6 inches forward and 5 inches back...
Minot, North Dakota. Been battling headwinds for the past 4 days. Not fun. Yesterday was the most challenging cycling day so far. There were gusts of up to 30 mph in my face. All you can hear is the roar of the wind. In a 30-mph headwind, every inch you gain is an inch you have to fight to cross. You put in about 3 times as much energy and get back lest than a 1/3 of the result. And after a day or so, a steady headwind can start to work on you both psychologically as well as physically. By the end of the day yesterday...a 48 mile day at barely 9 miles per hour, I was not in a great state of mind. But that quickly passed as I started to think of the headwind in a more abstract kind of way and stood the physical headwind next to all of the other headwinds in my life. Puts it all into perspective. Also: I need to mention that 5 days ago I was enjoying a 20 mph headwind. It's the fickle finger of fate people! You never know when it will point at you (Jeez, I just channeled my 10th grade Latin teacher. That nazi said stuff like that all the time and threatened to have me expelled from school if I didn't change out of my Bon Jovi "Slippery When Wet" concert t-shirt. 20/20 hindsight, it was a fashion boo boo to wear said t-shirt in the first place, but still...what a headwind that guy was.
Today was a decent cycling day. Still headwinds, but they're diminishing somewhat. I've made it another short day for me and will probably Motel tonight. I think I'm going to try and make Grand rks, ND for the forth. If anybody knows of anything exciting to do in Grand Forks, ND on the forth of July, please let me know.
Stats for the past week are forthcoming. Tomorrow, I think I'll be in the geographical center of North America, Rugby, ND. Uh...woo?
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Hoofed Menage
Took this picture riding into Glasgow, MT yesterday. How many different kinds of hoofed animals can you count?Dakota!
Today I'm in Williston, North Dakota and battling 15 mph headwinds. I'm a little over 1/3 of the way to my destination. Oh. By the way, my terminus is now going to be Coney Island. Not Maine. I'll update the map shortly, but I just decided in the past couple of days, that I'd like to end my trip in NYC.
This is a photo of the grain terminal in Bainville, MT...where I spent my last night in that state. I spent the evening listening to coyotes howling and the Burlington Northern do it's Neil Pert Drum Solo all night long.
Photos are difficult to caption with Blogger. Y'all might have noticed. From now on, one photo per post. Sorry if that's an inelegant fix, but it's all I have time for.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
More Pictures
Photo time.The first one is about 15 days old. Taken by Chris the day I started the trip. My bike, with gear, weighed approximately 72 pounds. Me, I weighed 213 (Tubby!) I mailed home 14 pounds worth of stuff somewhere in Washington State (Omak, I think). I've already lost about 14 pounds of me weight. Woo!
Awesome Gas Pump art.
On the western slope of Maria's Pass. The locals call it crystal falls. I filled my water bottles here. Tasty tasty water.
Nothing much to say about this photo, except I felt elated to cross the divide that morning.
Just lovley, lovely, I say.
Hungry Like the Wolf
Yesterday, I had an encounter with this fellow. He came out of the tall grass as I passed and paced me for nearly a mile. I slowed down to take a picture of him and he started to cross the road toward me. Not keen on having a close encounter of the rabid or wild kind. I didn't let him get very close. I'm not positive, but I think he or she is a wolf. Nice. Today, I'm pretty sure I spotted some sort of big cat, but it was gone into the underbrush before I could snap a picture.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Dispatch #8, Doc's #1 Formula and Did You Know Montana Has Seagulls?
Today is a rest day in Havre, MT. I've been 14 days on the road and yesterday somehow managed to ride over 100 miles so I decided it was time. It's difficult to take a rest day when you have momentum, but the weather report said I'd have 20 mph head winds and Havre is turning into a nice town to spend a non-bike day. I've gotten laundry taken care of, bought some spare tubes, and have restocked other sundries. Here's the route so far.Here are the stats for the last few days.
Thursday, June 21 (the summer solstice)
Kalispell to the Snow Slip Inn (7 miles west of Maria's Pass and deserving it's own post)
in the saddle: 5:16:26
total distance: 71.20
average speed: 13.5
max: 37
odo: 893.4
Kalispell to Snow Slip Inn was a nice (mostly rail grade) up towards Maria's Pass, my last stop in the Rockies. The climb was also accompanied by a number of stops next to the river that ran along side me. I found a boat slip and took a very very chilly plunge. Hey, you can't visit glacial water and not swim in it, can you? Actually it was less a swim and more of a HOLY OPRAH CABOOSE IT'S COLD jump in and scramble out. Also, there were signs warning about bears. I didn't feel like lingering. Photos tell a better story, but alas, the computer here at the El Toro Motel, that's right the EL Toro Motel, is slower than a grizzly drunk on huckleberries and older than Diane Keaton so...
With only about 7 miles left in the climb to the pass and the Continental Divide, I stopped at what was supposed to only be a water refuelling stop, but ended up being my visit to the Twin Peaks of Montana. I camped in Jim, the Elk Hunter's yard, met a cowboy who was looking for his lost horse on the mountain, and learned from Joey, the nascent trucker, that everything I thought I knew about road atlases was wrong. Apparently, there is a secret "trucker atlas" that you can only get from a trucker. Aaaand I had a heart to heart with fellow cyclist Matt from San Diego about how to curse properly. The story of this stop is to be continued...
Friday, June 22
Snow Slip Inn to Shelby
in the saddle: 6:22:55
td: 92.62
as: 14.5
max: 42.4!!!
odo: 986.1
Left Snow Slip Inn (relieved to be intact) at 7 am. About an hour later I was standing on the Continental Divide and feeling pretty amazed about this planet an my place on it. Took some photos and enjoyed a great descent into East Glacier, where I stopped to have breakfast (biscuits and sausage gravy--Montana knows how to do a good biscuit and gravy dish. As I left East Glacier, the landscape took a pretty dramatic turn. Suddenly it became flat and there were no more trees. I had a descent tailwind so I trucked on over to Shelby, Montana where I found seagulls. In Washington State there were seagulls--on the ocean--but not in the interior, no seagulls in the part of Idaho where I was, but in the middle of Montana, yes there are seagulls. No local that I've asked has been able to give me a good explanation for this phenomenon. Camped in the city park and had a nice conversation with a fellow from Georgia, who was on his way with his wife to Alaska by way of RV. Amazed by the sunset in Shelby. I've seen nothing but beautiful sunsets in Montana.
Saturday, June 23
Shelby to Havre
in the saddle: 6:35:14
td: 105.47
as: 16
max: 30.6
odo: 1091.6 (Over the 1000 mile mark for the trip!!!)
I got into the saddle after a great breakfast intending only to go about 40 miles to the next town and camp. I wanted to make it a short day. 2 hours later, I was in said town and having the best cycling morning of the trip. I had an obscene tailwind coming out of Shelby and trucked east at an average of 20 mph for the first two hours. I was reminded of that scene in the great cycling movie "Breaking Away" where Dave is biking down the highway behind an 18-wheeler. I felt like Godzilla on two wheels and decided to make for Havre, about 60 more miles away. After about 12:30, the winds died down and even started to blow against me a little.
Nevertheless, I reached Blackie's Tavern (about 8 miles west of Havre) around 4:30 in the afternoon and decided to treat myself to a can of Rainer beer before proceeding. See, the trick to this trip or parts of this trip is to give yourself little rewards along the way. This is a philosophy I learned from my Seattle buddy, Douug.
Blackie's Tavern, at 4:30 on a Saturday afternoon was a pretty salty place. Lot's of old timers who were basically a sea of shaking heads when they learn I'm one of those crazy bikers. The bartender gives me a little grief about drinking and biking, but as I'm only having one beer she lets it slide. We all get to talking and it seems their biggest concern for me has to do with the mosquitoes I'm about to run into. Now, mosquitoes are pretty partial to me. I took a camping trip down to Hunter Island, NC one summer with my then girlfriend. It was just after Hurricane Hugo and the air couldn't be calmer and the mosquitoes more hungry. We stayed at camp for maybe 4 hours before I just couldn't take it anymore. At the hotel later that night, we counted over 70 individual bites. Soooo I was interested in what they had to say. These folk seemed to know what they were talking about. Blackies is a kind of fisherman's hangout. "So what are you using to keep away the mosquitoes?" asks the bartender.
"Oh, just some stuff I got from the drugstore called Cutter. It's got DEET in it."
"Hell boy, you should just get back on that bike and head back west if that's all you've got," said one of the bar patrons.
"Yeah," said another, "Why just last week, them bugs dragged a little girl out of a parked car. Took a water hose and three grown men to get her to safety."
"Should we tell him about Doc's #1?"
"Don't see why not, he don't look like he's gonna hop on the freight train to by-pass bug country. Hell, he'll be eaten alive."
"Thanks. Really, but I think I'll be okay."
"Nonsense," said the bartender. She pulled a glass container with brown liquid out from behind the bar pulled out the cork and held it up to me. "Smell it," she said.
I took a cautious smell. "Vanilla?" I asked?
"You'd better believe it. Not the imitation extract stuff, but pure vanilla. You just stop into a store when you get into town and get yourself a bottle of vanilla and a little spray bottle and you'll be set."
"And if anyone asks why you smell like a cookie, you tell them it's because you are so sweet," says a lady at the end of the bar.
I thank them for their advice and am just about ready to head for the door. The bartender must have thought she saw something in my eyes because she produced a medication bottle, filled it full of Doc's #1, and gave it to me. "Oh, that bottle held my heart medication. I need to refill it anyway. Go ahead and take it." I did. With hearty wishes the patrons sent me on my way. I need to send them a postcard and let them know how I fare.
So folks, I'll be letting you know how Doc's #1 works out. I didn't think to ask who Doc was or how many different formulas Doc has. I'm sure that's another story altogether.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Dispatch #7: Ease On Down The Road
I'm now in Kalispell, Montana. Decided to go "off route" yesterday and have shaved about 70 miles off the total trip with this deviation. Here are some photos for you I've been meaning to put up.Road report in a couple of days.
Beaker here is riding shotgun with me. I'm sasd to report that he's already lost both of his arms.
Here's Chris and Carol from Dispatch #5.
Cindy and Mark
4-H Horses in Republic
Trestle
I'm looking a little dubious about Idaho
Amazing Idaho Sky
Typical campsite in disarray
Eagle!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Dispatch #7: Next Stop, The Rockies
Today I am in Sandpoint, Idaho.
I crossed the Idaho state line yesterday around 2:30 in the afternoon. I had planned on taking the day off, but I started to get a little anxious to get moving after about 2 hours of being awake in camp and watching rain clouds gather. It's been about 200 miles since my last report. Here's what's happened over the last few days.
Friday, June 15
Tonasket to Ferry County Fairgrounds (3 mi. east of Republic)
in the saddle: 4:24:31
td: 46.08
as: 10.4
max: 32.5
odo: 433
I forgot to include the stats in my last post. I also forgot to mention that I caught up with Mark and Cindy again. Or they caught up with me. Cindy bought us breakfast in Colville. Nice folk. They'll get their own post once I'm able to download some pix.
Saturday, June 16
Republic to Ione, WA
in the saddle: 7:45:10
td: 94.88 miles
as: 12.2
max 35
odo: 528
Crossing Sherman pass wasn't so bad--as bad as other of these climbs. I think my body is getting used to it all. I was in the saddle a very long time. Nearly 8 hours. I had and still have pretty sore sit bones.
After Sherman Pass there was another climb. On the map, it didn't look like much, but turned out to be one of my least favorite rides so far on this trip. That said, the last 15 miles of the ride were fantastic. I'm talking 7% downhill grade with hairpin turns and wild turkeys cruising the shoulders. I tried to stop and take a picture of one b/c I was so excited and nearly fell over the handlebars of the bike. I can read the epitaph now--Here lies Ethan, He died trying to take a photo of a turkey.
Sunday, June 16
Ione, WA to Sandpoint, ID
in the saddle: 6:48:33
td: 92:12
as: 13.5
max: 33.3
odo: 620
Today was a good, if long, day riding. The terrain was mostly flat and the shoulders of the road were okay. I stayed in a divey hotel the night before because I had stayed the past 3 nights in a tent and jeez, needed a change. Got up. Took a shower and hit the road. The next 51 miles were spent on the east side of the Pend Oreille River on this supernatually lonely road called N. LeClerc Rd. Very little traffic on this father's day. It was almost as if I had my very own bike path.
Once I hit the Idaho border, I decided to push through and bike another 30 miles to Sandpoint. I'm glad I did. It's nice to wake up a little farther down the line than you thought you would be.
Today is going to be a short day. It's 10:30 in the morning here and I'll probably bike between 30 and 40 miles today. Looking forward to Montana and the Rockies.
There has been absolutely NO roadkill for the past 250 miles. It's strange.
I crossed the Idaho state line yesterday around 2:30 in the afternoon. I had planned on taking the day off, but I started to get a little anxious to get moving after about 2 hours of being awake in camp and watching rain clouds gather. It's been about 200 miles since my last report. Here's what's happened over the last few days.
Friday, June 15
Tonasket to Ferry County Fairgrounds (3 mi. east of Republic)
in the saddle: 4:24:31
td: 46.08
as: 10.4
max: 32.5
odo: 433
I forgot to include the stats in my last post. I also forgot to mention that I caught up with Mark and Cindy again. Or they caught up with me. Cindy bought us breakfast in Colville. Nice folk. They'll get their own post once I'm able to download some pix.
Saturday, June 16
Republic to Ione, WA
in the saddle: 7:45:10
td: 94.88 miles
as: 12.2
max 35
odo: 528
Crossing Sherman pass wasn't so bad--as bad as other of these climbs. I think my body is getting used to it all. I was in the saddle a very long time. Nearly 8 hours. I had and still have pretty sore sit bones.
After Sherman Pass there was another climb. On the map, it didn't look like much, but turned out to be one of my least favorite rides so far on this trip. That said, the last 15 miles of the ride were fantastic. I'm talking 7% downhill grade with hairpin turns and wild turkeys cruising the shoulders. I tried to stop and take a picture of one b/c I was so excited and nearly fell over the handlebars of the bike. I can read the epitaph now--Here lies Ethan, He died trying to take a photo of a turkey.
Sunday, June 16
Ione, WA to Sandpoint, ID
in the saddle: 6:48:33
td: 92:12
as: 13.5
max: 33.3
odo: 620
Today was a good, if long, day riding. The terrain was mostly flat and the shoulders of the road were okay. I stayed in a divey hotel the night before because I had stayed the past 3 nights in a tent and jeez, needed a change. Got up. Took a shower and hit the road. The next 51 miles were spent on the east side of the Pend Oreille River on this supernatually lonely road called N. LeClerc Rd. Very little traffic on this father's day. It was almost as if I had my very own bike path.
Once I hit the Idaho border, I decided to push through and bike another 30 miles to Sandpoint. I'm glad I did. It's nice to wake up a little farther down the line than you thought you would be.
Today is going to be a short day. It's 10:30 in the morning here and I'll probably bike between 30 and 40 miles today. Looking forward to Montana and the Rockies.
There has been absolutely NO roadkill for the past 250 miles. It's strange.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Dispatch #6, I'm fonda Wauconda
Friday, June 15
Here is where I am today. Republic, WA. It used to be a mining town. Biked over Wauconda pass, 4,355 feet. I am totally Fonda Wauconda. The only thing that is in Wauconda proper is a general store/cafe/post office. I stopped there during my climb to the pass and as I was purchasing a candy bar, I overheard one of them say, "Well, I just took the biscuits out of the oven." The word biscuit causes a Pavlovian response in me. Biscuits fresh out of the oven make me practically rabid. So I sat down, even though I'd already had breakfast in Tonasket. Full report on the rides soon. Right now, I need to get back on the road to beat the rain up Sherman pass.
Here is where I am today. Republic, WA. It used to be a mining town. Biked over Wauconda pass, 4,355 feet. I am totally Fonda Wauconda. The only thing that is in Wauconda proper is a general store/cafe/post office. I stopped there during my climb to the pass and as I was purchasing a candy bar, I overheard one of them say, "Well, I just took the biscuits out of the oven." The word biscuit causes a Pavlovian response in me. Biscuits fresh out of the oven make me practically rabid. So I sat down, even though I'd already had breakfast in Tonasket. Full report on the rides soon. Right now, I need to get back on the road to beat the rain up Sherman pass.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Dispatch #4 Addendum, Photos!
Here are just a few pictures from the first 3 days of cycling. This first one was taken in the rain at Deception pass. I was just happy to have made it across the bridge and not blown over into the Puget Sound below.
Dipping the rear tire into the Pacific. Symbolism people, les symbolisme.
This is a strange castle- house in Anacortes.
This structure is located in the town of Concrete.
Monkey Mom Cafe?Cafe Mom Monkey?
Mom's Monkey Cafe?
Diablo lake from way up high.
Me at Rainy Pass, elevation 4,855 feet
Me at Washington Pass, elevation 5,455 feet. Note Piggly Wiggly shirt. These colors don't run. Also note, Wiggly belly. That won't be there much longer.
This is a picture of a person who cannot be more happy to see a hunk of rock recede into the distance behind him.
Dispatch #5, Rise of the Sub-Mariner
No. Not that Sub-Mariner. I'll get to the real Sub-mariner in a minute. Business stuff first. Also: I'm having trouble uploading images so there'll have to be another addundum I guess. Sorry.June 13th was a rest day. After crossing the Northern Cascades I deserved it. Nevertheless, I did do some biking.
Mazama to Twisp (rhymes with crisp)
time in the saddle: 2:07:07
td: 30.53 miles
as: 14.4 mph
max: 35.4
odo: 319
I woke up at 8:30 and put a small load of laundry in the wash (free). I took a short soak in the tub and then loaded the bike. I headed down Goat Run Road. Guess who I meet on my way out of town? Cody and Tom are headed down from off of Washington Pass. Turns out they decided to camp on the side of the road before getting to Washington Pass. As I stood there, with my achey legs, it didn't sound like a good idea. I left them and wandered on down to Winthrop about 13 miles away. Winthrop is a real, honest to gosh cow town and I was told there was an internet cafe there. Alas and woe-is-me, no internet cafe was still in operation. I found a library and updated the journal.
I left and biked another 10 miles down the road to Twisp. About 5 miles into the ride, I had an awful feeling that I had read the map wrong and was headed in the wrong direction. I stopped to talk to a lovely pig-tailed lady working in her garden. She let me know that I was actually on the right road and that I should stop at the Twisp Pub where her boyfriend tends bar and where there would be live jazz later that night.
I hit Twisp around 5:30, stopped at the Visitor Center, which has just opened it's new library and this new thing called the Internet. Vicky, the Visitor Center Lady extraordinaire, helped me with lots of useful information, including where to stay the night. I stayed at the Riverbend RV park just up the road from downtown Twisp. At the Riverbend on this particular night were some geese, some mosquitoes and Chris and Carol. C-squared, as I'll refer to them on out are a fantastic couple. They had RV'd up to Twisp from Mission, Texas and were on their way to Vancouver and then loop back down (eventually) to Texas. Chris actually approached me as I was setting up my tent and when he learned what I was up to invited me over to have a seat in a comfortable chair and have a Mike's Hard Lemonade.
After I get settled in, I head over and Chris is finishing up a cigar and having a martini. He tells me that he's a retired submarine sailor (Sub-Mariner, y'all!) and that he was self employed when he mustered out of the service in 1977. Retiring last year, he and his wife Carol, who has a heck of a time convincing me that 1) she's 60+ years old and 2) that she's a great-grandmother.
C-squared ask me to join them for dinner. We have vegetarian lasagne and excellent conversation. Turns out that they used to ride Harleys to Sturgis and other rallys (they think they may have been to the one in Maggie Valley, NC but aren't sure) but have since switched to 4-wheelin' and RV'n after an accident. Great folk and I don't have the time to actually go into great detail.
After dinner, I biked back to downtown Twisp for a couple of pints and some food for the next day's ride--to Tonasket...over Loup Loup pass. I'll get to that tale next time. Now I've got to get going. Thanks for the positive feedback on Kromwell. He'll be back as soon as I can convince him to tolerate my presence for more than 5 minutes.
Don McClean Was a Truck Drivin' Man
...and you know what, an astute reader has alerted me that I got both the title AND artist's name incorrect. The song is "American Pie" by Don McClean, not "The Day the Music Died" by Jim Croce. All I can say about this horrible horrible error is that I only have time to write, not edit OR fact check. I totally get an F in pop culture today. I feel a little sick, to tell you the truth.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Dispatch #4: Stawberry Lemonade Gatorade + Ritz + Jiff = Toxic Coctail
Hi there. Today is technically Day 3, but really it's Day 4 as I'm going to count the shakedown ride from Day 1: Clinton to Anacortes.
Total Bike Time (tbt): 3-7:30 pm, 3:52:39 to be exact
Total Distance (td): 52.37 miles
Average Speed (as): 13.5 mph, 31.2 (max)
Odometer reads: 130 miles (because I did not reset it at the start)
I rode up to Everett with the Putnams and briefly visited with Maureen's family. Chris drove me out to the ferry dock and I was on the 2:30 ferry. I suppose I should have expected a tough climb up from the ferry dock on the other side, but it really took me by surprise. Ooof! Once everything leveled out I began the chug up towards Anacortes. Whidbey is full of rollers and is relatively flat, but I had a pretty serious 10-15 mph headwind and it was raining. Ah well, this is what I signed up for.
The rain and wind persisted pretty much the whole way, but spotting a pair of bald eagles made up for it all. Almost. Made it to the northern end of Whidbey Island, Deception Pass, and I stopped to check it out. Pretty intimidating as far as natural occurrences go. Think Scylla and Charybdis and you'll start to see it. I can't post photos from this computer so you'll have to try and depend on my vast powers of description. The bridge spanning this chasm is quite beautiful, but it shakes when traffic passes over it and you are just a lowly cyclist trying to get to the other side. Also: Washington State doesn't seem to be as worried about jumpers as NYC. The railing on the walk path is barely waist high. Oh...and at the pass, the winds ramped up to gusts of 25 mph. I made it safely across, but the rain was picking up and it was starting to get dark. The rode traversing Whidbey is pretty busy and I was starting to get a little uneasy. Yes, sometimes I get a little nervous around traffic.
Instead of pitching a tent in Anacortes like I'd planned, I stayed at a nearby hotel. This allowed me to dry everything out and repack. I felt the front panniers were too heavy. Watched part of Young Frankenstein "Super Duper" and fell asleep by 10.
Day 2: Anacortes to Marblemount
tbt: 8 am to 5:30 pm, 5:34:20 in the saddle
td 78.89 miles
as 14.1
max 32
Odo 209
I rode to Washington Mountain State park in the morning to dip my rear tire in the Pacific and took a nice photo of myself doing the deed. It was one of those moments where I felt "wow" I'm really doing this all by myself, There will be lots and lots of digital self portraits as I'll have to rely on the kindness of the random stranger to help me take photos. It really won't matter anyway unless I can actually download my photos onto a computer. Oh...I only have 30 minutes on this one so I might not get to everything.
One thing I forgot to mention about Whidbey is that it appears to be horse central. Lots and lots and lots of horse farms all over the place. I guess Washington is kind of a horsey state. Wasn't that scene with the horse on the ferry in The Ring set in Washington? The ride on Day 2 was mostly excellent, even though I got rained on again. Traffic wasn't bad and I stayed on Route 20 the entire way (deviating from the Adventure Cycling maps). Route 20 had a great shoulder and stayed flat. I met my first cycling couple Mark and Cindy at a gas station outside of Burlington. They had just completed the Trans-America from the east coast to the west, and were now circling back to the east coast. And y'all think I'm crazy. Mark has his own blog (he's got these professional cards that he hands out) trailjournals.com/stumpknocker. He doesn't appear to have updated it lately, but hey, it's tough out here on the road.
My original plan for Day 2 was to make it to Marblemount and camp, but by the time I had made it to The Eatery in Rockport, I was wet, cold, and my right knee was kinda whimpering. Rockport, nay, all of the North Cascades I learned from the waitress, was originally settled by miners from North Carolina. Fancy that. This explained the Tarheel Burger, and the Carolina BBQ on the menu. Neither of which I actually had.
During my lunch I met Daniel, duly authorized representative of the Rockport Visitor Center. He wondered about my ride, where I was going, where I had been, etc. And wanted to know if I was interested in lodging info (hey Rockport Boosters, Daniel is doing his job). He told me about a $5 a night primitive campground down the road for me to check out. I did. The Rainy River campground is located next to the Cascade River and doesn't have any facilities, save outhouses. I wasn't sure and was just about to head up the road to the facility having Alpine Campground when I met Cody and Tom, my second cycling couple. These two fellas were quite nice. Turns out, they did the Continental Divide Trail last year and are seasoned "Adventurists." I decided that it would be nice to have some company (I know, I know, I've only been on the road a day or so), so I picked a nice site next to the river and started to set up. Cody and Tom set up next to me and when we were all set up we sat down and chatted for a while. Cody is from New Zealand and is a diving instructor. Tom is from Minneapolis and is in finance. Both guys were excellent company.
In bed by 10 again. Listened to shortwave radio for a few minutes.
Day 3: Marblemount to Mazama (rhymes with Alabama)
tbt: 7:30 am until 5:30/6 pm, 7:33:53
td: 77.62
as: 10.2 (felt like 3 mph)
max: 35.8
odo: 286.8
Whew! Wish someone had said that crossing the cascades would be tough. Why didn't someone try to talk me out of this crazy trip. Just kidding. But folks, the northern Cascades nearly did me in. I got up at 5:30 and started breaking down my campsite.
I boiled some water from the river for tea in the morning and boiled a little extra for bathing purposes...a genius idea I think, since the river (according to Daniel and to my feet) was barely above freezing. It's nice to have a sponge bath with warm vs. freezing water, let me tell you. No cel service at the campground.
I left camp before Cody and Tom, but they were up and so I got a photo for the journal. Again, I can't download any at the moment. I rolled down to the local convenience store and bought 1 apple, 1 jar peanut butter, and 1 roll of Ritz Crackers. I did not buy any water. I really really really should have. All I had were two bottles filled nearly to the top with diluted Gatorade.
Before taking off for the ride, I checked my phone and saw that I had service. 1 bar, but still service...and that Clete had called me. I gave him a ring and we chatted briefly. I told him about my tentative plan to change my route at the end the ride at Coney Island. I'm still debating this idea. He wished me luck and off I trucked.
The ride out of Marblemount to Newhalem was absolutely splendid. Sunny with little or no wind and the beautiful and craggy Cascades rising up in front of me like a giant in slo-mo. I cruised up the gentle slope unaware of what was ahead but in awe of the Skagit River Valley and the trees and the mountains and and and and. Since I was taking my time this morning, I half expected Tom and Cody to catch up with me and perhaps pass me. I didn't see them for the rest of the day.
In Newhalem, I passed the one general store for the next 50 miles and did not stop. Not a great idea in retrospect. I had been on the road for about 45 minutes and had gone nearly 15 miles. It took me 2 hours to bike the next 15 miles. I was averaging 18 miles per hour, for the next 5 hours, I averaged about 6 mph on the climbs. And it was mostly a day of climbing. All told, I was in the saddle for 7 hours and 33 minutes.
At Diablo Dam, I stopped on a very scary metal bridge over a pretty intense gorge. A black pick up pulls up next to me. The little old lady driving leans across the chest of the little old man next to here and yells "Yer making good time." They were beaming. This moment marked one of a relatively rare occurrence of people showing support. I got a few thumbs up, and a honk or two as well. Not a whole lot though. The old man wondered where I was headed and they both broke out laughing when I informed them of my final destination. This is the reaction I get most of the time when I tell folk where I'm headed. That plus the disbelieving shake-of-the-head. A huge yellow dump truck was rumbling up the grade behind them so our conversation was cut short. I have to admit, I nearly asked these good folk for a lift to the top. Oh, my aching legs.
During the long stretches of climbing I had 2 things (other than taking frequent breaks) to help keep me focused. One was this memory of my father and the other was playing musical ninja with myself.
I grew up on a farm in North Carolina. We raised cattle, grew hay and tobacco. So naturally, I spent a lot of time on a tractor--not as much as Perk (my pop) or my older brothers, but a significant amount of time nonetheless. One of the trickiest things to do on a tractor is to plow a straight line. "Pick a fencepost at the other end of the field and aim for that. Always keep that fencepost in at least one eye. Drive toward your fencepost and there you go, a straight line." Anyway, I found myself picking landmarks on the road in the distance as my fence posts--I found it helped take my mind of the distance yet to cross. *Now that I'm reflecting on this story, I'm thinking that it might be apocryphal--that the plowing a straight line story belongs to someone else's work of fiction...Faulkner maybe? If anyone has an idea, let me know. It may have happened with my dad or I might just be getting senile and mistaking fiction for reality. Not a bad place to be actually. It is true that we did have a farm and my dad did try to teach me to plow straight. Unfortunately, it didn't take.
Musical Ninja is a game I play with my friends, but (if I'm a good ninja) they don't realize what is happening. The musical ninja picks both song and victim well. The song needs to be annoyingly catchy. "The Day The Music Died" by Jim Croce is a good one. The victim needs to be focused on something other than the ninja or be a particularly suggestible type.
Hum or sing parts of the song near your victim in a repetitive fashion, but not so repetitive as to arouse suspicion. Minutes later (if you have been successful) your victim will start humming or singing the same song. Victory is totally achieve if said victim fails to realize that the song was planted--that the ninja has snuck into the subconscious and planted said song. One of my favorite victims (she knows who she is and if she gets around to reading this) will probably be singing "bye, bye, miss American pie..." by the time she finishes reading this. Now, I know that I'm not a very good ninja after all, because ninjas do not reveal their secrets to anyone. Oh well. The point of this story is to say that I like to ninja myself sometimes since I don't listen to music through earphones while riding. Reggae is great when biking. It provides a great cadence beat. I was humming "Buffalo Soldier" as I crossed Washington Pass.
As to the title of this post. When I stopped for lunch, I started to make peanut butter and Ritz sandwiches. After the third one, I took a nice big swig of the lemon-strawberry gatorade and immediately wished I had not. It's a lethal combination. Don't try it.
I took a brief cooling shower in a waterfall by the side of the road and filled up my water bottles with pure Cascade mountain water. I mean, how much more pure can you get than glacial? At this altitude I wasn't worried about farm waste or animal waste. 24 hours later, I'm still not sick.
During my phone conversation with Clete earlier in the morning, I had expressed concern about the climb. "Well, you know what they say about climbing hills don't you? You can look forward to going down it once you get to the top. The decent off of Washington pass was insane 7 straight miles of a 7% grade. It was kind of scary and by the time I made it to the town of Mazama around 5:30 my hands were aching from the breaking. I could have gone a lot faster than I did during the decent, but the winds were whipping and with the panniers and all I wasn't too sure about how well I could control the bike if a big gust came along. I stayed at the Mazama Mountain View in (a luxury, but my knees were both barking and my butt was aching and I needed a hot soak).
Today I'm in Winthrop, WA, using the computer at the public library to update de online journal. Once I'm finished I'm heading only 15 more miles to the town of Twisp before the next big climb. Camping tonight.
And now I'd like to turn things over to Kromwell, the Caustic Crow for the Road Kill Report. Take it away, Kromwell...
Thanks, "Ninja boy." You know ninjas are over, right? Who am I kidding? I'm talking to a guy in spandex shorts and a bandanna, who's updating his bleurg in a public library. So...the report. In the, like, 3 days we've been travelling, pickings have been awful slim. It's almost as if the"Plow Master" here is too busy waxing nostalgic than he is in finding me some good road kill, but here goes anyway.
Day 1--Clinton to Anacortes, NOTHING.
Day 2--Anacortes to Marblemount, At mile 57 on Route 20, we came across a dessicated robin's carcass. I give it one-and-a-half crow feet. At mile 68, another robing carcass, a little fresher, but it gets only 1 crow foot because of repetition.
Day 3--Marblemount to Mazama, FINALLY! At Mile 148, a green and yellow snake! Super fresh. Something you'd want to take home to mom. I would give it 5 out of 5 crow feet, but it was so fresh it was still moving, thus would require a little more work from me, so 4.5 crow feet for the snake. Mile 152, salamander jerky. .5 crow feet.
At the end of Day 3 as we cruised down to Mazama, we passed a sign warning that "year to date" there have been 141 deer/car collisions. Neither deer or car carcass (haw! car carcass!) littered the shoulders so I'm assuming there are some pretty voracious crows in these here parts.
But what about the slugs I ran over during that stretch of rain on Day 2?
Slugs?! We don'ts likes it, Precious. No We's don'ts.
Uh...O.K. Um thanks Kromell for that insightful report.
Bite me!
Total Bike Time (tbt): 3-7:30 pm, 3:52:39 to be exact
Total Distance (td): 52.37 miles
Average Speed (as): 13.5 mph, 31.2 (max)
Odometer reads: 130 miles (because I did not reset it at the start)
I rode up to Everett with the Putnams and briefly visited with Maureen's family. Chris drove me out to the ferry dock and I was on the 2:30 ferry. I suppose I should have expected a tough climb up from the ferry dock on the other side, but it really took me by surprise. Ooof! Once everything leveled out I began the chug up towards Anacortes. Whidbey is full of rollers and is relatively flat, but I had a pretty serious 10-15 mph headwind and it was raining. Ah well, this is what I signed up for.
The rain and wind persisted pretty much the whole way, but spotting a pair of bald eagles made up for it all. Almost. Made it to the northern end of Whidbey Island, Deception Pass, and I stopped to check it out. Pretty intimidating as far as natural occurrences go. Think Scylla and Charybdis and you'll start to see it. I can't post photos from this computer so you'll have to try and depend on my vast powers of description. The bridge spanning this chasm is quite beautiful, but it shakes when traffic passes over it and you are just a lowly cyclist trying to get to the other side. Also: Washington State doesn't seem to be as worried about jumpers as NYC. The railing on the walk path is barely waist high. Oh...and at the pass, the winds ramped up to gusts of 25 mph. I made it safely across, but the rain was picking up and it was starting to get dark. The rode traversing Whidbey is pretty busy and I was starting to get a little uneasy. Yes, sometimes I get a little nervous around traffic.
Instead of pitching a tent in Anacortes like I'd planned, I stayed at a nearby hotel. This allowed me to dry everything out and repack. I felt the front panniers were too heavy. Watched part of Young Frankenstein "Super Duper" and fell asleep by 10.
Day 2: Anacortes to Marblemount
tbt: 8 am to 5:30 pm, 5:34:20 in the saddle
td 78.89 miles
as 14.1
max 32
Odo 209
I rode to Washington Mountain State park in the morning to dip my rear tire in the Pacific and took a nice photo of myself doing the deed. It was one of those moments where I felt "wow" I'm really doing this all by myself, There will be lots and lots of digital self portraits as I'll have to rely on the kindness of the random stranger to help me take photos. It really won't matter anyway unless I can actually download my photos onto a computer. Oh...I only have 30 minutes on this one so I might not get to everything.
One thing I forgot to mention about Whidbey is that it appears to be horse central. Lots and lots and lots of horse farms all over the place. I guess Washington is kind of a horsey state. Wasn't that scene with the horse on the ferry in The Ring set in Washington? The ride on Day 2 was mostly excellent, even though I got rained on again. Traffic wasn't bad and I stayed on Route 20 the entire way (deviating from the Adventure Cycling maps). Route 20 had a great shoulder and stayed flat. I met my first cycling couple Mark and Cindy at a gas station outside of Burlington. They had just completed the Trans-America from the east coast to the west, and were now circling back to the east coast. And y'all think I'm crazy. Mark has his own blog (he's got these professional cards that he hands out) trailjournals.com/stumpknocker. He doesn't appear to have updated it lately, but hey, it's tough out here on the road.
My original plan for Day 2 was to make it to Marblemount and camp, but by the time I had made it to The Eatery in Rockport, I was wet, cold, and my right knee was kinda whimpering. Rockport, nay, all of the North Cascades I learned from the waitress, was originally settled by miners from North Carolina. Fancy that. This explained the Tarheel Burger, and the Carolina BBQ on the menu. Neither of which I actually had.
During my lunch I met Daniel, duly authorized representative of the Rockport Visitor Center. He wondered about my ride, where I was going, where I had been, etc. And wanted to know if I was interested in lodging info (hey Rockport Boosters, Daniel is doing his job). He told me about a $5 a night primitive campground down the road for me to check out. I did. The Rainy River campground is located next to the Cascade River and doesn't have any facilities, save outhouses. I wasn't sure and was just about to head up the road to the facility having Alpine Campground when I met Cody and Tom, my second cycling couple. These two fellas were quite nice. Turns out, they did the Continental Divide Trail last year and are seasoned "Adventurists." I decided that it would be nice to have some company (I know, I know, I've only been on the road a day or so), so I picked a nice site next to the river and started to set up. Cody and Tom set up next to me and when we were all set up we sat down and chatted for a while. Cody is from New Zealand and is a diving instructor. Tom is from Minneapolis and is in finance. Both guys were excellent company.
In bed by 10 again. Listened to shortwave radio for a few minutes.
Day 3: Marblemount to Mazama (rhymes with Alabama)
tbt: 7:30 am until 5:30/6 pm, 7:33:53
td: 77.62
as: 10.2 (felt like 3 mph)
max: 35.8
odo: 286.8
Whew! Wish someone had said that crossing the cascades would be tough. Why didn't someone try to talk me out of this crazy trip. Just kidding. But folks, the northern Cascades nearly did me in. I got up at 5:30 and started breaking down my campsite.
I boiled some water from the river for tea in the morning and boiled a little extra for bathing purposes...a genius idea I think, since the river (according to Daniel and to my feet) was barely above freezing. It's nice to have a sponge bath with warm vs. freezing water, let me tell you. No cel service at the campground.
I left camp before Cody and Tom, but they were up and so I got a photo for the journal. Again, I can't download any at the moment. I rolled down to the local convenience store and bought 1 apple, 1 jar peanut butter, and 1 roll of Ritz Crackers. I did not buy any water. I really really really should have. All I had were two bottles filled nearly to the top with diluted Gatorade.
Before taking off for the ride, I checked my phone and saw that I had service. 1 bar, but still service...and that Clete had called me. I gave him a ring and we chatted briefly. I told him about my tentative plan to change my route at the end the ride at Coney Island. I'm still debating this idea. He wished me luck and off I trucked.
The ride out of Marblemount to Newhalem was absolutely splendid. Sunny with little or no wind and the beautiful and craggy Cascades rising up in front of me like a giant in slo-mo. I cruised up the gentle slope unaware of what was ahead but in awe of the Skagit River Valley and the trees and the mountains and and and and. Since I was taking my time this morning, I half expected Tom and Cody to catch up with me and perhaps pass me. I didn't see them for the rest of the day.
In Newhalem, I passed the one general store for the next 50 miles and did not stop. Not a great idea in retrospect. I had been on the road for about 45 minutes and had gone nearly 15 miles. It took me 2 hours to bike the next 15 miles. I was averaging 18 miles per hour, for the next 5 hours, I averaged about 6 mph on the climbs. And it was mostly a day of climbing. All told, I was in the saddle for 7 hours and 33 minutes.
At Diablo Dam, I stopped on a very scary metal bridge over a pretty intense gorge. A black pick up pulls up next to me. The little old lady driving leans across the chest of the little old man next to here and yells "Yer making good time." They were beaming. This moment marked one of a relatively rare occurrence of people showing support. I got a few thumbs up, and a honk or two as well. Not a whole lot though. The old man wondered where I was headed and they both broke out laughing when I informed them of my final destination. This is the reaction I get most of the time when I tell folk where I'm headed. That plus the disbelieving shake-of-the-head. A huge yellow dump truck was rumbling up the grade behind them so our conversation was cut short. I have to admit, I nearly asked these good folk for a lift to the top. Oh, my aching legs.
During the long stretches of climbing I had 2 things (other than taking frequent breaks) to help keep me focused. One was this memory of my father and the other was playing musical ninja with myself.
I grew up on a farm in North Carolina. We raised cattle, grew hay and tobacco. So naturally, I spent a lot of time on a tractor--not as much as Perk (my pop) or my older brothers, but a significant amount of time nonetheless. One of the trickiest things to do on a tractor is to plow a straight line. "Pick a fencepost at the other end of the field and aim for that. Always keep that fencepost in at least one eye. Drive toward your fencepost and there you go, a straight line." Anyway, I found myself picking landmarks on the road in the distance as my fence posts--I found it helped take my mind of the distance yet to cross. *Now that I'm reflecting on this story, I'm thinking that it might be apocryphal--that the plowing a straight line story belongs to someone else's work of fiction...Faulkner maybe? If anyone has an idea, let me know. It may have happened with my dad or I might just be getting senile and mistaking fiction for reality. Not a bad place to be actually. It is true that we did have a farm and my dad did try to teach me to plow straight. Unfortunately, it didn't take.
Musical Ninja is a game I play with my friends, but (if I'm a good ninja) they don't realize what is happening. The musical ninja picks both song and victim well. The song needs to be annoyingly catchy. "The Day The Music Died" by Jim Croce is a good one. The victim needs to be focused on something other than the ninja or be a particularly suggestible type.
Hum or sing parts of the song near your victim in a repetitive fashion, but not so repetitive as to arouse suspicion. Minutes later (if you have been successful) your victim will start humming or singing the same song. Victory is totally achieve if said victim fails to realize that the song was planted--that the ninja has snuck into the subconscious and planted said song. One of my favorite victims (she knows who she is and if she gets around to reading this) will probably be singing "bye, bye, miss American pie..." by the time she finishes reading this. Now, I know that I'm not a very good ninja after all, because ninjas do not reveal their secrets to anyone. Oh well. The point of this story is to say that I like to ninja myself sometimes since I don't listen to music through earphones while riding. Reggae is great when biking. It provides a great cadence beat. I was humming "Buffalo Soldier" as I crossed Washington Pass.
As to the title of this post. When I stopped for lunch, I started to make peanut butter and Ritz sandwiches. After the third one, I took a nice big swig of the lemon-strawberry gatorade and immediately wished I had not. It's a lethal combination. Don't try it.
I took a brief cooling shower in a waterfall by the side of the road and filled up my water bottles with pure Cascade mountain water. I mean, how much more pure can you get than glacial? At this altitude I wasn't worried about farm waste or animal waste. 24 hours later, I'm still not sick.
During my phone conversation with Clete earlier in the morning, I had expressed concern about the climb. "Well, you know what they say about climbing hills don't you? You can look forward to going down it once you get to the top. The decent off of Washington pass was insane 7 straight miles of a 7% grade. It was kind of scary and by the time I made it to the town of Mazama around 5:30 my hands were aching from the breaking. I could have gone a lot faster than I did during the decent, but the winds were whipping and with the panniers and all I wasn't too sure about how well I could control the bike if a big gust came along. I stayed at the Mazama Mountain View in (a luxury, but my knees were both barking and my butt was aching and I needed a hot soak).
Today I'm in Winthrop, WA, using the computer at the public library to update de online journal. Once I'm finished I'm heading only 15 more miles to the town of Twisp before the next big climb. Camping tonight.
And now I'd like to turn things over to Kromwell, the Caustic Crow for the Road Kill Report. Take it away, Kromwell...
Thanks, "Ninja boy." You know ninjas are over, right? Who am I kidding? I'm talking to a guy in spandex shorts and a bandanna, who's updating his bleurg in a public library. So...the report. In the, like, 3 days we've been travelling, pickings have been awful slim. It's almost as if the"Plow Master" here is too busy waxing nostalgic than he is in finding me some good road kill, but here goes anyway.
Day 1--Clinton to Anacortes, NOTHING.
Day 2--Anacortes to Marblemount, At mile 57 on Route 20, we came across a dessicated robin's carcass. I give it one-and-a-half crow feet. At mile 68, another robing carcass, a little fresher, but it gets only 1 crow foot because of repetition.
Day 3--Marblemount to Mazama, FINALLY! At Mile 148, a green and yellow snake! Super fresh. Something you'd want to take home to mom. I would give it 5 out of 5 crow feet, but it was so fresh it was still moving, thus would require a little more work from me, so 4.5 crow feet for the snake. Mile 152, salamander jerky. .5 crow feet.
At the end of Day 3 as we cruised down to Mazama, we passed a sign warning that "year to date" there have been 141 deer/car collisions. Neither deer or car carcass (haw! car carcass!) littered the shoulders so I'm assuming there are some pretty voracious crows in these here parts.
But what about the slugs I ran over during that stretch of rain on Day 2?
Slugs?! We don'ts likes it, Precious. No We's don'ts.
Uh...O.K. Um thanks Kromell for that insightful report.
Bite me!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Shakedown: Day 0
Well, it's almost time. It's about 8 a.m. and I've finished packing. Chris, Mo, Knickerboker, and I are having breakfast at a Seattle staple called The Dock. Afterward, we're driving about 30 miles north to the town of Everett where Maureen's folks live. After we drop off Maureen and Nicholas, Chris is going to drive me down to the Mukilteo ferry terminal where I'll offload my bike and gear and bid adieu to Chris. The Mukilteo ferry takes me to to Whidbey Island and the town of Clinton. I'll ride from Clinton to Anacortes today. Check it out on the map. It's about 50 miles ride and should be lovely. If I start riding at two like I hope, I'll be pitching my tent in Anacortes around 6:30 or 7.
I'm not sure when I'll have access to a computer for the next update, but it should come w/in a few days. I want to recount meeting Kent Peterson for coffee and also the baby daddy tattoo club. But right now I'm doing a little research on Whidbey Island. Turns out, it's one of the largest and longest islands in the contiguous United States. Only Padre Island in Texas, Long Island, NY, and Isle Royale, MI are larger.
So before I leave Seattle, I need to memorialize one of the most indelible images from my visit here--the back of a Ford Escalade belonging to a neighbor in Chris and Mo's neighborhood. Now that vehicle has balls!
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Everything But The Kitchen Sink
Hi there. Just finishing up digesting a delicious dinner prepared by Chris. The last I'll have at my gracious host's house until the next time I visit. He made us something that he calls General Rufus's Chicken. Apparently, there was a General Rufus in Chris's family who fought in the Civil War. "I just want to honor my family history in some special way," Chris says when I asked him about it. It is a tasty affair and you can ask him for the recipe if you are so inclined. I am. So I thought one of my final entries from the west coast should be a catalogue of everything (other than the bike) that is going to accompany me on the long ride. I'm also including a display picture of everything (Chris's suggestion). Enjoy.
In no particular order:
1 pair cycling shoes (Specialized MTB)
1 pair (old) running shoes
1 bar of Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap Peppermint (ooo tingly) and soap case
1 razor w/one replacement blade (who knows if I'll get around to shaving at all)
1 container of BUTTer (I wouldn't ask if I were you)
16 fl oz No-Ad Sunscreen SPF 50 thank you very much
1 Toms of Maine stick deodorant
1 vial Doctor Saing's Orange Oil (brought back from Thailand and good for aches and pains)
1 container floss
1 tube Blistex 1
container of Carmex (sometimes I feel like a nut, sometimes I don't)
1 Rand McNally Atlas from 2005
1 complete set of Adventure Cycling maps (Northern Tier)
1 set of Adventure Cycling maps (Great Lakes connector)
1 bath sized Pac Towel
2 hand sized Pac Towels
Assorted set of bungee cords
First aid kit (everything but the morphine)
30 feet of cotton cord
1 Roll of black Duct Tape (woo!)
1 Chica Bag (birthday prezzie from Jen and Al)
MSR Blacklite camp cook set and utensils
MSR Dragonfly Stove with small propane tank
1 Tripod
1 Canon A560 digital camera (plus extra memory chip)
Pair of Ortleib Bike Roller Classic rear panniers (orange!)
Pair of Nashbar panniers given to me for Christmas about 5 years ago
Pair of Camelback rain covers re-purposed as raincovers for Nashbar panniers
Marmot 2-person tent Kelty 25 degree down sleeping bag
1 10 millimeter wrench
1 adjustable wrench
1 Topeak Alien Bike Tool (gracias, Trixie)
1 bent hex wrench
1 set of tire levers
1 pump
1 patch kit
2 spare inner tubes
1 container Super Glue
1 Leatherman Tool
1 plain old pocket knife
Assorted bag of nuts and bolts
4 oz loose black tea (just to get me started in the morning)
1 tea infuser
1 tin cup
1 magnesium fire starter w/flint (courtesy of Kent Peterson. Thanks Kent!)
Kryptonite cord bike lock + extra length of cord
1 cel phone + charger
4 AA rechargeable batteries + charger
1 Grundig mini world band receiver AM/FM/Shortwave
2 notebooks
2 Uniball ball point pens (Red)
1 copy of Discarded Science: Ideas That Seemed Good at the Time
3 pair cycling socks
2 pair ankle socks
1 pair Thai farmer pants donated by Chris
3 pair cycling shorts
1 pair regular shorts
3 pair boxers
2 cycling jerseys
3 cotton tees short sleeve
1 long sleeve cotton tee
2 cotton button shirts
1 waffle thermal top
1 Marmot Precip rain jacket
1 North Face windbreaker
1 helmet
1 pair cycling gloves (thanks Jen and Al)
wallet
passport
20 Canadian dollars and an Altoids box to carry change in (thanks Chris)
and oh yes, the ROOSEVELT hat. Mustn't forget that.
Whew...and it all weighs less than 45 pounds and fits on my bike. At the end of this ride, I'm sure that I'll compile a list of things that I wish I had taken and items that I wish that I hadn't.
This Has Nothing to Do With Cycling
A little more than two weeks ago, right before leaving for Seattle, a package arrived in the mail. The return address identified the sender as my nephew Mark. The notebook! It had finally arrived.Mark takes old album covers and turns them into journal notebook covers. He showed some to me the last time I was in North Carolina and I was really impressed. He had a pretty decent collection of vintage covers to choose from and I jokingly asked if he had, in his library Whipped Cream & Other Delights. Turns out, he did. I unwrapped the package and there it was, a beautiful 7 x 9 notebook with said album cover perfectly cropped. That is...nothing is missing that can't already be missed. Or do you miss my meaning?
I remember this album being one of a very few albums that my parents owned. I also remember not liking this album for the music. In fact, I don't think I ever played it on our stereo system. I didn't actually become familiar with the Tijuana Brass until I was an adult.
It's a notebook I'll prize for a long time. It ended up being too heavy to bring with me on the trip however. Mark has about a dozem more examples of his handy work here.
They're available for order too, I think. I've been meaning to get to mention of Mark's handiwork for a while now. He's a sharp tack, that Mark.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Subtext Anniversary Reading
Last night I attended the Subtext Reading Series 13th anniversary reading. Subtext recently moved from it's world headquarters at the Richard Hugo House in Seattle to The Good Shepherd Center's Chapel Performance Space. There were over 20 readers! Fortunately for the audience, each reader was allowed a maximum of 2 minutes to read. Since Chris has been deeply involved with the subtext series he was a featured reader. Some of the other readers included were Curtis Bonney, Joseph Bradshaw, Daniel Comiskey, Christine Deavel, April Denonno, Diana George, Adriana Grant, Marion Kimes, Drew Kunz, Sarah Mangold, Ezra Mark, Bryant Mason, Robert Mittenthal, Paul Nelson, Mickey O’Connor, John Olson, Roberta Olson, Willie Smith, Craig Van Riper, Nico Vassilakis, and Maged Zaher.Chris (because his name was drawn from a hat first) went firt. He was--of course--great. He read from his "Bunny" series and I had a blast listening to some newer parts of it.
As I was sitting there waiting for the reading to begin, I realized that it was exactly a year ago to the day that I had read in the subtext series. Here are two poems from that set (just to shake it up a bit).
Cardboard Fact
Adjectives tell you what to think
of what you remember of this conversation.
Someone deep inside the mountain is a bully.
Someone who wants to play with you,
but won’t say they want to play with you.
Those we know and don’t know
but mostly don’t know.
Blood, in this exploratory scenario, is spilled
and always a defiant so-and-so when Secret
Idea finds absent a in language
while befuddled b wallows around in the circuit
architecture of corporate aggravation. And so on…
Indie Screenplay
On a landscaped island in the lush
middle of the office park parking lot
a focus group talks about Zeno
and his paradox. The tiny plastic toys
cry “Open wide” and wide I open
to the nefarious lollipops of pulp magazines.
You only missed me by minutes.
Stealing ideas for bikinis,
Secret Idea is charting it all down.
“Eiffel Towers in those fish-nets.
Fish nets in the Eiffel Tower.” Advance the frame
in order to remember what you remember.
Shakedown (or Getting Lost is Half the Fun)
Yesterday, I took the new bike on a 55-mile shakedown ride. That is, with everything I'm going to take with me loaded onto the bike. See picture at left. We sped through the Burke-Gilman Trail around the northwest portion of Lake Washington to where this wonderful trail ended and then attempted to find the Sammamish River Trail to take us all the way down to Lake Sammamish (love that name). The idea was to take the SRT to the I-90 trail, the I-90 trail to the Elliot Bay Trail back to the Burke-Gilman and then to Chris and Mo's house. When the B-G Trail ended I spent about 30 minutes looking for the SRT. Despite asking a number of other cyclists and motorist, I was unsuccessful and found myself staring at the prospect of being lost. Oh well, I said, I'll just head south and will eventually hit the I-90 trail (mind you, I'm not really sure which way is south and the I-90 is about 15-20 miles away). I had been averaging about 18 miles an hour on the B-G Trail and I was feeling pretty confident. Three 25 degree climbs later, I wasn't feeling so confident. Oy, the Seattle area has some unforgiving hills. I finally found my bearings and made my way slowly (due to busy traffic and more hills) through some posh neighborhoods until finally I hit the I-90 trail. I have got to digress for a minute. Seattle is the best city I've ever ridden a bike in. Period. There are so many miles of non-motorized trails and bike paths that it boggles the mind. NYC is making strides, but are still way way way behind in this respect. The I-90 bridge is a lovely ride that goes across Mercer Island kind of the same way that the Queensboro goes over Roosevelt Island--except about 5 times as long and with a trail devoted solely to bike and pedestrian traffic. It was beautiful. The 45 degree climb that was waiting for me on the Seattle side of the bridge was not. I was having a little trouble coaxing the front derailleur to shift into Granny so I ended up pushing my bike up the final 3rd of this climb. Boo! I wandered north from this climb until I found myself at Volunteer Park. Nearly a year ago, Chris introduced me to this lovely spot. I wasn't quite able to enjoy this spot though. I had biked 50 miles so far and it was getting dark. Oh, I forgot to mention that I didn't start this ride until about 3:30 in the afternoon. I made my way to Eastlake Avenue and after crossing University Bridge, was back at casa Putnam in about 5 minutes. Overall, I'm tickled pink with the Surly. It provides an extremely tight ride. I think I may have nailed the weight distribution on the first try, but don't want to count my chickens yet. Because of the front rack, I've got a limited turn radius (the top of the rack hits the downtube if I turn too deeply, I'll need to be careful of that), but the bike seems to handle pretty well. My stopping ability isn't the greatest, especially on the downhill (again, I'll have to be careful here). I went to bed last night sore, but very happy with the initial results. Today, I'm going over to the Bicycle Alliance of Washington to meet Kent Peterson. He's the author of Kent's Bike Blog and someone who knows a great deal about long distance riding. He's also a terrific writer and has an eye for the quirky. I like the quirky too. I think we're going to have coffee and talk shop.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Red Hook Vendors Pressed to Get New Permit
Those of you who know me know how much I love the soccer taco season in Red Hook. This news from The New York Times is just horrid. Horrid, I tell you.
Bike Governor's Island
I just learned that Governor's Island in NYC is once again open to to the public this summer. What's more, they're allowing cycling in designated areas. This is very cool (car free!) and I hope I make it back before their summer season ends. I'd love to check it out. Here's some information. Looks like a bunch of concerts and stuff are taking place there too.
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