work involves riding a bike indoors.

Snow has fallen enough at high elevations to bring about opening day for a local park-oriented resort, and there's a good chance that I go riding on Saturday. (That was fun to type) I'm currently weighing the pros and cons of buying a season's night pass for that hill at the fair price of $129. If I go that route, I'm not at all worried about value - I'll probably ride 3-5 days a week until December. My worries are centered around the hit that my productivity will take at the gym (both my own training regimen and my efforts to build myself into a trainer there). Decisions, decisions.

I feel like I've been doing a lot of questioning lately, of my lifestyle and of my aspirations. I have an undeniable sense that I need to be doing more effective work toward my long-term goals. I feel like I need to more acutely identify my long-term goals. I'm enjoying myself thoroughly, but I can't deny that I feel like I should be more productive with my pursuits. I know I have the work ethic, but I feel as though I lack direction. Perhaps I'm spreading myself too thin; perhaps I just need to think about smarter ways to attack the roadblocks to my success. I can't help thinking that I'm contributing to my own lack of progress. I feel like I need to center my focus.

The jack-of-all-trades/master-of-none hat is getting old.

I plan on spending a lot of time in the next few months identifying what I want to do in the next few years of my life, and determining just what investment (time, money, resources) those goals will require. I'm very fortunate to be in a position to invest in myself, but I need to be absolutely certain that I can see that investment through to success, and that the end result is truly what I want. Purpose is a weighty topic.

I remind myself: life is good. I'm in a great place, with great people. These thoughts will find resolution. I'll identify what I want, and I'll find a way to get there.

A high note for the day: By signing up for Safeway's "Just for U" program, I was awarded a dozen free eggs.

Some downtime in CA... closer to winter

2010-10-24T20:40:00.001-07:00

Writing this from my friend Shane's couch in San Francisco, I feel fortunate to have friends like him (and his lovely girlfriend, Danielle) in my life. Consistent vagabonding has many pros and cons, and even more truisms. One of the most pervasive truisms inherent to my lifestyle is this: you are incredibly dependent upon the hospitality and generosity of friends and family, and you must be willing to accept that it won't be there at all times. Today I'm in the comfort of my friends' home - tomorrow I may not have a roof over my head. Beyond that follows a week of uncertainty before I move into my winter home in Tahoe City. I don't have an aversion to this situation, but I do admit that it takes a bit of will and a lot of willingness to accept the situation should it come to it (i.e. I have to be comfortable with camping in near-freezing temperatures in order to be comfortable with that possibility). Fortunately, I have the equipment to handle that possibility, along with the mindset to be comfortable with it. Who knows - maybe I'll be warm and comfortable in a new friend's home tomorrow night; maybe I'll be warm and comfortable (optimism) in my sleeping bag and tent.

The paramount point to take from all of this is that I am comfortable with my situation. It's an interesting one, I'll concede that - but I look forward to a little excitement and a little solitude. I have more food and survival comforts/necessities than some billion plus people in this world live with on a daily basis.

Tomorrow I head to Berkeley to meet my friend Katie for a morning coffee, then I'm off to Tahoe to meet with my future employer. Therein lies my motivation for heading up to my new home a week before I have one there - I'm anxious to get back to work. I'm anxious to insert some structure in my life. I'm anxious to apply some discipline. If I'm serious about maintaining a lifestyle that involves long-term travel, I need to be serious about getting to work when it's time to get to work. I know that if I spend the amount of time necessary to build my brand as a trainer in Tahoe City, I can be successful there this winter. I know that I can outwork everyone there, and I know what I can bring to the table. If I have to camp for a week to get my foot in the door and prove that I'm driven and capable, then that's what I'll do. Steve Martin has been quoted as saying, "To be the best at something, you must do so at the exclusion of everything else in your life." Words for thought.

Extrapolating on that sentiment, I am starting to get the very sincere urge to apply myself to something great. Something grand in scale. And no, I don't mean the Ironman this upcoming June (although that is indeed great and grand in scale, it's not what I'm referring to). Next July I intend on pursuing something big. In no specific order, my intrigue is focused on:

- international travel

- career building in the fitness industry/developing my brand

- recommitting myself to the music industry

I can't place my motivation yet, but it's there. I thoroughly enjoy the concept of aimlessly floating from resort winter to resort winter, but I want to keep it fresh and exciting. I want to attach value to it. And, right now, I feel that that dictates a different application of my time. Perhaps next winter I'm in a winter resort again, but I feel like I'm going to make it different. I may end up in (gasp!) a warm weather climate somewhere in the southern hemisphere. I have a lot of ambition in my heart, but I don't know where I want to apply it just yet. Some introspection is required. I need to invest in myself - and although the financial risk isn't as great as many other opportunities in this world, I need to be sure of how to go about it. I need to invest in myself knowing that I'm committed. My time and energy are worth more than my dollars and cents, and I don't intend on wasting either.

Pray for snow - I am.

Final Lap! Newport Beach, Encinitas, San Diego, and Tecate

2010-10-18T19:31:00.000-07:00

::Touting my own literary prowess::

The long-awaited, much-discussed pinnacle of writing set to signify the climax of the Border2Border event is upon us! Feast upon my following piece de resistance!

Okay, that may have been a bit excessive, but I'm in the zone. Something about biking a few thousand miles through 3 countries caters well to some enthusiasm. I'm going to try and focus here for a minute, though, and recount the last few days events in unabashed detail. Put your seatbelt on.

Picking up where we left off - we rolled out of Santa Monica with sightseeing in LA on our mind, and headed straight for the Sunset Strip and the famous Hollywood Sign. Sunset Strip was exciting to see - we rode right past the Whiskey A Go Go and the Viper Room (as rock and roll as it gets). We cruised along Hollywood Blvd. and saw a lot of the famous "stars" in the pavement, which was cool. Eric may or may not have posed for a picture with Chuck Norris' star. At the end of our ride down Hollywood, we were able to see the famous Hollywood sign up on the hills. Pretty quintessential LA sightseeing.

We headed south out of LA around the Peninsula, following Highway 1 past Venice Beach and through Palos Verdes. Venice is truly the ghetto-by-the-sea, complete with a prison-style beachfront showcased a rusted skeleton of the famous "Muscle Beach" and luxurious cast-iron public restrooms. Pleasant. The attitude gradually shifts from that to euphoric as you get into Palos Verdes. Pretty high end living around those parts, and it contributed to an enjoyable riding day. We hammered along 1 all the way through Long Beach and Huntington Beach, breathing in coastline riding for one of the last times this trip.

We made great time on the day (even with the sightseeing), and made it all the way to Newport Beach before the sun started flirting with the horizon. If you've never been to Newport Beach, it's fancy. There's a Bentley dealership across the street from the Porsche dealership. It's like that. Fortunately, the town isn't without its down-to-earth people. While refueling at a local supermarket we met a lovely local girl named Lindsey, who is a bit of a traveler herself. She's lived in Europe and Egypt - two places I personally have on my list as well. It was very cool to talk travel with her, and she seemed pretty excited about the whole TakeYourBike project. I think she empathized with our plight as homeless travelers, as she offered us a place to stay for the night. She and her roommates were very gracious hosts, and we ended up leaving Newport Beach the next morning with a very positive impression of the place.

With only 63 miles between us and our destination the following day in Encinitas, we took it easy and enjoyed the beachfront ride all day. We leisurely stopped in Oceanside and Carlsbad, and arrived in Encinitas just before sundown. We spent a few hours touring the town and enjoyed a coffee at a local shop; I'd venture to say that the town won us over even before we met our hostesses. Kelsey, Jerah, and Karene are some of the nicest and most life-loving girls we've met on this tour yet. Meeting them is another positive credit to Couchsurfing, a great non-profit organization that we've worked with on this trip. We spent our evening there skating around the neighborhood with Kelsey, and enjoying a bottle of wine and some pleasant conversation.

Rising in the morning, we realized that we only had 20 miles to ride to our San Diego destination, and decided to spend much of the day in Encinitas. We had a leisurely breakfast, skating some more, played beach volleyball (Chelsea and I won, and are retiring undefeated), and had an unbelievable lunch thanks to Kelsey's cooking skills. We left Encinitas reluctantly around 3 PM, but we still had an adventure to complete. Heading south to San Diego....

We arrived in San Diego after dark due to Eric and I's inability to ride in a straight line, and were greeted by our friends Jeanne and Kevin, who agreed to host us for the night. Kevin had to work, so we only had his company for a bit, but we enjoyed going out for a drink with both he and Jeanne. The bar of choice had a rooftop seating area, and you could see the waves crashing on the beach from our table. Pretty cool.

Rising the next morning, we woke with only one thing on our mind - Mexico! (note: we were so focused on our finish line, we forgot to wash our dishes from dinner the night before... sorry Jeanne and Kevin - we'll make it up to you!). We started riding in overcast weather, and it progressively worsened throughout the day, unfortunately. We started the ride in Canada in the rain, and it seemed fated to end in Mexico in the rain. We recommitted ourselves and pressed on - only 50 miles separated us from sweet victory! We rode through the eastern county in the rain all day, up and down, up and down. Our cyclometers told us that we were getting closer..... as we hit about 10 miles to go, a peculiar thing happened. I'm not sure what the technical term is, but I started to become overly anxious that we were so close. Thoughts of "What am I supposed to do now?" and "What if we can't cross the border?" and "What's next? Do I want to finish this?" started to enter my head. I've heard of a similar condition whereby marathoners suffer from depression and lackluster energy levels after completing their goal - after all, after you've accomplished what you set out to do, what's next? Where's the challenge? It was a very interesting ordeal to experience. I wrestled with the situation for what seemed to be an eternity, then: there it was. "Welcome to Tecate". I almost fell off my bike. Eric and I stopped for a victorious photo opportunity (above), and couldn't stop laughing. Something about finishing was absolutely hilarious. We had made it, but there was still one more box to check.

We rode down the hill into the town of Tecate to meet with Amy and Dyland and victoriously cross the border. Suspense was high, and we were all pretty interested to see what the hype was all about crossing into Mexico. After all, pretty much everyone we've met on this tour has cautioned us that it was pretty dangerous right now. We'd been unswayed by any of this the whole trip - plenty of things in the world are dangerous, and many of them are worth the risk. Moreover, we weren't going deep into Mexico - our destination was just over the border. How bad could it be?

Mom, you've got two options here:

a.) read all about the lovely sights Mexico has to offer here.

b.) don't read anything at all, and just pretend that Mexico is lovely, and that we had a great time there.

But, since you're going to keep reading anyway, just remember that we're all okay, and everything is alright.

Guess what? Mexico IS really as sketchy as everyone has told us. In California, they even sell Mexico insurance at the convenience store at the border. I'm just going out on a limb here, but usually insurance is for when you put yourself in a dangerous situation. As in "car insurance" for when you drive a vehicle that kills millions upon millions every year. As in "health insurance" for when you do stupid things like actionsports and jump off of cliffs for fun. As in "Mexico insurance", for when you (for some stupid reason) have to go into Mexico. Intense. But let's get to the story, shall we? First off, you can actually walk into the country. There's an undeniable feeling of lawlessness when you can casually stroll across a border with no one saying anything to you at all. Compared to the background check and 20 questions routine coming into the States, it was a little unnerving. We couldn't stop laughing about how easy it was to walk into Mexico. Absolutely ridiculous. Our laughter stopped, however, when a few local flew past us on the street riding fourwheelers. Weird enough on its own (the whole fourwheeler in traffic thing), we were put to even more unrest by the fact that they were wearing Kevlar bulletproof vests. That's the sort of thing that you don't really see that often. After they rode past, the whole situation didn't feel right. It became incredibly apparent that we weren't somewhere that we were supposed to be, and that the "rules" that applied just a few feet north of us had exactly zero bearing where we stood then. We decided as a group that walking the Tecate Brewery (just a few blocks away) was probably not the best idea, and settled on picking up our victory beers at a local corner store. Walking in, we felt a bit better (they had more Tecate than any store I've ever been in in my life - see above), but a general feeling of hostility was pervasive. We took the time to salute our trip with a cold Tecate in Tecate, but that was about it. After nearly catching the attention of local police (who, by all accounts, don't really adhere to much of the law), we decided that a mainline back stateside was in order. We met some fellow Americans who were headed back as well, and we all made our way to the border en masse. Getting back into the States was easy (in comparison to crossing back in from Canada), and we were glad to close the Mexican chapter of our story.

We all loaded up into the truck (yes, all four of us - Eric and I are allowed to ride in a vehicle now!) and headed back north to Encinitas. Our ride back was fairly non-conversant; I was trying my hardest to process what we had accomplished in the last few weeks. If and when I do sort all of that out, I'll let you know. It's pretty weighty stuff.

Our hostesses in Encinitas offered their home to us for the next few days, and we're recharging our batteries. A lot of tea, relaxing, and recovery is in order.

I'm pretty proud to have accomplished what we set out to accomplish, and I can't wait for the next big adventure. Does wintering in Tahoe count? We'll see....

I'm off to the Bay area for a few days to tie up a few things and secure our home for the winter, then it's off to Tahoe City to start work. Believe it or not, I'm looking forward to that. That, and snowboarding. Every day. Fall, snow, fall.

Santa Monica + Camarillo

2010-10-13T10:02:00.000-07:00

Our time in Morro Bay was very pleasant. Our host Ben and his (as he himself put it) "5 or 6 roommates" were all very nice people, and made us feel very welcome in their home. Ben is a fisherman, and even treated us to samples of his very own fresh-caught fish. A roof over our heads and showers rejuvenated the group, and we set out for the road once again feeling great.

Our destination was a stretch of coastline designated "Gaviota", which resides right where Highway 1 reacquaints itself with the Pacific. We rode through the day on some undulating California roads, and I will fondly remember the riding of this day as one of my favorite stretches of this tour. We arrived in "Gaviota" with about 30 minutes of sunlight to spare, and felt great. I use quotes to designate "Gaviota" because it would seem to me that it isn't really a town. Or a township. Or a neighborhood. There isn't even an exit off of the highway in the area, which (to me) would indicate an area not really worthy of being a named town on a map. Being a bit isolated with no real options for a place to stay the night, we got creative. We noticed a dirt feeder road that stretched away from the highway that appeared to be a sort of access road, and took our chances. With dwindling sunlight, what did we have to lose? Our longshot road snaked its way up the adjacent hillside to our salvation: a fire station. The firefighter community has been very hospitable to us, and we were quite relieved to find them here. They were as welcoming as we've grown accustomed to them being, and they offered us a place to camp for the night. They warned us, however, that we'd be competing with wind and rattlesnakes. We found a flat(ish) swath of land that was already home to a few short cacti (read:pillows), and set up our tent, all the while laughing about invading rattlesnakes' home territory. We arranged ourselves "comfortably" around the bulges in the floor of our homestead created by the resident cacti, and embraced the situation wholeheartedly. Then the wind picked up.... We all laid awake laughing hysterically as 20-30 mile per hour winds whipped at our tent and threatened to take our home to the sea for a few hours, then grew tired at about the same time as the wind. By 11 or so the winds had subsided, and we drifted off to sleep.

Fortunately for us, our home in "Gaviota" was south-facing, so we were treated to a magnificent sunrise over the mountains to the east. For almost our entire trip we've been witnessing magnificent sunsets but haven't been able to enjoy the sunrises due to the inherent directions of our travels. The singularity of our sunrise experience made this morning one to remember, and we got underway shortly thereafter.

Our destination for the day was Ventura, but we took some time to explore Santa Barbara, and I'm glad we did. We saw some great sights and met some great people. I couldn't take my eyes off of the mountains rising to the sky to the east, and my head was filled with thoughts of great training rides up the local hills. Eric would've killed me if I so much as suggested climbing any of them, so I'll have to go back to test my mettle another day. Two of the gentlemen we met in town were some fellow biketourers named Symon and Martyn from England. They're doing Vancouver to San Diego in an effort to raise money to aid the fight against Ewing's Sarcoma, a rare form of cancer. You can follow there journey here. We also stopped into Hazard's Cyclesport, a local bike shop of great reputation, and met Sergio, the man behind the legend. He's a very outgoing guy that lives his biking passion, and was a thrill to spend some time with. He even offered us some locally-made enchiladas. He and the rest of Hazard's has earned my business whenever I'm in Santa Barbara.

We rode the rest of the day on the Pacific Coast Highway all the way to Ventura, and arrived with some time to tour the downtown area. Ventura is one of those "hush-hush" surfing towns in southern California, and the energy there is very positive. We got so caught up in it that we lost track of time, and before we knew it the sun was setting. That being the case, we were forced to get resourceful and find a place to camp for the night.

I pride myself on being creative and extroverted, and this was a perfect opportunity to put those character traits to the test. I did the only thing I could think of, and for humor's sake I think I'll narrate in third person:

Chris walks into local coffeehouse.

Chris approaches table of 3 girls sipping coffee and opens with the line, "Hi, I'm on a 3-country bike tour, and we've run out of sunlight for the day. That being the case, I'd like to find a place to camp nearby. Could you recommend your favorite place to camp with 12 feet of this coffeehouse?"

The girls seemed casually amused, but collectively could only recommend campgrounds some 1200 feet away. When Chris suggested that we prefer to avoid real "campgrounds" (and such a ridiculous distance), they recommended that he approach their friends that lived exactly 27 feet from the coffeehouse and ask about camping in their lawn.

Chris sauntered over to the "Chateaux" (the girls had a name for their friends' home), and walked up to the front door to find it ajar. Brazenly, Chris entered the "Chateaux" and introduced himself with the line, "Hi, I'm on a 3-country bike tour, and we've run out of sunlight for the day. That being the case, I asked a few random girls drinking coffee across the street if they could recommend a campground, and they pointed me to your lawn. I felt it might be prudent to introduce myself before casually pitching a tent in your lawn."

Our new friends (and guardians of the Chateaux) replied, "You've got some guts to go about casually asking strangers for a home. That's cool. We've even got a tree fort in our lawn you guys can use. I'll turn off the sprinklers. You want to watch the Monday night game with us?"

Welcome to the wonderful world of vagabonding.

Chris x2 and David (who actually had a Tecate cape! - perhaps I can get one when I bike to the Brewery from Canada next week) turned out to be great people, and we had a blast staying with them (and watching the Monday night game). The world is a great place if you put yourself in a position to enjoy it.

We rose with the sun in Ventura and set out for Santa Monica. Before arriving at our final destination for the day, however, a detour was necessary.

It's been a focal point of my trip since I started planning this adventure, and today was the day to return to place of my birth. Camarillo, CA was a place on my birth certificate and nothing more until this visit, but now I know what it's like there. Returning felt great, and I feel as though I've accomplished something. We rode through the town in perfect weather, and I felt a real kinship to the area. I was a bit disappointed to not see a "Birthplace of Chris Cloyd" sign underneath the "Welcome to Camarillo" sign, but I've already emailed the mayor in an effort to correct this. We pedaled our way all the way to Pleasant Valley Hospital, where I was born. I took a minute to stroll inside and see if the doctor who delivered me was still there, but unfortunately he retired some time ago. The kindhearted lady at the reception counter said I looked good, and that I should come back after another 25 years so they can rest assured that I'm still in good shape. It was a neat feeling in the hospital and thinking, "This is the first place I was. EVER." It was also the only hospital I've ever been in that didn't feel suffocating and sterile. They even had murals on the walls inside. That's the way it should be.

We rode from Camarillo to Santa Monica, and stopped in Malibu for a quick lunch. Not a bad day.

I am writing this post from the comforts of our host and hostesses' home here now. Linda and Jeremy have contributed more than they know to the positivity of our experience here, and we look forward to exploring the area today. On the list are stops at Venice Beach, the world-famous Hollywood sign, and the Santa Monica Pier. After we arrived last night, we all enjoyed dinner together, and the TYB crew explored the 3rd Street Promenade afterwards. I could do that again for one reason alone: the Bellagio Sipping Chocolate. I can't even begin to describe this drink, but you could come close by using the words "liquid chocolate utopian pinnacle of modern culinary prowess". If that doesn't cut it, you can read about it here.

I'm off to rest my legs and read a bit before exploring the town, then it's back to the bikes tomorrow. On to Huntington Beach!

Catching Up From San Francisco ALL THE WAY to Morro Bay, CA

2010-10-07T22:57:00.001-07:00

I know it's been 4 days since my last update, but that's what happens when you're biking through a state park - no internet connection means no blog. Fortunately, the ride through Big Sur was worth the delay (for us, at least).

The last few days have been wonderful - to attempt to catalogue every emotion with words isn't within my realm of ability as writer. However, I'm a bit of an overachiever, and I'll try.

All my life, I feel as though I've been very blessed. Blessed to have a full, loving family. Blessed to know great friends. Blessed to have met a great many inspirational people. I express this without religious overtone - merely a sentiment toward the positive experiences that are the cornerstones of my lust for life. In the last few weeks, I feel as though all of the things that make my life so fulfilling have been magnified tenfold. I am thrilled to know that my family is excelling in their lives, and enjoying the new experiences before them. I am comforted to be exploring a new part of the world (for me) with some of my dearest friends. And I have met so many inspirational people.

Life is a complicated thing, and meeting people who have found their place in it is inspiring to me. Great or small - all of these people have found their spot. They are comfortable with their role in their work, their community, and their family. They're comfortable with their income, with where they choose to live, and who they choose to live with. These comforts cannot be overstated; they cannot be bought. And those truisms are what make them great (and elusive). I am filled with an unabated resolve to seek out these comforts in my life, and to find my place.

We left San Francisco optimistic - we had spent time with our good friends in town, and escaped with little damage done. The roads we would take to the south would take us to new friends, new sights, and the latter half of our tour.

We rode through the south of San Francisco in the morning - city riding at it's finest. Our route spilled us out into the countryside (if one can call it that), and we followed scenic rolling highways all the way to Santa Cruz. There, we stayed with some friends that we made at the Hardly Strictly festival in San Francisco. Molly and the rest of the housemates are all UCSC Banana Slugs, which is awesome. It was one of my goals this trip to meet a real life Banana Slug, and I met several. To clarify: the school's mascot is actually a banana slug. Awesome.

We left Santa Cruz refreshed, and headed toward Carmel with a passion. We rode hard, had our efforts were rewarded with the best farmer's market I've ever seen. They had a RIDICULOUS assortment of fresh fruit, including fresh avocados for 7 for $1. 7 for $1. Seriously. And they were so ripe that you could cut them with a plastic spork (we did). We loaded up on avocados, grapes, bananas, mangos, raisins, and strawberries - enough to last us a whole 2 days. From there we rode happily to Carmel, with a brief stop in Monterey. We had a great time in Monterey, and saw a lot of encouraging, bike friendly roads. Additionally, the view of the sunset from Sunset Avenue in Monterey, CA was everything it was cracked up to be.

Our stay in Carmel was highlighted by a number of things, but the first was the company. We met up with my friend Charlie (who, funnily enough, I had never actually met), who introduced us to our host while we were in town, Peterson. Both showed us a great time while we were visiting, and Peterson hosted us in his gorgeous home. When I say gorgeous, I mean it. His taste for eclectic furnishings and access to some of the best in the world (he's an importer by profession) made the house a real one-of-a-kind experience. Much of it was modeled after a Buddhist monastery, complete with an outdoor flame-fueled sauna and bath, prayer wheels, and all sorts of fantastic original art. We enjoyed his company immensely, and I thank him very sincerely for his hospitality.

We left Carmel with full bellies (Peterson knows his was around a kitchen), calm minds, and rested legs, which was a good thing. Ahead lay Big Sur, one of the most challenging (albeit beautiful) sections of riding on our trip. We tackled the first 40 miles or so after a scenic tour around Monterey and Carmel, including all of 17 Mile Drive and the Pebble Beach complex. Seeing that place with my own eyes was a real treat - I hope to come back and play the course sooner than later. Halfway through our day, it was the general consensus that an espresso was in order, so we stopped at the River Inn, which was recommended by our friends in Carmel. There we sat and enjoyed our espresso with our feet submerged in the river - they put lawn chairs out in the 4 inch deep river, which was quite the experience. To say it was serene is an understatement.

We knocked out the next 30 miles of our day without much difficulty, although the rolling climbs definitely took their toll. We reached Lucia around 5, which left me enough time to test my legs with a local rider's challenge. AJ, one of our new friends from Carmel, suggested that I try this climb if I really liked hills (I do, weirdly enough). He said it was a real test, and I agree. Nacimiento-Ferguson Road rises 7.2 miles up from Highway 1 at fluctuating grades from 6 to 15 (!) with a total of over 2,900 feet of elevation gain. Relentless. He said a sub 50 minute time was his best, and I was determined to see what I could do. After 70 miles and a good 3,000 feet of climbing already under my legs on that day, though, I wasn't sure of what I had in me. Regardless, I had Eric smack me in the face, and I was off. I attacked that thing from the start, then reasserted myself about 5 miles in and challenged the summit with everything I had. 42:09. Viva la victory. That night we camped just off of that deliciously evil road, and enjoyed some of the best starwatching in the world. Big Sur is a truly special place.

We rose early to a gorgeous view of the Pacific, and assaulted the rest of Big Sur with little trouble. We even enjoyed some flat roads (our first in what seems like weeks) on our way into Morro Bay, and are now resting at our friend Ben's here in town. Ahead lies the push to Los Angeles, and what can unavoidably be described as the twilight of our trip. We plan on soaking it all up, and enjoying every second of it. As a barista at a seaside cafe pointed out today, "With an oceanfront view all day, how can you not?"

San Francisco

2010-10-04T21:57:00.001-07:00

If you've grown tired of hearing different versions of the "So today I rode my bike for hours and enjoyed views of the Pacific" story, this blog entry is for you.

We've enjoyed 3 consecutive days in San Francisco thanks to the hospitality of our hosts Shane and Danielle. They're some of our favorite people in the world, and we're very fortunate to have them in our lives. I met Shane this past winter in Crested Butte, and we became fast friends. His lady takes good care of him, and I'm a big fan of her as well. You tend to meet good people when you travel, I've learned.

Our first day in the city was highlighted by riding bikes with some SFPD cops (who were clad in pink tutus and blasting "Get Back" by Ludacris on a portable stereo on their rack in support of a breast cancer walk going on), riding across the Golden Gate Bridge with borderline nonexistent visibility, and meeting up with our friends in the city. Although we didn't get the best view of the city coming into town, the ride in was undeniably a highlight. Moreover, we enjoyed a near-perfect day of weather today, and got in plenty of sightseeing.

San Francisco is a very eclectic town, and there's a lot of personality. I wanted to get a street-level perspective while I was here. I'm a big fan of social experiments, and on our second day here I reverted to one of my old personal favorites. When I was in Denver last year, I set out to find 6 places of interest in the city with no use of maps, cell phones, or GPS systems. The only tool I permitted myself was asking people for directions. It was astounding to me how much I learned about the city that I couldn't have from a map, and how many nice locals I met. I made new friends, enjoyed a Rockies game, and was even bought a beer. No map has even hooked it up with a beer before, I can assure you of that. Do yourself a favor sometime and try this exercise - it's fun to actually reach out to strangers. So I did the same thing in San Francisco yesterday. I left the apartment by myself at 7:30 to go get an espresso, and I started my asking the first person I came across where their favorite coffeehouse was. I was rewarded with a great americano at a shop I wouldn't have otherwise found. I then set out to wander the city with an ultimate destination of a bluegrass festival over 5 miles across town. I found all sorts of eccentric little shops, an art museum, famous urban art, fellow bike lovers, and some personal satisfaction. Well worth the detour. I ultimately arrived at the festival with about 32 seconds to spare until the first band I set out to see started. I enjoyed their (Austin, TX's Lucero) show reclining on a blanket in the back of the audience with the company of a very lovely lady. Not a bad morning.

The festival was an anomaly in the US - a free, city-supported festival devoted to music and not a lifestyle or a sect of music culture. It was a breath of fresh air to enjoy so many bands of similar yet discordant genres celebrating the music community in such an unbiased and genuine way. For my money (that I didn't spend on the free festival), Emmylou Harris stole the show.

Afterwards I meandered about the city for a bit and caught pretty cool world/jazz show, then met some friends fora few beers at Torondao, a beer-only bar in the Haigh-Ashbury District. I enjoyed a Bear Republic Racer 5, which was recommended by a new friend. Good stuff from a local CA brewery.

Unfortunately, our trip hit a speedbump overnight. A heroin junkie smashed one of the windows of our support vehicle and attempted to rob me of my life possessions (already down to 3 boards, 2 bikes, a few wheels, 2 suitcases, some records, 2 backpacks, and a sleeping bag). Pretty lame. Fortunately, the SFPD caught the guy before he could actually make off with anything, and impounded my car for safe keeping. The kicker: when the cops showed up the guy had taken a break from stealing to indulge in some of our Nutella. I've said it before in jest, and I'll state it with sincerity now: Nutella is the shit. It fuels my cycling ridiculousness, and protects my life possessions like a guardian angel. A hazelnut-cocoa angel that goes well with blueberry pancakes. In the end, all the failed theft cost me was some piece of mind, $211 for a new window, and a morning in San Francisco (I still had the morning, but most of it was spent at the SF central police station). I want to sincerely thank the SFPD for their work - it means the world. I'd like to also thank the would-be thief for being an amateur and failing miserably to steal anything other than our Nutella, and thank Nutella for being fantastic. Even the junkie that tried to rob me agrees.

The rest of my day was spent seeing San Francisco, enjoying a basil-pesto crepe, and listening to the new Jimmy Eat World record. It's quite good (so was the crepe). It's back to the road tomorrow, and my restless legs are excited. 80+ miles along the coast await, including a stop at Half Moon Bay and some great sightseeing in Santa Cruz and Opal Cliffs.

I need a shower, so I'm going to go do that. Then I'm going outside to play guitar. I've got it rough these days.

Above are the San Francisco photo additions, along with some overdue Napa/Sonoma shots. Enjoy.

Santa Rosa, Wine Country, and San Francisco

2010-10-02T12:01:00.000-07:00

The last few days of the trip have been refreshing. We spent some time in Santa Rosa meeting the local cycling community, we toured wineries and vineyards in Napa and Sonoma, and slept under the stars in Novato, CA. Today we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and are looking ahead to the ride into San Francisco over the Golden Gate Bridge.

In Santa Rosa, we spent a day wandering around the city, stopping in bike shops (the Bike Peddler and NorCal Bikesport are good people), talking to local commuters, and enjoying the Land of Snoopy. We even got to spend some time with Bike Monkey editor-in-chief Carlos Perez, whose magazine is the flag-bearing champion of the local bike scene. They're organizing and hosting the King's Ridge Gran Fondo - one of the coolest group rides in the country. We wish we could've ridden this year, but it didn't fit our schedule. Fortunately, we traced much of the route on our way into Santa Rosa. Moreover, Carlos recommended a great route from Santa Rosa to Sonoma that involved some pretty epic climbing (3,000+ feet of climbing over 38 miles). That wore us out pretty well, so we thought some wine-touring was in order.

We stopped in and toured Homewood and Hendry Wineries in Sonoma and Napa, and were treated to some great wine and some even better vineyard and winery touring. If you've ever had an interest in the complexity of winemaking, treat yourself to a winery tour. The synergy of chemistry, agriculture, and artistic touch that goes into winemaking is truly a craft to behold, and the experience of learning about it firsthand was a highlight of our trip.

The riding in wine country wasn't great - high traffic, headwinds, and poor road conditions dominated our day. That being said, the views and the experience were well worth the miles.

We stopped for the night in Novato, CA after a LONG day's riding (our "leisurely" day of wine-touring involved over 100 miles of riding), and found a comfortable little spot to lay our heads for the night. We opted not to set up our tent for the night, and slept under the stars. Fantastic.

Today we set out for San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge, and couldn't be more excited. We'll cross into the city with enough time to do some sightseeing (I'm going to the Ghiradelli Chocolate Factory, and no one is stopping me) and hang out with our friends in town. It should be an exciting weekend.

Anyone have any San Francisco recommendations for us? Places to eat? Things to see? Email me at chris@takeyourbike.org.

More Photos!

2010-09-29T16:37:00.000-07:00

You haven't blogged in 4 days!!!

2010-09-29T13:26:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know. More than a few of you have written me about my lack of blogging of the last few days. Rest assured that I have been living life to the fullest (and without internet access). My time has been spent cycling, meeting new friends, enjoying California sunsets (and night skies), leisurely sipping espresso, and trying not to live outside of the moment. In an era where social networking and being "plugged in" is the norm, it's a refreshing exercise to attempt from time to time.

Let's recap: 4 days ago we left Arcata, CA (and our new friends there) in search of the open road and some coastal cycling. Our travels took us through the Avenue of the Giants (one of the most visited redwood forests in the world) to Garberville, CA, where we met some new friends and enjoyed an absolutely fantastic time. We set out the next morning for the coast (!) and California Highway 1, riding along the Pacific Ocean all day. We rode until the sun set, and ended up in Mendocino, CA for the night. Fortunately we met a lovely girl that took us in for the night, and our stay there has cemented itself as a highlight of my trip. We rose early the next morning and enjoyed a hearty egg and potato breakfast, complete with fresh blackberries and huckleberries from our hostess' garden. The fuel served us well - we had a challenging 125+ miles ahead of us en route to Santa Rosa. After a gorgeous, sunshine-filled day of riding, we arrived at the gateway to California's wine country just after sunset. I am now writing comfortably from our host and hostess' couch.

Let's get detailed, since that's why you keep coming back to read, right?

Arcata is a kind-hearted town on California's northern coastline, and one that we were fortunate enough to stop in. We would've pedaled right by if our friend Max (whom we met the night before on the beach in Crescent City) didn't suggest we stop by. We did, and we couldn't be more excited about it. Within minutes of arriving in town we met our lovely hostesses, and immediately embraced the positive energies of this place. Their hospitality was more than we could've asked for, and we're all very grateful for it. They even had Michael Jackson chronological matrushka dolls - very rad. We spent our first night in town recovering our aching legs and sipping kava tea (highly recommended), and woke with a zest for life on our rest day. I ambled down to the local farmer's market with Simona and Jenny (one of our hostesses and a fellow couchsurfer), and enjoyed the wonderful and vibrant atmosphere in the morning. The variety and quality of the produce and the vivacious community contributed to a very memorable morning. The rest of our stay there was spent socializing, skating, and meeting new friends in the community. If you're ever in Arcata and need any bike-related repairs or products, check out Revolution Bicycle Repair in town. Great people. I'm going back to ride with them someday - count on it.

We left Arcata as enthusiastic about our trip as we've been yet - our time there was refreshing and invigorating. There's a lot to be said about the quality of the human experience in a new place. A little kindness goes a long way, and our hearts were filled during our time there. Moreover, our route out of Arcata took us through Eureka (home of some of California's most famous architecture) and the Avenue of the Giants.

I'm going to go ahead and reiterate: there's nothing I can say/write/do to convey the scale of the redwood forest, although I'll try (and the pictures will help). The grandeur of the place is beyond me, and the experience of pedaling through is truly humbling. We rode past some huge trees, we rode THROUGH some even bigger trees, and I climbed all over a fallen tree that was absolutely enormous. If you want photographic evidence, see above. During our ride, we met Clark, a fellow bicycling traveler. He hails from Norman, Oklahoma, and is on his own Pacific coast tour. Travel well, my friend.

We rode through the day and enjoyed the plentiful California sunshine until it started to fade over the Sonoma county hills - we spent so much time playing in the Redwood National Forest that we didn't make the miles that we were hoping for! With the sun setting, we pulled into Garberville, CA. Knowing no one, we stopped at a local cafe and asked a few folks about places to camp for the night. Fortunately for us, we asked a gentlemen named Russell, who offered us a place to camp on his land. Hospitality is abundant in California.

Russell and our other hosts and hostesses for that night are farmers, and live simply with a focus on human interaction, quality of life, introspection, and positive betterment of the world that surrounds them. Our time with them was very pleasant, and I learned a lot from all of them. In addition to some perspective insight and some great conversation, they introduced me to slacklining. I'm beyond interested in getting good at this new sport, and I intend on buying a slackline just as soon as I develop some expendable income. Check it out at slackline.com.

Pictures were not in the cards during our time with Russell and company - those moments are ours to keep.

We rose to another gorgeous California morning on Russell's farm, and enjoyed a fantastic breakfast of banana pancakes and some chocolate chai tea. Russell - I need those recipes.

We had our sights set for California Highway 1 and the Pacific Ocean, and two serious mountain passes separated us from our goals. I've done some cycling this summer, and have tackled some sincere mountains in Colorado and Washington, and these two climbs did their best to test my legs. I give some credit to the 4+ miles at 6-8% grade, and I give some credit to the thousand+ miles under my legs in the last few weeks. Hitting those hills fatigued was a challenge to say the least, but Eric and I soldiered on. A rewarding view of the Pacific was well worth the effort.

We rode on for the rest of the day with the hills on our left and the ocean on our right, as content as we could be. We stopped frequently to enjoy the moments that make travel like this so worthwhile, and finished our day in the sleepy town of Mendocino.

I, for one, am thrilled that we did. The town has an indelible charm, and we ended up meeting two lovely local girls that made the experience incredibly worthwhile. Elimah and Emily are two local girls of pure hearts and a genuine passion for living their lives, and we were thrilled to meet them. Elimah offered to host us for the night, and I can't overstate "host". She has a lust for cooking for guests - which work out for us mega-mile cyclists. I'm fairly sure that we ate most of her kitchen the night we arrived. As if that wasn't enough, she prepared an egg and potato breakfast for us, complete with blackberries and huckleberries we picked fresh from her garden. I wish we could've stayed longer, but our travels mandated that we hit the road after breakfast. We insisted that Elimah and Emily come visit us in Tahoe this winter, and now it's on the internet, so they have to come. See you girls this winter!

Pedaling out of Mendocino, we realized that we had a full plate - 125 miles to Santa Rosa. This is where it comes in handy to be athletes. The "bicycle tourist" caps were taken off, and the "fitness enthusiast" caps got some wear in the California heat. We hammered our brains out up and down (literally up and down - hills are plentiful in these parts) the coast all day, trying our best to enjoy the beautiful views despite the overwhelming amount of lactate in our legs. It was some of the most scenic riding I've ever been a part of, and not a day that I'll soon forget.

We rolled into Santa Rosa as the sun was setting over the local vineyards (there are plenty), and we stopped at the first supermarket we could find. Eric and I swore to each other that we would reward our hammering efforts with a tub of ice cream, which we did. 1.75 quarts of mocha almond fudge ice cream never met a quicker demise.

Now we're staying with our new friends Sheri and Cory and their pups, and the legs are getting a rest. We're going to take the rest of the day to recharge our legs and recuperate, then hit the town tomorrow morning and do some promotional work. Despite more than a few people hinting toward the lack of culture in Santa Rosa, I'm looking forward to seeing the place. I may go to the Peanuts and Snoopy Museum, too.

Update: Due to a shift in our schedule and a lack of exuberance in my legs, I won't be attempting the King's Ridge Gran Fondo route tomorrow. I've been swayed by my time in California, and I know that I'll be back. That being the case, I'm going to save the ride for a time when I'll have fresh legs and an enthusiasm for some sightseeing. One can never have too many reasons to travel, in my opinion, and I'm already looking forward to coming back and tackling that ride.

On to Napa and Sonoma, and some vineyard tours. I can't believe that we'll be touring Napa and Sonoma day after tomorrow. Isn't that what wealthy people do - tour wine country? I thought we were homeless vagabonds? Oh, yeah - you don't need to be rolling in cash to live the good life. Go out and grab it.

Arcata, CA and then some..

2010-09-25T12:51:00.000-07:00

Our legs are getting some much needed rest and our hearts are being filled with even more gracious hospitality from some new friends. We spent the night in Arcata, CA after a gorgeous day of riding from Crescent City.

Our ride featured a lot of time on 101, with a foray onto the Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway. That stretch of road (the parkway) was the highlight of my trip thus far. Riding through a redwood forest is an experience that I can't even begin to describe - the energy in those trees isn't quantifiable, and the atmosphere is truly otherworldly. I've included some photos with this post, but they don't even begin to do the place justice (noticing a trend with my recent posts?). The sheer scale of the trees and the serenity of that place is something I'll not soon forget.

The rest of our ride was fantastic, and the weather has been steadily improving every passing day. As I write this from our hostesses' porch in Arcata, there isn't a cloud in the sky and the temperature is hovering around 80 degrees. Even better, the forecast shows nothing but positivity for the next week from here to San Francisco. That alone makes me smile.

We head out tomorrow to Leggett, CA via the Avenue of the Giants - a true redwood forest. Our hostesses have confirmed that we're in for a treat, and I'm brimming with excitement. Thus far, this adventure has been unbelievable. The sights, the hospitality from new friends, and the fresh perspectives have been much more than I could have ever anticipated.

California seems to be a very special place.

Be sure to check out our video updates at takeyourbike.org, and on our YouTube channel for some additional perspective on our trip!

The Oregon Coast into CA!

2010-09-24T10:11:00.001-07:00

Wow. The Oregon Coast from Port Orford to California is ridiculous. A kindhearted woman that we met in Gold Beach mentioned that it's the most photographed beach in the country, and with good reason. We stopped so much it took us 5 plus hours to cover 55 miles. Fortunately, that resulted in a lot of good photos. We've been sleeping on the beach every night next to a bonfire, and morale is as high as it's ever been. Arriving in California boosted spirits even more, and we're excited to keep exploring. We met a fellow traveler named Max yesterday - he was camping on the same beach with us last night. We wish him all the best in his own travel, and hope to cross paths again.

I've got a lot more to say, but I'll let the photos do the work.

If that's not enough, check the video updates on www.TakeYourBike.org

No Eye Candy Today

2010-09-22T08:45:00.001-07:00

I'm going to start with an apology - I left my camera outside and am enjoying my coffee just a bit too much to go get it now. Rest assured, when the photos do go up tonight/tomorrow, you'll know it was worth the wait.

The Oregon coast is ridiculously beautiful - if we stopped to take it all in every time we turned and saw some jaw-dropping scenery, we'd still be riding. It's that good.

We were blessed with near-perfect weather all day, and we didn't take one minute of it for granted. It's a real treat to be dry and (relatively) clean, and we're very grateful. Spending a few days in the rain really reminds you how pleasant a clear day can be.

Our 93 miles yesterday were some of the best of my life, and I'd turn around and do it again today if I could. Fortunately, the alternative is 81 miles south on the same gorgeous coastal road to Port Orford, OR. I'll let you know how it went in a few hours....

Keep posted on TYB.org for video updates and some additional photos, and let us know how you're doing! Email me chris@takeyourbike.org and say hello - I'll pass the love on to the rest of the team.

Also, if you haven't checked out our swag yet - go to www.takeyourbike.org and take a look at our extensive line of fashion apparel. By "extensive" I mean we have shirts and wristbands. You'd look good in them - we do.

The Oregon Coast is One of the Most Scenic Places in The World

2010-09-21T11:38:00.000-07:00

If you keep a life goals checklist (and you should), add bicycle the Oregon coast to it NOW. Seriously, this is some of the best scenery I've ever seen. Every turn is a gateway to a new panorama worthy of a postcard, and the roads are fantastic. I'm enjoying some of the best riding of my life.

Yesterday was a day to remember as well, rewarding our 103 miles from Portland with a beachfront campsite and PERFECT weather all day. We said goodbye to our new friends Alisha, Jordan, Savannah, and Kathy and rode out of Portland under sunny skies. The roads out of town were primarily busy main thoroughfares, but with a very conspicuous lack of precipitation and fresh legs they were very enjoyable.

We rode through Oregon wine country all day, all the while enjoying sights of vineyards, mountains, and valleys. With no rain, our only issue was a coastal headwind that blew defiantly in our faces all day. That being said, when the direction the wind is blowing is your primary complaint for a day, it's a good day.

With the coast in our sights our 3rd century of the trip didn't even bother our legs, and we arrived at the 101 with the sun still shining and the skies still dry. It was FANTASTIC.

Arriving in Lincoln City to a sunset was one of the biggest rewards I've ever received for anything. Since the "work" for the reward was flawless bike ride, I'd say we had a good day.

We camped on the beach and had a spirit fire to celebrate dry weather and our first day on the Pacific Coast bicycling highway. Falling asleep to waves crashing after a day of cycling is my zen.

Highlight: today is Eric's, my cycling partner for this trip and dearest friend, birthday. Happy birthday, brother.

Portland!

2010-09-19T12:53:00.000-07:00

Our rest day in Portland (the first of two as we we wait for the rains to pass through and clear our way for the coast) was highlighted by a walk though the Hawthorne District, vintage clothing and antique shops, a PHENOMENAL americano, some great art, the quirkiest donut shop I've ever heard of or seen, and some delicious pho.

Our "host family" of Alisha, Savannah, Kathy, and Jordan live in a quaint little house on the outskirts of the Hawthorne District in southeast Portland with their dog Jack(son). Actually, according to their Wifi connection, it's "Jackson's House". They've been more than hospitable, and we're very grateful. I'm writing this entry from the comfort of their home, and I'm full of delicious blueberry pancakes that we contributed for breakfast (for the family). I'm listening to a Jose Gonzalez record. Life is good.

The Hawthorne District is an arts district in the soulful part of Portland (that statement is based off of nothing but the personalities of our hosts and the awesomeness of the surroundings), and is apparently sustained solely by secondhand stores and antique shops. It's very cool. It'd be easy to bleed rock and roll if you had access to this kind of style every day - you can see why there is such a vibrant arts and music scene here. We stopped in to browse in a few shops and found a lot of cool apparel and trinkets. I almost bought a Hall and Oates LP. Eric almost bought a military jacket. Amy almost bought every purse/umbrella/girls' accessory she saw. Then we remembered that we're all homeless gypsies. C'est la vie.

My personal highlight of the day came when we strolled past a cafe that had an original Banksy piece on the outside wall (disclaimer: Banksy hasn't taken credit for the piece, but he hasn't denied that it's his, either). If you haven't checked out his art yet, do. Cool stuff. The cherry on top was the perfect americano I was served inside. I love a good espresso drink, and this was one of the best I've had in some time. I may go back today.

The group highlight of the day was undisputedly our stop at Voodoo Doughnuts, which was recommended by our hosts. Quirky dosn't really cover this place - they serve all sorts of weird doughnuts (they were cited for health code violations last year after adding a Nyquil-filled donut to their menu) and have a very unique style about the place. In addition to serving doughnuts, they offer civil unions conducted by a legitimate reverend on site. I thought this was a joke on the menu, but a couple was getting married when we walked in. Seriously.

The photos above give you an idea of what they're working with.

We ended our day about town with a heaping bowl of pho at a local Vietnamese restaurant, and it hit the spot. Something about the Pacific Northwest - they do pho right out here.

We're taking an extra day here to let the storm system pass though and clear our way to the coast and the Pacific Ocean. Tomorrow, we set out for Lincoln City, and a night's sleep on the beach.

I can't deny the feeling that the real adventure begins tomorrow.

Rainier to Portland!

2010-09-18T22:42:00.000-07:00

Today we woke to more dry weather (!) in our tent in Rainier, OR. The forecast didn't look too promising last night, so we set our alarms for 6:30 in hopes of getting some miles in before the rain started falling (again).

That plan didn't work out, but we were able to get our tent broken down in dry weather and clean up before our ride (as clean as you can get using a gas station sink). Moreover, although it didn't stay dry for us all day, it wasn't exactly pouring either. Compared to much of the last few days of riding, today ended up being quite manageable.

We rode the 53 miles into Portland without interruption (other than one flat tire) and only two quick stops (to fill up water bottles and refuel with some some Bear Naked granola bars), and got in just after 11. It was nice to get to our destination early in the day and have plenty of time to take in the city and enjoy ourselves leisurely.

Unfortunately, the weather got progressively less pleasant as the afternoon wore on, and most of our activities were postponed. We made the most of it though with a family lunch at a salad bar restaurant that was fantastic. We took our time there and enjoyed a nutritious meal, coffee, and ice cream. The rain can't keep our spirits down!

Our post-lunch destination was the home of our new friend Alisha, who I met on Couchsurfing.org (a great site if you haven't heard of it). She's offered her home (and her roommates as well) to us for the weekend, and we couldn't be more grateful. Their generosity has given us a great launchpad to go out and meet some people/promote the TYB cause in Portland.

Rochester to Rainier

2010-09-18T22:41:00.000-07:00

Yet another day of waking up in the rain...

Either we offended the powers that be, or we're just paying our dues. We spent the first few hours of the day in our tent, waiting out the rain and listening in vain to the drops of precipitation falling on our ceiling. Fortunately, we were extended a tremendous amount of hospitality by a local church in Rochester, WA and had a place where we could comfortably wait out the storm.

We gave it until noon, and with the weather as light as it had been all day we set out to make a dent in our riding. We're getting pretty good at riding in the rain, and knocking out a few miles in less than ideal weather didn't bother us.

After about 20 miles in the drizzle, things started to clear up. Our spirits lifted, blue skies shone overhead, and optimism started to prevail. It's funny how simple of a pleasure dry weather can be - and how overlooked it is from the comforts of home. This trip is sure to teach me a lot about myself and about the way I view life, and from this point on I'll be sure to never take pleasant weather for granted.

It turned out to be a great day for riding with some great scenery in the Pacific Northwest. The precipitation held off for the rest of the day, which was extremely pleasant.

We rode all through the day toward the Oregon border, with the feeling of progress that comes with completing a state's worth of riding as our motivation. Biking through Washington is a pretty big achievement, and we were excited to taste that accomplishment at the border.

Fortunately, our solid pace throughout the day brought us to the Lewis and Clark Bridge (crossing the Columbia River into Oregon) Longview, WA with about 15 minutes of pure daylight to spare. Unfortunately, I'm an idiot and thought I had "smarter" directions over a different bridge that was "up the road" and would take us "right into a great place to make camp for the night". As Wikipedia would so eloquently point out later:

The Lewis and Clark Bridge is the only bridge crossing the Columbia River from Washington to Oregon anywhere between Rainier, OR and Astoria, OR.

Oh, how that information could have served us well. Instead, we followed my magical secret directions on a 22 mile sightseeing trip around Longview (well, it would have been sightseeing if it wasn't dark out). We rode through the dark for over an hour, with me insisting all the while that we were on the right track. My directions did work - they took us right back to the same bridge we stood in front of some 75 minutes earlier (in the daylight). With no lights and a sense of recklessness, we tackled the bridge at night (sorry Mom). It worked (although we were less than thrilled to ride on the shoulder of a main highway cluttered with debris in the dark), and we made it to Oregon safe and sound. Lesson learned: use the tools at your disposal. Going into this trip, I was dead set on leaving the day-to-day directions to physical map-checking and word-of-mouth directions. I learned today that it's not worth risking our safety rolling the dice like that, especially when we have turn-by-turn directions at our fingertips via the blessing/curse of cell phones. I'll be struggling to find balance with the technology input to our route-making, but I'll be content to not put us in a precarious situation again.

Thrilled about setting our tent up in dry weather, we went to sleep happy and comfortable. My favorite night's sleep of the trip so far.

More Photos... and then some.

2010-09-18T22:37:00.000-07:00

Photos from Olympia and Rochester

Sorry for the delay - internet has been elusive! We're safe and sound in Portland now, and I'm blogging from the dry living room of our new friends Kathy, Savannah, Alisha, and Jordan. More to come!

Olympia onward!

2010-09-16T15:02:00.001-07:00

Today started with a pleasant breakfast and espresso on Matt and Zach's porch, and a whole lotta sunshine. We said goodbye to our new friends, plotted our day's route, and headed southwest toward Bay Center, WA.

On our route today was a stop at the Mima Mounds, which was recommended by our friends as a must-see. We pedaled our way toward the Mounds, but took a wrong turn (again) which added a good 16 miles (again) to our day's route. We're really, really good at getting lost on bikes.

We eventually found the Mounds, and they were a pretty weird sight. Apparently caused by glacial erosion, the mounds are a sea of undulating rises and drops that stretch as far as the eye can see. It's pretty alien-looking.

Unfortunately, a few minutes after the Mounds we hit our second rainstorm of the trip. The rain kept falling for the next 30 miles or so, and we decided to stop into a gas station in Oakville, WA to warm up and dry off.

We consulted the clerk about our route to make sure we were still on the right path, only to find out that the next turn we had planned out was onto a gravel logging road. Ouch. Not something we wanted to tackle on bikes. We were presented with a tough choice - backtrack about 15 miles and take a detour toward our original destination, or to head south on a new route toward Portland. Adding miles in the pouring rain didn't seem all that appealing, so some improvisation was in order.

We stopped in Rochester for the night and enjoyed a great dinner of ham and eggs courtesy of Dylan's skills over a griddle. We went to sleep feeling full, happy, and (relatively) dry.

Our new route will be taking us closer to the Centralia-Chehalis Trail, and is much more of a direct route to Portland than our original. We decided to set up camp for the night outside of Rochester, WA and try and attack the remaining 108 miles to Portland when the weather clears. Given that it's STILL RAINING (going on 25 hours now), I feel like we made a good decision. Hopefully the rain stops soon and we can hit the road - we're anxious to get back to pedaling.

Update: We made it to Chehalis, WA, and I'm blogging from "At Home On Main Street" - the most hospitable place on earth. Thanks SO much to Jene, Kasi, Vicky, and Sue!

Seattle to Olympia!

2010-09-16T15:01:00.001-07:00

We woke up in in Seattle with full stomachs and a great night's sleep (thanks Kelley!) and set out for the Bremerton Ferry. Unfortunately we took our time getting out of home base this morning and despite flying down the waterfront trail as fast as we could, we missed the ferry by about 30 seconds. With an hour and 10 minutes to kill, we decided to pal around downtown Seattle and make the best of the free time with some sightseeing. We rode by Safeco Field (home of the Mariners), Qwest Field (home of the Seahawks), the Space Needle, the Seattle Art Museum, and Pike Place Market. It was a great hour of urban riding and sightseeing, and (this time) we caught our boat on time.

The ride on the Bremerton Ferry has been one of my favorite things in the world since I was a kid. The views from the boat, the cool wind on the bow, and the feeling of transportation are all a lot of fun. Knowing that we had a good 65 miles of backroads riding ahead of us along the Olympic Peninsula made it all the better.

We started our ride day with a quick stop for a coffee in Bremerton and double-checked our directions; then we were off. The riding along route 3 on the Olympic Peninsula was gorgeous, and we got some great views of the water along the way. We even rode past a chainsaw carving artist's shop that had all sorts of great work out on display.

Our riding took us to Shelton, WA, where we stopped in for a drink of water at the Olympic Deli. There, we were fortunate enough to meet Alice and Lyon, who are on their own tour from Seattle to San Francisco. They're riding for their own cause, raising money for Posada Esperanza - an immigrant women and children's support home in Austin, TX. They're great people, and they're riding for a great cause. You can follow them on their blog coastingnow.blogspot.com.

We left Alice and Lyon in Shelton and pressed on toward Olympia along some more great roads in great weather, arriving in Washington's capitol city around 5 o'clock. The ride took us right by the capitol building, which is perched above a lake and is quite the sight.

We met up with the Capital Cycling Club for a social ride, which was a lot of fun. Blaine and the rest of the riders were very supportive of what we're doing, and that means a lot to us. Of course, the ride was about 30 miles long, and that pushed our total to 100 miles for the second day in a row. We're earning it - that's for sure!

We left ride and went to refuel and warm up, stopping into a Borders bookstore for some warm coffee. There we met Elizabeth, who made us some great espresso drinks and was super supportive of what we're doing. If you're ever in Olympia, stop by and say hello - she's a rad chick.

Hopping back on our bikes, we rode up the street to find our new friend, Matt, who offered us a place to stay for the night. To our surprise, we arrived to a house full of bike enthusiasts, many of whom play on Han Polo and the Tusken Raiders, an Olympia-based bike polo team. They're good people, and we had a lot of fun spending the night talking bikes and playing music. I even went out for a bike ride (yes, another one) with them around midnight, which was a blast. They're playing in a bike polo tournament in Vancouver this weekend - best of luck to them.

What a great day.

Photos to come soon!

Day 2 and I'm back in Seattle...

2010-09-13T23:39:00.001-07:00

In hindsight, Day 1 of the tour put a lot into perspective. We started in a leaky tent that we threw up in the dark, rode in the rain for 5 hours, and ate bagels. Today, we woke up in a perfectly pitched tent in new friend's cow pasture, rode in PERFECT weather for 7 hours, and ate freshly made muffaletta sandwiches. Weird, huh?

Life is full of surprises, especially when you meander about the US on a bike. Our new friends in the Hawken/Norris family sent us off this morning after a great night's sleep in their cow pasture with about 47 lbs in sandwiches, watermelon, and wine. I love that family.

We rolled our way into the Swinomish Indian Reservation, which was a highlight entirely because of an epic high five Eric and I both received from a real Indian on a real Indian reservation (it's not called a "Native American Reservation" on the signs, so I'm not going to be politically correct, either).

After a few great miles in the sunshine in farm country, we met up with Amy (our lovely support team director) and wolfed down some muffaletta sandwiches. After 50 some miles, they tasted like buttered lovin'.

I stopped after that to grab an espresso at Caffe D'Arte in Marysville, WA, and was very thankful to have Sarah (or Sara?) take care of the expense. That was sweet of her, and I appreciate it. Canada to Mexico or not, it's still very flattering to be bought a cup of coffee. I felt like an attractive girl for a second, or at least what I think attractive girls feel like, being bought stuff all the time.

We also got "lost" today (translation: we're bike geeks and like to add miles to our rides) and our total mileage went from a planned 78 to a grand total of 105. That makes 12 centuries for me this year. Count em'. Kobe.

After snaking our way all the way to the north Seattle area, we hopped on the Burke-Gilman Trail and chatted with Heather Wireman, a lovely girl that works for Precor. She's a full-time bike commuter, and unfortunately couldn't join us for our awareness ride today due to a marathon training schedule. As a triathlete who is dumb enough to have signed up for an Ironman next year, I understand wholeheartedly. Train hard, Heather! In addition to meeting Heather, it was great to see so many people outside getting their fit on today. Good work, Seattle.

Last but not least, I want to give some shoutouts to our friends at Bear Naked and the Montlake Bicycle Shop. They've been super supportive of what we're doing, and none of this would be quite as pleasant without their support. Thanks guys - we love you.

And special props to the Love Sack girls - go get that bike and start riding! You look great in those wristbands.

Right now I'm eating some fresh baked "cookies". Check out that photo. You can taste a whole lotta bad for you. Thanks Kelley!

On to Olympia via the Bremerton Ferry tomorrow.

First Day of the Border2Border Tour!

2010-09-13T21:28:00.000-07:00

Well I'm lying under the stars (actually it's the roof of our RIDICULOUS palace of a tent, which is under the stars) as I write this, and I don't have a cell phone or the internet. What I do have is a renewed sense of community with my world, a full belly, 80 miles and 2 countries under my legs, and my closest friends around me. Although, at the start, today had less than optimal conditions, things couldn't have gone any better.

We woke up in our rain-saturated tent pitched haphazardly in a gravel lot in the Surrey Athletic Complex in Surrey, BC, Canada with less than a good night's sleep. Something about the uncertainty of ninja camping (camping with no permission, reason to be in that particular spot, or any sign that you were coming or were there when you're gone - practiced by vagabonds, gypsies, adventure travelers, and indie rock musicians the world over) in a foreign country, in the rain, on gravel doesn't add up to quality rest. Rainstorm and ominous beginnings aside, this was our start.

We hurriedly packed our tent up in the rain and wolfed down some breakfast before first light (again, not the best night's sleep, so we were up early), and we were off for the US-Canadian Border. A few gratuitous "We're in Canada!" shots in front of signs with "km/h" and French writing on them slowed us down, but we were at the border pretty early in our day. The border stop was fun (more gratuitous photos - this time in front of the "Welcome to the USA" sign, and getting our passports stamped), and I celebrated with a cup of coffee stateside in Blaine, WA.

I was very much looking forward to the day's riding because I have ridden it all before, and I was eager to show Eric these roads. The persistent rain beat on us for the entire morning, but we made progress all the way through Ferndale, Bellingham, and Fairhaven before lunch, and enjoyed some breathtaking sights of the bay along the way.

We started up the Chuckanut climb (one of the big obstacles in our way today in terms of challenging terrain), but we agreed that attempting it soaked through with no feeling in our toes wasn't a good idea (again, today didn't start with the most ideal of weather) . That being the case, we stopped at the firehouse at the base of the climb to try and warm up for a bit before tackling our big climb. That specific firehouse was being manned by Ty and Sabrina, who couldn't have been more gracious hosts. We were treated to Seahawks football on TV, a dryer for our clothes, good company, and a place to rest our feet for a bit. If you're ever in the Bellingham/Chuckanut area, stop at the Whatcom Country Fire Dept Chuckanut Station and say hello. And please give Ty and Sabrina my best.

Enthused by our new friends (and by the fact that the rain had faded to a drizzly mist) we hammered out up to the top of Chuckanut to enjoy the view. Every time I get there, I'm blown away by that view.

Descending into the Skagit Valley, we cruised along comfortably until we passed an alpaca farm. Yes, an alpaca farm. I can't even begin to explain what runs though your mind when after hours of cycling in the rain you get to exclaim, "Hey - look! Alpaca!". For those of you who don't know what alpaca are (we didn't), they're a relative of the llama. Kinda weird animals to spot while on a cycling trip in Washington. Of course, we stopped in to learn more about them, and were treated to some great conversation with Walter and Lois, the owners of the ranch, and to a tour of the gift shop. If you ever want an alpaca sweatervest, I only know of one place to get them.

Pressing on, our next stop was Deception Pass. It's a state park on the mainland of Washington and Whidbey Island, joined by a visually striking bridge. The area is one of my favorite places in the US (I haven't traveled enough yet to say "the world") to watch a sunset.

The sun having bid us goodbye for the day, we shifted our priorities toward finding a place to build our home for the night. We asked about staying in the state park - no go. We asked a shop clerk for suggestions - no go. So I set out in search of a good spot on my own two wheels, and stumbled across a sign that said "Parking Here". That sign was the gateway to a grass lot, and that was enough for me. I biked back to the rest of our team and had them follow me back to our haven for the night, optimistic that I had solved our problem. We all agreed that we were in legitimate enough place, but were worried about the fact that it was obviously private property, Our worries were rationalized about 2 minutes later, when a young lady wandered up with a "Who are you?" look on her face. Fortunately for us, she happened to be one of the nicest people I've ever met. Her name was Alicia, and she is one of the many wonderful members of the Hawken/Norris family. They not only offered us a place to stay for the night in the form of our predetermined campsite, but they invited us into their home like family. Much of their family was in town for a huge celebration, and the afterparty was still in full force. We had a great time meeting everyone, and on our way out we were graciously offered more food than we'll be able to eat in the next week. One of the nicest families I've ever met.

Update: On second thought ( knowing Eric and I), the food will be gone on Tuesday. I'll keep you posted.

It turned out to be a fantastic day, and one that I couldn't have scripted any better. I'm incredibly fortunate.

When you want something with all of your heart, all of the universe conspires to help you make it so - Paulo Coelho

Here We Go

2010-09-10T09:37:00.000-07:00

Family is in Seattle (Eric and Amy got in yesterday), and the countdown is on to the Border2Border ride. We shove off in less than 2 days.

I'm excited beyond words to ride the 3,000+ miles, and I'm looking forward to making a difference in the bike community. If you believe in what we're doing and would like to support the TakeYourBike project, and love your help. You can help by:

- checking out our site and giving me some feedback on what you like/don't like

- telling your friends and family about the TYB project (especially your bike-geek friends and family!)

- ride your bike for at least one commute this weekend (it'll be worth it, I promise)

- pick up a shirt or wristband from our store at takeyourbike.org. All of the proceeds from sales go to rider support on the tour, and with 3,000+ miles ahead of us, every little bit counts.

Hope everyone is having a great weekend!

Coffeehouse Revelations

2010-09-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in a coffeehouse in Fremont, Seattle, WA, USA a few hours ago, thinking about my current situation in life, and I came up with the following summations:

- I am very grateful for my freedoms and my privileges.

- I have very few regrets in my life, and those that I do have are rooted in things that I have done, not things I wish I could have done. This is in stark contrast to 99% of the population, who, unfortunately, regret not having acted on their desire to do things in their lives.

I leave in pursuit in another of one of my life goals in one week, and I'm very eager to start this new chapter in my life.

Transitions

2010-08-31T14:14:00.000-07:00

I'm finished with my time at Gold's Gym and Rain Fitness (for the forseeable future), and it's time to focus on my immediate future. I'm very thankful for my opportunities at those gyms this summer, and I was fortunate enough to do some good work with some good people, learn a lot, and have some great times.

Less than 2 weeks until we leave on the Border2Border ride - get excited. Check out all of the details at www.takeyourbike.org and see exactly what I'll be up to through November.

Also, we're selling TYB shirts and wristbands now (the eStore will be up and running today) - if you'd like to support what we're doing and look good doing it, shoot me an email at chris@takeyourbike.org and I'll see to it that you're taken care of.

I'm looking forward to 10 days with good friends here in Seattle (I can't believe I'm leaving again), and overwhelmed with the excitement of my new adventures this fall and winter. Onward and upward.

Riding Bikes

2010-08-27T11:35:00.000-07:00

I'm riding more this weekend, and you should, too. Check out some of the cool stuff that has been going on at www.takeyourbike.org and www.officialtakeyourbike.blogspot.com

Then go ride your bike! It's good for you...

My First Triathlon

2010-08-24T09:59:00.001-07:00

Yes, I know - it's a little ridiculous that I'm writing about doing triathlons. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I've hated running for a lot longer than I've loved cycling. Moreover, it's a little weird that I'm just now even remotely interested in the sport, given that my dad raced pretty seriously for much of my childhood (and yes, I know that my lifestyle quickly approaching "I might as well just join the Navy" similarity with my father's...)

So here's the breakdown: because I saw an out of shape woman with an Ironman tattoo on her leg (and was subsequently infuriated that, despite me being fitter by leaps and bounds, she wore the "cooler athlete" crown at that soiree), and because when I called all of my athlete friends one of them thought that it might actually be "fun" (thanks Eric), I signed up for the 2011 Coeur D'Alene Ironman Triathlon. Dumb, probably, but I need to prove that a.) I'm a cooler athlete than that one lady and b.) when I tell my body to shut up and do what I tell it to, it will listen. What better way to accomplish those things than by running a 140.6 with just this one triathlon under my belt (so far). Side note: I actually signed up for the Ironman before I signed up for this past weekend's sprint tri. I'm a weird guy.

For those of your not in the know, an Ironman triathlon is composed of a 2.4 mile open-water swim, a 112 mile bike leg, and a 26.2 mile run (yes, a full marathon at the end.) Back to back to back. The winners times are usually under 9 hours (think about that for one second - it makes no sense). My goals are (in no specific order):

- survive the swim (I'll elaborate on this later)

- ride a sub-5:36 bike leg (avg. 20 mph or better)

- finish.

- finish upright and coherent enough to talk with the volunteers at the finish line and hug my mom (you're coming, right, Mom?)

- finish in under 12 hours (this may change as I get more involved with the training process this winter)

- beat Eric (hey, one of us has to finish faster than the other, and you're nuts if you think I'm going to concede defeat before we even toe up at the start line. We're athletes, remember?)

So, to recap: I'm signed up with an Ironman next year with my friend, and I've got this one tri under my belt. What did I learn at the race this past weekend?

Well, I am awful at competitive swimming. I mean I'm aggressively bad. Fortunately, I have lots of time to get better, and I'll be spending 2 months training with my dad (I should hope that during his storied tenure as a competitive swimmer he picked up a few things that he can contribute as advice). I had one of the worst swim times in the race, and breast-stroked my way to the shore after blowing up in the water. If I swam even an average time, I would have gotten top 5. I suppose that's why they make you race all 3 disciplines. I got by in this shorter race, but I need to learn how to swim more efficiently, more effectively, and more under control by the June 2011.

I can ride my bike fast. Although I didn't get the goal time I set for myself, I didn't take into account how wrecked my body would be coming out of the water. It took me a good 5 minutes on the bike for my muscles to shift into gear and for me to actually get up to race speed. It was a pretty weird feeling to have my muscles just not work. I gained a lot of respect for what makes triathlon harder than just swimming, cycling, and running in that moment. I did have the 3rd fastest bike time in the race, but the two guys that beat me came in first and second overall and rolled up to the race with $10K+ bikes and Ironman finisher's jackets on. So (sorry, mom) screw them.

Although I still don't "enjoy" running (I've yet to think "Let's go out for a run!", and still think "Let's go out for a ride!" 1,367 times per day), it's something that I'm better at than I thought I'd be. My aerobic fitness from cycling crosses over well, and I ran a respectable 5K at the tri.

Final results: 10th overall and 3rd in my age group. Pretty cool considering it was my first one. I even won a wine glass for placing in my age group (photo above).

The other photos above are of the race venue (pretty, huh?), my race number, and my friend Mark's dog, Charlie. She's a sweetheart.

I've got a much more acute awareness of what this IM is going to take, and I'm looking forward to seeing just how strong of an athlete I can become this winter/spring. After all, isn't IM triathlon the "ultimate human endurance test"? (Their words, not mine.)

If you know of a more ridiculous athletic event, other than this (which I'm doing next Sept.), let me know. I'll play.

RSVP+

2010-08-17T11:50:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was easily the most epic cycling undertaking of my life. What was originally meant to be my "victory lap" riding weekend of the season here in the PacNW (funny how things change, isn't it?) turned into an endurance test of (for me) monumental proportions. 384 miles in 3 days, with the last 171 miles solo.

Seattle to Bellingham, WA on Friday and Bellingham to Vancouver, BC on Saturday were a part of the RSVP (Ride from Seattle to Vancouver... and Party!), an annual event hosted by my friends at the Cascade Bicycle Club. Myself and 1300+ of my closest friends departed Seattle on Friday morning with Bellingham in our sights, some 105 miles of gorgeous riding away. On our way we passed through a number of small Washington farming towns, saw a bit of the coast, and had a great time. As I mentioned earlier, this ride is usually a pretty low-key undertaking for most riders - the distance is respectable but the pace is usually kept to a social level. I don't even think we averaged 18 mph. The low key pace and relaxing vibe was a thrill for me, as most big rides I've done this year have involved some masochistic pacelining and caution-to-the-wind sprint climbing. After some great sightseeing and a lot of free Clif bars, we all arrived in Bellingham around 4 PM.

My cycling buddies and I all went out for Mexican in Bellingham, which was pleasant. Afterwards I met up with some of my more youthful compatriots for a drink and some socializing, but after 100+ miles of riding in the hot (yes, hot - 90 degrees and rising) weather we were all pretty spent. Within about 15 minutes of getting back to our host's place pretty much everyone was knocked out. I'd like to thank my host for supplying me with a place to lay my head on this night - it was a great alternative to ninja camping.

ninja camping (noun): stealth camping that usually involves 1-2 people and a tent ambling into a forest, the back of a secluded parking lot, the backyard of an under-construction house, or other low-traffic area and sneakily spending the night under the cover of darkness. Utilized to avoid financial expenditure on lodging or campsite reservation fees.

After a 5 AM alarm in Bellingham, I met my cycling buddies for a ninja breakfast (similar to ninja camping, but involving the acquisition of free continental breakfast from a hotel at which you didn't stay) at nice little hotel outside of downtown Bellingham. Over coffee and embroidered waffles ("embroidered" probably isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind - the hotel's logo was imprinted in the surface of the waffle) we discussed the ride ahead and the allure of riding into the Great White North later that day. Canada in our sights, we rolled out of the hotel at 6 AM for the "start line" of today's leg of the ride.

Saturday was a little different than Friday in that our group started faster and split up fairly early in the day. It was clear that a few of us had some fire in our legs, and by about mile 20 4 of us had separated ourselves from the pack. I didn't mind - everyone was enjoying the ride at a pace that they chose for themselves, and that's what matters. The 4 of us with the accelerated pace rode on ahead, and enjoyed a great day through northwestern WA and British Columbia. Passing through the border on my bike was a highlight - my first ever multi-country bike ride. It was so much fun, I think I'll do it again (twice) this fall...

Some great sights (including downtown Vancouver) and some quick miles later, we arrived at the finish line at about 12:30 and commenced the celebration with our fellow riding buddies. We were among the first 30 or so riders in, which pleased me - not only because of the honor, but because it was crazy hot and sunny outside, and I was thrilled to be off the bike, throw my feet in the pool, and enjoy a Canadian beer.

The whole afternoon/evening was very pleasant, and we capped it off with some all-you-can eat sushi. Probably the most wholesome dinner I've had in a long while.

This is where it gets a little ridiculous. So I had plans to hitch a ride back on Sunday with my friends Steven and Brittany, who originally planned to camp up in Canada on Saturday night. We planned to meet up Saturday after dinner, camp, then drive back to Seattle on Sunday. Unfortunately, they had some other obligations pop up, and pulled out the week before the ride. With my new situation featuring me being "stranded" in Vancouver, having my bike with nothing holding me back, I decided there was only one option: ride back.

Let's clarify this: the best plan I could come up with was to wake up around 4:30 AM, eat breakfast, then ride by myself from Vancouver, BC to Seattle, WA. 171 miles. In the same heat that forced us to ride fast and early the day before. Only on this day my ambitious goal was to arrive in Seattle at 5 PM - I had prior obligations in the form of a kickball tournament that started at 6. So....

Somehow (this happens when you hang out with bike nuts) I convinced 2 other people to sell their bus tickets and ride back "with" me. Unfortunately, they were nowhere near as fast as I am, and I knew that our partnership was destined to be a brief one. I must say, however, that it was very exciting to know that some other people thought this was a good idea, and it gave me great confidence. We rode together for about 15 miles, then parted ways. They arrived in Seattle some 5 hours after I did, but I heard they had a great time, and I'm very thrilled about that.

So 15 miles into my 171 mile trek, I was solo - just man, machine, and the road. Just how I meant it to be. This ride was an exercise in mobile meditation - a test of will. If I accomplished my goal pace, it was to be an 11+ hour day in the saddle. That's tough to do with support and friends at your side, for those of you not into cycling. I honestly don't know anyone personally who has tackled that kind of ride aside from ultramarathon athletes and bike-touring legends. I don't have the ego to throw myself into that elite group, but I'm apparently ambitious enough to give that kind of ride a shot.

It was absolutely incredible. The views were fantastic (I planned a different route that took more of the coastline down than our route up did), and the serenity was unmistakably profound. I learned a lot about myself on Sunday, and I found a lot of perspective. I pushed my body to the limits, and it held up. After a long ride down the NW Washington coast back through Bellingham, I took a right up to Deception Pass, shot down Whidbey Island, took a ferry to Mukilteo, and rode the last 20 miles on comfortable local roads in the Seattle area. I arrived back at my car with 13 minutes to spare on my goal, with an average speed of 18.8 mph for the day. I'm pretty proud of that, considering that my legs had 2 long days under them already this weekend, and considering that I did all of the work on my own (if you ride bikes seriously, you know what a big difference a team makes). I think I'm ready to tackle the whole coast next month.

The whole weekend was a tremendous success - no injuries, no flats, no mechanicals, and nothing negative to speak of. I did get a pretty mean sunburn, though - check it out in the slideshow in the post below. Enjoy!

RSVP Slideshow

2010-08-17T11:35:00.001-07:00

My September and October

2010-08-10T22:40:00.000-07:00

Pretty cool, huh?

September 12, 2010

Sumas, British Columbia, Canada to Lake Cavanaugh, WA

about 66 miles

Our first day! We're going to start the day in Canada with a cold Canadian beer (after all, we're bookending this tour with a Tecate in Tecate) and a few miles in the great white North, then head south to Lake Cavanaugh in Washington state.

September 13, 2010

Lake Cavanaugh, WA to Seattle, WA

about 75 miles

Some more pretty riding in rural Washington, all funneling toward the Emerald City. We'll be leading a group ride in Seattle in the evening.

September 14, 2010

Seattle, WA to Olympia, WA

about 82 miles, including the Bremerton Ferry

This day starts in Seattle with a morning ride to the ferry dock and the always-pleasant ferry to Bremerton. From there we'll be riding the peninsula to the state capitol in Olympia. We'll be leading a group ride in Olympia.

September 15, 2010

Olympia, WA to Bay Center, WA

about 80 miles

We'll be riding through the rolling hills of rural Washington toward the Pacific Ocean, and starting our first of many miles on US 101. We'll be camping at the Bay Center Campground.

September 16, 2010

Bay Center, WA to Jewell Meadows, OR

about 74 miles

Today will mark our first sighting of the western coast of America - we'll be laying our eyes on the Pacific Ocean in Long Beach, WA before crossing the Oregon Coast Highway Bridge to Astoria, OR, and our second state of the trip. Our day continues past Astoria into the Catsop State Forest and Jewell Meadows.

September 17, 2010

Jewell Meadows, OR to Portland, OR

about 70 miles

The City of Roses! Our 5th day takes us from the forests of Oregon to it's capitol city. We'll ride from Jewell Meadows to the capitol building in Portland, and lead a group ride in the evening in Portland.

September 18, 2010

Rest Day/Awareness Ride Day in Portland

Although we won't be putting a dent in our touring miles, we'll be leading at least 2 group rides in Portland and doing some promotional work with a few local shops and clubs. Come join us!

September 19, 2010

Portland, OR to Lincoln City, OR

about 93 miles

Our legs "fresh" after a down day in Portland, we'll be knocking out 90+ miles for the first time in our trip today. We'll be heading west all day in search of the Pacific Ocean, arriving in LIncoln City and spending the night on the beach. We may be leading a group ride in Portland first thing in the morning - keep posted!

September 20, 2010

Lincoln City, OR to Winchester Bay, OR

about 97 miles

Even more miles! Inching toward a single-day century now.... Today's ride is simple: take the Pacific Coast Bicycling Highway south while looking at the Pacific Ocean all day. If you don't like good scenery, this isn't your kind of bike ride. If you like jaw-dropping postcard views all day, then come join us.

September 21, 2010

Winchester Bay, OR to Port Orford, OR

about 93 miles

Well, after waking up on the beach after yesterday''s ride, we assume that we'll be into doing pretty much the same thing. So we're going to stay on the coast and take 101 south to Port Orford, enjoying more views and great roads along the way.

September 22, 2010

Port Orford, OR to Klamath, CA

about 105 miles

High five! Our first single-day century of the tour also takes us into our third state, California. We'll be staying on the Pacific Coast Bicycling Highway all day, crossing into California about 2/3 of the way though our day. Camping on the beach is still the accommodation of choice, and tonight's venue will be Flint Ridge.

September 23, 2010

Klamath, CA to Eureka, CA

about 73 miles

We'll be sticking to our oceanfront riding+forests theme, enjoying both the Pacific Ocean and the giants of Redwood National Park today, before ending up in Eureka, CA. We'll be sure to explore some of the famous mansions and architecture the town is known for while we're there.

September 24, 2010

Rest Day/Awareness Ride Day in Eureka

Going to rest our legs and spread the word with the friendly locals of Eureka - we'll be leading a group ride this afternoon.

September 25, 2010

Eureka, CA to Leggett, CA via the Avenue of the Giants

about 88 miles

Well, this has all of the makings of one of the highlight days of our tour. After our "rest" day in Eureka, we'll be heading inland to the Avenue of the Giants - one of the most popular natural attractions in the world. Trees bigger than houses? Why yes, thank you.

September 26, 2010

Leggett, CA to Point Arena, CA

about 90 miles

If there's a way to one-up the natural beauty of the Avenue of the Giants, the ride on California State Route 1 all day might just do it. We'll let you know. Want to see for yourself? Come ride with us.

September 27, 2010

Point Arena, CA to Santa Rosa, CA

about 82 miles

Another gorgeous day riding the Pacific Coast Highway in California to on of the biggest cycling towns in the world, Santa Rosa, CA.

September 28, 2010

Rest Day/Awareness Ride Day in Santa Rosa, CA

We'll be leading some group rides and meeting some of the local cycling population in Santa Rosa - come say hello!

September 29, 2010

our own King's Ridge Gran Fondo

103 miles, about 8,500 feet of climbing

Some of us will be retracing the 2009 Gran Fondo route (yes, just for fun) while the rest of the team will be enjoying an additional day in Santa Rosa. The King's Ridge Gran Fondo is local pro Levi Leipheimer's home ride. We can't make the event this year, so we're setting out on our own ride. It's going to be awesome.

September 30, 2010

Santa Rosa, CA to Napa and Sonoma, CA

about 70 miles

All of this cycling has made us thirsty, so we decided on a detour day out to California's fabled wine country. Nothing like a few vineyard tours to relax those aching muscles...

October 1, 2010

Sonoma, CA to Muir Beach, CA

about 61 miles

A nice short day is on the calendar for our first day of October - after numerous vineyard tours the day before, we'll probably be glad we've only got 61 miles to go today! The day's ride ends on scenic Muir Beach, CA in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. Another night spent sleeping on the beach....

October 2, 2010

Muir Beach, CA to San Francisco, CA

28 miles

Definitely going to be one of the best days of the tour. We're going to rise with the sun on the beach, then enjoy the ride into San Francisco over the world famous Golden Gate Bridge. The day will then be spent touring San Francisco and meeting some of the enthusiast commuters that tackle those famous hills every day. We'll be leading 2 group rides in San Francisco today.

October 3, 2010

Rest Day/Awareness Ride Day in San Francisco, CA

We'll be leading some group rides and touring the city - if you live in San Francisco, come show us your roads! We're excited to also take a trolley somewhere while we're here...

October 4, 2010

San Francisco to Opal Cliffs, CA via Half Moon Bay

about 82 miles

Leaving the City by the Bay, we'll head south along the coast to Half Moon Bay, one of the more famous beaches on the California coast for an unwinding day at the beach (and some bodysurfing!). After dinner, we'll take a twilight ride on to Opal Cliffs, CA for a night's sleep on one of their lovely beaches.

October 5, 2010

Opal Cliffs, CA to Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA

about 50 miles

Taking it easy today with only 50 miles, but with all of them along Monterey Bay, and with the day ending in Carmel-by-the-Sea, I think we'll manage.

October 6, 2010

Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA to Morro Bay, CA

about 123 miles

Well, here's where we put those legs to the test after an easy day yesterday. Tackling all of Big Sur in one day - a California cyclist's dream. Despite the mileage and the thousands of feet of climbing (or maybe because of the miles and climbing), the consistent views of the Pacific should make today one to remember.

October 7, 2010

Morro Bay, CA to Gaviota, CA

about 93 miles

More coastal riding and stops in San Luis Obispo and Santa Maria should make today's ride a real treat. And at the end of the day? More camping on the beach!

October 8, 2010

Gaviota, CA to Ventura, CA

about 60 miles

A pleasant coastal ride today, with a stop for a Friday afternoon group ride in Santa Barbara. We'll then be cruising along Highway 1 around sunset all the way to Ventura and yet another night spent on the beach under the stars.

October 9, 2010

Ventura, CA to Beverly Hills, CA

about 83 miles

Starting the day with a Saturday morning group ride in Ventura, CA, we'll then head out for LA, stopping in Camarillo for some sightseeing (Chris was born there, and wants to see the town...). Up next, a stop at the Santa Monica Pier and some time at the beach! The day ends with a self-guided tour of Beverly Hills, a evening cruise down Sunset Blvd. and a nighttime view of the famous Hollywood sign.

October 10, 2010

Rest Day/Awareness Ride Day in Los Angeles, CA

We'll be leading some group rides and touring the city - if you live in Los Angeles, come show us your roads! We know there's a lot to see, so give us some ideas of some good places to see and things to do while we're here!

October 11, 2010

Rest Day

Okay, so we're going to be tourists for a day and enjoy Los Angeles.

October 12, 2010

Los Angeles, CA to Palmdale, CA

about 67 miles

This is the setup ride for tomorrow... 67 nice and flat miles...

October 13, 2010

Palmdale, CA to Big Bear Lake, CA

about 136 miles with about 14,200 feet of climbing

Ouch. Yes, we're bold enough to think we can complete stage 6 of the Amgen Tour of California. It'll be fun to look at the ProTour riders' times when we're done.

October 14, 2010

Rest Day at Big Bear Lake, CA

If you think we're doing anything but sleeping and eating under the sun at Big Bear Lake after yesterday, you're nuts.

October 15, 2010

Big Bear Lake, CA to San Bernandino, CA

about 42 miles

Nice, easy day through the San Bernandino National Forest, culminating in a group ride in San Bernandino.

October 16, 2010

San Bernandino, CA to Long Beach, CA

about 85 miles

Our Saturday takes us back through the concrete jungle of suburban Los Angeles, stopping in Pasadena for a group ride and a sightseeing trip to the Rose Bowl. Then on toward the Pacific Ocean once again - we'll be spending the night in Long Beach/Huntington Beach.

October 17, 2010

Group Rides in Long Beach, CA and Huntington Beach, CA

about 18 miles, plus group rides

Ah, Sundays. Nothing like meeting new friends over a few miles of Pacific coastline riding.

October 18, 2010

Rest Day in Huntington Beach, CA

We're going swimming and working on our tans.

October 19, 2010

Huntington Beach, CA to Oceanside, CA

about 52 miles

A full day back on Highway 1 on the Pacific coast, stopping in Laguna Beach, Dana Point and San Clemente for some sightseeing.

October 20, 2010

Oceanside, CA to San Diego, CA

about 40 miles

Another pleasant day on Highway 1 - this one is to be the last of our tour. We'll be passing through Carlsbad and Encinitas en route to San Diego, our last big city of the trip.

October 21, 2010

San Diego

We may go to the zoo..... who am I kidding, we're going to the zoo.

October 22, 2010

Group Ride in San Diego

We'll be leading an afternoon group ride to celebrate Friday evening - come join us.

October 23, 2010

More group rides!

We'll be leading a morning group ride, spending the day exploring the city, then leading a twilight ride. It's going to be fun....

October 24, 2010

Our last group rides!

These Sunday rides will be the last TYB group rides of the Border2Border tour, with one in the AM and a low key ride in the PM. Ah, Sundays...

October 25, 2010

San Diego, CA to Tecate, Baja California, Mexico

about 50 miles

THIS IS IT! Our last day of the tour! All of those miles have culminated in a short ride from San Diego to the Tecate Brewery in Tecate, Mexico. It's going to be a tasty beer....

Life, Bikes, and Jobs

2010-08-06T10:39:00.000-07:00

It's been an absolutely hectic week, and I'm thoroughly enjoying elevating my legs for a bit as I write this. It's 10:42 on Friday morning, and I gave myself the day off today. I've spent my morning resting my legs, learning how to swim (in theory - I'll try it in the pool tomorrow), enjoying some jazz music, and making dents on my to-do lists (yes, I have several, and yes, they are "comprehensive"). I feel like I'm starting to catch back up after imposing an easy day on myself yesterday (both with work and with training) and forcing a rest day (no work and no training) on myself today. This may sound a little feeble, but I might have to admit that I ran myself into the ground. Last week I "enjoyed" 24 hours of training, worked 36 hours, and only squeezed in 37 hours of sleep - when that's the case you know you've got issues. I know that my body can take a lot (and I even know that my body can take a week like that), but add those up and you hit a wall pretty quickly. I feel as though I need to be a bit more aware of how my ambition and "I'm 24 and my body can handle it" mentality interact.

All things considered, though. I couldn't be happier. I'm healthy, and comfortable, I have great things on my calendar for the next 12 months (well, 10 - I have no idea what I'm doing next July), and I have better friends and family supporting me than I could ever dream of. All of the hectic and exhausting aspects of my life are reflective only of my own ambitions and doings, and I can live with that.

Fortunately (maybe not the right word), my leaving the Gold's Gym Washington family at the end of the month has leaned down my client load considerably, and I have a fairly relaxed week ahead of me. The down time should allow my mind to refresh itself, allow my body to recover, and allow me to really put some time into the TYB support outreach program. We leave in just over a month, and there's still loads of work to do with regard to sponsorships, equipment support, ride food support, brand marketing, local bike shop networking... ugh. I should stop blogging and get to work.

Our TYB t-shirts are in, and so are our wristbands (check them all out in the photos above). We're selling both items as a way to help support the Border2Border tour - all money raised goes to support the ride and its riders along the way. We're a not-for-profit organization, so if you dig what we're doing and want a cool t-shirt/wristband email me at chris@takeyourbike.org with what you want and your address. Your purchase will help make all of this possible. Tell your friends!

In other personal cycling exploit news, I entered a charity event tomorrow called the Cougar Mountain Hill Climb - a 2 mile time trial up Cougar Mountain at a 7.8% average gradient. My kind of ride. Coupled with the early AM ride there (26 miles including my favorite jaunt around Mercer Island) and the ride home, it should make for a good morning (wasn't I just talking about how I'm overworking myself?). Next weekend is RSVP (the Ride from Seattle to Vancouver... and Party!). I'm doing it with a bunch of friends, and making plenty of new ones. I hope to document it well, since it's sort of a 2-day goofball ride with lots of hydrating with beer, camping, etc. I'll be brining about 400 TYB.org wristbands as well, and hope to spread the word like wildfire.

The next weekend (every weekend I must do something ridiculous, of course) is my first-ever triathlon. I feel overly confident about the bike, good about the run, decent about transitions. I am absolutely wrecked over the swim. I tried swimming two days ago in Green Lake here in sunny Seattle, WA (over 4 weeks straight of no rain to speak of!), and struggled mightily. It's not that I can't swim, it's that I can't swim efficiently (read: well). I need to spend some serious time learning about stroke and breathing in the next 2 weeks if I'm going to do respectably in my first attempt at triathlon. And I'm definitely going to have to spend a lot of time this winter learning how to be efficient in the water if I'm going to achieve my goals at next year's CDA Ironman in June (yes, it's very weird to write about how I'm going to do an Ironman triathlon..).

The notice has been put in at Gold's and Rain in Seattle, and it's time for me to add "find work in Tahoe" to the ad-infinitum to-do lists. Here's to finding work in the fitness industry this winter.

More info to come on the TYB ride, the impending triathlon humbling, and all things life in the next week or so. Say hello sometime, I'm on the Facebook machine.

RAMROD

2010-07-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

Well, all of the long hours of training and the mental preparation culminated into my target ride of the season yesterday, the Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day. 154 miles with 10,300+ feet of elevation gained - a real all-day slugfest. Rolling hills almost all day with 2 big

climbs (9 and 12 miles with 5-8% grade). It was awesome.

The greatest part of arguably what was the biggest ride of my life is what made this so special. The training up to it was fun and challenging, but in the end wasn't the most rewarding part. The company was great, but not the focal point. The conquering of the mountain passes themselves was very trying and very rewarding, but not the most memorable part of the ride. The most impressive part of the ride itself was something that I didn't expect to be even one half as grand as it was: the scenery.

Don't get me wrong, I know how gorgeous Rainier is (it's only haunted my dreams since I was 14), and I knew going into this that there was some pretty country up here in the PacNW, but after the scale of Colorado this winter I just wasn't expecting to be floored the way I was. Much of the ride was as expected, but the 50ish miles inside the park were just unbelievable. The views coupled with the route itself and the perfect (I'm serious, it couldn't have been better) weather made that stretch the most stunning ride I've been on since some of the training rides back in Summit Co., CO this spring.

The pictures do NO justice, but they're attached anyway. I'm looking forward to seeing all sorts of ridiculous sights this fall during the TYB B2B tour (www.takeyourbike.org - shameless plug), then posting photos on the TYB blog (www.officialtakeyourbike.blogspot.com - shameless plug #2).

Of all the things that I'd have thought would be fun a few years ago, much less a good idea, this wouldn't have been it. It's great how time changes things.

The approximate route is linked below, with a flyby, although the guy that made the route took some shortcuts with his mapping:

http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/united-states/wa/-enumclaw/679903194201

I won't go into all of the little subplot stories of the ride (you'll have to come see me in person for that sort of thing, and I invite any one of you to come hang out for a bit with me somewhere in the world), but my favorite of the day is as follows:

I was flying up the first of the two big hills at a fairly ludicrous speed (the kind that screams "I don't have any desire to be able to walk tomorrow") and passed a professionally-kitted-out woman on a very expensive triathlon bike. As I did, she exclaimed "It's still a long way to go - don't kill yourself this early!". I was focused on the climb, and just kept hammering. About a half mile ahead I stopped to take one of the attached photos, and she passed me. A minute or so later I caught her again, and she again spoke up.

"Don't go anaerobic this early in the day - you'll be in the hurt locker later. I know it's unsolicited advice, but I'm a personal trainer."

Me:"Thanks for looking out. I appreciate your input. I'm a personal trainer as well, and I agree with you. But I'm actually still below LT, so I'm okay."

Then I dropped her. All sorts of fun.

I saw her at a rest stop later in the ride and we talked for a bit - she was a really nice woman who is actually a ten time Ironman veteran, so she is definitely a stronger athlete than I am at this point. The difference in our climbs was that I was trying to kill myself on my "A" target ride of the year, and she was in the middle of a training ride. We're both doing an event together next year, so I'll look forward to seeing how badly she crushes me then...

I signed up for two triathlons last week: the Wenatchee sprint tri this August and the 2011 Coeur D'Alene Ironman. Yes, I'm an idiot. But this needs to happen. I need to prove to my body that is in fact a Formula 1 race car, and that it can do whatever I want it to because I'm 24 and I know how to train for this sort of thing. And because my Dad never ran a full IM.

(Note to my 18 year-old self: of all the things that could never, ever, in-a-million-years happen, out-triathlonning *made-up word* your Dad is one of them)

100th Blog Post!

2010-07-25T13:12:00.000-07:00

So I suppose that I've ascended to "Webelos" territory in the blogosphere, having posted 100 times on this page. Regardless of whether this is actually the case, I'm overjoyed to have had the opportunity to use the word "Webelos" in a sentence. If you don't understand the reference, take the time to Wikipedia "Boy Scouts", "American childhood", or "obscure cultural reference".

Life is as busy as I can remember as of late, and time to write (both music and here in the blog) is becoming harder and harder to come by. I'm glad to have found the time today to do a little of both.

This week has brought a lot of introspection to the forefront, and I've spent a lot of time examining what motivates me. I feel as though I'm chasing something, but I can't put my finger on it. Fame and fortune don't have much appeal to me; I think I'm too much of an idealist to settle for anything that material. That being said, I am constantly intrigued by the contrast my dedication to achieve and my contentment with the present. I'm thrilled to be doing anything and everything with most anyone, and I relish the opportunity to have full conversations with complete strangers - yet my friends and family mean the world to me. Despite this love of the present and the smallest (probably not the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind) of experiences, I have many, many fairly ludicrous ambitions, and put much of my time, energy, and resources toward making these reality. A new friend helped me reconcile this in a way - she pointed out that it may be that my ambitions and my grand dreams allow me to enjoy the infrastructure of otherwise trivial experiences that make up daily life. Having a goal to work toward, a dream to chase down - this opens my mind to fully appreciate the simple luxuries of daily life. I feel that living in an urban setting has compounded this, as I am constantly surrounded with interesting sights and people, many of whom are chasing equally ludicrous ambitions. I firmly believe that aspirations make us greater than we can otherwise be.

All of this may seem a bit over the top, but this is actually what occupies my mind on a daily basis. Seriously. It's gotta go somewhere.

I went to my first ever track cycling race last night, and it was a blast. I rode there and back with a bunch of new friends, which was even better. I'm firmly convinced that bicycles are the coolest things in the world, and you'll be hard pressed to prove otherwise. If you want to try, email me at believeinsnow@yahoo.com with your argument.

Women's cycling races are incredibly enjoyable to watch. It's like going to going to the beach and admiring the female form, but all of those females can own you on the bike. And that's something special.

The biggest ride of my season is coming up Thursday (well, other than that ride). RAMROD - 154 miles with 10,000+ feet of climbing. Ouch. Say a prayer for my legs. And my sanity.

We've got wristbands in at takeyourbike.org, and shirts and spoke cards are on their way. Buy some TYB swag and help support the Border2Border bicycle tour. Email any order inquiries to chris@takeyourbike.org.

Currently listnening to: Melody Gardot

Currently reading: Nutrition for Serious Athletes

STP

2010-07-19T09:33:00.000-07:00

Above: The results, the day's ride evidence, and my groceries.

This weekend was a blast, an I couldn't be happier with the results of this year's STP. No crashes for myself or my friends, only one flat (although flatting 170 miles into your bike ride is incredibly deflating), and a successful completion of my goal time (actually, I crushed my goal time).

Big thanks to Paul, Heather, and Craig for inviting me to ride with them - it was a blast. Unfortunately our paces started to differ around the 70 mile mark, and I split off at the halfway point of the day. This was a good call in hindsight, as they had a great rest of their ride and I actually had not only a faster second 100 miles, but my personal best (4:31 ride time). My whole STP took 9 hours and 27 minutes, with the 200 mile mark coming at 9:17 (my goal was a 9:30 double century, since the last 4 miles are through urban Portland and not really an accurate pace gauge). Sure, things could've been faster: I stopped for much longer than I'd prefer 4 different times, and I think that let me legs slow down a bit, but there was no other option. If I set out earlier than my "team" and hammered alone, they would inevitably work together to catch me and at that point I'd be exhausted and have no time advantage. Not worth the effort. So I stayed disciplined and just enjoyed our stops and my company. There was also a big 20+ mile section where we happened to be working with/around the dumbest, most ridiculous paceline I've ever been a part of. Usually I'm the least experienced group rider in the line, and I usually earn the "young and stupid" award for the day, but on this day I felt like an ex-pro. I stayed near the back for most of the line, mostly out of fear for what might happen if I got mixed up with the stop-start-speed up-brake action going on up front. It was like crit racing out of every intersection. Absolutely ridiculous. I'm sure I could've gone 5-10 minutes faster overall if we just had some logic for that hour or so. C'est la vie. Maybe next year I'll get in with a good team on the start line and we'll just try to get out front and stay away from all of that garbage for the day. We'll see.

Again, all things considered it was a blast. Riding bikes with 10,000 other people is very, very cool. And some of them weren't even on bikes. Among the STP entrants were a longboarder (yes, he kicked-pushed-coasted all the way from Seattle to Portland), people on a 3-seated bike, people on tricycles, people on ellipticals (yes: http://www.elliptigo.com/), and people on unicycles (see above photo - he did it in one day, like me. On a unicycle. Up and down hills. Think about that). Some of us went for record-setting personal best times; some of the riders just wanted to finish. Some just went to eat a whole bunch of Clif bars. Regardless, everyone had a blast. I'm very glad I had the chance to go on the world's biggest group ride this year.

I'm even more glad I got my One-Day-Rider shirt and necklace.

Next up: a quick recovery week, then RAMROD and the Lake Washington race next week. Shut up, legs, and do what I tell you.

Life Gets In The Way Of Blogging

2010-07-16T09:30:00.000-07:00

I'd like to start a petition for an extra 60 minutes to be added to the day for blogging, so I can keep this thing up to date. For that matter, I'd like to petition 3 additional hours for sleep, and 17 additional minutes for eating ice cream. When I get the official draft finished, I'll post it here and we can start a movement. Civil rights caught on, and back in the 50s and 60s almost nobody of power was behind it. Everyone likes sleep and ice cream, so I like my odds.

My sincere apologies for not writing much in the last few weeks, but it was unavoidable. My days have been slam-packed with 12 hour workdays, near-continuous training, writing music, and attempts at a social life. I am now vividly aware of what is like to always be tired and hungry, which all serious endurance athletes are. It's an interesting feeling. I can always eat more, and I can always knock out for a full 8 hours of sleep at a second's notice. It's a fascinating situation to be living in.

To be honest with you, I am writing this now because I just spent time with a very skilled and active writer, and I realized that I've been a slacker about my own work. It's one of life's great pleasures to rediscover inspiration in all that you do, and to note just how someone's excellence in a completely unrelated field (not this case, but still) can motivate and inspire you to excel in your own. I feel fortunate to have met a creative mind, and I am reinvigorated about staying creative in my own work.

I've been cycling near-consistently over the last few weeks, and I've started to admire the art that it is. Perhaps watching more ProTour riding as of late and riding with more/new people has contributed to that, but I'm increasingly aware of the style that goes into riding a bike. And I'm not referring to those ultra-hip mustache bars you threw on your Velocity-rolling fixie. Every rider I've ridden with seriously, and every pro rider out there has a distinct style. Be it the way they pedal on hills or the way they conduct themselves off the bike, it's out there. I've even adopted some favorite riders:

1. Fabian Cancellara

2. Jens Voight

3. Ted King

Fabian is the coolest name out, and if I happen to ever spawn a child of my own I'm crossing fingers that it's a boy named Fabian. Jens Voight is everything that I love about cycling. He's a professional, he's an idiot, and he lives for climbing and pain. Ted King is a master of style off the bike, and a noteworthy writer himself.

I'm becoming increasingly (alarmingly) aware of a lot of things as of late, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Working for Gold's has provided me a tremendous amount of insight into the world of fitness, and I'm starting to be a bit compulsive about my fitness/nutrition. I left a work meeting the other day because I "needed" to eat some calories in a specific carbohydrate/protein ratio at that point in the day because I had plans to work out and ride a bit in a few hours and I needed to capitalize on my metabolic window and ensure that I had the necessary fuel to give it 100%. Is that obsessive? Probably. Weird? Yes. My reality? Also yes.

I'm also becoming more aware of differences in myself and others, and I may even go so far as to use the word "hyper-aware" here. I notice things so fully and so consistently now that it's almost tangible. I never considered myself all that "different", just more reckless perhaps. Or perhaps more inclined to buck trends for the sake of it. But I've realized that I have some fundamental differences in my perspective in relation to the majority of the people I know, and some of them are worth noting:

- I am absolutely, unequivocally devoted to the idea that "the juice is the squeeze". I don't understand why the majority of the world is working so hard at jobs they can't stand to earn money to put toward nothing in particular at all. I don't have much, but I have aspirations to see/do/live things, and if my lifestyle facilitates those things, I'm content. I don't need to "come out ahead" financially or egotistically, I just want to have that experience. Isn't working toward an experience worth that?

- I have a very unique physiology. I sleep less than a lot of my friends, exercise more than almost all of my friends, and have entirely non-sensical resistances to pain, cold, and complacency. I can explain away some of this to genetics, but the rest is a mystery to me. I still don't think I'm stronger or more motivated than most people, but I feel like I have a predisposition to will myself to be. Maybe I'm running from something; I don't know.

- I am a musician. I can't escape it. It's in my blood. For all of the other interests that I pursue, music is still at the heart of them all. I am constantly living my life in melodies, and I still absolutely love the artistic community that musicians compose.

I've got a lot of work to do on the TYB.org front, but things are shaping up. Our wristbands are in (check out www.takeyourbike.org under our Swag page), and you can email me to get yours today. They're $1, and all proceeds go to support the inaugural tour this fall (Border2Border - Canada to Mexico). I've got some sponsor solicitation work and some more detailed route-planning to do, and we're a long way from Sept. 12, but things are coming together.

I have the biggest rides of my life coming up in the form of STP (Seattle to Portland - tomorrow) and RAMROD (Ride Around Mount Ranier in One Day). Rest assured, there will be photos and some writing about each. The ridiculousness of both of these rides is starting to sink in, and I'm about as excited for these as I've ever been for anything.

I look forward to seeing some old friends this week, making some new ones, and eating a lot of food at Sweet Tomatoes in Portland with one of my oldest and dearest friends in the world after a 200+ mile bike ride.

A Bike Heavy Weekend

2010-06-28T04:51:00.000-07:00

This weekend was one of the most bike-centric weekends of my life. I spent a total of 10 and a half hours on the bike, and my legs are feeling it. I'm starting to get an acute awareness of just what training for a successful ultramarathon season entails. Nobody's going to put those miles in for you, and the only way you're going to rack them up is by getting out there and putting in the time. I feel like I'm getting stronger though, and as I continue to develop a stronger awareness of training and recovery principles I feel as though I will continue to make strides. And hair is still helping out...

My Fabian Cancellara haircut is getting pretty vicious, and I'm still convinced that (Samson-esque) it is the source of my strength on the bike. If his flowing mane is a part of multiple classics wins in a single season and a World TT Championship, mine will get me around Mt. Ranier in good time. To clarify: I'm letting my hair grow out from the feauxhawk origins that were laid down in Crested Butte because Fabian Cancellara lets his mane fly on his way to victory. He's not using a motor, I can assure you of that, but his hair is definitely adding some wattage. I may edge things up soon - I'll be sure to document just how rad things get.

This past weekend I enjoyed two big rides: a (mostly) solo century around greater Seattle, and a fundraiser ride for the AIDS Alliance.

My century on Saturday started with a group ride, but unfortunately only one rider there had any interest in hammering at 20+, so after about 20 miles of rolling with the crew and trying in vain to push the pace I set out alone. My only counterpart interested in riding hard decided to stay with the group (he later emailed me and told all about how much he regretted that), so I was on my own. I set out to do some exploring, and I accomplished even more than I expected. I started my solo expedition on Mercer Island, a scenic part of greater Seattle that is accessible by bridge and by boat only. I have to say that the riding on Mercer Island is some of my favorite to date, and I can't wait to go back. The lush forests that frame the main road circumnavigating the island scream "Pacific Northwest", and the road itself is rife with undulating hills, switchbacks, and scenery. The whole loop is under 20 miles, so I made sure to enjoy it twice on this day. The full day took me all over Seattle, and let me tell you - 80 solo miles hurts, especially in hilly Seattle.

I'll be doing a big 130 mile ride this Saturday on Whidbey Island (hopefully actually with the group this time), and I can only hope to find such a fun experience and such tremendous views. I think the odds are good, though, and I'm very much looking forward to it.

My other ride this past weekend involved a stationary trainer and a gay pride festival, neither of which I'm normally very excited about. But this situation was different, as I was focused on professional goals (I work for a predominantly gay gym, and this festival was like fishing for clients in a kiddie pool with dynamite) and on my own philanthropic motivations. My gym is raising money for the Lifelong AIDS Alliance, which seems to be a pretty upstanding organization to me. I'm all for finding cures and for helping support the ill, no matter the disease, and they seem to have some good infrastructure in place to do just that. So I hatched the plan that I would "ride for the cause" at the festival, setting up a stationary trainer and doing my part to raise awareness and donations. The benefits were two-fold - I was able to separate myself from other trainers and attract more prospective clients (and, unfortunately, suitors....), and I was able to get in a workout while working all day. I sold my manager on a "donate $1 and keep Chris riding for another 5 minutes!" pitch, and we pushed like crazy. I ended up riding for over 4 and half hours, and we raised a few hundred dollars for the cause. Not many days am I fortunate enough to do good while riding my bike, and I'm very honored to have been able to enjoy that opportunity this weekend.

My piece de resistance for the weekend, though, was my victory lap after Saturday's ride. I met my good friend Pat Allen for an omelet. Not just any omelet, mind you - the legendary Beth's Cafe 12-Egg Omelet. Yes, they put a dozen eggs in. Yes, the serve it over a tray of hasbrowns. Yes, I ordered extra hash browns. No, it wasn't hard to put down after that ride (seriously, not even a little), and yes, I plan on doing it again this summer. I also planning on attempting a solo 12-egg omelet, but I need to solve the logistics issues involved with preparing one at home. Anyone with information on how to prepare and flip and 12-egg omelet please email me at believeinsnow@yahoo.com.

I'll leave you with some words of wisdom:

After a particularly hard-fought victory in a bike race this season, ProTour rider Jens Voight was asked what he was feeling on the last climb of the day, when everyone was pushing well beyond their limits. His reply:

"Yes, my legs hurt very much. But I told them "Shut up, legs.", and I made it to the top."

I'm considering getting that as my epitaph. Shut up, legs.

Summer in the PacNW

2010-06-25T21:29:00.000-07:00

It may actually be summer in Seattle, although I don't want to commit to that just yet. Summers here are one of the country's best kept secrets, and a lot of fun. I'm looking forward to the near-flawless weather (sunshine, 60-70 degrees, NO HUMIDITY) and the opportunities it presents to get outside. I'll be biking plenty, you can be sure of that.

Tomorrow holds another big training ride as I get ready for my single-day STP attempt and my crown jewel ride at RAMROD at the end of July. I feel good, and I feel like I'm getting to be where I wanted to be at this point of the year. Metrics and data are really cool when you apply them toward personal athletic performance - it's like treating your body like a race car. After I knock out those 120 miles tomorrow, I plan on going to Beth's Cafe on Green Lake and ordering a dozen egg omelet. I've heard rumors that it weighs over 6 pounds, so this could get interesting. There will be photos.

The TYB progress keeps on coming, and we'll be ordering our first bit of merchandise next week. Keep posted and I'll let you know what we'll be selling and how you can get yours. Rest assured it will be very, very cool.

I've enjoyed seeing all of my friends now that I'm back "home", but last night I had the opportunity to make some music with my friend Pat Allen, who happened to play in my first ever band waaaay back in high school. We only came up with one noteworthy idea, but the session was one of the coolest I've been a part of in a while. After a decade away from each other, it was very cool to see where we'd gone musically and just what we could come up with together.

Off to get some rest and prepare for the ride tomorrow - it's going to be good, and I plan on attacking like crazy and seeing just how hard I can get these old guys and girls to go (I'm the youngest in our group by a good 10 years) - not that age has anything to do with it, though. I'm pretty sure I know an old guy in Japan who can still hammer with the best of them.

Check out the near-complete TYB site! www.takeyourbike.org

Mobility

2010-06-21T22:47:00.000-07:00

So I just got a fully mobile physical address with www.mailboxforwarding.com. Now I can travel at will and have the company scan/forward my mail as I see fit. And I can link my bank and insurance accounts to it and forget about having to change their billing and mailing addresses every time I relocate. Looks like I can travel at will now without having to change my address every six months... Stoked.

If you need to reach me, I can be found (never and always) at:

Chris Cloyd
2885 Sanford Ave SW #13856
Grandville, MI 49418

The 21st century is a very cool place, indeed.

Happy Fathers Day

2010-06-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, I'd like to take a second to wish a happy father's day to all of the fathers in my life - whether you're my own dad (there's just one of you), a father in my family (I'm fortunate to have a few good ones), or a father that I'm fortunate enough to know (there's a whole bunch of you), happy father's day. You all deserve all of the thanks in the world for your positive impact on my life, and I'm lucky to have you all in my life. Dad, I'm proud to be your son. The rest of you fathers, your children are lucky to have you in their lives.

I've enjoyed a very pleasant weekend despite the rain (I can't believe that I've had to bring out the trainer and ride indoors in JUNE due to rain.... yes, I know I'm living in Seattle, and yes, I appreciate those of you not here reminding me of that every time it rains), and I feel like I'm well rested for the first time in weeks. I'm also feeling inspired to start hitting the productivity trail hard again, for many reasons. I've been reminded by a few good friends of my strengths recently. I've seen the dedication in takes to succeed displayed by some great people in my life firsthand. I've been reminded by a good friend that the world isn't going to hand you achievement - you've got to go out and grab it. I hadn't lost sight of that, but perhaps I got a little comfortable. I'm a firm believer that your surrounding dictate your effectiveness and your goals, and I feel like being in Seattle (a place I love) with my good friends here may have contributed to a little slowing down on my part. That's a good thing in the "stop and smell the roses" sense, but there's a fine line to dance upon there, and it's paramount that I stay aware of that. Being in the most dire of circumstances or having the most scarce of resources has prompted some of the greatest accomplishments in our history, and I feel as though I have so much support around me. I'm not masochistic (although some of you have spent time on a bike or in the gym with me may disagree), but I feel as though the luxury of my life may be imposing a little complacency. I'm going to do some self-analyzing this week and see just what standards of living in my life are in fact luxuries, and see if I can't put myself in a position where productivity toward my real goals is more of a priority.

Goals. Goals and aspirations conjure up a great many thoughts in my mind, one of which has caused me to do a lot of introspective thinking lately. I love it here in Seattle, and I could easily set up shop for a bit. I catch myself thinking about this, and I have to ask: why is slowing down an option here? Perhaps it's the work I'm putting in at Gold's - it sometimes seems counterproductive to work so hard to earn clients when I know that I'm leaving in a matter of months. Perhaps it's the fact that I enjoy just being here - it's as though I've accomplished something just fighting my way back to where I've wanted to be for so many years. I'm not sure, but the thoughts are undeniable. It's an interesting situation.

But I've realized that it's my goals and aspirations that have brought me here, and my goals and aspirations to get back that make it rewarding. I cringe at the implications that this revelation has on my long-term life, but I've realized that for me those goals and aspirations are the destination. If you're into metaphors, "my juice is the squeeze". It may be more "fun" to spend a winter somewhere other than Lake Tahoe this year, or it may be the best winter of my life. But I have to go there and live that experience to ever have any idea. It may be "easier" to stay in Seattle and work on a client foundation for a few years, or biking from Canada to Mexico may be the most carefree and "easy" thing I've applied myself to in my entire life. I doubt that, but I'll only be able to tell you about it after I finish that Tecate in Tecate this fall. I don't know what the final outcomes of the decisions I've made for my life in the coming year will be, but I know that I won't regret taking my shot.

I may go down swinging, but last time I checked we've only got one at bat, and I'm not getting caught looking.

Catching Up

2010-06-13T14:40:00.000-07:00

So I know it's been a little while since my last entry, and I apologize for that. But I've had some living to do, and it's taken up a lot of time. I haven't been this busy since I was living in VA (the "real world" obligations were few and far between while living in Crested Butte), and it's pretty exciting. Don't get me wrong - I like my free time just as much as the next guy, but when I get it I tend to invent things to do (train, write, etc) anyway, so I'd just as soon be busy. I'm settling into the new job at Gold's and starting to build a client list. I'm teaching multiple group exercise classes at Gold's and at Rain, and hoping to get more on the calendar soon. The TYB site is making strides, and we're starting to get into the exciting processes of sponsor outreach and ride organization. The fun is starting to happen.

I'd like to think that my life has been eventful in the last few weeks (if I'm not blogging, let's hope that big things are happening in the real world, right?), so here's the highlights:

I started playing kickball again, and in the first game of the season I slid into home running from second, tore up the plate (and my leg), and it counted for: nothing. Some fielding technicality... I'm of the opinion that if I'm bleeding, the run should count. Just a thought.

I set a personal best time of 4:37 for a 100 mile road race at Flying Wheels. What a fun ride. Lots of hills, hammering with a good line of about 6 guys, and some new friends. The season is getting into shape.

I volunteered for the Cascade Bike Club, and had a blast. Hanging out with a bunch of other bike geeks drinking craft beer and talking about bikes is a good time.

I've started training hard at Gold's, which is getting fun again. I'm working with some fun people, and it's only getting better. It's all sure to make for a good summer there. I've adopted to slogan "live the brand", which is attributed to my GM (his reply when I told him I was going to bed and waking up early instead of going out drinking..... with him).

Best story of the last 2 weeks: So I'm pretty enthusiastic about commuting by bike (to a fault, maybe), and despite the fact that it was pouring rain and I was fresh off of 4 and half hours of sleep I decided to ride to work last week at 5 AM (I teach a 6 AM spin class). So I'm sucking it up and hammering to work in the pouring rain, my righteous indignation keeping me optimistic (at least I wasn't in a car....). Of course about half there I get a flat. I find this so funny that it doesn't even bother me. Of course I would get a flat in the rain at 5 AM. When else could it possibly happen? 7 PM in the sun when I don't have anywhere to be? So I change the tube on the streetcorner and resume my trek to work with a little extra pep since I'm now behind schedule. Still raining. I get to the base of Olive Way (the biggest and last hill on my commute to work), and wouldn't you know it - my second flat of the day. My righteous optimism has given way to profanity and acute frustration, because that's just ridiculous. There's nobody else in the world who double flats on the way to work in the rain at 5 AM after less than 5 hours of sleep. It just doesn't happen. But it did, and I'm out of tubes. Still about a mile from work, and still in the rain. And now without a bike. I'm so livid at this point that I'm resolved to beat this karmic kick while I'm down. So I did the only logical thing (not the most logical thing, though, given that I was 5 minutes away from the start of my class) I could think of at the time - tie up the crippled bike on the streetcorner and sprint to work. In the rain. Up Olive Way. With a 30 lb backpack on. At 5:53 AM. Why not? It was like my own private triathlon - bike/sprint/spin. I ran harder than I have in a long time, and didn't even break stride as a got to the gym. I dropped my backpack in the lobby, and started shedding my helmet and jacket as I ran toward the group exercise room. I don't even think I slowed down to plug my iPod in. I got the music going, hopped onto my bike, and started spinning. At 6:01, I'm already covered in sweat, out of breath, and almost crosseyed after my uphill sprint to work. But I made it, and we had a killer class. You should've seen the looks on their faces when I ran into class.

Live the brand.

Crit Racing

2010-06-03T21:04:00.001-07:00

Well, today was a big day for me - my first criterium bike race. And I got humbled. For the uninitiated:

criterium (noun): a very stupid race that appeals to cyclists for no known reason, where a pack of 75 or so riders goes in circles around a short course that takes about 90 seconds per lap at speeds at or approaching 30 mph, all the while everyone is redlining their HR and pretty much delusional, bumping into each other and causing crashes that commonly result in breaking $4000 bikes for prizes ranging from a box of Clif bars to a $300 check for the "big boys" winner.

I raced in the "little boys" division, and our winner got a bike pump.

These races, I discovered today, are not so much a measure of fitness (although you have to at least be fit enough to hang with the main group, or you get pulled off the course), but of racing tactics and recklessness/bullishness. You have to have a fighter's attitude to stay even close to the front, and you have to be willing to risk your health with pretty much every turn. This kind of racing doesn't play to my strengths as a rider, which makes the style all the more impressive to me. I have a tremendous amount of respect for the racers that do well, and I hope to improve as I ride more crit races in the future. What - you didn't expect me to just use "it's not my thing" as a copout, did you?

So, in summation, my lessons learned today:

- there are a LOT of better riders than me out there, and plenty of them live in the Seattle area

- drafting is smarter than trying to "outmuscle" teams of riders up a hill

- I have no idea what I'm doing when I'm riding in 4th place in a crit race, and in the few seconds I took thinking about this while up front today, I was passed by about 30 people. That's the kind of pace I'm talking about

- finishing a crit race is a victory for two reasons: a lot of people get pulled from the race after falling off the back of the main group, and just as many people end up meeting pavement and not finishing. It's a little ridiculous how good the odds are of getting involved in a crash

- cycling is way cooler than most sports

- watching a women's crit race is more enticing than reading SI's Swimsuit Issue anyday

And I'll leave it at that.

A Quick Thought

2010-05-31T22:14:00.000-07:00

I heard this lesson from a cycling acquaintance:

I was taking a criminal law class last year wherein the professor continually corrected students who would remark, "The law prevents you from doing that.". He would interrupt and say, "No, let's be clear. You can still do that if you want to, you'll just go to jail if you do.".

I think you can approach everything in life with the same attitude - you really can do nearly anything you want, the decision is just how much of a consequence you're willing to face.

I like that.

SkitoSea!

2010-05-31T16:46:00.000-07:00

The SkitoSea adventure is complete, and it was a hell of a thing. It was a real adventure, complete with trials and tribulations ranging from logistical nightmares, cross-state travel, teamwork, and haunted houses in the woods.

We headed up Saturday to pick up our race packets and get set up, which all went smoothly. We left our kayak with the Boy Scouts (despite Steve's lack of trust in the Boy Scouts that expelled him from their ranks as a child) and headed up to our campsite some 40 miles away from the finish of the race (it was closer to the start, and we thought it would be more convenient in the morning). Our campsite was our friend and teammate Kenji's roommate Marcel's project property in the woods up in Maple Falls, which was "still a work in progress" according to Kenji. After almost getting lost a few times, we eventually find the property - off of Cemetery Road. Of course, the "house" is a skeleton of a one-great home, and is riddled with all sorts of niceties (see: unexplainable sharp metal stakes, what can only be described as an open grave - complete with a shovel next to it, assorted saws and nails, and a front door that leads only to a concrete wall). I've included a photo of the "house" that includes what I can only assume is a ghost. After laughing for a bit about how awesome all of this was, we started pitching tents and setting up camp. Once our "home" was set up, things felt much better, and since we had to get up in a few hours for the race, we turned in (against every shred of self-preservation we collectively held) around 11 PM. Kate may have stayed awake a little later, however, since we may or may not have legitimately terrified her with talk of zombies.

Yesterday's race was awesome. It was a long day - we woke up at 4:45 AM for the race due to logistic constraints, but I didn't have anything to do until 8, and didn't actually start racing until after 10. The weather was perfect for my leg, and the roads weren't even that wet. Rain on and off for the rest of the day, and even some snow at the top for the skiers and runners. After the whole race was over and the festivities were concluded, we refueled, drove back to the campsite, packed up, then drove back to Seattle. Didn't make it home until after 1:30 AM, and still had to take a shower before bed. 21 hours of fun.

The race went great, though, and I beat my goal time. I finished the 38 mile course in 87:47, maintaining an average speed of just 26.2 mph. My avg HR was 178, my max for the day was 193 (there was one respectable climb in the whole course, in addition to maybe 5 or 6 shorter hills and rollers). Because our first 2 legs weren't that solid, we were in 375th place overall (of 464) when the run started, but Steve Benesi was in good form and made up 97 places with a 50:12 time over some 8.2 miles, averaging just over a 6 minute mile. Starting that late (my leg was after Steve's) in the day, a lot of the fast riders were away when I got the start, so I attacked right out of the gate. I laid into the riders on the course almost continuously, setting the pace the whole time. One rider passed me on a TT bike from one of the pro teams (his skier had a disaster up top and they started way back), and I stayed with him for about a mile. After I pulled him up a hill, he took the front on the successive descent and just took off. His 175+ lb frame and more aerodynamic bike were too much for me to stay with down the hill. There were a few other people that tried to ride with me early on, but I dropped them fairly quickly and kept ramping it up. I attacked more often than anyone I was riding with, and only stayed on a wheel for a few seconds or so to grab some water, etc. About 20 miles in I was starting to catch up with some good riders, and 2 guys started working with me to stay on the offensive. It was one of the best riding experiences of my life - working with two strangers to paceline our way to a better time for the sake of our teams. These two guys were experienced racers, and helped a lot. I still set the pace maybe 70% of the time (and they let me hear about it), but there relief came at some weaker moments for me and was greatly appreciated (albeit not as frequent as I would've liked). After the race, I got some "Thanks for doing all of the dirty work out there"s and some "Great ride"s from the guys that hung with me, which was very, very flattering and satisfying. All said and done, I passed 119 people, and got passed by 1. I'm pretty proud of myself for that statistic. Unfortunately, more quality teams were fielded this year, and although last year my time would've been good for top 10%, this year it only netted me top 13% (I finished 63 in a field of 464). But given that there were some pros and former Olympians in the field, I'm very content.

The team finished, and that alone can only be considered a victory in a race that spans multiple climate zones, 90+ miles, and 7 legs of sport tackled by teams of 8 athletes.

I rode hard, had a blast, and did well. Taking a rest day today, then back on the training schedule. Big 100 mile day on June 12, which will be fun.

I've included a few pictures from Mount Rushmore and some of my other travels from a few weeks ago that never made it up earlier in this post.

One quick rant - it now costs $10 to get into Mount Rushmore National Park where the "good" photo ops are, and that makes me sick. The photo in this entry was taken from the roadside a good half-mile away, and is my photographic rebellion against this appalling truism of the current state of the US. I woke up that morning and watched the President deliver a commencement speech at West Point, which I thought was a very fitting way to start my day at Mount Rushmore. I was feeling pretty patriotic at that moment. But an hour later my hopes and nationalism were dashed to the rocks, and I left the park feeling absolutely awful. I feel like it's every American's God-given right to see Mount Rushmore - the closest thing our country has to a pilgrimage site, as far as I'm concerned. But let's leave deities out of it for a minute and break it down. I pay taxes, and that should be enough no matter who or what you pray to. I don't ever complain about how taxes go to policies I disagree with, that they fund welfare programs for people that don't pay taxes (and may not even be citizens), or any of that. But I do take offense when that isn't enough to get me into Mount Rushmore National Park. America, you've let me down.

All Good Things

2010-05-28T22:39:00.000-07:00

This week included:

- progress at the workplace. I'm starting to dive head-first into training here in Seattle, and I couldn't be more excited about working at Gold's (I know, I know...). It's a great environment, and I'm very impressed with my supervisor's knowledge, work ethic, and personality. It's going to be a summer full of learning, and I look forward to that.

- riding! Training rides, casual rides, indoor rides, and more. One day, I rode up to a stoplight and said hello to a fellow cyclist waiting at the light with a bike-tourer's load of panniers on his commuter. He asked if I wanted a drink, then handed me an airplane bottle of Tanqueray. Ever have that happen when you're driving a car? Score one for the "bikes are cool" argument.

- friends. I'm loving catching up with a lot of my old friends, and making new ones. Some things never stay the same, and some things never change.

The SkitoSea race is Sunday, and we're all heading up to Bellingham tomorrow to get ready. It's going to be an epic weekend, and there will more than likely be a tell-all blog entry upon my return. Then it's back to the grind of building my career as a trainer, continuing my work toward a successful cycling season, and (hopefully) continued strides as a person. Here's to it.

Seattle, etc.

2010-05-25T15:20:00.000-07:00

It's good to be back in the Emerald City again, and it still feels like home.

My last few days of driving across the country involved a lot of singing along to Elvis Presley (my iPod currently holds 137 of his songs, and I'm not too embarrassed to admit that I know about 85% of the words, and I did even before this drive), snow (yes, snow - Mother Nature adheres not to the calendar of the secular world), coffee, mountain driving in Montana, and a few pitstops for workouts at Gold's Gym facilities (I know few of you may consider a workout a "pitstop" but I'm a fitness junkie, after all). All things considered, everything went just about as smooth as I could've possibly imagined.

Now, back in Seattle, I have a very real sense of urgency. All of the wanderings and minor adventures of the last 6 weeks have been very pleasant and rewarding, but the time has come to settle back into the real world of genuine obligation, financial burden, routine, and a testing of commitment. A lot of my immediate future is intrinsically dependent upon my work ethic as a solo artist, and that cannot be understated.

I haven't been feeling lethargic lately, but I feel like my resolve and dedication isn't where it should be. Perhaps the standards I impose on myself are set too high (but of course I will shrug even the suspicion of this off, as I cannot yield to that amount of self-doubt), or perhaps I am actually feeling a little overwhelmed. I can't say for sure that I have put too much on my plate, because I have ingrained self-reliance into my being, and I am overly confident in what I can achieve with a little persistence, but the forbears of burnout are there. I need to realign my focus, get organized, and apply myself. I am confident in my skill set and my drive, but I need to translate these things into success with the use of organization and method. No one is going to hand things as paramount as achievement, success, or victory to you - you have to discover the road to these things on your own. And I'm learning this.

I have enjoyed some successes since getting back to Seattle, including a number of the professional front. I should have enough work to keep me afloat this summer between Gold's Gym and Rain Fitness, and I am excited to get started. I should have enough time to devote some real energy to TakeYourBike (which just solidified its first ever sponsorship) and get this thing off the ground and making strides by this September's tour, and I should have enough intelligence and drive to train well and race successfully in this, my first season as a amateur bike racer. All of that being said, I'm fully aware that "should" is not a word I'm fond of, and I'm determined to make these things happen.

I prefer "I do" or "I will".

South Dakota, Photos, and More

2010-05-22T08:22:00.000-07:00

Wow. 12+ hours of driving does some interesting things to you. Or perhaps it was the 100 consecutive Elvis Presley songs I listened to. Or perhaps it was seeing the Mitchell Corn Palace in Mitchell, SD (yes, it is a palace made of corn). Whatever it was, yesterday was some kinda thing. I arrived in Rapid City, SD (home of Mount Rushmore) last night both mentally friend and mentally invigorated (if that's even possible).

My mind was racing a mile a minute, and my nerves were shot after fighting downpours for most of the last 2 hours. Downpours of bugs and rain.

I actually drove through a cloud of bugs that (upon hitting my windshield en masse) sounded like rain on my windows. Think about that - it was a smattering of death I've never seen the likes of before. I thought I was experiencing the second coming of the Plagues. After stopping at a truck stop and scraping off the corpses with the company of my fellow insect-assassin-travellers, I press on.

After fighting through a break in the storm, I catch myself paying less and less attention to driving. I am entranced by a lightning storm stretching across the horizon to my right, as far as the eye can see. It's remarkable. The lightning is far enough away to leave no trace of thunder, and the visuals are striking. I decided that it would be safer and a lot more fun to pull over and watch for a bit that continue testing my double-tasking abilities at 87 mph.

Pulling off the freeway in rural (all of?) South Dakota is a humbling experience. Dark, dark, dark. There are no lights outside the flurried high beams of my passing traveller counterparts. I stop my car, hoist myself onto the roof of my mobile home, and stop. I stop everything, and I admire this spectacle. I'm not sure what contributed to the effect (I'm no meteorologist), but the lights were as bright as strobes and as far-reaching as anything I've ever seen. It must've encompassed a hundred miles, perhaps more. I sat on top of my truck in perfect weather (an anomaly on this particular evening) and took in this highlight of my trip for some 30 minutes. I may never see anything quite like it again, and I'm glad to say I stopped. I once read that when you rush something (like blistering across the country at 80 mph for 12 hours a day only stopping for fuel), you miss the details - as you have already mentally moved your focus to something in the future. I am glad I am learning to slow down sometimes. Do yourself a favor, and stop - just once - today and take it in for a minute. A lot more goes on than we give the world credit for.

Photos from the journey cross-country thus far are above - my personal favorite is the evidence that they actually hold high school graduations at the Corn Palace. God bless America.

Onward to Big Sky Country today. But a visit to the monument to our Presidents is in order first...

Long Overdue Update

2010-05-21T08:55:00.000-07:00

I hate it when my schedule prohibits me from updating this blog less than once a week or so, because it tends to mean that my life is exciting/demanding/high-pace enough to keep me from finding the time (those same qualities tend to contribute to good writing fodder). I have a had a blast the last few weeks of my life, thanks in big part to my wonderful family and friends. I'm more than fortunate to have all of you in my life, and I can't overstate that enough. The strength of my relationships with those close to me is paramount in all that I am doing with my life - if I had even the slightest doubts in my ability to maintain good relationships with all of you during my travels, none of this would be possible. It's a testament to the quality of the people I have chosen to surround myself with that I am doing what I am with my life.

This same insight has motivated a bit of reflection on my part: what is the price of my travels - not in dollars and cents, but in relationship dynamic? Am I a better person and more experienced because of the number of places I've been and people I've met? Have I allowed my spirit to grow by exposing myself to variant perspectives? Or have I forsaken growth of the relationships nearest to my heart - my friends, family, lovers - by placing these distances between myself and the people who matter most? Only time will tell (and even that assertion is a bold and fairly optimistic one), but I am confident that the risk is worth the reward, and I am imbued by the successes of those have have come before me. After all, travel, for me, is a search, and finding those who are the foundation of my inner circle (outside of my family) was a consequence of travel in the first place. As a matter of fact, I don't know anybody from where I was born.... I'm going to have to get on that. Who knows - maybe the person I'm supposed to meet the most (be it a friend, lover, mentor, etc.) is where I got started. I'll be sure to keep my eyes and ears open when I'm there in October on my bike.

In the last few weeks I have spent time in Seattle, the Washington D.C. area, Miami, Norfolk and Richmond, and Pittsburgh - and I'm writing this entry from a Madison, WI hotel. This country is large. And if you drive across the Appalachian area, you're going to have to pay for it. They've got some fancy roads out there, and I've rung up a $34.50 bill in tolls already. That includes a missed toll on the Chicago Skyway, which I had to go online and pay (in the amount of 80 cents) in order to avoid a $20 fee. God bless America.

Chicago is every bit as much a city as New York, and I say that with no reservations. It is just as diverse, just as crowded, just as historic, and just as interesting. Of course (after contemplating suicide in traffic for an hour in my vehicle), I toured the city on two wheels. My weapon of choice was my hand-builtthrowback commuter that I have named "Brittany", which I've built from the corpses of bikes I found in my grandfather's garage. Pictures will be coming soon - she still has some work needed to be done before her online debut. But she's a great bike, and one that I'm very proud of. As I rode along the shores of Lake Michigan (Chicago has beaches downtown!) on my converted single-speed relic with no brakes (it's not a fixed-gear bike, I just am not very good at successfully routing brake cables just yet) among dedicated "roadies" on their thousand-dollar-dream-machines in the rain I was reminded just how cool bikes are. In a five minute eye-survey, I caught an overweight woman on a beach cruiser with every possible piece of safety gear imaginable, a roadie on a $7,000 Pinarello frame, a commuter in a suit, a commuter on a packhorse of a bike with panniers and a grocery-getter box, and a true-to-form fixie hipster with no helmet and a cigarette in his mouth (yes, in his mouth. in the rain. on his bike.). Bikes are one of the great equalizers, and Susan B. Anthony even went as far to say that they were the single greatest contributer to women's rights advancement. If that's not equalizing, I don't know what is. Bikes are very, very cool.

I could go into obscene details about my travels as of late, but I don't really have the time to do that just now. Ask me when you see me, and I'll be happy to talk about it all over an espresso. That being said, here are the finer points:

- I don't miss Norfolk, VA in the least, but there are some great people there who I miss very much. You know who you are - and I was very fortunate to see most of you during my visit.

- My brother has graduated college, and is now officially much, much smarter than I am. I couldn't be prouder of that kid.

- Miami is still too hot for me, and definitely not my scene. I do love Cuban food, though, and Cuban coffee may be the foundation of a religion I start in the future.

- Were it not for the lack of anything to do (no snow, no hills, no burgeoning music scene), Old Town Alexandria would be a cool place to live. Savanna, GA is the same way, but with a music scene. Not enough to let me consider living there, but it's a very cool town.

- Chicago is a real city.

- Wrigley Field is every bit as cool as billed.

- My parents will be living in a cooler place (Japan) and doing cooler things than I will be doing (anything in Japan) as of next week.

- Indiana is almost as painful to drive through as Kanas, although that might be attributed to it costing $15.00 for no reason in tolls.

- Floyd Landis is an idiot.

- Esperanza Spalding's version of "Tell Him" is slightly better than Lauryn Hill's. But it's close. You should listen to both.

- Sleeping in an SUV laying down is vastly preferable to sleeping in the driver's seat of a Ford Thunderbird.

More to come, as always. Pictures will be up soon as well - the connection here can't handle it. Rest assured, though - they're good. Travel well, my friends.

Wow.

2010-05-06T22:05:00.001-07:00

I'm impressed. This is very cool.

http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1908415

Seattle and the Continuing Travel Saga

2010-05-04T10:26:00.000-07:00

Ah, Rain City. It's good to be back. If you've never been, I can't really explain why this place is as great as it is. It's an absolutely perfect blend of culture, sophistication, natural beauty, and metropolitan living in one wonderful place. Sure, it rains, but not as much as you'd think. And that should sway you from checking out a place, regardless. It's just water, after all...

It's great to be back, and great to see all of the old friends. It's eerie how comfortable it all is - the places and sights and sounds are all too familiar, and seeing friends for the first time in years is just like I stepped out to take a phone call and walked back in the room. I'm very fortunate to have found such lifelong friends so early in my life.

4 job interviews in 2 days will determine what my summer holds for me - wish me luck. I'm optimistic that I can bring something to the table at all of the facilities I'm applying with, and I hope to have a very productive and fulfilling employment this summer. I'm also very fortunate to have found a way to turn a passion into a profession for the second time in my life so early on.

After catching my second Mariner's game of the season later today (they'll win eventually, I'm sure of it), I'll be back at the packing/moving tasks once again, and on a train to the airport tomorrow morning. I'm excited to hit the road again and to get back East and see friends and family, and looking forward to catching up with the old crew in VA. Even more importantly (no disrespect to those of you in VA), I'm looking forward to seeing my little brother graduate college. For those of you who have done that before, you may have a unique appreciation of walking that path. Or you may write it off as just another thing that you're supposed to and should do. For me, it's a pretty amazing accomplishment. I know how much that kid has poured into this, and it's pretty ridiculous if you ask me. I pride myself on being dedicated, ambitious, and versatile, but college is a feat that I am ever-impressed and borderline intimidated by. I have all the respect in the world for those of you who have met that challenge, and I look forward to celebrating my brother's accomplishments with him next week. I'm proud of my little brother - there is less than zero doubt in that statement.

Oh yeah - one last thing:

Despair, Excitement, Exhaustion.

2010-05-02T22:43:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been exhilarating - ups, downs, and sidewayses (yes, I made up the word "sidewayses", but you know what I mean).

Words cannot even begin to describe the events of May 2, 2010, but I'll give it a valiant effort here: My day started exactly as planned, almost down to the minute. Perfect. Then the trials began in Steamboat Springs, with a genuine whiteout blizzard (if "Bad Weather Bingo" was a game, by the end of this drive I'd have won". My nerves about me, I struggled through the storm in my less-than-ideal vehicle for the situation, and eventually pushed all the way through to Utah. Here, the real festivities began.

After passing through Vernal, UT (see above dinosaur), I found myself in the desert. The middle-of-nowhere, tumbleweed-ridden, Utah desert. Which, of course, is the only place where real car trouble can happen. If you've never had a true blowout flat wherein your vehicle bottoms out on the road and your car is fishtailing crazily on 3 wheels, I can't explain it to you. If you've had one, I don't need to try. The point: my rear left tire is in multiple pieces across the highway, and I'm not in good shape. Unfazed (this isn't my first rodeo, after all), I get out on the side of the highway and start unloading my trunk. Of course, my spare tire is underneath pretty much everything else I own, so 15 minutes later my personal belongings are vomited on the side of the Utah highway in a hefty pile.

As I'm kneeling down and putting on the spare donut tire (just enough to get me to the tire shop back in town - 6 miles back the other way), a Utah sheriff pulls up. Awesome. I immediately recall that my registration is expired, and have to laugh at how hilariously unfortunate this all is. The officer educates me on why changing a tire on the side of the road is a bad idea, and recommends that next time I try and have a more convenient flat tire. Fortunately, he sympathizes with my predicament and chooses not to write me a ticket for the registration. See: elation, dumbfounded luck. He heads back to protect and serve, and again I'm alone on the highway.

I lower the car with my jack, and feel as though I escaped a rasther painful registration ticket. Smugly, I let the car hit the dirt, and am immediately unsettled: my donut has maybe 10 psi in it, and there's no way it's going to make it to town with so little air and so much weight from my life possessions weighing down on it. Of course, the officer has just left, and I'm in the middle of the desert, alone. I try to maintain some optimism (after all, it's only 6 miles back the other way to town), and figure I'll go for it. We all know how expensive calling for a tow is... So I rally my spirits and hop in the front seat, beaming with determination to will this car back to town. I turn the keys over (I'm sure you could finish this thought...), and, of course, the car won't start. Cruel, cruel fate.

I practice some more colorful language (I won't detail it here, my mother reads this blog), and my optimism is shot. My girl has seen her day I suppose, and since it didn't start just a few days before this trip without a jump I can't say I'm surprised. It was a gamble to even attempt this Colorado-Washington journey in that car, and I realize that. So let's recap: I'm on the side of the road in the Utah desert with 3 functional tires, no cell service, and my car won't start. High five.

After a good 20 minutes of walking up and down the side of the road searching for cell service/working out some angst, I return to my car (having failed to find cell service) to give it one last effort to start the car. Try. Fail. As I'm redefining "effective self-deprecation" in the front seat of my automobile carcass, a soccer-mom type van comes to a halt on the other side of the road (yes, we're still on the highway). It's no soccer mom, though, but Mario Hernandez. Mario Hernandez is my guardian angel, and he lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Super Mario was kind enough to stop and see if I was alright, which I never thought in a million years would happen on the highway. Maybe it's the spiritual overtone of Utah, maybe he's just a nice guy, but I'm pretty impressed with the chance benevolence. I'm stopping to help the next person I see who needs it - you should, too.

Mario exits his van after turning around via a spectacular U-turn (yes, on the highway), and, carrying a spit-jar for his sunflower seeds, comes over and asks me to pop the hood. No hello, no introduction, no even asking what the problem is. He just says, "Pop the hood." and spits a few sunflower seeds out. He runs through an "Engines 101" troubleshooting guide in his head, and after about 5 minutes he proclaims, "It's the fuel pump. You've got no fuel." I'm pretty defeated at this point, because I'm vividly aware of the pain and suffering (not to mention cost) involved with replacing a fuel pump. See: $1,000 repair bill and an overnight stay in Vernal, Utah.

He can tell I'm on my last legs, but Mario simply laughs and says, "Let's try and get you out of here." At this point I don't even care - so I'm rolling with this. Then Mario goes back to his van and pulls out a 20ish foot rope with a hook on each end. No AAA phone call, no offering a ride back to town, just a rope. Yes, I'm aware this is a crazy idea, but at this point I figure if we fail and die, it'll cost less than repairing my car, so I'm on board. Then he tells me, "We can't U-turn like this, so we'll go to the next town." What next town? The one 26 miles away. I look at my dysfunctional donut, look at Mario, and give a thumbs up. He reciprocates with a smile and a sunflower seed.

5 minutes later we're tied together (yes, our cars) and he's telling me to put it in neutral and watch my brakes (my brakes - which, like my power steering, are no longer working very well). So I'm in the front seat of my automobile/corpse in neutral, hands glued to the wheel, perhaps 18 feet off of Mario's bumper. I still have my life's possessions in the car, and I still have 10 psi in my non-functional donut. He sticks his arm out of the window of his soccer-mom van and gives a thumbs up. I fail to see the "thumbs-up" part of all of this at this point, but I'm rolling with it. This ridiculousness is all I've got at this point. Thumbs up means "go", and we're off.

Seriously, we're off. Within minutes his thumb is still up and we're pushing 50. "Hold together, girl", I'm thinking. "I don't think I can hold the wheel any tighter", I'm thinking. "Mario is still nonchalantly chewing and spitting sunflowers seeds - I can see through your rear window", I'm thinking. We continue on this way (thumbs up for "we're going for it", thumbs down for "use your failing brakes, we're going downhill") for miles. Uphill. Downhill. Sidehill. I'm sweating buckets, and inventing new deities by the minute to pray to in hopes of aiding my plight. 26 miles and 274 new gods later, we've pulled this thing off. I'm speechless, but we pulled this thing off.

We coast into a NAPA Auto Parts store, and Mario hops out like he just finished a casual errand and unhooks our cars. He says, "Good luck.". He shakes my hand. He spits a sunflower seed on the ground, and he gets back into his van. That's it. I'm convinced he's my guardian angel. His name is Mario Hernandez, and he lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.

I'm still a little dumbfounded by the fact that we survived that madness, but I try and focus on the reality: I'm still stranded in a ghost town in Utah with 3 tires and a bad fuel pump. I assert myself and walk into the store and find a NAPA employee, and I unburden my precarious situation. He walks with me to my car and we run through the same troubleshooting that Super Mario and I ran through, and we (again) determine that the death knell is indeed the fuel pump. He puts his arm on my shoulder and (in the way a nurse relays information to a terminal cancer patient) tells me, "It's the fuel pump, kid. I'll see what we've got - you just hold tight. We'll get this sorted out, alright? Hang in there." I know I'm dead in the water.

As he's strutting back to the store with the confidence of somebody who just landed a big sales contract he stops, turns to me, and asks, "Have you tried the fuel pump reset button?" fuel pump reset button?!*&*!*?!!? Yes, apparently Ford put a fuel pump reset button on their mid-90s vehicles so they didn't blow up in the event of a crash. And yes, although it wasn't a crash, when my car bottomed out during the flat, it triggered that failsafe. After digging out all of the personal belongings in my car's trunk and spewing them out into the road in a vehicular vomit reprise, I discover that the fuel pump reset button (a shiny red dot of salvation tucked into the back corner of my trunk) has indeed been triggered. I'm giddy with anticipation. Once I go through the ceremonious act of pressing the button, I inch my way to the front seat. The key is in my hand, as a dragonslayer wields an axe as he moves in for the kill. I attack, turn the ignition, and the sweet sound of victory fills my ears. Let's recap: I went from being stranded with 3 tires and no fuel pump to being in a town and a spare tire away from being fully back in the race. Ridiculous.

I all but idle my car down the street to a tire lot, barely breathing in hopes of not upsetting my battered baby girl (I was whispering to her the whole day before this incident, "All you need to do is get me to Seattle..."), and coast in. I'm a bit confused when I see the bay doors closed until I realize it's 5 PM. See: every horrible word you can think of. I can't be denied, not this close. All I need is a tire. I see an employee inside closing the last door and I spring up to him, my car still idling in the lot, and literally beg him to help me out. I unload my story on him, and his amazement reinforces my ludicrous good fortune. The guys at the shop are so blown away by all of this that they not only throw on a tire (their last tire of that size), but they waive the late-service fee. I walk out with only a $78.27 expense receipt. Let's recap: I was stranded with no fuel pump and 3 tires in the middle of the desert, and it cost my $78 to get out alive. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

The next time you think you're out of luck, trust me: it's out there. You can get luckier. I swear.

The Road Ahead, Literally

2010-04-29T16:12:00.000-07:00

The car is packed, the sails are set, and the cow is fat. Time for the slaughter.

Yes, I get to see Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington in the next 2 days.

Yes, I will be driving my Thunderbird with my bike in the front seat, chained to my wrist.

Yes, the rest of my earthly possessions will be in the back seat.

Yes, when jumpstarting my car this morning, I blew out the stereo and will have no music.

Yes, I'm considering driving with earbuds in at a low volume, and I don't care what you think. (Mom, I do care what you think, and won't do that just so you won't worry)

Yes, I will be spending 600 consecutive miles of my weekend on I-84.

Yes, I will be reviewing two hotels for Yahoo! Travel solely on the basis of their continental breakfasts, which I will be sampling after assessing the serenity of their parking lots overnight.

Yes, I will be signing up for trial memberships under aliases at two gyms along the way to stay on my training program.

Yes, I know all of this is ridiculous.

And no, I wouldn't have it any other way.

21 hours of America, baby.

Preparing for the Road

2010-04-28T12:14:00.000-07:00

As astounding as it seems to me, and as near-unbelievable as it may be, tomorrow is my last day in Dillon. It's been a very rewarding and enjoyable 3 weeks. I've trained with more discipline than I ever have before (it's easier than you think when you live in the gym and your profession demands at least 10 hours a week of working out), enjoyed some of the most picturesque views Colorado has to offer (I would have preferred to use "panoramas" instead of "views", but I couldn't bring myself to utilize such cheesy alliteration in this blog), got in a few more (perhaps my last of the season - gasp!) snow days, and spent a lot of time reading, writing, and relaxing. It's been borderline luxurious (although my mother would probably not consider living out of a backpack for 3 weeks and sleeping on a couch that may or may not house a dead mouse (I can avoid alliteration, but witty rhyming was irresistible) in the back room of a gym "luxurious, I would, and do).

All that being said, it's still exciting to have the open road lying ahead. I leave first thing (well, second thing - I have to spin first, of course) Friday morning, heading points northwest to Seattle, WA. After almost 8 years of telling all of my friends I'd come back, I'm finally making good on my word. Interestingly enough, I don't get even the slightest impression that any of them ever doubted me. I'm excited to spend some legitimate time in the Pacific Northwest again - part of me never really left. It's not so much that I know it's my home, but that I know it can be my home base.

Seattle is near the Cascade mountains (which serve to complement both my cycling and snowboarding obsessions), the Puget Sound (for the stray day - more witty rhyming - when I need the water), Canada (it's always fun to be able to shoot into another country for a day or even just a beer should you feel like it ), and is home to a major international airport (which makes getting to major international destinations a lot more accessible).

I struggle to find things I don't agree with about Seattle. I look forward to jazz shows, city (real city!) commuting by bike, excessive amounts of coffee, and the hundreds of other little luxuries a city proper has to offer. I look forward to reconnecting with friends, and to finding new ones. I look forward to learning how to ride a bike all over again. I look forward to rejoining my first kickball team on the field of competition. I look forward to what I don't know yet to look forward to.

"The world is as a book, and those who do not travel read but only the first page." - St. Augustine

My First Ever Repost

2010-04-26T09:12:00.000-07:00

Below is an excerpt from the Do Lectures (www.dolectures.com) blog, and I felt it was worth reposting. Enjoy.

The magic is in the middle.

If the polo mint didn’t have a hole, it wouldn’t be the same.

Of course, you would have around 25% more mint.

But the magic would have gone.

The Polo would no longer be The Polo.

It’s often the case of what you don’t do, don’t have, don’t say, ends up defining you.

Take The Do Lectures as another example. It’s special because of the bit in the middle.

Of course, the talks are inspiring.

And yes, the attendees are the most progressive and driven people you could ever wish to meet.

But those things alone don’t explain the magic.

The bit in the middle is in the canteen, in the pub late at night, around the campfire until dawn. It’s all the talk that takes place there that gives The Do Lectures the magic.

You see, most talks, most conferences do a great job of inspiring you, then you have a cup of tea or a beer and off you go on your way home.

But ideas need conversation, they need debate, they need challenging, they need people with different viewpoints, they need airplay.

In short, they need you to stay.

One Of My Clients Has It Together

2010-04-25T19:31:00.000-07:00

Below is a link to a story about one of my clients here in Dillon - he has successfully built the county's first net-zero energy home (meaning it produces more energy than it uses). Using special building materials, solar paneling, a masonry heater, and many more very cool advances, he's got the coolest house on the block.

http://www.summitdaily.com/article/20100422/NEWS/100429960/1078&ParentProfile=1055

Congrats, Clark - I'm inspired.

A thought

2010-04-24T21:52:00.000-07:00

How can one compete against others without first staking a claim of victory within one's self?

I think of this while pondering the names and legacies of the great champions in their venues. No matter the arena, this statement holds altruistic.

I'm challenging myself, because I have not yet won. I have not defeated all of the shortcomings that reside inside of me, and their strangleholds - although abstract and even fragile at times - continue to try and hold me back. Their cries of restraint are what limit my potential, not the will or the talent or the positioning of those ahead of me.

I think of this not because I have misstep, but because I believe I am starting to learn how to succeed.

Christmas

2010-04-22T08:58:00.000-07:00

Yes, Christmas. It's snowing outside, the NFL is on TV today, and I ate entirely too much food for breakfast. It's just like Christmas.

The training week is going well, and I feel as though my body is starting to catch up to the demands I'm imposing on it. 25 hours a week is a lot for a body to get used too. I'm loving the new bike more and more every day, and it seems as though this investment has fueled my desire to succeed on the bike more so then ever. My view of the wonderful two-wheeled machine is changing slowly, from just a way to get around to that and so much more - a fitness tool, a weapon in competition, a benchmark to measure one's self with. You can spend all the time working on the vanity of physical appearance, but I know how true it is that you're only as fit as your heart and lungs.

My days have been consisting of a lot of training, a lot of resting, a lot of reading books (I'm in the middle of Timothy Findley's "Famous Last Words", a riveting novel about an eccentric author's life and demise in the madness of WW2), and a lot of chocolate milk and peanut butter. Admit it, you wish you could copiously imbibe chocolate milk by the gallon as a part of your fitness protocol. Bike more, and you probably can (gratuitous plug for takeyourbike.org).

Touching on the TYB front, things are progressing. We're refining our website daily, building our support base, jumping through all of the legal hoops that are involved with setting up a NPO (trust me, there are many), and fine tuning our promotions efforts as they pertain to our Border2Border tour this fall. Realizing that most of the population can't drop their job and other obligations for 5-6 weeks and bike down the Pacific coast, we're going to be marketing and organizing "minitours" such as Seattle-Portland, San Francisco-LA, and LA-San Diego. The main benefits of this move include appeal to local/regional sponsors (local bike shops, bike clubs, and other startup advocacy groups) and accessibility to our target market (the real commuters, for a whom a 2-3 day bike trip is within reach amidst their life priorities). This is most definitely a growing process, and one that I'm rather enjoying at that. The options of the world never cease to humble me by shedding light on that which I don't know.

It's astounding how a simple snowfall and the right song can define a mood for a day... my optimism and enthusiasm today is proof of that. Do yourself a favor and take a listen to Nada Surf's "Inside of Love". It's worth making the time.

Ah... weekends.

2010-04-18T20:46:00.001-07:00

It's an intriguing feeling to wake up with one's legs feeling heavier than when you went to sleep, and then to check the time and realize that your body demanded a full ten hours of sleep. For some of you this may be a common happening (the sleep part), but for me a ten hour night's sleep is near unheard of. Taking into account the sensation of ballast in my legs, I couldn't deny the argument that my body needed it. I suppose these are the sorts of revelations I can look forward to as I acclimate myself into a full-fledged training lifestyle.

You could argue that I've been living a training lifestyle for some time now, but what I'm referencing here is an entirely different beast. I would argue that the corner was turned when I started viewing meals as "refueling" or sleep as "recovery". To do so - in my mind, anyway - dissipates a certain humanity from the day's offerings, but within the sacrifice lies the discipline. It's not to say that I don't enjoy a good meal with good company or a good night's sleep for what they are, nor do I diminish the value of these things as they stand, but my perspective has shifted. The first steps are being taken.

I enjoyed my weekend (which includes a "rest" day in my self-imposed training program) smiting Mother Nature and going snowboarding. I had grand plans to do some cycling, but a mid-April storm fouled up the streets - unswayed, I headed for the resorts and chased down some turns.

I spent both Saturday and Sunday at Copper Mountain, which is a freestyle Mecca in the snowboarding world (I'd argue top 10 in the US) and the home base of Camp Woodward, the US's premier snowboard and skateboard training facility. The camp is home to a number of trampolines, foam pits, air bags, and dive pools - all of which exists solely to allow riders to hone their skills in a low consequence environment before waging battle in the real venue. Pretty cool stuff, and a very unique perspective on the sports.

Copper was a good time, and their many parks (you can hit 5 in one run) provided a plethora of stimulation for my freestyle-oriented mind. I didn't push the limits much, but I had a lot of fun looking at some new features, thinking creatively (one of my favorite lines of the weekend was a rail-to-fence ollie out of the park- to fence ollie back in- to jib barrel combo), and playing around. Something about closing weekend brings a little mischief and mayhem out of people, and throwing snowballs and spraying unsuspecting skiers never gets old...

I'm back at my home/office/training compound now, and am fresh off of a 90 minute hammerfest on the spin bike (the streets were still too fouled up to launch an outdoor assault on my legs), and am looking forward to that aforementioned "recovery". I have a heavy week ahead of me, and hope to do some sightseeing as well.

Keeping busy is a skill only granted to the creative and a burden only laid upon the subservient. Perspective is everything.

Dillon

2010-04-16T16:00:00.000-07:00

Dillon is nestled right in the heart of Summit County resorts cluster along I-70 in Western Colorado, and on a nice day it's very easy to see why people like it here. I like it here. The pace is 1/8 of that of Denver, but you have much of the same amenity base here and four times the scenery (see above photos, which I took today). You're a free bus ride away from 8 of the biggest name resorts in the country, and while many of these resorts are still open for skiing up in the hills (I use "up in the hills" relatively - Dillon is at 9,100 feet), I can easily ride my bike for miles in every direction in 50+ degree weather. Not a bad deal.

All is going well with the bootcamp I'm running here - the participants are excited to learn some new tricks and give their own fitness regimens a booster shot, and I'm expounding upon my experience in the fitness industry every day. It hurts a bit to wake up at 5:30 every morning and lead a spin class within an hour, but I feel like a million dollars by 8 AM.

A note on my experience here: I'm currently living in the back room of a gym, sleeping on a couch and operating day-to-day out of my backpacks. For those of you who have a shred of normalcy in your own lives, this may sound weird and unappealing. But for me it couldn't be better: I have a shower, a coffeepot, a place to sleep that isn't in my car, I'm 10 seconds from my office when I wake up in the morning, and I'm enjoying every minute of it. Vagabonding on your own presents a very interesting phenomenon: I have the time to do exactly what I want. Today I woke up, taught spin, enjoyed breakfast, listened to some jazz while working on some necessary client programming, went out for a ride, enjoyed a nutritious lunch, read every last page of Lance Armstrong's "It's Not The Bike", and now am updated this blog and recovering. I have a class to lead in an hour, then I get to enjoy my own strength workout and unwind with some tea afterwards. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my day. No obligations outside of what I committed to by my own volition, and no petty "real world" errands. Think: you don't have to mow your lawn when you don't have a lawn, and you don't have pay your cable bill when you don't have a TV. It's liberating.

Living in a gym is also terribly conducive to managing a 25 hour-a-week training program into your schedule. Again, it might not work for you, but spending 3+ hours a day working on my cycling or functional fitness in the gym is incredibly satisfying for me. Perhaps that's why I find myself currently residing in a gym....

This weekend I'm getting in some snowboarding at Copper on their closing weekend, riding my bike a bit, and sleeping in (think: 8 AM). I'll try and keep you all updated and be sure to take some photos.

Go have fun this weekend, will you?

Catching Up

2010-04-14T09:05:00.000-07:00

Phew. It's been a crazy last few days - sorry about the lapse in blogging. It's tough to live the dream and juggle computer time all in the same day sometimes.

To catch up on the last few days' happenings:

- I spent 2 fun-filled days in Denver, and had one of the craziest cycling experiences of my life.

- I saw the Colorado Rockies play baseball at Coors Field.

- I attended a bike shop in Littleton, CO's grand opening and geeked out on $14,000 bikes with a bunch of weirdos like me.

- I had a Coors in Golden, CO where they brew the stuff

- I snowboarded in Arapahoe Basin and enjoyed one of the best park days of my season.

- I spent more than half of my reported taxable income from 2009 on a new bike.

- I rode that bike and realized that it was entirely, unequivocally worth it.

- I checked in at Elevation Fitness in Dillon, CO, where I'm running a 2-session-a-day, 3 week cycling boot camp (yeah, I'm getting paid to do what I'd be doing anyway. You're jealous)

- I've eaten a lot of bagels and peanut butter, and drank a lot of chocolate milk (again, you're jealous).

So let's recap in detail, shall we?

My first day in Denver I spent on my bike (of course) and was fortunate enough to stop at Adrenalin Cycles in Littleton (a suburb of Denver). The new shop is run by some of the most enthusiastic and personable bike geeks (said with the utmost of respect and admiration) I've ever met. Sean and Ryan - keep it up. They stock some ridiculously high-end race frames, so if you're into cycling and want some in-person bike porn (sorry Mom) to look at, check out their shop when you're in Denver. Their grand opening featured some excellent food and green tea, which was delicious, and I spent a good hour just oogling and talking about bikes with all of the other obsessives in attendance. Think: Star-Trek-convention-level-nerdiness.

Day 2 in Denver was a blast. After a week of trying bikes and searching high and low, I found my dream bike (for the moment...). It's a 2010 Cannondale Supersix 3 (pictured above), and it's ridiculous. I invested more than half of my reported taxable income from 2009 (it's a pricy bike, but this stat is much more a reflection of my less-than-poverty level income than the price tag) on this gorgeous machine, and after 2 rides I am 100% certain I made the right choice. It's going to be a fun race season, and I'm determined to kill it. To quote Johan Buyneel - "if we're racing, we might as well win."

I then went and enjoyed a Rockies game a Coors Field - met some new friends and had a great time. I don't care who you are - major league baseball games are cool. Some of my new friends asked if I wanted to grab a beer after the 14 inning game, which got my wheels turning (bike pun). I decided on the spot that grabbing a Coors in Golden (home of the Coors factory) was the best idea out at that specific moment, so I hopped on my bike and set out. 28 miles, a lot of climbing, a 6 mile stretch of Colorado backcountry roads with no streetlights, a failing headlight, a slow leak in my bike tire, and one of the most intense solo rides of my life later I sat down and enjoyed a pint of the good stuff. Worth nothing: you get some weird looks when ordering a beer at 12:30 AM with lycra cycling pants, cycling gloves, and a flickering headlight on. I didn't care though - I had more fun that day than anyone at the bar. Plus, they had a claw machine that housed a lobster tank, and you could claw machine your dinner. It was too late for that, but what a cool deal. If you're really good at claw machines, you could land the cheapest lobster dinner ever.

On a race note, the Mt. Baker SkitoSea team I'm competing with is complete. We're racing under the moniker Team MurderKill, and I bought a sweet skull-laden black and red bike jersey to celebrate the occasion. If you want to see just how epic this is going to be, check out www.skitosea.com. I'm doing the road bike leg (of course), and some of my best friends are on the team with me. I can't wait. The 1st place cycling finisher managed a 30+ mph average pace for the 38 mile course, so I've go some training to do.

Snowboarding at A-Basin was a good time, despite the snow conditions. I even ran into another guy wearing a Sonics jersey in the park. We high-fived.

Running this cycling camp is a hell of a thing. I'm 24, have a mohawk, am living on the couch in the back room of the gym, and teaching Spin every morning at 6:30 AM and running a weights/core training session every day at 6:30 PM. I'm making a mental note so I don't forget this - when I'm old and lame I'll be able to laugh about how cool this was. Basically, 6 people have paid money to spend time with me every time the clock hits 6:30 for the next 3 weeks. Hammer time.

Doug, the owner of the gym, is the man. He's a New Jerey native and a relic from the powerlifting/bodybuilding golden days, and has a miniature yippity dog (I think it's a type of terrier) named Momo. It's hilarious. But he's a gym fanatic like the rest of us and an avid musician. Not to mention he's letting me sleep at the gym (a nice alternative to the front seat of my T-Bird). He teaches guitar here in town as well, and we're hoping to be able to sit down and play something this week. I'll be sure to let you all know how that goes.

Well, it's noon and I need to fuel up before setting out on a 40 mile day touring the Dillon area. I'm circling the lake, which should be very scenic. I'm riding my new race bike, and I'm brimming with excitement, so it's time to go.

Takeyourbike.org launches in 1 day! Stay posted, and try and get a bike ride in today or tomorrow to celebrate with me!

Denver

2010-04-10T08:24:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was yet another fantastic day on the road, with all sorts of exploring, interesting people, and great sights.

I arrived in the Denver area midmorning after a delicious breakfast and some stimulating conversation (see Colorado Springs entry) but decided to challenge myself. Instead of heading all the way into town, I parked my "mobile home" in Littleton, some miles outside of the downtown area. Why not? Through no extra effort whatsoever I afforded myself some 20+ miles of additional cycling and exploring. Why not take my bike?

I decided to create a game of my day yesterday. Instead of relying on technology and the mundane precision it provides, I planned my day (in terms of sights and places I wanted to see) and wrote down the cross streets for each location on a piece of paper. I set out from my "base camp" with a bottle of water, a few Clif Bars, my camera, my cell phone, and this piece of paper. In doing so I created an exciting adventure: I'd actually have to explore. I'd have to actually engage local people for insight and direction. In forcing this "predicament" upon myself I opened a world of interaction, which brought an indelible realism to the day's events. The next time you're traveling in an unfamiliar part of the world, I highly recommend trying this exercise.

My first stop was a bike shop (go figure) called Adrenalin Cycles. Stop number 4 on my quest to find a real-life Ridley frame to tangibly experience outside the realm of the internet brought a result I'm used to by now: they don't actually have any bikes on hand. The staff consisted of two very cool racer-types, though, and I stayed and geeked out on bikestuff for over an hour. I'll be attending their "grand opening" today to show my support. Good people. All proceeds from every Adrenalin Cylces shirt they sell benefit bikesfortykes.org, which is a very cool organization. If you're in Denver, stop by and buy one.

From there I set out for Wheat Ridge, CO - some 15 miles away - to go pick up my ticket to today's Rockies game at Coors Field. God bless craigslist.org. $10? You've got to be kidding me. Try finding a cooler way to enjoy 3+hours of your day for under $10. I dare you (Seattle residents who can go to Mariners games, you're excused). I arrived at the library only to find out that they're closed, which confused me since I was planning on meeting my vendor at her work (the library). Upon calling her, I realize that in my haste I misread the email, and she works there on Saturday, and that she would be at home on Friday. Where does she live? In the neighborhood less than 200 yards from the bike shop I just left. Irony. You can't make this stuff up.

After about a minute of laughing about my stupidity and kicking myself a bit, I remembered that I thoroughly enjoyed my bike ride there, and that I was now on my bike in a new place, which is the whole goal of the day anyway. Filled with an odd sense of accomplishment, I pressed on.

It of course couldn't be any other way (thus is the essence of travel/exploration) my detour led me to discover some very cool places. Highlands is a suburb/borough of Denver, and a very quaint one at that. Think: Carytown, Richmond, VA or Fremont, Seattle, Washington or Ghent, Norfolk, VA. Probably the coolest little shop I stumbled across was Urbanistic, a combination fixed-gear/commuter bike shop and loose leaf tea lounge. Very cool. The bike mechanic, Ethan, might join the TakeYourBike.org team on our Canada-Mexico tour in September. I'm building an army.

I then hopped on Speer Avenue and cascaded toward downtown with the exuberance that only a winter off the bike could bring and stopped at least a dozen times to take pictures and soak in the city feel. I think that there is a large part of me that is at home in the city; although I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the woods at the end of the road (Crested Butte), I am relieved to find myself in a big city again. A summer in Seattle is sure to be invigorating.

I spent at least 2 hours just cruising around downtown, finding bike shops and meeting new people - as a game I pedaled around until I found a local fixie commuter and then followed them to their destination. I got some good exercise, found some cool places (including a coffee shop at the end of a one-way alley, that I would've never found otherwise), and met some cool people. A girl named Veronica has the sexiest single-speed Bianchi in the world. She lives in Denver, and she taught me how to correctly pronouce Biciclette.

My last stop on the downtown tour was Coors Field - site of the Colorado Rockies' home opener. "Zoo" would be an appropriate descriptor.

More to come soon - all of yesterday was excellent, but they're closing the breakfast room at the hotel I'm currently borrowing breakfast, electricity to charge my phone and computer, internet, and I should probably exeunt before they start asking questions. Adventure!

Listen to Jose Gonzalez' "Veneer" record. It's excellent.

Colorado Springs

2010-04-09T07:15:00.000-07:00

Colorado Springs brought a lot of breathtaking scenery, some great conversations, a lot of good cycling (albeit with more headwinds and hills than I've ever tackled in one day), and another fantastic day on the road. I started my day with an americano and a copy of USA Today at the fanciest hotel in town (they had an appealing little coffeeshop in the lobby, and I felt like putting on the ritz this particular morning), then proceeded to come back to reality and went to the visitor's bureau to wash up in the bathroom sink. After a pleasant conversation with Paul, the clerk at the visitor's center (who, at 64, is still an avid hiker and was beaming with pride while letting me know that his plans for the weekend were to push 7 miles up the Pike's Peak trailhead and 7 miles back), I set out with a map and my bike to do some exploring.

65 miles and 6 or so hours later I had ridden through downtown Colorado Springs, the scenic old capitol city of Old Colorado, the unbelievable Garden of the Gods (my second time!), the quaint Flying W Ranch, the adventurous Greenway Bike Trail (dirt path and all), and the Air Force Academy. I even found the time to stop at 4 area bike shops and oogle their fancy new bikes (I even got to take a 2009 Felt F4 SL out for a spin, which was a blast).

Downtown Colorado Springs is very much a city proper, and has a tremendous amount of cultural variance. There are cyclists aplenty (as expected), but there is also a large contingent of monkeysuit-clad 9-to-5ers and hardhat-toting laborworkers. Street vendors are not uncommon (a la NYC), and there are plenty of chain stores and restaurants to go around. Maybe I wasn't quite ready for this after a winter in Crested Butte...

Old Colorado is place that my mother would love to look at from the car window, but not quite one she'd be chomping at the bit to get out and explore by foot. Despite all of the quaint antique shops, etc., it seems to me that they town sort of deliberately let's sanitation slide a bit here in a vain effort at "authenticity". Just my observation, though. I enjoyed my time there, and almost bought my mother a flower put that was on sale at 65% off before I realized that I have no room for a 4 foot tall flowerpot in my car and moreover that she couldn't possibly get that thing to the Far East. C'est la vie.

The Garden of the Gods: go. Stop whatever you're doing and go. It's worth it. Trust me.

After about 25 miles more of fighting up the infamous Colorado Springs hill climbs (it's evident why so many athletes live and train here), I arrived at the Greenway Bike Trail. I was excited to get on a bike trail, as I am primarily a road rider out of necessity. Much to my dismay, about 1/8 of a mile in the path went to dirt. Unswayed, I charged forward with my sense of adventure being too strong to shelve away. It was an interesting ride, and some loose sand almost claimed victory over me on more than one occasion, but I made it. I had reached the Air Force Academy, and the last stop on my self-planned day tour.

The first obstacle in my path was a stopped train. I waited about 30 seconds before a gentleman in a pickup at the front of the wait said they had been there staring at a stopped railcar for some 40 minutes. As appealing as that sounded, I thought I'd utilize my mobility and solve the problem actively. Sitting in the cab of a pickup chainsmoking Newports didn't seem quite as appealing to me as it did to him, I suppose. I followed the rail line about 1/4 up the road until I reached an endpass - a small tributary of the stream running through the Academy. My thoughts centered around one truism: train + stream = bridge and underpass. I unclipped and carried my bike on my shoulder through some brush past a "Home of the West Nile Virus" sign and carefully crossed the stream using my long-ago honed hopscotch abilities, triumphantly reaching the other side without a scratch. Victory was mine. Only 3 miles of clean, paved road separated me from my day's goal: Falcon Stadium (over 30 miles from my starting point for the day) and the AFA Airfield.

The stadium was a treat to see in person; the backdrop of the Pikes Peak range and the clear Colorado sky was the icing on the cake. After a gratuitous photo op and some self-high-fiving I made my way to the airfield and spent a few minutes watching planes take off and land. Great fun.

A painful ride "home" (dead into the wind for 25+ miles) left me pretty exhausted, so I called it an early night last night. Early to bed, early to rise - and my 7 AM start today will serve me well.

I just had the most pleasant of conversations with an elderly couple traveling from Idaho to Cozumel, Mexico to celebrate their anniversary. How cool is that? The couple and I were forced to sit together at breakfast (the hotel lobby isn't built to accommodate the sort of numbers they had today - perhaps they weren't planning to host vagabonds like me who stumble in from their parking lot chateaux at 7 in the morning), and ended up talking about every little thing for some 45 minutes. The gentleman and I talked football (he's a Boise State University and Seattle Seahawks (!) fan), and his lovely wife and I talked about the gorgeous scenery to be found here in Colorado. I recommended Crested Butte, and if she has her way they'll be seeing that town sooner than later. The gentlemen seems to be a disciple of the golden rule - happy wife, happy life (thanks Dad).

On to Denver, more cycling, and some bike shopping. Sunshine and blue skies.

PS I just used the miracle of Craigslist to score Rockies tickets for tomorrow! The agenda: morning park laps on the snowboard at Arapahoe Basin, then a Denver bike ride to Coors Field and the great American pastime.

Keep the rubber side down, team.