Biking The Urban Cow Pasture

On The Purple That Never Ceases

2012-01-27T13:39:00.000-08:00

Richards Street At Sunset

From the 305 Van Brunt Street Show

It's common knowledge that Red Hook has the prettiest sunsets in all of New York City.

Not-so-common knowledge? The E.J. Trum (reverse "R") billboard is really a cosmic antenna.

That is all.

Further Along

2012-01-21T11:46:00.000-08:00

From the 305 Van Brunt Show
Vanishing points imply ruler drawn straight lines, and the imposition of abstract architectural overlay on the scene. I love how picture battles against that imposition. The arterial canopies of the trees and the calligraphic tire tracks, meander in counter valence to the formal edges of the buildings, the decorative park gate, the curb, and the ghost border where the snow ends and the road begins. All points are vanishing points—but more so in the snow.

and miles to go...

This picture was taken last February. I remember the ride pretty well. Snow had been on the ground pretty much the entire year up until that point. Riding around in it was no big deal. This ride was pure honkytonk piano run (think "Hot Potato" by The Kinks — also Don't Honk, $350 Penalty).

I gave this photo kind of a misleading title by taking a line from Robert Frost's most anthologized poem, "Stopping By The Woods On a Snowy Evening." But where that poem is a paean to stubborn solitude, there's hardly any solitude in this picture. Yes, it's the only photo in the show that does not have another human being in it, but I am the eye. I am the human in it. And with that eye, am happy to see the presence of others etched in the snow in front of me and to be able to recognize something entirely other and wild in those tracks. It's comforting to know that humanity doesn't naturally tend towards the straight lines of artifice — that we wobble a bit along our way. Yeah. I think this photo has more in common with Douglas Rothschilds poem "Further Along" than Frost's — especially in the final lines.

What next Manhattan?
i will not be here again
for a long time — there
are only twelve more shopping
days till X-Mass & i

don't even know for whom
i'm buying these things.
It's the flashing lights &
the seeminglessness of
purpose that attracts me.

Christmas Trees — Fire
Engines —Police Cars or
Emergency Vehicles —it's
all the same: Someone
needs help. Someone else

is coming. What more
could any of us ask
beyond this static re-
assurance? i grumble,
walk South, watch the

River rise, & think of
"the beuté of hem nat
susteyene," as the tide
chews away at the reed-
covered Pier. So much

of what we resemble
reassembles us.

Still LIfe at Stuyvesant Square

2012-01-17T13:47:00.000-08:00

August 20, 2010

From the 305 Gallery Show

A quotidian stoplight snapshot. Still Life, but there isn’t really anything still in this picture except for me. This one ends up being rare because multiple points of movement are rendered as crisp stills. A un-staged wind up staginess to it. The freshly paved macadam surface is simply a coal colored orange peel. The sunlight hunting in the west animates leaves, glass, faces. Stoplights gone domino for blocks and blocks. Pedestrians, cyclists, cabs – everything moving in a slightly robotic way. Even the color in the sky, mechanical. Opening the face of the grandfather clock to view the innards. Even the trees, husbanded as they are within the 2-block long confines of Stuyvesant Square. Of course it looks robotic, it's above 14th Street, isn't it?

Manhattan Bridge Diptych

2012-01-14T08:46:00.000-08:00

Two More From 305 Van Brunt The Show
The two images below were captured during the summer of 2010. They were taken on opposite ends of the Manhattan Bridge bike path. The one on the left is on the Brooklyn side and the one on the right is on the Manhattan side.

They're bookends. Physically, there's barely a mile between these two points on a map. Between the two subjects, however, the distance between their states of mind could not be farther apart. Both are deeply into their own heads. On the left we have troubled contemplation, On the right, perfect meditation. I think of these two men as allegorical sentries and love the way these two pictures talk to one another about journey and place, about crossings and humanity. The guy meditating on the left is still, yet his mind is actively pursuing a higher state. Over in Brooklyn, the body language says agitation, but in this guy's head, there's dead calm and perhaps despair. Then there's the backdrop. In Brooklyn, the Jehovah's Witness headquarters Watchtower Building, looms over the sad gentleman. In Manhattan, meditation guy is watched over by a benign piece of smiley face graffiti.

I never saw the Brooklyn sentry again, but I encountered Meditation Guy (as I ended up calling him) all that summer. I actually took a whole series of Meditation Guy. Check it out. Watch the progression of Meditation Guy and the world around him. In a way, this set is the closest I've come to the Tom Phillips piece I mentioned in the last post. Everything changes — billboards, graffiti, the weather. Although he's the most constant thing in the set, even Meditation Guy changes it up occasionally.

When summer ended, so did Meditation Guy's morning ritual. I haven't seen him since that summer. I hope both gentlemen are out there doing well.

There Is Always Something Coming Toward You

2012-01-05T19:34:00.000-08:00

This post is about one of the photos I have installed at 305 Van Brunt Street — see previous post. I plan on writing about each of the 11 pieces in the show this month.

About 5 years ago, I started carrying a digital point-and-shoot with me on my rides in an attempt to capture the brief, but vivid sights and sounds of my 20-mile bicycle commute in New York City. I was inspired by Tom Phillips "humdrum epic" 20 SITES n Years, but instead of taking one photo of one place over the course of years, I was going to photo the entirety of the commute every day. Of course, originally I was going to try and emulate his project a little more closely by taking a photo-a-day off the Manhattan Bridge. Turns out I'm not patient enough to stop in the middle of a ride to set up a shot. The ride is the thing, see, and the rhythm of the ride is important to the pleasure of the ride. You don't need to stop and smell the flowers when you are in an unending field of flowers — flowers made out of steel and concrete and flesh and rubber and light and all of them always coming toward you. I stopped a few times and snapped some nice pictures of the East River and lower Manhattan from the same perspective, but it didn't really do anything for me. Sorry Tom. The urge to take pictures was pretty strong though. How was I going to do it? Digital cameras are small enough to carry in pockets and I could just pull it out and snap the picture with one hand while keeping the bike in control with the other. Right? No. I needed something more-or-less hands free. Something that would offer safety and speed.

I decided I would try and film my commute with a camcorder. I borrowed one from my very trusting friend, Mimi, and with about a half a roll of ductape, managed to strap the camera to my helmet. There were multiple issues: shakey shakey video, a weight distribution problem that kept pulling my helmet into my eyes, and I looked fairly ridiculous. I returned the camcorder and engineered a different solution. By engineer, I mean I used bungee cords to strap my point-and-shoot to the handlebar of my bike as best I could. It worked, but I quickly determined it wasn't practical to rig the system every day. Finally, I settled on a mount and clamp system I found online at Campmor. It's called the ultraclamp.

You Go Girl: taken with Canon Powershot A560 on October 4, 2008

And then I took this picture — took it literally on the third or fourth trip with the new clamp. It's not perfect, a little washed out and just ever so out of focus, but when I saw it on my computer screen, I just stopped and stared. Up until that point, most of the photos has been pretty blah or completely out of focus. This one, however, it caught my attention. This one started the whole thing. Portraiture, storytelling, action, composition and poetry — all there and all born from happenstance. Like I said, there's always coming toward you — starlight, an 18-wheeler, your children, soundwaves, a whiff of orange, your next failure, the next war, word, or worry, a full beer from your bartender, your birthday, a poem, a friend. In this case, three BMXers, a fairly famous graffiti tag, and some of the lovelist bridge architecture anywhere, was headed my way. I'm just lucky I caught it.

Circles Within Circles: A Red Hook Photography Show

2011-12-26T12:18:00.000-08:00

Eleven of my bicycle commute photos will be on display at 305 Van Brunt Street in Red Hook through January. I'm going to be writing about the pictures and the show throughout the course of the month. Come on by and check it out.

The Background
For much of the past three years, I have been documenting my daily bicycle commute in digital photos taken from the handlebar of my bicycle. The commute is approximately 19.5 miles round trip and I ride pretty much year round. I tend to capture an average of 120 images per day. Since October of 2008, I've taken over 33,000 pictures of this 20 mile route. An obsession, this.

The photos were taken with two different point and click digital cameras — a Canon Powershot A560 and more recently, a Panasonic Lumix dmc-ts1. I got the waterproof and shockproof Panasonic after an incident one day on the Manhattan Bridge left the Canon shattered. The Panasonic has been going strong since March of 2010.

Me with the bike and camera. I mount the camera to the handlebar with the Pedco Ultraclamp

Every day, I upload that day's commute to Flickr and both enjoy and cringe. See, I'm taking photos while biking. Since I'm biking, I'm moving, and since I'm moving I can't take time to really focus or arrange the shot. Thus, about 99% are pure garbage — out of focus, uninteresting, or repetitive. Most of the time I'm disappointed with the results, but there are instances of happenstance where everything comes together. Out of those 33,000 pictures I've taken, I've labeled over 450 as "favorites." You can see them all here. I tend to share these favorites across several social media platforms and harass friends and family with them. The photographs have taken on a life of their own. I've written a short chapbook of poems inspired by them and I've often thought about printing large versions of some fo my very favorites. That's where my friends Jen and Jim come in.

Jim is a neighbor of mine who also happens to commute on a regular basis by bicycle. His wife, Jen, runs a storefront gallery in the building they own. The've hosted about 8 shows this past year - one a month. One day this past November, over a pint at our local bar, Jim and I are talking about biking and the pictures I've been taking and Jim suggests that I do a January show in the storefront. I quickly agreed and here we are.

Epicycles
Here's a poem by Wallace Stevens called "The Pleasures of Merely Circulating"

The garden flew round with the angel,
The angel flew round with the clouds,
And the clouds flew round and the clouds flew round
And the clouds flew round with the clouds.

Is there any secret in skulls,
The cattle skulls in the woods?
Do the drummers in black hoods
Rumble anything out of their drums?

Mrs. Anderson's Swedish baby
Might well have been German or Spanish,
Yet that things go round and again go round
Has a rather classical sound.

When it came closer to the time I would put up my pretty pictures, I started to panic a little. I know nothing about photography. I understand the ekphrastic pleasure of a picture that tells me a story, but with regards to the technical aspect, I'm a less than a lump on a log. I turned to Jen, a visual artist in her own right, with a selection of photographs for her to choose from or give me advice about. Instead, she gave me some pretty good perspective on the entire project — good photos as well as bad photos. She said to me "I think its interesting because rather than choosing a particular group of people to photograph, your project is sort of all the people, but within the parameter of your route. It also captures the idea of how we all weave in and out of each others lives, all on our own routes." Her insight has helped me crystalize and idea about this (okay I'll go ahead and call it a project) project and led me to be less concerned about the the photography aspect of it all.
I want to talk about epicycles.

From Ardhi_M's photobucket stream

The Astronomer, Ptolmey, proposed a geocentric model of the solar system way back in the 2nd century. His system accounted for the retrograde motion of observable planets in the night sky by putting the planets on invisible tracks in the sky with each planet circling planet earth. Each planet travelled on two tracks. The large track is the deferent and the smaller one (orbiting the deferent) is the epicycle. His model allowed ancient astronemers a modicum of accuracy with their heavenly predictions.

The deferent is a constant, fixed circle — or, in other words, my commute. The epicycle moves around the deferent on it's own axis while orbiting that axis. The people and objects I encounter on my commute are part of the epicycle. Wheels within wheels within wheels, or the pleasures of merely circulating and encountering and passing through.

It all does have a rather classical sound, I'll grant, but at the same time, the movement of the bicycle and the element of chance lends a bit of edge to the whole thing as well. I'm still working the whole epicycle thing out (what, for instance, replaces the Earth in my analogy) and it may be that there isn't anything to work out, that the conceit is merely a conceit.

The Show

In the end, I chose 11 images to display in Jen and Jim's storefront. Four of them have been printed 16 X 20 and seven are 11 X 14. Come on down and check them out and send me feedback. Over the course of the next month, I'll devote an entry to each piece.

An Exercise in Happenstancery

2008-10-27T10:05:00.001-07:00

I'm back! Go to my Flickr page to view images of my daily commute. Sounds boring, but it aint! Honest!

I like to wax poetic sometimes about my commute to work by bike...that rather than subjecting myself to the hellish underworld of the subway where one gets to know other New Yorkers in a really up-close-and rarely personal way, I'm experiencing "The City" in a real way, that I'm interacting with it in a way that for me is more physical than abstract, more active than passive, that I'm giving my brain the kind of exercise it does not get when I'm sitting still, because I'm still quite a bit when I'm at work or at home. And, of course, I like to say that I see a lot of cool things.

A few weeks ago, I was coming down the Manhattan side of the Manhattan Bridge, the sky was a perfect blue screen. The outlines of the Chinatown buildings were clear and sharp. It was just a beautiful day. As I descended into the buildings of Chinatown, I glanced to my right (the north) and the image of both the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building...framed in perspective on either side by rows of tenament buidlings dwindling into the distance...flickered into my line of vision for a second and then was gone. The moment was so brief but so vivid, I started thinking how it's a shame a lot of what I see doesn't really translate when I try to talk about it. So, I started investigating camera mounts for bicycles. After a lot of searching I finally went to Campmor and found this. I should have just gone there first.

Anyway, I've been taking photos every day since. Pretty much everything that comes out is the result off dumb luck. I don't have the luxury to point and shoot, I just hope the camera takes the photo in time and I don't wobble too much as I'm using one hand to steer and the other to push the button. I've created a flickr account just to upload the many many pictures I've taken over the last month. The photos seem to fall in 4 or 5 categories. Portraits of other cyclists, Portraits of Pedestrians at sidewalks, Bridge photos, abstract night photos, and traffic images. The one I'm showing here, is by far my favorite. You Go Girl!

Indeed.

I'd love to hear what people have to say to go check 'em out.

Peelander Z

2008-08-15T20:38:00.001-07:00

Medium Rare is how I like my steak too.

King Missile - My Heart Is A Flower

2008-05-23T20:48:00.001-07:00

"Bicyclist" a show in celebration of Bicycle Month IN RED HOOK

2008-05-21T08:32:00.001-07:00

"Bicyclist", a show in celebration of Bicycle Month. Art about bikes by people who ride 'em will be on display at the Gallery from Thursday May 22nd thru June 1. A reception for the artists will be held on Thursday May 22nd, 5-8 PM.

Featured Artists:

Blaise Larmee, Jason Workman, Anne Beck, Jerry Dellaratta, Paul Calver, Pasqualina Azzarello, Maria Wallace and others

A portion of the proceeds will be donated to Brooklyn Greenway Initiative.

Gallery Hours for "Bicyclist": 1-6 Saturday and Sunday. Other days, by chance and by appointment

By car Brooklyn Bridge to Atlantic Ave toward waterfront, after BQE overpass, make left onto Columbia St(at light), right on Degraw St.(at light), left onto Van Brunt,16 blocks to Wolcott St. (just past PS 15 school yard) > Park on Van Brunt, Walk 1 block east on Wolcott to Richards St.

Dog riding bike

2008-05-16T12:49:00.001-07:00

oh no.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 14

2008-05-11T07:55:00.000-07:00

Harry Revel, Music Out of the Moon

The moon is a very groovy place. A very very groovy place…with Theremins and stuff.

Here are the track listings from Music on the Moon. Need. Copy. Now.

Lunar Rhapsody
Moon Moods
Lunette
Celestial Nocturne
Mist O' The Moon
Radar Blues

I wonder if Stephen Merritt owns this album.

The Best Sci Fi Album Covers, Part 13

2008-04-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

Bongwater, The Power of Pussy—1990

Anybody paying homage to Raquel Welch’s stinker 1 Million Years B.C. is okay in my book. Though it may not be strictly sci-fi. The movie has dinosaurs in it…and Ms. Welch in animal furs. The Power of Pussy is probably in my 10 top favorite albums to listen to of all time. Band member Ann Magnuson was my fantasy girlfriend for a while there. She stars opposite John Malkovich in the b-movie android flick Making Mr. Right.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 12

2008-04-26T08:47:00.000-07:00

Vangelis, Hypothesis—1978

I don't know a whole lot about Vangelis, except Chariots of Fire and, of course Blade Runner, but I did figure I'd score an excellent album cover if I did some digging in the New Age section. And I did. Boy Howdy. I am totally craving jello now.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 11

2008-04-18T09:04:00.000-07:00

Parliament, Mothership Connection—1976

Put your sunglasses on! This is probably my second favorite sci-fi album cover in this list. George Clinton said about the album, "We had put black people in situations nobody ever thought they would be in, like the White House. I figured another place you wouldn't think black people would be was in outer space. I was a big fan of Star Trek, so we did a thing with a pimp sitting in a spaceship shaped like a Cadillac..." Brilliant.

Coming to you directly from the mothership, here is your P-funk if you want it. It’ll improve your interplanetary funksmanship. It really will.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 10

2008-04-17T12:06:00.000-07:00

The Misfits, Walk Among Us—1982

Yeah, I know. The Misfits are "Horror Punk." Doesn’t that disqualify them here? See: saucers in the back ground. See: Astro Zombies. See: Glenn Danzig. You wanna tell him he can’t be on my list?

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 9

2008-04-16T07:49:00.000-07:00

Megadeth, Rust in Peace—1990

Rust in Peace came out after my relationship with MTV and Headbangers Ball had ended. Sure, we would hook up like exes sometimes do for a nostalgic rendezvous every now and then, but I’d always feel guilty and not a little dirty afterward. The video for the signature song on Rust in Peace is a little ditty about our favorite town in New Mexico. The song is called “Hangar 18” and boy, does it tell a story. Basically, it looks as though the government (led by Mr. Grinning Skull Guy) are harvesting alien organs. From like, 50 different species of aliens! The members of Megadeth are mad as hell about it. Why? Well why not watch it and see? Look for the mini Sleestak at around 5:13.

Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 8

2008-04-15T12:19:00.000-07:00

ZZ Top, Afterburner—1985

Afterburner (1985) is a terrible ZZ Top album. It is sittin’-on-the-tailgate-of-your-F150-drinking-Bartyles-and-James-and-smoking-clove-cigarettes-up-the-holler-round-at-midnight bad. But the album cover? It’s nearly perfect. Who doesn’t remember the bad ass “Eliminator” hot rod in multiple ZZ Top videos? It’s the car that empties scantily clad women ala a Ringling Brothers clown car. ZZ Top…they’re about fast cars, fast women, and fast music. What exemplifies speed more than a pimped out 1933 model Ford? Why, a space shuttle/Eliminator mash up, that's what? That thing is beautiful. And it’s moving so fast that it appears to be bending space!

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 7

2008-04-15T07:31:00.000-07:00

Beck, Mellow Gold—1994

I'm not including this album cover because I think it is one of the best. I want to prove a point.

See Ecclesiastes 1:9—The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.

Now see “Turbo Lover,” by Judas Priest. Sorry Beck.

Also, Beck has a thing for Xenu.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 6

2008-04-14T11:12:00.000-07:00

ELO, Out of the Blue—1977

If any of you every played with Milton Bradley’s Simon when you were kid, you might be having an unpleasant big brother or big sister flashback as you look at this album cover. What we have here, of course, is another “Spaceship” themed cover.The cover depicts what I’m guessing is ELO’s private yacht docking with a ship that’s roughly the size of the Louisiana Superdome (a size necessary to accommodate Jeff Lyne's enormous afro). Here’s a clip from an ELO “Best Of” album commercial that prominently features the ELO ship. Apparently, the ship is also some sort of transformer as well.

Holy Crap! Here’s a side note. The ELO song “All Over The World” is featured in the 1980 movie Xanadu. I’ve never seen the movie, but now it’s just jumped up to the top of my queue. Oliva Newton John, Gene Kelly, and Michael Beck (Swan, from The Warriors)? Words fail, but at 1:50 into the clip, I was convinced. Completely.

The ship depicted on the cover of Out of the Blue is only one of a few iterations of ELO UFOs. A website called Halfpixel has a hilarious comparison between the Boston Guitar Ship and the ELO fleet. Journey makes an appearance too. Though valid points are made on the ELO side, the guitarship is still the best rock and roll space ship ever.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 5

2008-04-13T06:15:00.000-07:00

Boston Boston—1976

Continuing the theme of planetary destruction…I love this album cover. I love it. You love it. How could anyone not love this album cover. Here are some interesting questions the cover present. First of all: how AWESOME are the guitar shaped starships? Look at them closely. Forget the fact that they're shaped like guitars. Each ship carries an entire city beneath some sort of transparent bio domes. These things are enormous. I'd like to see one of them on that Starship Dimensions web site. In fact, I wrote the folks at Starship Dimensions to see if I could get some measurements. I haven't heard back from them yet. The flame-like material emanating from the guitarship's soundhole is, I think, a corporeal manifestation of ROCK exhaust. And there's a whole frickin' fleet of them (on the best image I could find I counted 10)…leaving a planet that is doing a fair impersonation of Krypton. I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that this is not the planet of origin for Boston. Seriously. If you were fleeing a doomed planet, you probably wouldn't have the time to build such classy city arks like these masterpieces No. I think Boston came to this planet and ROCKED it into tiny little pieces before moving on. Depending on your perspective then, Boston is not a particularly benevolent force in the galaxy.

Update: Here's some computer animation of the Boston Guitarship in action. I think it is pretty cool but don't think the scale is quite correct.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 4

2008-04-12T16:37:00.000-07:00

Yes, Fragile—1971

Progressive Rock and Roll very nearly owns the sci-fi album art category. This whole list could be made up of album cover art by just Yes and Asia. I’ve decided to narrow my choices to just one album by each band. The cover art for Yes' Fragile is just stunning. What an idyllic planet we’re looking at here. A simple white road traverses two "continents." Huge trees rear up from the surface along with monolithic rock formations (or maybe handmade towers?) The scale sort of reminds me of the planet from The Little Prince. There’s no greater or fragile spaceship than the planet you are on. That seems to be the message here. On the albums front cover, we have a top-down perspective. In the aether above the planet, some sort of crazy wooden ship orbits.

The back cover art shows presumably the same planet in the process of breaking apart. This apocalyptic turn of events underscores the idea of fragility, but also forces us to consider the purpose of the spaceship, which we can see now is fish shaped. What is its purpose. Is it here to rescue the inhabitants of this world or did it come here to destroy the planet This might be my favorite album cover of all time. Roger Dean is the artist responsible for this and many other Yes album covers. He also painted covers for Asia, Uriah Heap, and many others.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 3

2008-04-11T07:42:00.000-07:00

The Jacksons, Victory—1984

1984 was a mixed bag for Michael Jackson and his family. Off the incredible success of Thriller, Michael and his brothers recorded Victory. The album supporting "Victory Tour" was (at the time) the highest grossing concert tour ever. Albums were flying off the shelf and concert venues were sold out months in advance. Michael also had entered into a lucrative endorsement deal with Pepsi but we all know how that ended. The only thing I vaguely remember from this album is the song Michael sings with Mick Jagger called “State of Shock,” but I fully remember the album cover though. Who could forget it, depicting, as it does, the Jacksons on their home planet immediately before taking the great desert highway in the sky to Earth? Lest we forget, “Can You Feel It?” is a truly frightening video. Different album…but c’mon! The beginning is narrated by legendary word jazz guy Ken Nordine.

MacFarlene Toys? Listen up. We need a Victory line of Jackson action figures. Like…yesterday. Okay?

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 2

2008-04-10T05:50:00.001-07:00

Autograph, That's The Stuff—1985

I’m really very sorry for all of The Sarah Conner Chronicles' Cameron fans. I’m doubly sorry for all of you BSG Caprica fans, but the bot pictured in this 1985 album cover for Autograph’s That’s The Stuff is the second most sexy ROBOT ever. The first of course is the robot from Metropolis (also best mad scientist ever). The only reason this robot is being marginally modest with the t-shirt is to get a mid-80s Tipper Gore off of the bands back. We didn't see much of this lovely lady after That's the Stuff. Heck, we didn't see much more of Autograph after that. It does look like she was ~~whored out~~ re-purposed 18 years later to Aerosmith. She still looks pretty good on the cover of Just Press Play. But the cheesy Monroe nod? So lame. And the high polish etchttoo? So trendy. I guess that is one advantage of being a robot. If you don't like your etchtoo, you can get that thing sandblasted right off.

Autograph has at least one semi listenable song in their oeuvre. "Turn Up The Radio" was a staple on the radio when I was in the 9th grade. With lyrics like

I'm working hard.
you're working too.
We do it every day.
For every minute I have to work.
I need a minute of play.
Day in day out, all week long
things go better with rock...

Wow. Lyric gold. You really can't go wrong with this song.

I didn't remember the video, but after watching it, I have to say it is worth watching. Of special note is the mechanical pencil they use to "sign in." It's the same mechanical pencil I used in my 9th grade algebra class. The band appears to employ robotic roadies or something that appear to be the same model line as the robot above. Check it out.

The Best Sci-Fi Album Covers, Part 1

2008-04-09T05:15:00.000-07:00

Lately and for no reason at all, I’ve become obsessed with album covers that exhibit definite sci-fi tendencies. Actually, I think I’m interested in why a certain population of purveyors of popular music are so damned interested…at least visually…in the speculative, the futuristic, and the fantastic. So I’ve done a bit of research and want to present my favorite “sci-fi” album covers. I’ve disqualified patent supernatural images of demons or dragons else the list would be far too long. So sorry Black Sabbath, Jethro Tull, and Dio. The band Hawkwind deserves it’s own individual attention so I’m not including them here. So, in no particular order…

Judas Priest, Screaming for Vengeance—1982Sneaky, snarky, and one of the few transformers to actually sound like a robot, Soundwave was my favorite old school Decepticon. One of Soundwave’s coolest features were the tricked out audio cassettes living in it’s chest which would transform into a mélange of animal transformers. The coolest of these was Lazerbeak, which brings us to Judas Priest. This cover is sci-fierce! This mechanical bird of prey reminds me of Lazerbeak, but in a head to head battle between the two, I’d have to choose this guy. It was tough to choose between this Judas Priest album cover and Defenders of the Faith, which features an awesome Voltron-esque tank thing. But SfV has the track "You've Got Another Thing Coming," which beats the hell out of anything on DotF. For fun…check out Judas Priest video for “Turbo Lover.” It is one of the best videos EVER made…kind of a cross between T2/Mad Max…Ah hell, this video is in a league of its own. Rob Halford is no joke.

Stay tuned tomorrow for some human robot action.

Rocketship

2008-01-09T12:34:00.000-08:00

The second song on K. McCarty's 1992 album "Dead Dog's Eyeball." McCarty's covers were my introduction to Daniel Johnston way back in 1993. My ex wife had a friend who worked for Bar/None and we'd periodically get a box full of complementary CDs...usually jazz and usually John Coltrane (my beagle's namesake). This CD, with it's strange cover art was an enigma to me. I'd never heard of K. McCarty, Glass Eye, or Daniel Johnston. Honestly, I think the CD stayed in it's cellophane wrapper for about a year before I actually listened to it. When I did, I fell in love. When the ex and I split, she took the jazz, but I kept K. McCarty AND the beagle. I think I got the better end of the deal

Now this is what I'm talkin' about.

2007-11-19T09:07:00.000-08:00

What's not to love about this?

Foggy Coffey Park

2007-11-15T08:06:00.001-08:00

Red Hook was engulfed by fog early yesterday.

Not Like a Baroque Ceiling or Anything

2007-11-06T08:34:00.001-08:00

Very occasionally (like this morning) I will ride the train into Manhattan when the weather is just too pernicious and I am just too lazy. When I take the Subway, I usually bring Frank O'Hara's collected along with me for company. This morning, I rediscovered the following:

Fond Sonore

In placing this particular thought
I am taking up the cudgel against indifference
I wish that I might be different but I am
that I am is all I have so what can I do

as the hero of the hour I might have one strange destiny
but it is all mixed up and I have several
I can’t choose between them they are pulling me aloft
which is not to say up like a Baroque ceiling or anything

where is the rain and the lightning to drown or burn us
as there used to be
where are the gods who could abuse and disabuse us often
when am I ever in the country walking along a lane plotting murder

you would think that the best things in life were free
but they’re the worst even the air is dirty
and it’s this "filth of life" that coats us against pain
so where are we back at the same old stand buying bagels

I think that is would be nice to go away
but that’s reserved for TV and who wants to end up in Paradise
it’s not our milieu
we would be lost as a fish is lost when it has to swim

and yet and yet
this place is terrible to see and worse to feel
along with the purple you have contracted for an awful virus
and it is Christmas and the children are growing up

Spoooooook!

2007-11-01T10:44:00.000-07:00

Me (to cyclist at the foot of Manhattan Bridge last night): Ahoy there chap!
Fellow Cylist: Yeah?
Me: Say...What sort of Halloween creatures really love bicycle wheels?
Fellow Cyclist (not sure what to make of me): Uh...I don't know.
Me: Why, the SPOOOOOOKY ones, of course.

Mwah ha ha ha ha

My New Commute

2007-11-01T10:09:00.000-07:00

So I'm doing freelance work at a local hospital and have a wonderful new 9.2 mile commute to work. After work, I usually take the West Side Greenway back down, making the entire commute a 21 mile loop.

Although 1st Avenue can be dangerously congested in the mornings, I feel pretty at ease with the traffic. In NYC, the cars are usually only going as fast as you are and I tend not to hot foot it to work (I'd rather not show up drenched, you know). The only thing that bugs me are the exhaust fumes and I'm dealing with that by wearing a kerchief--not really my style, but it's a situation where function trumps form. If I were really concerned about form, I'd go find a vendor that sells a wider variety of bandanna than the paisley kind.

Highlights of my commute include biking past the UN building at 44th and 45th Streets. I've noticed this gargantuan bronze equestrian statue that I'm going to take some snapshots of for my friend Bill. He's planning on having an equestrian statue erected over his memorial grave site and I figure he needs to start collecting images of equestrian statuary as soon as possible for ideas.

At 59th Street, I'm often cycling beneath the Roosevelt Island Sky Tram. I love the sky tram and wish there were more of them all over the city. I think they make me nostalgic for that one James Bond film set partly in Rio de Janeiro.

Across the East River at 94th is Randalls Island, home of the Manhattan State Mental Hospital. There's a very cool pedestrian bridge (very minty green, very made-out-of-toothpicks looking) that crosses the narrow channel from Manhattan to Randalls. If you can stand the desolate bike path on the Tri-Boro, this little bridge is the way to get to it.

For the ride home, it's West to Central Park and then south through the park to 72nd Street. At 72nd Street, I head west to the Hudson River Greenway

The Greenway (except for its tendency to be overcroweded with other commuters) is just about the best bike path in the city. I take it all the way to Canal Street and then head east back to the Manhattan Bridge. From there it is "Home again home again jiggity jig."

I'm spending a little more than 90 minutes on my bike each day. Fantastic! Tomorrow, I'll share some photos from the commute.

About One Year Ago

2007-10-15T08:38:00.000-07:00

This here is the text of an email I sent last year on October 18th. It recounts an incident I witnessed on the Manhattan Bridge. This morning I remembered this incident and decided to share it. The moral: Wear your helmet!

From: Ethan Fugate [mailto:ejfugate@gmail.com]
Sent: Wednesday, October 18, 2006 1:43 PM
To: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: Always wear your helmet

So...I'm on my way to work this morning. Beautiful, warm, morning. I'm having a nice ride...except I notice that here and there, the surface is a little slippery--wet leaves on Clinton, metal plates all over the place--I'm thinking, be careful not to slide under a truck or something, Fugate. I get to the downhill Manhattan side of the Manhattan Bridge, which is always a nice part of the ride. You relax a little and let gravity do its work. I notice that about 100 yards in front of me is a familiar figure. It's the little old lady I see most mornings on my commute. She rides this tiny kids' bike with a bananna seat and is quite slow. I always enjoy seeing her. She's Chinese I think. You go, little old Chinese lady!

The Manhattan Bridge has two bike paths--one on the north side of the bridge and one on the south. The north path is supposed to be the bike path and the south side is the foot path. Earlier this month, they closed the north path for repairs and have redirected bikes to share the south path with pedsestrians. The south path has these metal connecting plates (I think they're connecting plates) which are curved and create a slight bump in the path. They aren't pleasant to ride over at high speeds. And this morning, one of them turned out to be treacherous for little old Chinese lady.

I'm catching up with her on the downhill and am about 30 feet behind her when she goes over one of the metal bump connectors. And then it was like watching one of those extreme video clips in slo mo. Her front tire gets out of control and turns 90 degrees, she goes over the handlebar like a rag doll, slams into the railing. I see her head head the concrete (no helmet) and then she ends up limp on the bike path. A pedestrian heading our way from about 40 feet from where we are drops her mouth and freezes.

I'm off my bike and next to her in what seems like an instant. She's face up and obviously in some kind of distress. I attempt to make a verbal assessment and ask "Are you okay? Are you okay?" The pedestrian has unfroze and starts to walk up to us. She's also of Asian descent. The old lady's eyes flutter open and then closed and then she makes this weird gurgling sound. I go to my saddle bag and get my phone to dial 911. I'm back next to the old lady and telling her she's going to be okay and trying to explain to the 911 dispatcher that no, we're not on the Brooklyn Bridge, we're on the Manhattan Bridge! about 5 times. As I'm talking to the dispatcher, I'm looking at grandma and suddenly this pool of blood starts to spread out from under her head--just like in the movies. "She's bleeding, man!" I yell into the phone and they tell me the EMTs are on the way and that I should try and stop the blood with a clean cloth.

I try to ask the pedestrian, who has stopped to gawk, whether she has any clean cloth, but she doesn't understand so...off with my outer shirt and I started applying pressure. There is so much blood. Meanwhile another cyclist stops and asks to help. I explain that I've called 911. He says "I saw a cop on the other side of the birdge. I'll go get him." and off he rides.

I'm holding the ladies hand and trying to keep her from getting up (which she does a couple of times) and trying to figure out the best way to staunch a head wound. The pool of blood is getting pretty big and I'm a little freaked out. The way that the blood had clotted in her hair made it feel like a huge flap of her scalp had been peeled off and egads it was freaky. Grandma touches my hand, which is covered in blood and then there's this point where she looks at her fingers, now covered in blood and realizes that she's bleeding. This look of terror fills her eyes and it's like her and me and I'm thinking "please don't die. please don't die little chinese lady."

A trio of joggers comes up and one of them all bossy like is "What happened?" She explains that she's a nurse practicioner and takes over. The bike cop that the cyclist went after finally arrives and now there are two folk who are more prepared for this kind of thing than me. Her two friends jog back down to the Manhattan side of the bridge to wait for the EMTs.

Nurse lady takes over. I've gotten my shirt under grandmas head as well as to apply pressure and she's like, no--don't elevate head wounds. She asks the cop for some gloves and he produces a pair of sterile gloves for her and she proceeds to examine the wound. Meanwhile, I'm still holding onto grandmas hand and trying to reassure her.

The cop takes my name and asks if I want gloves too and I hold up my bloody hands as if to say, doesn't really matter now. After what was about 5 more minutes, but something that seemed like more like an hour I spot the EMTs...fat, and casually walking up the path toward us. I mean they couldn't have walked any slower. Nurse explains to the EMTs when they finally got there. that it looks like an abrasion and that grandma's color is still good and she's responsive. I was glad to hear this. While the EMTs are wrapping up grandma's head, Nurse tells me, "Yeah. It really looked a lot worse than it is. Scalp wounds always bleed more than other wounds. It was a good thing you were here though." "But I was terrified. I thought she was dying." "Well she probably has a concussion, but you helped keep her calm. Blah blah blah." The EMTs get her on the gurney and I wave goodbye to grandma (she waves back) and then I proceed to finish my commute to work.

Moral of this story. Always wear a helmet.

Monty Python: Bicycle repairman!

2007-10-10T07:37:00.001-07:00

Zinc Bar Reading

2007-10-04T09:20:00.000-07:00

This past Sunday, I rode into the city to see one of my very best good friends, Jen, read with two other excellent poets at the Zinc Bar Reading Series. It was October 1 and 78 degrees in Brooklyn. Beautiful but strange weather for this time of year.

Jen read with two other poets, Chris Martin and MacGreggor Card. Hosted by poetry impressario, Jim Behrle, the Zinc Bar readings are usually quite good and often entertaining to boot.

Jen's poetry always climbs inside my head and tries to drive me around like I'm a giant robot and her poetry is the driver. This night, she made me want to go home and get writing. It was a good time. Here is an animation of one of the poems she read that night. It's about Pluto and is speedy so listen fast!

The Manhattan Bridge is still under some kind of renovation. Unbeknownst to me, it looks as though the north bike path has re-opened. This is good news. Excellent news. Super special candy coated news. Less congestion on the bridge and hopefully less pedestrian traffic since the southern side is more photogenic. As I was crossing Sunday night on the south side, all of the floor plates were flipped up and workers were crawling around in the wiring high above the East River. I kept getting flags in my face to slow down. I suppose it wouldn't be good to bike into one of those open holes. I'm so glad to hear the north path is open again.

Not-So Panasonic Sport Deluxe

2007-10-02T12:31:00.000-07:00

Coltrane and I came upon this wreck during an extended morning walk. She looks like a perfect candidate for my bike portrait series. This bike is chained to a street sign near the corner of Beard and Dwight Street, right across the way from what used to be Lillie's Bar. Come to think of it, I seem to recall seeing this very same corpse of a bike every time I visited that wonderful place. It sure looks like it's been there for a long time. I reckon the businesses moving into this part of RH won't brook bike corpses littering the land so I doubt it'll be there much longer. Anyway, we're looking at a Panasonic Sport Deluxe. The frame is a "woman's" frame, whatever that means. Here's a picture of what it might have looked like in its heyday. I get why the seat post and pedals are missing, but where, oh where did the tires go? Did they rot off or something?

Judging from the wear on chainstay, it looks at least as though this bike enjoyed a lot of use.

Inertia and a Transporter Malfunction

2007-09-14T05:50:00.000-07:00

So I’ve been back in NYC for over 2 months and haven’t been updating the blog at all, the reason for which will be explained shortly. Yesterday, my copy of the Poetry Project Newsletter came in the mail and it turns out there’s a little blurb about me and my trip and directing folks here to see what I’ve been up to. Guess I’d better get crackin’…

I’ve been up to just about but not quite absolutely nothing is what. I went from extreme momentum to extreme inertia in the matter of days after completing my trip and haven’t quite gotten up to normal speed yet. Or, if you’ll allow me to geek out for a paragraph or so…

Of all the possible twists and turns in the upscale and kooky sci-fi world of Gene Rodenberry, the most stressful possible plot point of an episode of Star Trek, in any of the franchises, is that moment when there is some sort of transporter malfunction. I'm not talking about the kind of malfunction when the poor redshirt being transported ends up a pile of goo on the tranporter platform floor, I'm talking about the kind that usually results from alien interference, a temporal anomaly, a feedback loop, or any other deus ex machina where-in the transportee is stuck in mid transport, his or her molecules unable to coalesce back into solid form. This phenomenon is usually portrayed on screen in the transporter room. Onlookers gape in horror as the ghosts of their crewmates appear on the transporter platform but do not completely appear and are unable to be resolved into whole beings again. The transporter hiccup moment is a moment that occurs at least once I think in each of the franchises and I've just recently realized, are moments that disturb me on a very basic level. Oh...it is a very stressful situation but is almost always resolved when the engineer performs some sort of "just in time" fine tuning but still...

Okay Poindexter, time to pull it together…which is what I’m doing. I’m pulling together a manuscript based on the trip and will hopefully get to showing it to folk w/in the next month or so.

Also, today’s the day I restart the blog. There’ll be regular entries and hey, we’re still about $1,500 bucks short of the cancer research goal. I really want to hit that goal by Novemeber. I’m also gonner start a bike portrait of the week entry. I’ve been thinking about how the personality of a bike exists even when and sometimes especially when it doesn’t have a rider. My neighborhood has its share of bikes locked up and I’ve been “taking portraits” of them. We’ll see. You’ll see. Everyone will see.

50 days--3,500 miles

2007-07-30T12:21:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, July 28 I dipped my tires into the Atlantic Ocean at Coney Island. My bike trip across the U.S. and Canada is done.

My good friends Jen and Allison biked the last few miles from their neighborhood in South Park Slope to Coney. We enjoyed the surf a little, had some greasy food, and were disappointed that the batting cages are completely gone.

I'm re-adjusting to the idea of not waking up and getting on my bike to ride. I'm also saying howdy to friends I haven't seen in nearly two months. It is a very interesting re-entry.

There are a number of gaps I want to fill in regarding the trip. Especially entries that I promised were forthcoming. They still are. Keep tuned for regular updates and thanks for all of the support and good will.

On Friday, the day I got back, I met Jen, Allison, Sue, Natasha, and Coltrane. Superfriends all.

Leaving Ontario--Part 1, Some Photos

2007-07-23T10:34:00.000-07:00

It's been 5 days since the last update. It's day 46 and I'm about 30 miles west of Syracuse, NY in the little town of Clyde, NY. I want to get back on the road, but have some interesting photos to share first. Part 2 of this entry will detail two of the most interesting days of this trip.

In the distance here, is the city of Toronto, as seen from across the lake in Grimsby, Ontario.

Leaving Ontario, Part II: A Total Tipping Point, a Blizzard, and Best All Around

2007-07-23T10:21:00.000-07:00

I woke from a troubled sleep at Lake Shalamar Campground, a family campground located just north of the Canadian side of the falls. The night before had been filled with the shrieks (profanity laced) of teenage girls gone wild. The Lake Shalamar Campground staff totally let the rest of us down when they did not get this situation under control early enough. These girls and their cougar mom/chaperon (yes, she hit on me) had their tent pitched in the space next to mine and this was one of those places where you are assigned a campsite and can’t find your own. It was also one of those places where the management thinks it is a good idea to hire a rock-n-roll cover band to entertain the rest of the campers. Yes…a campground cover band. Lake Shalamar is an “all-inclusive” campground I reckon.

But Ethan, you might be saying to me right now, didn’t you know that with the assigned campsite you would lose that precious independence you’ve worked so hard to achieve over the course of the ride? And…dude. Didn’t the flags go up when you learned there was going to be a band playing? A flipping band? At a campground?

Well…I was not happy about the camping situation, but then, I had learned that Camp Shalamar was just about all I could reasonably expect to find in terms of legal camping. Sure. I reckon I could have hobbitted off to some secluded spot off the side of the road, but at the end of my last day in Ontario, I was tuckered. Too tuckered to make a guerrilla go of it. So I figured I’d take my chances with the family campground. As far as the cover band goes…well, you’ve got me there. But…and I mean BUT…the band had this amazing handmade poster. A collaged affair taking two disparate elements and making them become one. To wit…the resulting collage image was that of Frank Sinatra and Dee Snyder (of Twisted Sister fame) singing a duet. Now. Let me ask you this. How many times have you been to a campground where a cover band played? How many times have you heard a cover band that did both Frank and Twisted Sister?

Okay? Okay. I thought that the sheer absurdity value of this band would more than make up for the potential loud factor. Also: the woman who assigned me my spot claimed that Lake Shalamar had a strict noise policy and that they would be done by 10.

All of this is wishful thinking. First of all, the commissary at this place sold .5% wine coolers. Hardly enough alcohol in those things to induce a sleep if things got loud (which they did). They were, however, Bartyle and James brand coolers, which sent me back to a nostalgic middle school place. Yeah…sorry mom and dad...wherever you are, but I managed to have my first wine cooler when I was in the 8^th grade. Second: the band played Van Halen and Eagles covers…and that’s all. And they played until 11:30. Third: see shrieking teenagers above.

Bitch. Bitch. Moan. Moan. It must be hard for a person who manages to find the time to do a cross country bike ride to deal with something as horrible as a bad night’s sleep. You poor thing. I know. I know. But I’m just trying to illustrate why it was that I was up at 4:45 in the morning and breaking down my camp. Also: why I was in a pretty poor mood when I first saw the falls.

You’ve seen the pictures from the first entry. Niagara Falls is beyond sublime in many ways. It’s also beyond man made in many ways. There is no experience of the falls that a person can have that is not mediated in some shape or fashion by a human hand. Even the falls themselves, the way they so evenly cascade over the lip is something that apparently has been crafted by us. All I could think of during that long and pretty wondrous morning was Red Velvet cake for some reason.

After leaving Niagara, I pedaled up to the Lewiston Bridge, the only bridge in the Niagara system that bikes are allowed to cross since 9/11. Apparently, us cyclists are a dangerous bunch. The bridge was busy. If it were an artery, it would have been having an aneurysm it was so clogged with vehicles. After 90 minutes, I was back on American soil and traveling to Lockport, NY, where I would hit the Erie Canal Tow Path and 90 miles of excellent cycling.

Also: I was back on the Adventure Cycling Map Route for the Northern Tier. I wondered if I would run into some other cyclists. Right when I got into Lockport, I received a call from Cindy telling me that she and Mark had been pulled over by the Canadian equivalent of the State Police. They told them that Highway 17 was not safe to bicycle on and that 2 weeks earlier a cyclist had been killed by an 18 wheeler. Cindy, Mark, and I had been complaining about Highway 17 to one another for a while and I wasn’t surprised when Cindy told me that she and Mark had rented a car and were on their way to Ottowa. I was also relieved to hear that they were both doing well. I’m certainly glad that I biked Ontario, but I don’t think I’ll ever do it again unless they pave some of them damn shoulders.

So…the Erie Canal Tow Path is going to be one day a 500-mile multi-use path that will connect Buffalo with Albany. Right now, the path is only available in discrete sections, the largest of which is a 90 mile section that stretches from Lockport to Palmyra.

As I hit the trail, it really started to dawn on me that I was on the last stages of the ride, back in the U.S. and nearly back to the real world. I was excited making good time on the path. It was a beautiful day. About 20 minutes onto the path, I could pick out about 200 yards in front of me the distinct profile of touring cyclist. A fully loaded touring bike is like the 18 wheeler in the world of bicycles.

I caught up with the solo cyclist and we started up a conversation. Meet Chris. Chris is from the Netherlands and is completing the last legs of his U.S. cycling tour. He started his ride in NYC, biked south to Miami, then west to San Francisco, then north to Seattle, and then west to Bar Harbor, Maine and back south to NYC again. When I met him, he had been on the road for nearly 10 months and had ridden over 9,000 miles. Pretty impressive. His reasons for the trip? I believe he’s here to try and understand the beast that is the United States.

We rode along the nearly deserted tow path and chatted for about 3 hours. Along the way he outlined his theory about the United States Environmental Tipping Point. “You Americans never do anything halfway once you get behind something,” he told me. We conveniently did not talk about Iraq. “Once Americans get behind environmentalism, then all of our environmental problems will be solved. It’s just a matter of time before it happens,” he told me. “Think about it. Think about the social capital your country wields and how much influence your dollar brings to bear on things. I, for one, am optimistic about America and the Environment.”

It’s an interesting point…one that I had never really thought about before. Imagine Americans embracing green the same way they embrace Bud Light or the Superbowl. Wouldn’t it have a more profound impact? Chris seems to think that it’s just a matter of time before this happens. Maybe so. Maybe so.

Chris’s ride, as he described it, takes on a very different vibe than mine. He told me that he basically rides one day and takes one day off, which explains why he’s been on the road for nearly 10 months. Also: he’s being underwritten by the company he works for…something that would definitely help with that style of ride.

One of our topics of conversation was beer. He started talking about how he wanted a Guinness. The more we talked about it, the more it sounded like a good idea. By 7 pm, we had ridden about 80 miles together. Chris suggested that we share a hotel room. Normally, I would have said no, but I had been on the road long enough to learn who to trust. We biked into Brockport, NY and went looking for a place to stay. Brockport, NY, has two motels. They have a Holiday Inn Express, and an Econolodge. We went to the Econolodge first. The Econolodge had no vacancies thanks to a soccer camp that was in town. This soccer camp was called Blizzard NY. I guess it was called Blizzard because teenage soccer players covered the town like a thick blanket of snow with acne. The situation at the Holiday Inn was the same.

We decided to take in the local Chinese buffet and then go from there. Chris is new to Chinese Buffets so I had to explain a few things to him. First of all, he was perplexed why, in a town so small, this Chinese restaurant would have seating for over 400 people and second, why the waitress kept coming back literally ever 5 minutes to refill our beverages.

I explained to him that the restaurant was probably pretty empty 6 days out of the week, but that if he came here around noon on a Sunday, it would be nearly completely full. “People bring their families here after church?” I told him yeah, Sunday is a day of rest, and what better day to honor your religion than to have a heathen non-believer fix your lunch for you.

He understood the quick refill with less effort. The more iced tea you drink, the fewer egg rolls you’re going to consume. During dinner we discussed what we were going to do and we agreed to try and find a place off of the tow path and set up camp. But first…Guinness!!

We had a few options in terms of bars in Brockport and I wanted to go to the one that was on the canal. Chris disagreed, his rationale was that we would probably find friendlier locals in the more divey place. I’ve got to say that his instincts were right on in his choice.

We park our bikes outside and proceed to enjoy a couple of beers. After the first, it seemed like a good idea to have a second. Chris and I were discussing the nature of negativity in an amusing way since things were completely lost in translation. I noticed a guy standing at the bar who was drinking something out of a mason jar. It looked refreshing and he was within reach so I tugged on his sleeve. What’s that, I asked and thus began the odyssey at Barber’s Bar.

Sitting next to the guy with the refreshing looking drink were a couple of ladies also drinking from mason jars. “Why that’s called a Wedge,” said one of them. “Yep,” said the guy “It’s made of grapefruit juice…” “It’s the official drink of Brockport,” said the same lady from the bar. “You need to have one.” “Yes,” said the guy, trying to complete his original thought, “It’s quite famous around here.” “Two wedges for my new friends,” said the lady at the bar and she came over and sat with us. And that’s when we met J, the nicest person in Brockport.

J has lived in Brockport her whole life. She spent the rest of her evening talking with Chris and me and being a one-woman booster for the town of Brockport. When she found out our lodging predicament, she decided to do something about it and made a call to her aunt, the former deputy mayor of Brockport. So…down next to the canal in Brockport is a nice mini marina where folks berth their boats. At this marina is a great little grassy spot, perfect for tents but probably not authorized for tents. J was on the phone for a few minutes and then came back to our table. “Come with me,” she said. “I need to take y’all over to the police department.”

“Um,” I said…

“Um,” said her friends…

“I want them to meet you so you they won’t hassle you when you set up your tents. My aunt said it shouldn’t be a problem.”

This was turning into a very complicated situation, much more complicated than if we had just found a spot on the canal to camp on. I wasn’t super happy about the plan. J’s friends weren’t too happy about it either.

“It you aren’t back with her in 5 minutes, I will kill you,” said one of her girlfriends.

“Um,” I said…but followed Chris and J out into the night anyway.

It turns out that the Brockport police station is right next door to the bar we were so we were gone only 7 minutes…long enough for her friends to come looking…something which I totally understand. If your friend left a bar with two total (and transient) strangers, you’d be concerned too. After we chatted with a patrol officer for a minute and they realized we weren’t crazed lunatics, Chris and I were given permission to camp next to the marina.

We went back to the bar and after a while J and her friends left. J was one of the coolest persons I met on my trip…at least she was the most trusting and genuine.

So the owner of the bar came out and bought Chris and I another round of Guinness. About that time, the bachelorette party rolled into the bar and the epic day continued. The game was something like “The Bride to Be Has to Do whatever the bridesmaids tell her to do” and there was a checklist. The Bride to Be (btb) was supposed to dance with a bald man, serenade a stranger, give her bra to a stranger, give a total stranger a lap dance, etc. Apparently, this is something that happens at bachelorette parties.

Anyway, Chris got the bra and I was serenaded. No lap dance…The bridesmaids were all carrying stickers and handing them out to various gentlemen in the bar. I got “best sense of humor” and “hottest buns” from the btb, and “nicest eyes” from one of her friends and “best overall” from the btb’s mom. It was strange but fun.

At about 2:30 we headed down to the marina to set up our tents. Yes, it was a late late night.

The next morning we both woke up around 6 and apparently neither of us was feeling the effects of the evening. We biked the following day together. Chris had purchased a book to help him identify birds and impressed me with his ability to point out the cardinal based only on it’s call.

We biked through the weirdness that is Rochester and I helped him get his new cel phone working. I took pictures of butterflies, rail trestles, and daschunds riding in bikes.

At Palmyra, Chris and I parted ways. I hope he’s doing well out there. I told him to give me a call when he gets back to NYC.

Day 41--on The Bruce

2007-07-18T12:32:00.000-07:00

Today, I'm stopping briefly in Wiarton, Ontario, which is located on the South Bruce Penninsula. Wharton is the home of Wiarton Willie, a white groundhog. He's the town mascot and lives outside the library. I hope to make it another 30 miles to Owen Sound.

Rode the Chi-Cheemaun Ferry yesterday (see below) from South Baymouth to Tobemory. I've spent two days on two of the most beautiful landmasses of the trip. Yesterday was Manitoulin Island and today is Bruce Penninsula. Both are absolutely amazing.

Rode 160 miles from Sault Ste Marie to Espanola on July 16 and 17.
70 miles from Espanola to South Baymouth yesterday.
50 miles so far today.

The weather is okay. Have had headwinds from the south since leaving Espanola.

Wind Powah!

2007-07-18T12:27:00.001-07:00

Today I passed a mini wind farm and I can't help but fantasize about owning one of these things. There's something really peaceful about the way they move. Mezmerizing even. Mezmerizing to the point where I was weaving into traffic. What I was actually transfixed by was a group of about 15 seagulls that seemed to be playing some sort of game involving the spinning blades of the turbine. They would fly between the blades circle around and do it again. Over and over and over again. It seemed playful and oh, so cool.

The giant hay bales are a plus, eh?

On The M.S. Chi-Cheemaun

2007-07-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

This here's the ferry I took from South Baymouth to the Bruce Penninsula. It was pretty windy on deck. I spent the 1 hour 45 minute crossing talking with Harley rider Steve from Wawa, Ontario. He couldn't get over this bicycle thing I'm doing. He's been riding for over 10 years and hasn't put as many miles on his hog as I have on my bike. Nice guy. I invited him to visit in NYC, but he doesn't think he's interested in visiting the U.S. Oh well.

A gull pacing the ferry. I wonder why?

Ah...that's why.

In the distance is Flowerpot Island. Looked cool in the brochures, but the glass-bottom boat tour was ooo too expensive. Canada in general is pretty dang pricey.

Lakes, Islands, Lakes on Islands, etc.

2007-07-18T12:17:00.000-07:00

Manitoulin is the largest freshwater lake in the world. It has its own lakes. On some of these lakes are islands and on some of these islands are ponds...

2007-07-18T12:16:00.000-07:00

This is the town of Little Current on Manitoulin. Cute, aint it?

Manitoulin Island Images from July 17

2007-07-18T12:09:00.000-07:00

This is the swing bridge you cross to get to Manitoulin. When I pulled up to the bridge it was swinging closed. I managed this shot. The bridge is one lane and appears to have originally been used for trains. You know the smell of rail ties (a mixture of turpentine and wood) on a hot day? Multiply it by a factor of ten on this bridge. Stifling but still neat.

This is the bridge I crossed from Sault Ste Marie, MI to Sault Ste Marie, Ontario

2007-07-16T12:49:00.001-07:00

A long bridge. A couple I met in a diner were surprised I made it across in one piece. There is no bike lane.

Lake Superior Shoreline

2007-07-16T12:47:00.003-07:00

The Kindness of Strangers

2007-07-16T12:44:00.000-07:00

I don't know who that bobble-head is on the left but pictured are the awesomely generous folk who housed me in Marquette, MI. Next to the bobble head is Angie, Gloria, Michael and...dang it, I can't remember her/his name. This family makes me want to visit Marquette again in the future, when I have more time to visit the place.

Entering Michigan...

2007-07-16T12:43:00.000-07:00

Highway 17 in Canada is D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S

2007-07-16T12:27:00.000-07:00

Today, I'm in Espanola, Ontario and boy, I've never been more happy to leave a particular stretch of road as Highway 17 in Canada. Since it's the only trans-Canadian highway running through this part of Canada, it gets all of the 18-wheeler traffic. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but most of Highway 17 from Sault Ste Marie to Espanola is 2 lanes. Worst of all, there's barely any paved shoulder...I mean barely any...and what shoulder there is drops off about 2 inches into soft gravel. Soft gravel is not something you want to ride into on a fully loaded bike. Lots of close calls yesterday and today, but both the bike and I made it through in one piece.

Tomorrow, I head for Manitoulin Island, what I hope to be a really really beautiful stretch of Lake Huron shoreline. I take a ferry from South Baymouth to Tobemoy and from there I'm heading for Niagra Falls. I should be in New York State by this Thursday. I think I'm a little ahead of schedule.

Here There Be Dragons, Eh?

2007-07-15T05:01:00.000-07:00

Today I leave the confines of the motherland and roll onto foreign soil. I'm in Sault Ste Marie, MI and I cross the bridge into Canada as soon as I finish my coffee here. No telling if I'll find coffee in Canada or if they'll just have SANKA so I'm drinking up, yes sir.

Saturday was a day off and I didn't really do anything other than nap and watch the Tour de France on the motel's cable. Yes, I stayed in a motel. That's what I do on my day's off. I also watched My Super Ex-Girlfriend with Uma and Owen. The only good thing about that film is Eddy Izzard. I just think he's a hoot.

The meaning of life has to wait, my friends, for I must get on the road (and my notebook got soaked in a rainstorm two days ago and it's still drying out). But I haven't done road stats in a while so I need to catch up with that...

July 5
East Grand Forks, MN to Bemidji
119.11 miles
Rear wheel failure.

July 6
Bemidji to Cass Lake
in the saddle: 2 hours
total: 33.95 miles
average: 15 miles per hour

I saw a trio of bald eagles fishing. Made me fall off of my bike. Really. Met Mike, the Ranger. He found me the perfect spot to camp at Norway Beach Campground. Didn't swim in Cass Lake because of warning signs about parasites in the water. Swimmer's itch.

July 7
Cass Lake to Warba
in the saddle: 4.36.49
total: 69.56 miles

1st pasties of the trip in Grand Rapids

July 8
Warba, MN to Superior, WI
in the saddle 6:01:45
total: 88.46

July 9
Superior to Ashland
in the saddle: 4:45:14
total: 70.62

July 10
Ashland to Bergland
in the saddle: 5:10:06
total: 80

July 11
Bergland to Marquette
in the saddle: 7:04.09
total: 117.24

July 12
Marquette to Munising
in the saddle: 3:24:18
total: 47.45

Friday, July 13th
Munising to Sault Ste Marie
in the saddle: 7:52:21 (longest day so far)
total: 123:79

Mathamagickery and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

2007-07-11T19:52:00.000-07:00

Howdies people. I'm in Marquette, Michigan, in the lovely home of Michael, Angie, and little Gloria--some folks I met back in Wisconsin at the strawberry patch. I biked from Bergland today (115 miles) with the wind at my back. It was a pretty good bike day. I left US Route 2 today for the first time since West Glacier. I want to do a longer entry on that particular piece of highway that I've lived with for so long. Will get to it tomorrow maybe? I decided to head to the northern part of the Yoop on the recommendation of Michael and Angie. It really is beautiful up here.

So...I did a little math last night and it looks like I've got (had...last night anyway) 1200 miles to go. If I keep up my 70 mile per day average, that will put me back in Brooklyn on Friday, July 27th. Yuppers (yuppers is some kind of WI/MI term I've heard from the Yoopers alot), I could be finishing up my ride a good 15 days sooner than I expected. I'll have a clearer picture of my timeline in about a week or two once I get into Canada. Canada always clears the head, or at least the Clearly Canadian soda I drank back in the day cleared my head, or maybe that was just a chemical illusion brought on by all of the sugar they put in Clearly Canadian. Hey, whatever happened to that stuff anyway?

This is the second thing I saw once I got into Wisconsin

2007-07-09T14:48:00.001-07:00

One of the first things I saw in Wisconsin

2007-07-09T14:47:00.001-07:00

At the beach in Duluth

2007-07-09T14:46:00.001-07:00

2007-07-09T14:44:00.001-07:00

Family gathering mit explosions and general mayhem. No one got hurt I think.

Warba, MN--At the American Legion Campground

2007-07-09T14:42:00.000-07:00

This is Shallow Lake. I had a lovely night swim here.

Ashland, Wisconsin

2007-07-09T14:03:00.000-07:00

Today I'm in Ashland, WI. Imagine the western end of Lake Superior as a giant sock puppet. If you could grow your right hand into an enormous right hand and slide it into the sock puppet in front of you, Ashland would be at the tip of the thumb, or at the tip of the lower lip of the sock puppet. Or you could just go to the link above and see for yourself. As far as I know it's still a free country so you can do what you want. Either way you won't be letting the terrorists win, that's for sure.

Okay...I'm a little grousy today because just before I found the City of Ashland's Library, I was passed by an emergency vehicle registered to Ashland County. On the back was the all-too familiar war cry 9/11 We Will Never Forget. Well thanks, County of Ashland, for doing your part. I feel all warm and fuzzy now. Actually, it made me want to pull up to the driver and quiz him/her as to exactly how much they remember about that beautiful sunny September Tuesday. Meh. Whatever.

Just before I saw the offending vehicle, I stopped at a U-pick-em strawberry patch and scored a quart of freshly picked strawberries. Oh but they were good. I ate the whole dang thing, then and there. Met some folks from Marquette, Michigan who invited me to get in touch with them when I pass through there in the next couple of days. They even hinted at offering me a place to stay. We'll see.

Did I mention that I'm trying to do a bluegrass arrangement of Love and Rockets "I'm Alive" in my head? It's really cool and has 4-part harmony. Perhaps when I get back to NYC, I can find some folk to play music with. I've been thinking that I could devote some more time to the banjer.

Also, I listened to Prairie Home Companion on the radio a couple of nights ago, when I was smack dab in the middle of what the town of Lake Wobegon is based on. It was very meta and very quaint, and I almost lost my dinner it was so quaint.

Next time I have a chance to actually write an entry, I'm going to share my thoughts on the meaning of life. Fer Realz.

Ruth at Pasties Plus

2007-07-07T11:55:00.000-07:00

I told myself that I would stop at the first Pasties shop I saw in Minnesota. Oh man...Ruth here in Grand Rapids, makes an excellent pastie. She's right off of Route 2 when you get into town and she's happy to see you. Oh man...that thing was good.

At the Big Fish Supper Club, Outside of Grand Rapids, MN

2007-07-07T11:54:00.000-07:00

I want to see more buildings like this.

In Bemidji, Minnesota

2007-07-07T11:53:00.001-07:00

East Grand Fork, 4th of July Celebration

2007-07-07T11:50:00.000-07:00

The Kid's Pedal Tractor Pull. Totally awesome!

Hello Minnesota

2007-07-07T11:45:00.000-07:00

I'm singing the Hello Minnesota song in this picuture. The tune is the same as the tune that hillbilly flea sings in probably the most disturbing Warner Brothers cartoon ever made...the one where the flea goes walking around on the dog's back. You see most everything from the flea's perspective and it's a weird landscape. The flea sings "food around the corner, food around the corner, food around the corner for me...etc."

Anyway, here are some of the words to Hello Minnesota

Hello Minnesota, Hello Minnesota

Pull tabs Minnesota

Drink beer in Minnesota

Eat pasties in Minnesota

Cheese in Minnesota

Shelly Winters Minnesota

Bigfoot Minnesota

Mosquito Minnesota

etc etc

Make up your own words...

Rugby, North Dakota...the Geographic Center of North America

2007-07-07T11:43:00.000-07:00

I stood at the geographic center of North America and I stuck my finger in my belly button, the geographic center of me. I half expected to levitate, but all I got out of it was some lint.

Beautiful Cars

2007-07-07T11:39:00.000-07:00

This was the most beautiful vehicle I had seen on my trip...A 61 Chevy Impala.

Then this guy showed up.

Stabbur

2007-07-07T11:37:00.000-07:00

A replica of a cottage from a farming town in Norway. I guess the goats graze the roof to keep it trim. This also in Minot.

What? Me Corny?

2007-07-07T11:34:00.000-07:00

Outside of Minot, ND about a week ago.

Wheel Failure, Flats, and the Fickle Finger of Fate

2007-07-06T11:49:00.000-07:00

So I haven't written about any of the mechanical difficulties I've had during this trip, because I've had relatively few...up until yesterday.

In Washington State, I had a flat tire on the second day of my ride. The next flat occurred in Sandpoint, Idaho. I was averaging 1 flat per state and figured I'd be okay if that average stayed the same.

Oh Montana, how I love your Rocky Mountains and grass plains, but I do not love your highway shoulders. Montana gifted me with 6 different flats. By the time I hit North Dakota, my tubes looked like your Granny's quilt.

In Minot, ND, I picked up a new rear tire...a Specialized Armadillo Nimbus...the same kind I rode around NYC for a year on with no problems. It's a little heavier than the tire I was riding on but I don't think I'll be having any more flat tire problems.

Flats are a part of the deal with long distance riding. This isn't why I've complained. You get a flat, you fix it. That's it. Yesterday, however, I suffered a more significant breakdown. I've never seen a wheel fail on a bike before, but during the last 5 miles of my ride into Bemidji, MN (the end of a 115 mile day) I noticed that my rear wheel was out of true. Upon closer inspection, I saw the reason why. the spokes were starting to pull away from the aluminum rim. Big 'ol cracks where appearing and things didn't look good. This wasn't a matter of just trueing the wheel, this was a matter of replacing the wheel entirely.

The next morning, the bike and I wobbled over to The Home Place Bike and Ski Shop on Paul Bunyan Drive and mechanic Jeff assessed the problem and 70 bucks later I have a new rear wheel..."Bomb Proof" said Jeff. Bomb proof...sounds nice, doesn't it? But that's exactly the way D at Sid's described the Mavics we put on my bike.

But again, this set back is minor in perspective. A fellow cyclist that I met in West Glacier two weeks ago died about a week ago when he lost control of his bike and went over a guardrail...and then there's Reverend Carol Cruise www.faithwalk.net. She's a right-leg amputee and is walking the perimeter of the United States. I met her briefly yesterday and despite our philosophical differences, dang if I don't admire her gumption.

Triple digits tomorrow. I'm trying to make Grand Rapids today. We'll see.

Not For All North Carolina...

2007-07-02T10:27:00.000-07:00

I've gone from ninja-ing myself with single songs, ninja-ing entire albums. During this morning's ride, I played 69 Love Songs (all three albums) in my head. When I got to the song "Reno, Dakota" I started singing it outloud for the Burlington Northern Linesmen who happen to be working on the tracks today. I don't think they heard me. Probably a good thing.

Also in rotation: Rain Dogs--Tom Waits, Flood--They Might Be Giants, The Game--Queen, and And Justice For All--Metallica, among others. It's actually kind of fun game to play with yourself...trying to remember all of the songs on a particular album.

In other news, here are biking stats since the 25th of June. I've been pretty slack about getting these up.

(Side note--Dumbass kids looking at girls they'll never go out with on Facebook should never give their elder the stinkeye b/c the sound of his typing is interfering with said dumbasses surfing. This particular elder might go Chuck Norris on him if he does it again. Yes, kids...I'm in a public library. Today it's in Devil's Lake, ND. Home of Jesus Camp.)

Anyway...stats:

Sunday, June 24th was a rest day in Havre, MT.

Monday, June 25th
Havre to Malta
In the saddle: 4:48:42
Distance: 93.06
Average speed: 19.3
Max: 32.3
Odo: 1184.7

15-20 mph tailwind today. Fantastic!!

Tuesday, June 26
Malta to Wolf Point
In the saddle: 6:36:02
Distance: 124.44!!!!!!!!!!
Average speed: 19.6
Max: 40.3
Odo: 1309.1

20 mph tailwinds. I doubt I'll ever have another day like today.

Wednesday, June 27
Wolf Point to Bainville (9 miles west of the MT/ND border)
In the saddle: 5:59:17
Distance: 71.87
Average speed: 12.0
Max: 24.0
Odo: 1381.0

Depressing Headwinds

Thursday, June 28, Day 18
Bainville, MT to Lund's Landing, ND
In the saddle: 5:21:24
Distance: 58.8
Average speed: 9.2
Max: 29.7
Odo: 1439.8

Seriously depressing headwinds.

Friday, June 29, Day 19
Lund's Landing to Stanley
In the saddle: 5:24:14
Distance: 52.32
Average speed: 9.6
Max: 21.7
Odo: 1492.1

Headwinds

Saturday, June 30
Stanley to Minot
In the saddle: 5:19:20
Distance: 56.35
Average speed: 10.9
Max: 23.5
Odo: 1551.5

Headwinds diminishing

Sunday, July 1
Minot to Leeds
In the saddle: 6:33:49
Distance: 97.10
Average speed: 14.7
Max: 23.6
Odo: 1648.6

Winds from the SE

Going to try and ride another 30 or 40 miles today. Depending on where I can find a place to stay tonight. Last night the bugs had a buffet.

New Terminus

2007-07-01T07:47:00.000-07:00

I've updated my total route to reflect a tentative endgame to the trip. I've decided to end the ride in Brooklyn, NY (probably at Coney Island) and will be spending the last two weeks riding from the NW corner of New York. Possible cities I'll be going through: Rochester, Ithaca (I hear it's gorges), maybe Syracuse, Albany, and then points south. If anyone has suggestions regarding my Niagra Falls to Brooklyn Route, let me know.

Headwind and the Angry Inch

2007-06-30T12:50:00.000-07:00

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?

One Stop Shopping

2007-06-28T10:13:00.000-07:00

This was in .... not sure. Will get back.

Chop! The Dakota Border

2007-06-28T10:11:00.000-07:00

Dude. I'm getting my hair cut today.

Horses on a Hill, Cattle on a Hill

2007-06-28T10:10:00.000-07:00

Whorl

2007-06-28T10:09:00.001-07:00

Hoofed Menage

2007-06-28T10:08:00.001-07:00

Took this picture riding into Glasgow, MT yesterday. How many different kinds of hoofed animals can you count?

Dakota!

2007-06-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

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.

More Pictures

2007-06-26T12:02:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-26T11:55:00.000-07:00

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.

Dispatch #8, Doc's #1 Formula and Did You Know Montana Has Seagulls?

2007-06-24T13:57:00.000-07:00

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.

Dispatch #7: Ease On Down The Road

2007-06-20T13:07:00.001-07:00

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!

who's my favorite dog in the world?

2007-06-18T10:43:00.001-07:00

It looks as though Coltrane is in good hands.

Dispatch #7: Next Stop, The Rockies

2007-06-18T09:48:00.000-07:00

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.

Dispatch #6, I'm fonda Wauconda

2007-06-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

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.

Dispatch #4 Addendum, Photos!

2007-06-14T16:07:00.001-07:00

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

2007-06-14T15:35:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-14T15:31:00.000-07:00

...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.

Dispatch #4: Stawberry Lemonade Gatorade + Ritz + Jiff = Toxic Coctail

2007-06-13T13:10:00.000-07:00

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!

Sort of Family Portrait

2007-06-10T11:33:00.000-07:00

Chris, Maureen, and Nicholas at The Dock

Shakedown: Day 0

2007-06-10T08:09:00.000-07:00

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!

Everything But The Kitchen Sink

2007-06-09T21:34:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-09T09:12:00.000-07:00

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.

Subtext Anniversary Reading

2007-06-08T17:30:00.000-07:00

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)

2007-06-08T09:42:00.000-07:00

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.

Red Hook Vendors Pressed to Get New Permit

2007-06-07T20:53:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-07T10:32:00.000-07:00

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.

Some More Seattle Images

2007-06-07T09:33:00.001-07:00

Here are a few more images I've taken over the past week or so.

The Bike

2007-06-07T09:12:00.000-07:00

Here are some close-ups of my new cross-continental conveyance.

Ze whole ting, mit fore and aft cargo racks. The frame is made by Surly and is called The Long Haul Trucker. 54 cm.

Shimano SPD Clipless pedals and Shimano 105 3-ring crankset

Shimano Deore 11-34 megarange cassette, Deore LX rear Derailleur

Jannd Extreme Front Rack, Planet Bike Fenders, Mavic Crossride wheel, Serfas Barista City Tire
Axiom Odyssee Tubular Alloy Rear Rack

The Cockpit: Planet Bike Lite, bell, Cat Eye Microwireless Computer, and Shimano Dura Ace bar-end shifters.

Arrival

2007-06-05T13:55:00.000-07:00

Maybe the delay was due to the JFK fuel depot "terrorist" scare or maybe it's because of Paris Hilton going to jail...all I know is that it took 11 days for the new bike to be shipped from NYC to Seattle. In any case, it's here and I'll be picking it up tomorrow morning--at which time I'll share more photos--of both the bike and of all the equipment I'll be carrying with me. So...Hooray! Now that the bike is here, I'll be able to take it on a few shakedown rides before leaving this weekend. I'm a little anxious--you don't normally switch ponies before the big steeple chase--about getting used to the new set up. The adage "It's just like riding a bike" does not apply in this situation.

Tonight, I'm playing poker with Chris and some of his buddies. It sounds like it's something he does on a regular basis with a regular group of people, so I don't know exactly what I'll be getting into. He says it's small stakes (a $10 buy-in) so it ought to be a relaxed friendly game. A full report will follow.

Oh...and an elaboration on my statement "Chris acted honorably, I did not." from my last post. The Blue Moon Bar, where we spent the last part of the evening, is festooned with a large decorative library of technical manuals, out-of-date encyclopedia sets, etc. I walked out of the bar at the end of the evening with a copy of The New Comb Honey Book by Dr. Richard Taylor. It's a how-to bee keeping book that caught my attention and I was so enamoured of it, that I just walked out the door with it. Tonight, I plan on returning the pilfered paperback to its proper owners.

I Have the Hiccups

2007-06-02T02:07:00.000-07:00

It is June the 2nd and I am still bereft of a bicycle. No matter, I have a much more interesting situation. Said sitch is 13 pounds and 100% pure joy.

Chris and I took the evening and shattered the peace at a number of pubs. Let it be known that Chris conducted himself with honor. I cannot say the same for myself.

It is late in the evening and I must soon to lay my head to rest. A Friday night in Seattle is, after all, a friday night in Seattle.

T-minus 8 days until my departure...hopefully.