Everytime I try to quit...

Something happens to pull me back in. Bike and Build has a surprisingly lot in common with heroin addiction: it will give you scars and withdrawl can kill. Maybe this blog shouldn't be connected to my profile on the Bike and Build website? Ehh.

If my subtlty hasn't clued you in yet, it is very likely that I will be having at least one more Bike and Build adventure. I'm really excited. As things stand, I'm poised to begin the interviewing process for a leadership position. Who knows if I'll get it, but I have to admit that I'm enthusiastic and hopeful. A lot of my friends have told me how different it is to lead a trip, but I'm not particularly daunted by the task. It feels like the right progression, to be honest, and the perfect opportunity to try and give something of myself to an organization that has given me so much over the last two years.

My top picks for routes right now are, in order, P2SF, CUS, NC2SD, NUS, and SUS. Maybe B2SB is somewhere in there. Honestly, I think all of the routes are great, but I'm a little scared of the idea of logisticizing (yeah that's right, I made up a word... so did Willy Shakespeare) a route as new as SC2SC. I'm really excited to see so many alums from 08 return this summer to ride; I'm sure there are a ton from 09 that came back as well, but I don't know 'em. In particular, one of my leaders, Joe, is registered as a rider for NC2SD. Freaking sweet.

I decided that this decision was worthy of resurrecting Country to Concrete, and should I get the position I'll be using the blog to chronicle my experiences of the trip part deux, with leadership action! Life is good, ladies and gents, life is good!

Peace Out Hombres,

Mark

Somewhere in the heart of the Aftermath

Well, bike trip's done but the adventure of course continues. I'm checking in from the beautiful city of Berkeley, California, loafing around the apartment of some friends before heading out to a bike shop. Really missed that, loafing, I mean. After a month of insane activity, laziness is truly sweet. But anyway, a bit of a recap.

Life's moved pretty fast since my last posting; my bike trip's ended in the San Francisco Bay Area, a little prematurely but certainly merited. Faced with the option of biking alone or having a vacation on my own terms, I chose the vacation. I have not been disappointed. I think, of all the places that I've seen and visited on the west coast, San Francisco is my favorite. Lots to do and see, and lots of amazing bike rides to go on. Just yesterday I took a leisurely and scenic ride through the Berkeley Hills and up Grizzly Peak. Don't let the semantics fool you, it wasn't a bad climb at all!

So here's the game plan as it stands. I'll be staying in Berkeley for a few more days, headed back into San Francisco for their Pride weekend. I've decided to take a meandering route back to Virginia, opting to take Amtrak's Zephyr train from Oakland to Chicago. I'll be arriving at Union Station on the 3rd of July, where I'll be picked up by friends and then we'll roadtrip back to Virginia. Slowly, I think. If all goes as planned, we'll be spending the 4th in St. Louis, enjoying a free show and free lodgings with a friend. I should return home by either the fifth or sixth of July, bike box and panniers in hand.

In other news, I got a job! Or rather, a paid internship that will end in my full-time employment. Inner Quest, a renowned Outdoor Experiential Education company in the D.C. metropolitan area has offered me a position in their apprenticeship program. From late August to early November I will receive valuable training and work experience as an outdoor instructor. Following that, I'll decide whether I want to continue working with Inner Quest, or take a position elsewhere with a company like NOLS or Outward Bound. So, my life is turning out pretty nicely at present. I'll have a little time in July and early August to get a jo-schmo job to pay bills, and more importantly to join a cycling club and do a little volunteering. Life is good.

Too Many Cyclists

I've always been irked...well, I've been irked for as long as I've ridden my bike for what others would consider an insane amount of miles, that motorcylists are called "bikers" as well. Because it makes for a lot of confusion. For example, hearing that there is a "bike shop" in a town where you sorely need one, only to find that it is a shop catering to the motorized variety. And not to get my chamois in a bunch, or be that "uptight, asshole in spandex", but WE WERE HERE FIRST! There were bikes well before we stuck motors on them, we deserve that name.

But anyway, fear not, there is a reason and a purpose behind this anti-chopper rant. Presently, I'm sitting in Garberville, CA. A sleepy little town that has been positively over-run by oldsters bedecked in black leather and their chubby wives. Apparantly there's some sort of harley event a few miles south of here. Now, normally I bear motorcyclists no ill will. I get it. Motorcyles are cool, and so are leather jackets. Own on myself. But the novelty has worn off. In fact, it wore off back in the Avenue of Giants when the millionth thirty biker chain gang passed us and honked at us. Sort of soured me on the experience.

Ohh, but let's take a pleasant turn on this post, now that I've said my piece on bikers. We're in California now! It's a pretty rad state, with lots of redwood trees and quite a few mountains and like a bajillion more people than WA and Oregon had. And it's been relatively sunny here as well! That's always a plus. Tomorrow we climb the legendary Legget Hill, the highest point on the Pacific Coast Bicycle Route. Apparantly it's a killer. It's only a 1000 foot climb. Only... Well, we can do it, but it'll probably be a bit tough with the gear we're hauling.

I've taken about a million pictures, and by that I mean almost four hundred. Which is a bit scary, since I only have memory enough for five hundo. California's a big state, and the scenery is going to do a good deal of changing from now until SoCal and San Diego. I'll make the camera thing work, for sure. But I have a feeling the photo album is going to be a bit weighted in the Northwest's favor, just because I got a bit trigger happy with all of the really gnarly cliffs and stuff.

Be sending us your good thoughts and I'll be sending postcards!

Peace and Bike Grease, Hombres!

Mark

PS When I get back I totally want to sit down and just watch a movie in a theatre. Anyone want to see Terminator Judgment in July, if it's still out in theatres? Hit me up, biotchhhhhh!

Greetings from Oregon!

So, after a long absence I have brushed off Country to Concrete to keep as many people updated about my unassisted tour from Vancouver, B.C. to San Diego, obviously California. We're in the lovely little town of Tilamook, OR right now. Home of Tilamook Creameries and Cheese. Which means pretty much nothing to you East Coasters, but over here Tilamook has a stranglehold on the dairy market. And rightly so; their cheese is delicious. But anyway, what to report...? The weather has been pretty much spectacular this entire trip; it "rained" on us for one day in Washington. Quotations because it was more of a sprinkling than anything else.

That said, the trip has had its ups and downs, mostly stemming from FedEx Canada screwing me over and trying to deal with that on the road. It's been hard, but I think it's been a learning experience and will only serve to sweeten the effect of this whole experience. Suffice it to say, the only thing I ever plan on shipping via FedEx Canada from the U.S. would be a rabbid tiger to attack as many of the CEO's of said shipping company as possible. Yeah, wicked bitter. But anyway, the ride has been spectacular in terms of scenery and both Katharine and I really love the Oregon Coast. It's totally better than Washington's, although I think that state will always have a special place in my heart as well. Cannon Beach was spectacular; I am super jealous of CUS trips (that's the central u.s. bike and build route, btw) which ends in Cannon Beach. It's definitely a cooler destination than the Puget Sound. Mostly because it's actually the Pacific Ocean.

The last thing I'll say about Cannon Beach before I move on to other things is that if you need a mental picture of a point of reference, Cannon Beach is the place where the final scene of The Goonies was filmed. You know, the big rock where the pirate ship comes out? Yeah, totally was there 24 hours ago. But you probably already google imaged "Cannon Beach", right? Of course you did. So, after my internet is timed out we're headed out towards the Three Capes Scenic Route, which takes us past more spectacular scenery, and I'm also very excited to say that we'll be camping with some Kiwis (that's New Zealanders) who we met in Tilamook briefly.

Scenery aside, the other highlights of the trip have been the people we've met touring the West Coast by bike, just like us. While we were in Washington we camped a few times with a pair of Montrealans (I have no idea if that's the propper word but the spell check on this blog didn't correct me, so I guess it must be). They were pretty friendly, but not nearly as chatty as I would've liked. Perhaps we'll see them again and we can eek more info out of them. We also met a girl who is biking down to Las Angeles. Alone. With platform pedals in converses. And she says that biking isn't really her thing. What?! I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that she survives. Last night we camped with a really rad dood named Dave, who is from LA and is biking down there right now to raise money for a trust fund. His tour was impromptly planned (the best kind in my opinion) and he needs to get down to LA before the 22nd of June or he'll lose his job. His days have ranged around 80 miles a day and in this terrain it's really impressive that he's moving that fast. Even more impressive, or perhaps worisome, is that he's carrying panniers on an aluminum bicycle with carbon seat stays and a carbon fork. Essentially, he's carrying a fair amount of weight on a bike that's meant to carry just a rider, and made of a material that is prone to litterally shattering if too much weight is put on it.

It's highly unlikely that we'll see Dave again, since we're moving at a much more leisurely pace than him, but I've gotten his e-mail and I'm excited to do a little networking with riding buddies on the West Coast. He seems the sort of eccentric guy who would welcome an off the cuff visit at any time AND he knows all these great places to ride in the LA area. Good tidings it would seem!

Okay, I think that's all that I have to report. I shall try to mind this blog a little better as we finish up Oregon and head to California. Until then,
Peace Out Hombres!

Bodies Braking, Bikes Breaking, Earth Shaking

Today was not my day. I really think that Murphy guy must've been onto something when he said that "If something can go wrong, it will". Today has been a model example of Murphy's Law. I'll preface this story by saying that this post will not be particularly cheery, although I'll be trying to counterpoint most of the negatives with a positive.

We'll start with a positive and follow it with the first of the negatives of the week/day. So on Sunday I biked up Reddish Knob again, this time with a few riders I didn't know too well. It was beautiful and difficult, as Reddish tends to be. I started up front, but as usual fell back during the climb. It was a slow plod, but it was perfect. My knee started hurting a bit around mile six of the climb, but more on that later. Suffice it to say, the ride ended in the best way possible: at an all you can eat buffet. I'll just come out and say it... EVERY SINGLE LONG BIKE RIDE SHOULD END AT A BUFFET. Totally perfect afternoon/evening. But onto the crux of this post, the sad-clown stuff.

So, to begin, I'm currently injured. Sometime during or shortly after Shamrock, I developed Patellar Tendonitis and Runner's Knee. Not particularly serious injuries, but irritating. My right knee hurts quite a bit and gets fairly stiff when I do any significant exercise. Running is the worst for it, but even when I cycle it gets a bit sore. Anyway, I wasn't certain what was wrong with it until yesterday's ortho appointment. I was relieved to hear that it wouldn't incapacitate me, and that I could continue exercising as long as I used a brace, took a prescription anti-inflamatory, and perform some stretching exercises to strengthen supporting muscles and relieve inflamation. I did my first run in two weeks, four or five miles, yesterday. It was phenomenal. Slow, but phenomenal. I don't intend to go so long without running ever again. Not running was torture. Sadly, I might have to go without biking for a little bit.

Today started off pleasantly enough. It was a balmy forty something, probably closer to fifty in the sunshine, this morning. Hardly a cloud in the sky, and no wind. Perfect riding weather in my opinion. When I got to my instructor's house, there was hardly anyone there. Apparantly Tim is at a conference somewhere and just asked us to ride on our own, to keep in shape. I was a bit disappointed, because I'd wanted to talk with him about the pros and cons of touring with paniers versus hitching a trailer on back. Ohh yeah. So I bought my ticket to Vancouver last night! C2M is on, baby! But anyway; not having Tim there meant making up our own route, which was something most of us were uncomfortable doing, so I led.

That was all well and good, until we went over like four sets of train tracks. Didn't beef or anything, but the bike got really jostled. Somewhere down the line, my chain jumped and for some reason it jumped at a very severe angle. Maybe I was cross chaining when the chain dropped, but in any case, it got jammed. Bad. Like beyond my ability to fix on the road. Essentially, the chain is jammed between my smallest chainring and my right seat stay. It's twisted and bent, and I'm pretty sure it's dead. At least nothing's wrong with the frame. In either case, Jonas has been locked up on a ligh post downtown. With the way things are going, I'm really worried that he's gonna get stolen or something. Even though he basically can't even be wheeled away, and certainly not ridden away, because of the chain.

Hopefully a bike shop can perform some much needed surgery, and it won't cost too much!

Peace out, Hombres!

Sham Rock On!

I have a shoe attatched to one of my bike pedals right now. I have a special pair of shoes that does that, and it all works very nicely when I am also attached to my shoes. Clipless pedal systems are great for power transfer and efficiency, not so great when they won't clip out. Which is precisely what happened this morning when I tried to get off my bike after riding to class. In retrospect, I had been having trouble clipping out on my right for a while; I fell at the top of Port Republic on Friday. It was pretty funny. Having to take off my shoe and leave it on the bike when I locked it up was not such a side-splitter though. I'm glad that road cycling tomorrow is in the shop, so I can have Tim show me how to fix it. Anyway, this past weekend was a fairly eventful one, both in terms of fitness and also in general good times.

The Shamrock Half was on Sunday, and it was everything that I'd hoped it would be. Jared and I headed out for a full blown race weekend experience on Friday afternoon. Prior to heading out at 4:30, Chris and I hit the road for a thirty mile ride; it began fairly chilly, just barely fifty degrees. Still, after a little sprint through campus the only things that were feeling the cold were our fingertips and ears. It was gorgeous out, with little less than a light headwind to slow us down. The route took us through the town of Dayton, down Dry River Road, and finally back to Harrisonburg via Route 33. The ride was very organic, with no planning at all; we just rode. Serendipitously, Sacha appeared in our parking lot and accompanied us to a post-ride carbo load at Vietopia. It was heaven.

The drive down to the coast with Jared had very few bumps, aside from one missed exit and a little backtracking we ended up at Cliff's house essentially on time. We were greeted at the door by my fairly inebriated friend and led to the kitchen table, three more drunken faces, and several bottles of wine. I think Jared was a little taken aback by the ease in which we were treated like part of the family, but it took all of two seconds before we were both grinning ear to ear. It was definitely a portent of the good times that were to come over the next seventy-twoish hours. We polished off a few glasses and got acquainted before the oldsters got to bed and we headed out the door to give Jared his first taste of gay nightlife.

I'd built up the first encouter probably a little bit too much for Jared prior to getting there. He's a pretty churchy guy, definitely conservative, but I think he figured out that I wasn't going to take "no" for an answer and agreed to a night out on the town. It's good, because we would've dragged him out kicking and screaming if he'd said no. Anyway, Virginia Beach doesn't have much of a gay scene. We hit two bars, one of which was exceedingly sketchy and whose name escapes me. I'll just call it "The Manhole" for fun. The other was much more congenial and had a very fun atmosphere, and was called "The Rainbow Cactus".

For one reason or another, both bars had Western themes. The Manhole was definitely more of a bar, with a crumby little dancing stage with a few erratic go-go types. One was most certainly a drag queen minus the drag, the other seemed to have an affinity for flailing around and calling that dancing. Probably a meth queen. Of course, no seedy gay bar is complete without a quiet, sixty year old man staring out from a dimly lit corner. It was absolute heaven! We had a few drinks and waxed philosophic (read: judged everyone who walked in the door) while I did my best to break Jared out of his stupor. But for one or two instances of two men dancing together, we could have been at any crappy bar. Not the case with "The Rainbow Cactus".

Following a brief sojurn out to CVS to get some cash, as well as my brief stint in public urination (still haven't been arrested whooooooo!), we made our way to bar #2. Definitely had a good feel to it, many more young people there, most of them infinitely more attractive than the patrons at the previous establishment. Ohhh. And there were drag queens. I'm not exactly a patron of drag, but damn if that wasn't a really good show. I'm probably just biased though, because the second song out on the dance floor was "Single Ladies". Coupled with my slight buzz...let's just say "Dance Machine" doesn't even do it justice. A few other highlights from the night include the group of senior citizens sitting squarely next to the dance floor, and mine and Cliff's subsequent rescue of two drunken old ladies who fell out of their seats. Sadly, Jared never joined us on the dance floor. Epic fail. Ohh well, baby steps right?

Woke up the latest of the bunch at 9:30 on Saturday morning with a slight headache and got to fumble with a strangely complicated shower. Once in a blue moon I find a shower aparatus that stumps me for a good two or three minutes, generally ending with my near scalding/hypothermia. Afterwards it was gravy. Jared, who had never been to Virginia Beach, and I decided to head out to the beach and take in some sights, as well as picking up our packets from the convention center. Afterwards, we took something like a three hour lunch at a nifty hole in the wall bar with one cook. The jury's still out on the clam chowder. Of course, the crowning achievement of the day was the twenty five mile bike tour of the city and surrounding suburbs, hitting various historical landmarks from Cliff's life and childhood. We got lost a bit, and ended up doing some pretty hairy urban riding, but all in all definitely an adventure. Tied for best part of the ride was the sweet national park we rode through, or the extremely bitchy woman we met outside the food lion. Or the fact that all twenty five miles were completed on a shiny red cruiser with a forty pound frame.

Our day ended like all good days should end, with good food and good drink and an open fire. I slept like a rock, which was good since we had to be up at 5:00 AM the next morning for the half. Surprisingly, I woke up the spryest of the young guys, with Jared moaning about how he had to do this all the time student teaching (and yet still had trouble doing it), and Cliff taking his sweet time as usual crawling out of bed. I downed some fruit, granola, and oatmeal with brown sugar before pinning on my bib and hopping out into the cold air. A short ride to the boardwalk, and we scattered off to our different corrals. Ohh, so a short explanation of the race.

Runners are seperated into corrals, which really are exactly like you'd think: holding pens for all of us until the race starts. There are five corrals in total, segregated by our estimated race time. I was the only one in the first corral, with a race time of around 1 hour 45 minutes. Jared was in the second, Cliff and his dad Rex were in the fifth. Since most of our group had already scattered, Cliff, Jared, and I agreed upon a rendevouz point and headed off to the start.

My corral was populated by all the elite runners. Most of them were tricked out in full marathon regalia like belts and ironman jerseys and such. I began feeling a little out of my depth, but excited. The air practically buzzed. There really is nothing like the exhale before the start of a race. I soon saw that I really did belong in the front after a few miles had gone by and I realized that I wasn't breathing anything like the other runners around me. In fact, I never really went beyond a little deep breathing for the entire race. The course was absolutely beautiful, beginning in the city and taking us through a pine forest and eventually rouding into Fort Story and putting us abreast the coast. As usual, the last few miles of the race really seemed to crawl. To call them exceptionally difficult wouldn't have been true. I hurt a bit, sure, but I distinctly remembered hurting more from much shorter runs in the past. I could tell that I had trained correctly for the race. I ended strong near the front of the pack, well in front of everyone else in our group.

Jared finished about twelve minutes after me, with Rex pulling a surprising 2 hour finish time. Cliff rounded it off at 2 hours fifteen, impressive considering he'd never done more than eight miles and hadn't run for almost a month. After we collected ourselves at the beach, we headed into the tent for some food, and of course, beer. A lot of strangers gave us their beer tickets, so I ended up downing eight pints or so before we left the beach. Drinking after a long run is a funny thing; with your blood volume so low afterwards, a few drinks can be all it takes to bring you down. Let's just say I was pretty happy when I poured myself into the car afterwards. We ended up at an authentic Irish bar for one last drink, before heading back to the Hamaker's for one last small gathering. Food was epic, company was epic.

I'd like to close off an incredibly long, and probably quite dull, post with a declaration of thanks for our hosts. Thanks Rex and Lisa for letting us into your home and feeding us and entertaining us, and most of all for making us feel like family. I will most certainly be taking you up on your offer of a return visit sometime in the future. As for you Cliff, I can't fit enough "thank you'"s on this blog, but trust and believe, I'll be returning the favor.

Peace out, Hombres!

Some Housekeeping

The day is fast approaching when I get to see just how out of riding shape I and my bike are. Today I had my first day of Road Cycling; the class was consigned to a quick run down of the syllabus, a questions sesh, and a brief meet and greet. Pretty standard. The class is big, considerably bigger than mountain biking, with about twenty people in attendance. I'm looking forward to some group riding, and the inevitable mishaps that occur because of them. Hopefully there's no gnarly road rash in any of our futures, or worse. I have to admit that I spent the start of the class sizing everyone up and comparing myself to them. It's hard to gauge everyone's ability or experience, but I sincerely doubt I'll be the fastest person. I hope I'm not, anyway. The men are all powerfully built, athletic looking sorts, so assuming they're on actual roadbikes and not mountain or hybrids, they'll all probably be good contenders. A few of the women seem to have some significant experience, or at least the right equipment. It'll be nice not being the only one in span and chams. We all love to dress the part, but techy clothing does not a good cyclist make, afterall.

My legs have been bothering me a bit recently. I suspect that running on the beach did that, although I couldn't say for sure. In either case, they haven't hindered my running much but I worry about whether they'll be able to crank out the watts in a pinch. My bike's as big a problem. I've been meaning to give it some love for a long time now, what with the rear hub rattling in protest everytime I take it out. The chain also likes to scream at me every so often, and doubtless the crank and casette should've been replaced about a thousand miles ago. If my bike were my boyfriend, I'd definitely get in some serious trouble for domestic abuse or neglect. It's with a blend of reverence, apathy, and lack of free time and money that I've rationalized not taking the bike to a shop.

I really can't believe I'm still riding Jonas at all; I feel like I should have him bronzed and hung up on a wall. A loving caption beneath reading, "The Bike I Conquered The Country On", or something to that effect. He's a year old, maybe, and he has six thousand miles on him. Six thousand... God. More than some-many-people will bike in their lifetime, more than some people have traveled, by car even. And it's funny; some people, a lot of people, will think that this makes me a good cyclist. Maybe I am. All I know is that I love it, a lot. The fact is, I'll probably get dropped by guys and girls who've ridden a fraction as much. And I cannot wait; good things on the horizon, not the least of which is Shamrock Half on Sunday.

We're heading out towards VA Beach first thing...well, as soon as Jared gets out of school and gets back to Harrisonburg. From there, it's just a few measley hours 'till we're on the coast and heading towards what I'm told is the crappiest gay bar in the world. I'm looking forward to judging it against what are considered good ones. I've never really warmed to the experience, since I am a terrible dancer and have on at least one ocassion been kicked out of a bar. A word of caution to any of you reading: don't dance with a drag queen when she's putting on a show. They don't like it. That said, it's fun to make out with the ocassional stranger that you usually can't see very well while you're trying not to step on him. It's also going to be really fun putting Jared into that environment. I've let him know that he's going, like it or not.

Ohh yeah, and the running should prove to be lots of fun as well. If I were to make a guess as to what the ranking will be... Jared will beat me by virtue of his longer stride, I will beat Cliff by virtue of my better fitness, and Cliff will maybe not even finish by virtue of the fact that he hasn't trained propperly. In any case, we're going to eat really well. Hopefully Jackie will also join us for the evening, and we can spend the remainder of our Sunday cheering her and Zach on. And getting wasted. I love it when your blood volume is so low that you're slammed after a few beers.

Well, there you go. Life is good and the cotton is high, baby. Now all I've gotta do is make it to graduation. Peace out, hombres!

Mid-Atlantic Climate is Stupid

Still cold here, sadly. I have to admit one of the reasons I'm looking forward to getting out of Virginia is that I really, really don't like its climate in the winter. And yes, anyone from the Northeast will remind me that winters are in fact very mild here. I'm aware. Despite this fact, I cannot stand the fickleness of the weather during the months of February and March. Temperatures like to ricochet between 15 and 70 degrees, usually with only a day between those two extremes. And that's all well and good, but I am frail. I get sick a lot, and alternating temperature extremes do nothing to help me in that fact. Plus, it's just such a tease. If winter could kindly stay winter and spring could stay springy, I'd be really happy. Besides that, I think I'm just over seasons in general. I'll take the eternal summer/springtime of California, please!

That rant aside, a fair amount of developments since January's post. I've gone and gotten myself employed after graduation. Well, the word employed should have quotation marks around it; I wouldn't go so far as to call it a career. I've been hired to lead an adventure trip in the pacific northwest with a few other outdoor enthusiasts. We're hitting British Columbia, Washington, and Oregon over the course of five weeks. We'll be doing a number of different activities, kayaaking and mountain biking and lots of backpacking among them, and I'll be getting two thousand dollars. I also think the experience will serve me well for a future in the outdoor adventure industry. More importantly, the job begins fairly late in the summer and allows me time to complete my Canada to Mexico tour with Katharine. In my opinion, it's the best of both worlds.

Besides that five week stint, I'm looking into an apprenticeship with a company based in Virginia that would greatly increase my job marketability in the outdoor rec industry. It's a pretty sweet gig, and would occupy me from the end of my August job until mid November. The major failing is that it would place me back in Virginia, the very state I am doing my best to escape. It's not that I have a serious hatred for VA, but I feel as though I need to stretch my legs in some new scenery. The fact remains, there are better places to break into the outdoor industry. I'm fairly certain that those will be the jobs I'm pursuing for at least a few years after graduation. But who knows?

That said, with the excitement of the future, the present has somewhat been reduced to a holding station until graduation. Wintertime as usual has curtailed my cycling, and training in general, considerably. Those few freakishly warm days were spent on the back of a bicycle, and there have of course been plenty of hours logged in on the yellow stationaries in UREC. I've been intermittently devoting myself to running, as I have a half marathon coming up later in March. It's been hard, however; constant running is taxing on the body and the mind, and I really enjoy running! We won't even talk about swimming...let's just say I probably won't drown. Probably.

By 8:30 tonight, I will have completed my outdoor ed course. We culminated the whole experience last weekend with a three day, two night backpacking and backcountry camping trip. I found the experience much like I find every little forray into the wilderness: cathartic, relaxing, educational. I loved every second of it, even while I was huddled in my zero degree sleeping bag in the snow. I'm convinced that every person alive, no matter how sheltered or cosmopolitan, should spend a few days out in the woods. Nothing will help you better to make sense of the chaos of your everyday life, or help you realize how trivial the majority of your problems are. Nothing makes the creaure comforts sweeter, either. I learned so much about myself and others, and I am a little sad to see the experience over with. But the end is the beginning is the end, you know?

I'll be finishing up the second half of the semester in Road Cycling. A number of friends I made during Mountain Biking last semester will be taking the road course, many of them rank novices in the sport. I'm really looking forward to the inevitable falls from clipless pedal failure, and of course fine tuning my routes in the valley. I'm also curious to see if there's anything in regards to repair and technique that I can pick up during those eight weeks. In either case, it will be an extremely good time, and exactly the way that I'd like to leave my college experience behind.

Thanks everyone, for reading! I'm not sure when the next big moment in my life will come around. For certain, you can expect some poorly shot photos of the northwest coastline to get up here sometime, either when I start my job or during the Canada to Mexico trip. Summer 2009 will be one to remember, of that I'm quite certain!

Cheers, and Peace Out Hombres,

Mark

CWM and Beyond!

So, the first class of my last semester is set to begin in about thirty minutes. I'll try to fit everything possible that needs to be here, I'm way past due for an update! To begin, the Chris Webber Memorial Ride. Epic, amazing. In every way it is a bike and build trip, only it's nicely compacted into a week rather than eight or nine. We rode from Orlando to Ft. Lauderdale, had amazing weather the entire time, and had a blast every single night. Despite the brevity of the ride, I have to admit that the emotional impact of the trip was equal to P2S. I added another twenty nine brothers and sisters to my already large bike and build family, and finally got to meet the Webber family. It was a moving event, to say the least, and I fully intend on continuing to do the ride year after year for as long as I can.

I got in a few shortish runs (four or five miles) during the ride. Admittedly, it was hard getting used to the humidity and heat after running in the winter; the fact that I had ridden about seventy miles on my bike earlier those days also probably had an effect. I don't think that I drank enough, and I didn't bring water with me on the runs. But they were all succesful with no bonking, although I did get lost while we were staying in Cocoa. My navigational skills have always been lacking. My runs got a bit curtailed by the end of the trip since, in true Mark fashion, I got sick. I'm still sort of getting over that infection, whatever it was. I consider myself lucky since one of the fellows on the ride, Travis, contracted bacterial pneumonia on the second day. He handle it a lot better than I would have, certainly.

So I left Florida very much in better spirits than I had entered into it. Bike touring, I'm convinced, is good for the soul; my soul, at least, loves it. Or perhaps it's just bike and build? Whatever the case, though I still had a fever and a cough, I came back to Virginia grinning and that grin really hasn't left my face since. I've ridden my feel good high into a new chapter in my life as well, because in only a few short months I will be GRADUATING! I've never been so excited and despite the state of the economy I'm not at all scared. I've got a new lease on life, because I'm doing another tour this summer!

Katharine had approached me some time ago about making a trip down the west coast. Specifically, she wanted to ride from British Columbia to Mexico. Sounds crazy? Nah, we're old pros at this point. It sort of developed from there, and she's written up a tentative itenerary from Victoria to San Fran, where the two of us will probably be stopping for a while to take a wilderness EMT training course in Yosemite. But there's a little not so secret secret about this tour. It's not just a "for fun" bike ride. Nope, get ready boys and girls because it's Big Reveal time. Drumroll... I probably will end up staying there when we're done! Yeah, I'm moving out of Virginia in a very big, and novel, way! It's gonna be awesome, and I'll be telling everyone about all the details as they emerge. So open up your knowledge baskets and get set!

Ahhhh, Rejuvenation!

Sometimes it happens in the least likely of places. The dead of winter, for example. But we have been having freakishly mild weather as of late. A few things have happened that I am very, very excited about. But before I go on listing exactly what they are (don't worry, it's a short list), I'll do a little bit of pontificating about myself, and some peculiarities of mine.

I find my remedy for boredom, or just staleness in my life, has usually run to the physical. Around this time last year, it was discovering Bike and Build and starting this blog. A year has passed since I began that journey-phew, I really can't believe it- and a lot has changed. I have a new definition of myself, what I'm physically capable of. I have an intimate connection to seven or eight states that I've ridden through now, and a bond with a group of people that I don't think I'd be able to fully dissolve even if I tried. My soul is healthier, I think, for having seen so many sights and felt so many emotions. I treasure every mountain pass and every moment I can look back on a freak out (read: Shira screaming at Peter in Nebraska) and not stiffle the laugh. We suffered a lot and learned a lot and it was ecstasy, every moment of it. I have, and will always, enjoy reminiscing about it but it is time to look forward once again!

I've decided to tack another lofty goal onto the "things to do" list for the year. I plan on completing at least a half Ironman and possibly a full by the end of the 2009 calendar year. There's a half in Montauk that looks promising, and if I get my way I'll compete in the Wisconsin or Maryland Full Ironman. I've been playing with the idea of competing in one for a long time now, and I am just so excited to be taking my first steps again on another road. It keeps one focused for certain. For those of you who don't know much about the Ironman, it's considered by many to be the golden fleece of athletic achievement. I'd have to agree, when it comes to endurance anyway. By the numbers, a standard Ironman is a 2.4 mile open water swim, a 112 mile bike, and a marathon to be completed within 17 hours. Each leg is an achievement onto itself.

I come into this knowing full well the likelihood that I will not complete this race. It does not discourage me, and it is not an excuse to not try. I feel that, as Shira once told me, "the process is the goal". I think that, whether or not I achieve the concrete goal here, I'll discover things about myself and enact meaningful change within my own life. That is worth far more to me than nabbing that finisher's medal; nonetheless, I shall work hard, I am already working hard. If my personal experience and transformation doing this is anything like it was biking across country, I know I won't be disappointed whatever the outcome.

So then this blog, too, will be a part of achieving the goal. I'll be writing periodically about my training and my progress. The races I'm competing in this semester will all be a part of that training as well. I am freshly returned from a nine mile run, training for the Shamrock Half Marathon in March. I'll be doing plenty of running while it's still cold out. Probably more of that than either of the other two disciplines, although I also want to focus a lot on my swimming as well. So if any of you are still watching this blog, please continue! Bookmark it even. It's bound to be a bumpy ride along the way, and I'll try to capture all of those feelings here.

Goals keep us focused, I think give us a sense of purpose where there might not otherwise feel like there was. I am very much relieved to have decided upon a new one! Remember, a goal without a plan is just a wish! In the meantime, I hope everyone has an excellent holiday season. I'll be spending the tail end of mine with some Bike and Builders in the Florida sun. And I cannot wait.

Peace out, Hombres!

Winter Sucks

I need to buy a trainer... ugh. Don't get me wrong, I really love the winter. Once you reach Thanksgiving, it's pretty much a clear shot to Christmas and New Years; all three are excellent holidays. But the weather just isn't fun for cycling, or exercise in general. Sure, there are plenty of people who are willing to wrap up in wool jersies and gloves and ride to their heart's content out in blustery winter gusts. But not me. I think it's safe to say, my days of regular exercise are over.

On the positive end, I'm finally updating this blog, right? There's a few little hiccups to mention since last post. For starters, I made it onto the Chris Webber Memorial Ride Roster (quite a mouthful, eh?)! I am super duper excited to get on that, especially because Jake and Marty are both doing the ride too. I've been racking my brain recently for inside jokes with which to relive my past experience and simaltaneously alienate everyone that's not Jake or Marty. A few that come to mind are Peter's pterodactyll cry and yelling "I'm not sweep!" while passing people, and something about food hoarding. Actually, a lot of these are about Peter. Heh heh...so yeah.

Moving on to other news, Barbara had some excellent bits of her own! She is now a leader for the Central US trip this summer; I'm wicked jealous, and intend on somehow hopping on for an hour or day or week. I'll also be pressuring some friends of mine who are contemplating doing a trip to sign up for CUS. There's only a few spots left on any of the trips, people! She's got a lot of work ahead of her, no doubt, and I'll marvel at her ability to complete her pre-trip responsibilities and hold a job, but hey, she's up to it.

Thanksgiving was a good one this year, on multiple fronts. It's pretty much my favorite holiday ever because we travel to Kentucky and stay at my aunt's very beautiful and very rustic home. And they're hippies who love extreme sports and physical activity and good beer. And my god the food. So, I ate a lot, and sat in front of the fire a lot, and watched my little second cousins be absolute terrors and wonder fondly if I was really that bad when I was their age. I'm sure I was worse, in fact. But as usual, it's always a lot of fun to see that part of the family, and watch it grow. And then there was the mountain biking and trail running on their property. Totally freaking awesome. And it gave me justification to stuff my face.

So yeah, I'm back at school now and putting off writing two papers, due tuesday and thursday respectively. It's gonna be a hairy week, but I think I can pull through. Until then, send me bike related presents or money! Because I need both!

Looking Forward

So... riding has slowed down a little bit now. Fall's been good so far, but I know before I even realize it, there'll be snow on the ground and I'll be stuck in the gym or on a trainer. It's been a good season. Mountain biking was a ton of fun, and so were the races that I've competed in. Oh, on that note, I did fairly well in my duathlon. I finished the whole thing in 1:06:47; 2 mi run, 10.4 mi bike, 5k run. I placed something like 8th overall and 2nd in my age group, 20-24. I was a little upset by that, since I was the only one from the team that didn't medal. Even though I got better times than them. Damn my age and possession of a certain appendage, hahaha!

The guy who beat me was an old alumnus from the team and a very cool guy, but I certainly have a competitive streak in me. For my first duathlon, however, I'm still very pleased, and the overall experience was way fun. Sadly, the season is sort of winding down. I probably won't race again until the season starts up again in the spring, but I will have a lot of fun training in the meantime! I've got only fun things to look forward to in the future, which brings me to the meat of this post. I've been looking into some cool projects and rides for when the weather turns appropriate again. Most of them are either runs or long rides/races. Some of them are job possibilities.

I guess we'll start with the run. I've been cooling my heels a bit and keeping myself in general shape by doing a couple 5k and 10k races. They're fun, they don't require a whole lot of training. Really, they don't require any at the moment. And of course, they feed you and typically give you a tshirt when you register. And I am nothing if not about food and clothes. Still, I've had my eye on a few longer races in the spring. One of them is the Shamrock Sportsfest Half Marathon. A year back, I posted a bit about my training for their 10k race with my friend Jamie. This year, I plan on upgrading. Shamrock was awesome last year, and I suspect that free beer and music will be even sweeter after running seven more miles than last year. I've got a few friends who're going to run with me, and the more the merrier. If you're interested in coming along, check out their link: http://www.shamrockmarathon.com/site3.aspx

I'm also planning on doing some longer tours/rides in the near future and also near the start of summer. Yesterday I registered for the Chris Webber Memorial Ride, which takes place from Dec. 28th to Jan. 2nd on the coast of Florida. It's run by Bike and Build and is entering its second year of existence. I'm told that spots are extremely difficult to come by, and given out based on a lottery system. Hopefully I'll be able to get in, because I can't think of very many things I'd rather do during the cold cold winter than bike around sunny florida! If not, I'll have saved myself three hundred and fifty dollars for the registration fee, plus whatever I'd be paying for gas to get down there.

But what I'm really, really excited for is DEATH RIDE 2009!!!! I just started researching it today, after reading an article about the ride in a pilfered outdoor rec. magazine from our school of integrated science and technologies (ISAT). I'm so glad that I stole it, because this ride looks sweet. Set in the aptly named "California Alps", this race takes you up and down five passes over 129 miles and over 15,000 feet of climbing. I wonder why they call it Death Ride? Definitely check out their website: http://www.deathride.com/index.html It looks like the stickers and jersies alone are enough reason to do this ride.

On the employment end of the spectrum, I've decided to explore working for a number of outdoor adventure and recreation programs over the summer, as well as look into getting hired by a touring company. All of them are lofty goals, to be sure, but everyone also says "do what you love". And I know what I love. So far I've looked at Outward Bound, and will be talking with the brother of a friend who worked for their school in Moab, Utah. I've also explored a few cycling companies centered around the eastern seaboard and in the northwest. It's all very exciting!

So that's it for the housekeeping. Hope all is well in everyone's worlds, and of course that you're all spending some time on your bikes! Peace out, hombres!

Hello Fall, Goodbye Summer

When I woke up early yesterday morning to a slight frost on my window and my roommate's advice to "not wear shorts", I knew. It's here. Autumn is unquestionably upon us. Sure, the leaves had long since been changing, the sun had been setting earlier and earlier. I'd caught the dusky smell of a wood fire burning on more than one occasion. But a chilly morning is the only surefire sign that Fall is here.

The Summer is dead, or at least it's dying. My calves are only one muscle group now, instead of two like they were so many months ago in Iowa. All the hardships of living in a group of thirty, strong minded, hungry, tired individuals have been completely swallowed up by fond memories and nostalgia. And I was reminded again, today, that a thirty mile bike ride is suddenly a long ride again, when it would have been laughable before. Time's no longer my own like it used to be. Maybe it won't ever be again. I'll just have to get by on the days off and the weekends and the spare moments that I can find them. And that's okay.

I rode up Reddish Knob over the weekend. It's a great little mountain, twelve miles of climbing from the foot to the summit. Paved all the way up. I hadn't done it since the end of last year; while the descent was exhilarating, I distinctly recall the climb being...unfun. I took it with a group of five, all triathlon kids. I wanted to see how I stacked up. Not just against them, but against the mountain. All of us finished the climb within two or so minutes of one another. The mountain was still difficult. Still, there's nothing better to help you climb than the prior knowledge that you have it in you to climb even higher.

We started climbing around six o clock in the evening. Two miles from the top we were all greeted with the most beautiful view of a sunset I've seen in a long while. Golden gossamer clouds sitting atop lapis mountains, and the beginnings of a dark, star filled horrizon beyond that pink sun. But for the desire to climb the whole thing without stopping, I would have taken a picture. Maybe I should have. I was, however, able to take an artistically blurry victory shot of the five of us, grinning in the night. We descended in complete darkness. Sometimes our poor decisions are the best ones. But we didn't die.

I was able to talk to Ducky and Nick, who I carpooled, about my cross country trip. Both of them had been to various places we stayed throughout the country. Ducky had herself hiked in the Tetons, which we only had the pleasure of biking past. Nick had spent a summer in Jackson Hole, working and skiing with some friends. Somehow, afterwards, I felt akin to both of them despite having only met them hours before. We'd breathed the same air, walked beneath the same sky. And we had all seen, with our own eyes, the same world.

I've always favored experiences over objects. Material things get worse, degrade with the passage of time. Our memories only get better, develop and are enriched as the years pass over them. I realize now that I had not seen my experience for all that it was. I realize that I'll always be realizing it, as I re-examine and re-evaluate all those days and nights in unfamiliar towns and unfamiliar roads. We were in Heaven and we didn't even know it. So I guess, as much as I bemoan getting farther and farther from my trip, it's a good thing. I'll carry it in its perfection, forever.

Oops.

Sooooooooo, I flipped over my handlebars on the trails today at the first step down. It was a bummer, as I'd ridden over it like twenty times before without incident. But I didn't break anything, just banged up my arm a tick. And my pride. Oops.

CENTURAYYYYYYYYYYY!

The two rides I was looking forward to did not disappoint. As expected, the brick was tons of fun. I had decided to go on a mountain ride with Jessie on Friday to get in some much needed practice on the blue trails at Hillandale. Yeah, any experienced mountain biker (my roommate for example) would probably laugh at me. But honestly? The technical aspects of the sport are not something that I quickly latch onto; I'm much better at thoughtlessly-at least I think so anyway- going fast. That works pretty well on the road, but generally that'll get you flipped over your handlebars when you ride mountain. I'm making strides for sure, and generally after a lap around the trail I am significantly looser on the bike and therefore less prone to wiping out. Still no bad falls yet!

But anyway, we had to cancel the mountain ride on account of rain, since the last time we rode the trails wet we were slipping and sliding and quite a few people bled. I decided that the rain was a perfect excuse to slip back into my chams and jersey and become what Jessie describes as "the asshole road cyclist". So we set out on a moderately paced twelve mile ride down route eleven. Now, route eleven's definitely not a very difficult road in terms of terrain. There are a few rollers and some of them are pretty steep, but honestly after the rockies, cascades, apalachians and catskills, I've had to rethink whatever I used to deem difficult. Still, I was really excited that I could push at a pretty good pace and feel very comfortable. I really don't feel like I've gotten in enough saddle time. It turns out that the reason we were moving so fast is because we had a tailwind, which we realized when we turned around and had to fight through it...uphill.

After cleaning the water and grit off of myself and the bike and chowing down a dumpster dove everything bagel with humous at Jessie's, I was ready to head out to the Brick. I arrived to the meeting place to find a few runners and no bicycle. The practice director was having second thoughts about the bike leg, as I was the only one who had yet turned up with a bike, and it was a bit rainy out. Thankfully, other bikers turned up-Zach, a sophomore riding an Allez Sport, and Kristen riding a rusty mountain bike without a helmet. The ride was on!

The ride-a nine miler out to the trail we'd be running at-turned out amazingly. The weather cleared almost as soon as we hit the road in earnest, and it was great chewing the fat with two athletes I'd never met. Much more impressive was the fact that Kristen was able to keep up with us on a mountain bike with platform pedals. Even more impressive is the fact that she ran five miles on top of that. I can't wait until the next brick workout-I'm also pretty psyched for the long ride on wednesday at 1 PM. Finally something fun to do before my class at five o clock.
But the more pressing subject of the journal, and appropriately the title, was the century I rode in this morning.

I got back in the saddle in earnest this morning, at around six AM. It was equal parts unpleasant and nostalgic to be getting up before the first light. I would've seldom gotten up so late as six o clock during bike and build, but then my roommates wouldn't have kept me up until three AM either. Suffice to say, I had a ton of energy as I headed out the door to the park. The Shenandoah Valley Bicycle Coalition has been holding the ride that I was in for twenty six years. It definitely showed. The whole ride worked like a well oiled machine, and provided some of the best food I could have expected for the measly fifteen dollars I payed to register.

I ended up running into some Bike and Builders on the ride, much to my surprise. My buddy Dan, it turned out, had convinced some of the riders from his route to come out for the ride. After a little goading to ride with them on the century-I had since gotten cold feet and conceded to riding only the fifty miler-I joined them on the lineup at eight o clock. I ended up getting to know a little about his friends Rachel and Emily, and the way that their trip worked. It seems every route has its own particular flavor, and the NC to SD trip sounded like it was pretty tasty. I also ended up chit chatting with a woman from Charlottesville named Peggy who had been convinced by her cyclist husband to take up the hobby. She insisted that we were biking twins-which was sort of true, although she was riding a much sweeter Roubaix- and I ended up getting her number. I plan on giving her a call when I get into the Charlottesville area for a ride.

All in all, a very successful, very endorphin filled day. In fact, I'm still riding that high, and plan on riding it for the rest of the week. Peace out Hombres!

Tri It

Yeah. So I joined JMU's triathlon club last night. Sort of on impulse; well not on impulse exactly. I'd been thinking about doing it for a while. But I was a little bit unsure of my ability to do it. Yeah, I know. I rode thirty eight hundred miles this summer and I wasn't sure if I could do it. I realize now that I was crazy to have any doubts about it. It was one of the best decisions I've made since getting back to school.

Mountain biking has been great, but I have been sorely missing being on Jonas. Prior to this, the most I'd been on him all school year was just a few miles, trying to get around. At most we're talking twenty miles. Even more important than just getting on the road bike again was having a routine to doing it. It's great to know that pretty much every week I have a few opportunities to go on longer group rides. I think it'll feel like home again, like the trip. I'm also super psyched to be able to network with so many great athletes, and watch others and myself get stronger. And then there's the competition aspect.

I registered for my first Tri last night as well, which is taking place on September 20th. I think it's going to be really fun and low key, which is a great way for me to get my feet wet in the sport. It's only a sprint, so I'll be more than able to complete it. The team seems very cohesive and I'm really looking forward to being a part of their group, even if it's just for a year. Ohh, and I'm super psyched for the training rides I'll be doing over the next few days. Tomorrow we have a brick workout that I'm really excited about.

For those of you who might not know what a brick is, it's a consecutive bike and run. It's called a brick because...drumroll...your legs feel like bricks during the transition between biking and running. I've never done a brick before, but I am so excited about finally doing it. And getting back into my chams! I have a feeling I'll be one of the only, if not the only person, in spandex because it's only an eighteen mile bike ride. But whatever, I love 'em.

The other ride I'm really looking forward to is happening on sunday. It's a community ride, from what I can gather, so there'll be all sorts of cyclists there. From experienced vets, to families, and I'm sure lots of college students. We have the option of riding twenty five miles, fifty miles, seventy five miles, or a century. Even though I'm a little worried about running out of light, because the ride doesn't start until nine in the morning, I'm going for the Centurayyyyy! I figure if things look like they won't work out, I can always bail. Now I just need to pick up a tube from the bike shop this afternoon when I'm done with class. Yeah-sigh- I got a valve tear yesterday when I was pumping up my rear tire. I'll have to throw away the tube that I got from that triathlete outside of Jackson so many weeks ago.

But ohh well. CENTURAYYY! Peace out Hombres!

First Fall!

So, we've been riding on the trails in earnest for two class periods. We've been on the green trails-that is, the easiest trails in the park- and it's been a lot of fun. Sure, experienced mountain bikers would call it boring, since it's not super technical and obstacles tend to come at you one at a time instead of one after another. But for rank novices like us, the experience has been a lot of fun, and for a few of us, a little scary. I've loved every second of it, including my first fall this morning.

The class so far has gone without a hitch, really. I've been really pleased to find that I still retain a fair amount of cycling fitness, despite having curtailed my riding significantly. The course itself is relatively flat, with the only real climb being what I would call moderate, if not easy. That climb's right at the start, being on the path from our instructors house in town to the mountain course. Needless to say, it's been really nice being able to sing at the top of my lungs while almost everyone else in the class is gasping for breath. And yeah, I still sing all the time on the bike, which my new riding partners have noticed and commented on. But anyway, onto the fall.

Probably the most intimidating feature of the ride so far is, like the only significant hill, at the beginning. It's a bit of stepdown, something like three or four feet down a rocky outcrop. Admitedly it's nothing too difficult, but for those people in the class who have minimal experience cycling at all, let alone mountain biking, I understand why it's a bit scary. At the moment it's one of my favorite features to tackle, and the one I figured would cause my first wreck in the class. As it turns out, the culprit was taking too sharp a turn on a gravely patch, losing my nerve and braking, and taking a spill because of that. It was a lot of fun, and the only reprimand I got for the mistep was some dirt on my jeans and a little adrenaline in my blood. I can't wait to show up to the Russian History class I have right after a little bloody. I'm pretty sure I already get a few stares from being sweaty and dirty.

The semester's only starting to go full swing, and I can't wait to get out into the more advanced trails and tear 'em up. As for the other biking developments, I'll leave that for another post in the future, as more developments occur. But I'm pretty excited about all of 'em.
Peace out, Hombres!

Finally, a bike shop

Well, as you all know, the Bike and Build adventure is done and finished. The trip, however, did not satiate my desire to do great things. Rather, the trip ignited it. In keeping with that theme, I've decided to keep writing in this blog about any and all bicycle related adventures. Hopefully someone will read this blog every so often; you need not be a bike and build alumni-but if you are, HI!- you're welcome to put in your two cents about what I have to say. But as I was saying, this blog will be devoted to my experiences on the saddle of a bike. I plan on always being a cyclist in one form or another, and hope to do many other long distance tours on a road bike. My next planned adventure is a ride from Boston to Provincetown this summer with some Bike and Builders and a few other friends who seem interested. However, the fall semester promises to offer up some new experiences in the immediate future.



I've decided to branch out a bit and try my hand at mountain biking this semester. Up until this point my experience has been limited to one ride at Fountainhead Park back home. It was, to say the least, one of the most challenging rides I've ever done. I distinctly remember the feeling of exhaustion after the ride, as well as the constant fear of eating dirt or breaking a bone during the ride. I'm told that the course is actually pretty challenging, but I'd still consider myself a novice when it comes to mountain cycling. I figured the best move for me to make would be to take a class on the subject, so that is exactly what I did. This morning I had my second day of mountain cycling class, a kinesiology course designed to "explore the holistic, spiritual, and physical benefits of mountain cycling". Or so says the syllabus.



This morning began at Shenandoah Bicycle Company, a cool little shop nestled between Dave's Taverna and an auto-body shop downtown. I've been a few times-one particularly memorable experience was buying my cycling shoes for the trip- and it was nice to finally be back inside a bike shop. It wasn't quite so nice biking through the rain a few miles to get there, but ehhh, I've seen worse. Funny now how bike shops give me those warm fuzzies now...ahhh consumerism. But anyway, we were there to learn a little basic maintanence for our bicycles and to make certain that they were in good working condition. I'd considered bringing Jonas to the shop, since I figured I didn't need to learn much about basic maintanence. After all, I already knew how to basically maintain my road bike. Plus, Jonas is frankly much faster than my mountainbike, who I've decided to name Rocky. Yeah, original huh?



Anyway, I'm very glad that I decided to bring Rocky in despite his slight slugishness as compared to his lighter, slimmer brother. As I found out today, mountainbike mechanics are just different enough from a road bike's to merit a little hands on learning. It's the little things you know, like the lack of Presta valves on my tires. I never knew how much I'd miss those skinny little things until I had to use my fingernails to slowly-and I mean SLOWLY- let the air out of my tires so I could check the tubes. Even the break release on my mountainbike is a little different than my roadbike.

I guess that those things should be different is obvious. They are, afterall, bikes designed to do different things. As much as I grudge Rocky's slowness a little, I have to admit he can take a beating on a trail way better than Jonas could. I'd be in real trouble if I tried bringing a road bike where I'm going. Still, after spending an entire summer doing routine maintanence on my bike and feeling like this maintanence class would be a snap, I found myself very frustrated that I couldn't change a mountain bike flat with the ease I could my road bike's. It really is all about habit building, and obviously I'm going to have to learn new habits to deal with the mountain bike.

Still, it was exciting also, especially seeing the people in the class that had never had any sort of experience maintaining their bikes suddenly get what they were trying to do. It was a nice reminder of my summer, where many of us began knowing almost nothing about our bikes and ended having a pretty intimate understanding of them. I can't wait to see where everyone is after this class! And of course, I can't wait to get out there and ride!

Peace out Hombres!

The end but not The End

I'll be trying to do this last post justice, recapping the experience of my lifetime to this point.  We hit the Puget Sound three days ago.  My bike has been packed up and shipped, hopefully to the correct address.  Everyone I had known for the last two and a half months has scattered, either back home to the east or around the Seattle area.  Myself?  I'm writing from Bremerton, a small town nestled in a peninsula west of Seattle.  I slept alone, in a bed, for the first time in a long time last night.  I didn't wake up prematurely because of someone else's alarm.  It was at once glorious and awful.  I've been keeping tabs on bike and builders over the last few days, and the overarching feeling seems to be a unanimous melancholy.  I can't speak for anyone else, but as expected I feel incredibly lazy.  Seattle's been a lot of fun, but God do I miss my bicycle!  I can't wait to put it back together and go for a nice long ride.  

But let me give you a slight recap of our triumphant ride into the city!  We began the morning full of pep, and with more screaming involved than I ever anticipated so early in the day.  Rather than feeling sad as I expected, it seemed everyone had more enthusiasm than we had when we left Providence so many weeks ago.  So much enthusiasm, in fact, that some people tipped over on their bicycles.  Well, Katharine did.  Two minutes into the ride.  It was great.  From Everett we rode through a labyrinth of busy suburban streets, all characteristically pointing towards civilization.  Finally, after months of small towns we were finally witnessing the trappings of a big city.  Admittedly it was a bit of a culture shock, and we were still in the suburbs.  

The bike path was the highlight of the ride for myself and I'm sure many others.  It's funny though; after months of riding on roads with cars, the bike path probably proved more dangerous.  There were a million cyclists on the path into the city, many of them no-nonsense types that were flying.  And there were thirty of us, going relatively slow and really not paying enough attention.  I'm surprised that there weren't any collisions.  Especially since we were so in awe of our surroundings the whole time.  

The whole ride I was insanely jealous of Hana, who lives in Seattle and gets to experience the Sammamish Park Trail on a regular basis, because I've never been on a more gorgeous bike trail.  And I've been on a lot.  We spent the majority of the ride hugging what must have been Lake Sammamish, cutting through millionaire suburbs with wildflowers and blackberry patches all over the place.  By the time we saw the Space Needle in the distance I'm sure all of us wanted to move to Sea-town.  The bike trail spat us out somewhere around Fremont, where the ride took a very interesting turn.

We knew beforehand that the ride into Seattle would be somewhat by the seat of our pants.  Up until getting into the city proper we'd managed to pretty much stay on course.  That all changed when we got into Fremont, where we were greeted by draw bridges and stairwells.  Let me tell you, it was quite a sight seeing thirty cyclists walking their bikes down five flights of stairs.  From there, it was only a few bumps and scratching our heads sessions from Alaskan Way, the road that would take us to Alki Beach.  

Like the rest of the ride through the city, getting to Alki Beach was...confusing.  However, after reconvening back on yet another bike path, disrupting cyclist and pedestrian traffic, and allowing sweeps to lead (essentially making us "Sweepless in Seattle",get it?), we managed to make it to the Sound.  With the backdrop of roaring applause from our family and friends, we proceeded to strip down to our chamois and jump into the Puget Sound.  A bike and build tradition?  Yes.  Probably a bad idea?  Probably.  But I've never screamed so loud and hugged anyone so hard and it all felt worth it.  

They-they being bike and build alumni-told us not to expect any profound moment after getting to our destination.  They told us that every day was significant in and of itself and that if we went looking for some cathartic mind expanding experience we wouldn't find it.  They were right about the significance of every day.  I'll carry the whole trip with me for the rest of my life.  But I still think that Seattle stands alone for me, that I truly understood the depth of my affection for the group as I was embracing them in the Sound.  We're a dysfunctional group of people for certain, and the trip had no shortage of bumps and squalls.  But when we leapt into icy cold water, we were family.  My mind goes back to a man we met in a baptist church in Ohio, who told Brook and I that we were his brothers and sisters, and that we had to be that for each other.  And so we are.

Who Da Ho?

Idaho. Those sort of corny jokes litter our cue sheets these days. You guessed it, we're back in Idaho, a gnarly little state that is definitely not all about potatoes. Well, I mean I'm sure part of it is. But not where we are. No, it's more about awesome scenery, mountain passes, and quaint little towns that I'll be pressuring my parents to retire in. Wallace Idaho, check it out. Seriously.

We left Montana for good this morning, riding some sixty miles from Superior MT into Wallace, a beautiful mining town nestled between pine covered hills. We also finally entered into Pacific Standard Time. I'm now three hours behind all you suckers on the east coast! In short, today's ride was awesome, with a little bit of mayhem thrown in there. We climbed another mountain pass by the name of Lookout. I wouldn't call it easy, per se, but an elevation of only 4860 feet does make it one of our lighter climbs. The descent, however, was a gorgeous and moderately hairaising one all the way down in Wallace. Let's just say that there were a lot of aptly named "death grates", those are big vertically oriented grates that would easily cause us to flip over our handle bars if we hit them. Not good news when you're going about forty miles an hour in traffic. But now that it's said and done, it's only fun, not frightening.

We've got a lot of beautiful rides to look forward to. Our next, into Cour D'Alene, will take us about twenty some miles down a beautiful bike path, and ultimately to a lake that is plastered all over the state's postcards. I'm looking forward to booking it into town tomorrow so I can get a little time to even out my rider's tan. Thankfully, the ride should only be about fifty miles, so getting in some lake time won't be much of a problem. Yeah, fifty miles is a short ride these days. It's weird, I know.

We're pulling up to the home stretch, only a few days away from the Washington border. I think it's safe to assume that we all have mixed feelings about finishing our little pilgrimage. I for one am looking forward to sleeping in a real bed and all. Then there's my mini vacation in Seattle. That'll be epic. Still, it'll be weird to not be spending every single day on the back of a bike. I keep wondering what I'm going to do to fill the hours of my day. Bike? Eat? Sleep? Well that's what the last two months have been filled with. Pretty simple life, ehh? I guess it's true what you hear, that a simple life is the best life. I have a feeling the transition's going to be pretty tough.

So all of you, wish me luck as I gear up to gear down. Way down. Because soon I'll be back to my sleeping in a bed, going to class, hanging out, and maybe getting in a thirty mile ride every few days. If I'm lucky. I'm going to miss this experience terribly. Just like my legs and my tan lines. But like they also say. All good things...

Peace out hombres!