I've been declared the smartest friend. Andy was really cautious of me biking with my knee all out of wack. He said that if I get to Vancouver and I can bike with the group I'll be the smartest friend, but if I get there and I can't bike I'm the stupidest friend... Well needless to say, I'm biking. The knee's still not perfect, but its bike-able. I figured it would be worse to not bike at all and then jump in on a long day, so I've been working the strength up. Apparently it worked, or is working- therefore I am the smartest friend...
On the ride down from Vancouver I got my first flat with Audrey (my bike). Funny thing was, I changed it out with a tube Scott gave me a while back. That tube apparently also had a hole in it. Three tire changes later we were back on our way and my back wheel was slightly untrue (meaning it had a bend/wave in it)...
I decided I was going to try ad fix it myself. Everyone said it was a bad idea, but I wanted to try, so this morning I sat down before we rolled out to try and fix it. Right off the bat I made it better, but then I continued messing with it and before I knew it the tire looked like it was run over by a car and was spinning all crazy. I just started to laugh, it was no longer bike-able...
We were trying to figure out the options, I could take a bus to the closest city with a bike shop, or try and hitch-hike.... Finally I decided to give it another go, and at least make it ride-able. So I sat down and did it again. Now my wheel is as true as ever and I have redeemed myself as " THE SMARTEST FRIEND"
Ryan C . Kolegas
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Ryan: The Worst Bike Rider
So its official. I am the worst bike rider.
It started with the knee incident. Apparently my seat was too low, or I was standing too much, or a compilation of a bunch of things... All the same, I busted my knee and opened myself up for everyone to tell me how to ride a bike... best part is, I have to grit my teeth and listen, its the price I pay for being a terrible bike rider... So that was the first part.
On to following in a group... apparently I don't follow in the right spot, so when I'm behind Scott I get in his blind spot on accident, then he speeds up, then I try and keep pace (which is hilarious with a knee injury. Have you ever seen somebody limp while riding a bike? Its pretty hilarious), then everyone else is like "What the hell got into them?" MORAL: I Can't follow Scott anymore... When I lead, I always feel like I'm not going fast enough (probably because Scott is a machine and there's just no shaking him), so I end up going too quick (which is also bad for my knee)... MORAL: I can't lead.
Final funny story about poor bike riding... I had the first accident of the trip yesterday. We had just made it to Vancouver and were riding on a bike trail. Every time there was a driveway or something there'd be a four foot metal pool in the middle of the path... we were cruising, the order was Scott, Stu, Ryan, Andy, then Matt... Well, I don't really know how it happened, but all of a sudden there was a pole, I screamed a percussive two word curse starting with"Oh" and ending with "Quieting somebody before a pronoun"... I hit my left handlebar on the pole and went flying. All I could think was, "oh crap, I hope Andy can dodge my bike," I rolled once on the ground and bounced to my feet. I was completely fine, not a scratch physically, but boy was my pride bruised- MORAL: I Can't follow Stu... My placement in this line is becoming more strict every day.
I was gonna write a blog about the incredible hospitality of people in the Northwest, and about some awesome people we've met with some stellar stories, but I thought it was necessary to share the story of the worst Bike rider...
Ryan C. Kolegas
It started with the knee incident. Apparently my seat was too low, or I was standing too much, or a compilation of a bunch of things... All the same, I busted my knee and opened myself up for everyone to tell me how to ride a bike... best part is, I have to grit my teeth and listen, its the price I pay for being a terrible bike rider... So that was the first part.
On to following in a group... apparently I don't follow in the right spot, so when I'm behind Scott I get in his blind spot on accident, then he speeds up, then I try and keep pace (which is hilarious with a knee injury. Have you ever seen somebody limp while riding a bike? Its pretty hilarious), then everyone else is like "What the hell got into them?" MORAL: I Can't follow Scott anymore... When I lead, I always feel like I'm not going fast enough (probably because Scott is a machine and there's just no shaking him), so I end up going too quick (which is also bad for my knee)... MORAL: I can't lead.
Final funny story about poor bike riding... I had the first accident of the trip yesterday. We had just made it to Vancouver and were riding on a bike trail. Every time there was a driveway or something there'd be a four foot metal pool in the middle of the path... we were cruising, the order was Scott, Stu, Ryan, Andy, then Matt... Well, I don't really know how it happened, but all of a sudden there was a pole, I screamed a percussive two word curse starting with"Oh" and ending with "Quieting somebody before a pronoun"... I hit my left handlebar on the pole and went flying. All I could think was, "oh crap, I hope Andy can dodge my bike," I rolled once on the ground and bounced to my feet. I was completely fine, not a scratch physically, but boy was my pride bruised- MORAL: I Can't follow Stu... My placement in this line is becoming more strict every day.
I was gonna write a blog about the incredible hospitality of people in the Northwest, and about some awesome people we've met with some stellar stories, but I thought it was necessary to share the story of the worst Bike rider...
Ryan C. Kolegas
Scott: Raccoons
These aren't the run of the mill raccoons you all know and love from the suburbs. The ones that hide during the day and stay away from people at night. The ones that travel in packs so they can fake Willie out with one on the right while their brothers attack the Jeep from behind. These are the super raccoons – the fearless bastards who stare you right in the eye while they break into your food. Some may hate these raccoons, but I love them.
Ryan has heard stories of Raccoons from his sister, Stacy Kolegas. If you want cool raccoon stories feel free to contact her. Tell her Scott sent you. She'll know what that means.
My raccoon story isn't that interesting. I am more impressed with the all encompassing audacity these animals have. When I say bastards who stare you in the eye when they eat your food, I mean it. There was one little guy who was just looking at me. Three feet away, he was. I start yelling, knowing in the back of my mind that he was taught “people won't hurt you” from a very young age. I can see it now - These little raccoon mothers teaching their children the ways of Larrabee State Park, and how to work the “people” system. Indeed, these creatures are smarter than us. If there's one thing they know how to do, it's getting food.
So I was yelling, about to take a picture, and he slowly comes toward me, one step at a time. I was going to get a beautiful headshot when Matt came running. He scared the raccoon away. Something I could never dream of doing. I didn't get a picture today, but hopefully I'll have something to show you on the way back through.
Ryan has heard stories of Raccoons from his sister, Stacy Kolegas. If you want cool raccoon stories feel free to contact her. Tell her Scott sent you. She'll know what that means.
My raccoon story isn't that interesting. I am more impressed with the all encompassing audacity these animals have. When I say bastards who stare you in the eye when they eat your food, I mean it. There was one little guy who was just looking at me. Three feet away, he was. I start yelling, knowing in the back of my mind that he was taught “people won't hurt you” from a very young age. I can see it now - These little raccoon mothers teaching their children the ways of Larrabee State Park, and how to work the “people” system. Indeed, these creatures are smarter than us. If there's one thing they know how to do, it's getting food.
So I was yelling, about to take a picture, and he slowly comes toward me, one step at a time. I was going to get a beautiful headshot when Matt came running. He scared the raccoon away. Something I could never dream of doing. I didn't get a picture today, but hopefully I'll have something to show you on the way back through.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Scott: Balding Buddies
Ryan and I were looking at pictures today. There were some noticeably good ones, but the things I felt stood out the most were our receding hair lines. A couple of years ago the question of whether we just had larger than average widow's peaks or we were balding was debatable, but now it is clear that we are in fact the latter. As we look into our visibly crowned futures, we realize this is something that we have to deal with. Our mother's fathers both went through follicly challenged lives and their mother's fathers before them. It is inevitable that we are required to bare the same burden.
So, in a last ditch effort to document my thick, somewhat feathered hair, I am growing it out for the summer. Right now it's kind of a mullet, but I'm hoping that will change soon. It is time to bid adieu to my golden locks and say hello to a trimmed head of hair. After all I have to deal with this for the rest of my life. There are so many things I've yet to accomplish. Trying out for American Idol, becoming a famous actor/model (and not the other way around), and pulling my mane back into a Gaston-esque pony tail. I've only a summer to do this and I am determined to accomplish my goals, however unreachable they may seem.
Ryan and I were talking about our meek hairless futures by the fire when a single tear rolled down my cheek. (It was actually my nose, but the cheek sounds more classically romantic.) The tear was not a reaction to our conversation, but a reaction to our bonfire's smoke in the eyes. Other tear producing possibilities include allergies, subconscious thoughts of an uncertain future, and the beauty of Ryan's face in the sunset. Sometimes my eyes just leak. I don't know why. Anyway, it came at an incredible moment, and I'm assuming it evaporated in the fire.
We wasted our attractive youths and it is quite possibly all down hill from here. Now I have to rely on my personality, and who knows how far that will get me. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty sexy - but I was like a 10. Now I'm a 9.5 at most. Damn you mother's father's mother's father! Damn you.
So, in a last ditch effort to document my thick, somewhat feathered hair, I am growing it out for the summer. Right now it's kind of a mullet, but I'm hoping that will change soon. It is time to bid adieu to my golden locks and say hello to a trimmed head of hair. After all I have to deal with this for the rest of my life. There are so many things I've yet to accomplish. Trying out for American Idol, becoming a famous actor/model (and not the other way around), and pulling my mane back into a Gaston-esque pony tail. I've only a summer to do this and I am determined to accomplish my goals, however unreachable they may seem.
Ryan and I were talking about our meek hairless futures by the fire when a single tear rolled down my cheek. (It was actually my nose, but the cheek sounds more classically romantic.) The tear was not a reaction to our conversation, but a reaction to our bonfire's smoke in the eyes. Other tear producing possibilities include allergies, subconscious thoughts of an uncertain future, and the beauty of Ryan's face in the sunset. Sometimes my eyes just leak. I don't know why. Anyway, it came at an incredible moment, and I'm assuming it evaporated in the fire.
We wasted our attractive youths and it is quite possibly all down hill from here. Now I have to rely on my personality, and who knows how far that will get me. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty sexy - but I was like a 10. Now I'm a 9.5 at most. Damn you mother's father's mother's father! Damn you.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Andy: Seattle.
We spent quite a bit of time in Seattle. Somthing like three days. I must admit that it was nothign like I imagined. All of the rooms we stayed in had four walls, no studio audiences made "whooo hooo" noises when scott took his shirt off and Frasier and Niles were no where to be seen. Yeah it was weird.
Actually, Seattle was a lot like Chicago. There were people there, and buildings, just like home!
I just finished spending 172 dollars on a tune up for the bike, a painful but necessary expenditure. My bike rides perfectly now, especially with all that wieght I lost in my wallet. I plan on finding new and interesting ways to eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches. I will become the king of peanut butter and honey sandys. Maybe I'll become power hungry and become a tyrant of peanut butter and honey sandys.
Anyways, trip's fun. I like stuff.
Andy Junk
Actually, Seattle was a lot like Chicago. There were people there, and buildings, just like home!
I just finished spending 172 dollars on a tune up for the bike, a painful but necessary expenditure. My bike rides perfectly now, especially with all that wieght I lost in my wallet. I plan on finding new and interesting ways to eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches. I will become the king of peanut butter and honey sandys. Maybe I'll become power hungry and become a tyrant of peanut butter and honey sandys.
Anyways, trip's fun. I like stuff.
Andy Junk
Scott: It Happened Again
We were riding in to Seattle along Lake Washington BLVD when it happened. The map we were using proved to be a bit faulty. This fact alone would have been fine. We could've asked some people for directions, or figured out a way to get over to Emma's (our hostesses) house by way of the sun. Instead, Stuart called mutiny. He called mutiny on me, and what did that accomplish? Probably one of the worst ideas brought forth by the rest of the riders we've had so far.
Trust the computer. Matt rode over to the jeep, and we proceeded to use the navigation system Adam has on his new car. There are two problems with this system. One: It defeats the whole point of riding fully loaded and self sustained. It's cheating. Two: Cheaters never prosper. I couldn't do anything to change the minds of the group though. Mutiny had been called on me.
So we rode up the steepest hills I had ever seen, all the while Andy expressing how he loves, and will always trust, computers. I enjoyed the exercise. This was the first time I had used my highest gear. The computer brought us up and down, over and over, until finally it got us onto Spokane. With a quick right turn we found there was no longer a shoulder to bring us safe passage, but it was too late. We were on a one way track to the highway. The upper bridge which connects Seattle to West Seattle apparently doesn't allow bikers on it, nor does it give warning that it doesn't allow bikers on it.
I was ahead, but I hear tales of a cop pulling the rest of the group over and scolding them to get off. It doesn't make sense to me why you would have someone stop on the side of the highway if you don't want them on it in the first place. It's not like this was our brilliant plan to get some good footage for the documentary, although I think we might have, and get thrills from the traffic passing close by on the left at speeds of 100 plus mph. We wanted to be off of this God forsaken bridge as much as he wanted us to be.
After some searching, we found a clear safe path to West Seattle... and parents, there is no need to worry. I exaggerate a bit for dramatic effect. It really wasn't that bad. We'll be more on the ball from now on. Seattle was great.
Trust the computer. Matt rode over to the jeep, and we proceeded to use the navigation system Adam has on his new car. There are two problems with this system. One: It defeats the whole point of riding fully loaded and self sustained. It's cheating. Two: Cheaters never prosper. I couldn't do anything to change the minds of the group though. Mutiny had been called on me.
So we rode up the steepest hills I had ever seen, all the while Andy expressing how he loves, and will always trust, computers. I enjoyed the exercise. This was the first time I had used my highest gear. The computer brought us up and down, over and over, until finally it got us onto Spokane. With a quick right turn we found there was no longer a shoulder to bring us safe passage, but it was too late. We were on a one way track to the highway. The upper bridge which connects Seattle to West Seattle apparently doesn't allow bikers on it, nor does it give warning that it doesn't allow bikers on it.
I was ahead, but I hear tales of a cop pulling the rest of the group over and scolding them to get off. It doesn't make sense to me why you would have someone stop on the side of the highway if you don't want them on it in the first place. It's not like this was our brilliant plan to get some good footage for the documentary, although I think we might have, and get thrills from the traffic passing close by on the left at speeds of 100 plus mph. We wanted to be off of this God forsaken bridge as much as he wanted us to be.
After some searching, we found a clear safe path to West Seattle... and parents, there is no need to worry. I exaggerate a bit for dramatic effect. It really wasn't that bad. We'll be more on the ball from now on. Seattle was great.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Scott: Funny Flaws on a Full Day
So I am the designated navigator for this trip, however I'm pretty much flying by the seat to my pants for this training ride up to Vancouver, B.C. I think it's hilarious (not everyone does) and I'm willing to get lost a little bit in order to obtain more out of life. (Like lessons on why you should prepare for long bike trips.) Today we were about 50 miles into our ride, and I decided to skip a few street names along the way to Yelm. When I was looking up the route on the computer I didn't think these streets were all that important. We would ask someone where they were when we got to the town. Boy was I wrong. Not only did we not ask anyone, but I forgot which street names I left out. We crossed a bridge we weren't supposed to cross, went to a gas station we never should have seen, and we nearly crashed on some gravel we should have never traversed. All this, and with fingernails that were cut too short.
I don't want any of you to be worried that we're going to get incredibly lost on this journey of ours. We won't, and the reason is we have two compasses. The other reason is that we have detailed adventure cycling maps. I know what we're doing when we leave Vancouver. It's getting there that's the problem. I'm looking forward to getting to Seattle tomorrow. Little do the riders know, my directions don't really bring us right there. We've got a few miles of spontaneity. We'll see what happens.
I don't want any of you to be worried that we're going to get incredibly lost on this journey of ours. We won't, and the reason is we have two compasses. The other reason is that we have detailed adventure cycling maps. I know what we're doing when we leave Vancouver. It's getting there that's the problem. I'm looking forward to getting to Seattle tomorrow. Little do the riders know, my directions don't really bring us right there. We've got a few miles of spontaneity. We'll see what happens.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Andy: Topeak Bikamper: or the thing you shouldn't buy because it is dumb.
What a shiny pretty clever idea; a tent that utilizes the bike frame itself in lieu of poles. That should save space and weight. What a convenience.
Unfortunately, the convenience stops in the idea stage. The practical implementation of the Topeak Bikamper Tent is severely flawed. It is made out of shoddy materials, is difficult to set up at night, and I have found that though it looks pretty cool after you finally get it self up, the hassle and lack of comfort are not worth the style.
It seems clear that Topeak got this great idea, but did not understand the basics of tent building. I have, in using the tent one time, had multiple clips and hooks snap, the rainfly fails to fully cover the tent, and the carrying bag is too small to fit the rainfly and the tent after you take it out of the case. In fact, after I had removed the tarp and just had the tent in there, the strain on the seems of the bag have caused a few inches of stitching to come undone.
On top of all this, this is my second Topeak Bikamper Tent. The first one that was shipped to me had many holes in the material of the tent. I sent it back immediately and incorrectly assumed that it was a fluke.
Oh, by the way. The second time I took the rainfly out of my Topeak Bikamper bag, all of the sealant tape fell out in a dusty mess. It was totally disgusting.
That being said, REI was very good about accepting the return of the original tent and I have high hopes concerning the return of the newer one.
Do not buy this tent. It's pretty, but it is seriously flawed in design, comfort, and durability.
Unfortunately, the convenience stops in the idea stage. The practical implementation of the Topeak Bikamper Tent is severely flawed. It is made out of shoddy materials, is difficult to set up at night, and I have found that though it looks pretty cool after you finally get it self up, the hassle and lack of comfort are not worth the style.
It seems clear that Topeak got this great idea, but did not understand the basics of tent building. I have, in using the tent one time, had multiple clips and hooks snap, the rainfly fails to fully cover the tent, and the carrying bag is too small to fit the rainfly and the tent after you take it out of the case. In fact, after I had removed the tarp and just had the tent in there, the strain on the seems of the bag have caused a few inches of stitching to come undone.
On top of all this, this is my second Topeak Bikamper Tent. The first one that was shipped to me had many holes in the material of the tent. I sent it back immediately and incorrectly assumed that it was a fluke.
Oh, by the way. The second time I took the rainfly out of my Topeak Bikamper bag, all of the sealant tape fell out in a dusty mess. It was totally disgusting.
That being said, REI was very good about accepting the return of the original tent and I have high hopes concerning the return of the newer one.
Do not buy this tent. It's pretty, but it is seriously flawed in design, comfort, and durability.
Scott: A Plethora of Smells
Plethora is one of the most misused words in the English language. I know this because of the extensive surveys I've done on the subject. Other words often used incorrectly are ironic, cleft lip, and psychiatrist. Plethora actually means too many, and not the widely believed “many.” Therefore when I say a plethora of smells, I refer to there being too many smells. Some are good and some are bad, and some of the worst are the ones that come out of Matt. ( I don't think he'd be mad I'm saying this. His methane excretions are more a matter of hilarity and pride in his eyes.)
In springtime Oregon we've passed fragrant flowers and pungent plants. I'd say the plants are more like factories, but I wanted to make use of my alliterative abilities. I noticed a theme. Every factory we passed brought the urge to hold our collective breath, which proves to be very difficult while riding a bike, and push through the pain. There's a basic system of smells, and it's far easier to produce a bad one than a good one.
My favorite smells were those of campfires, fresh muffins, allergenic roses, and nightly dinner. My least favorite were road kill, dirty jerseys, Matt's digested food, and a particular factory along St. Helens Road - It was mostly bad with a hint of sweetness, which made it far worse than anything else. Here's to far more fires and far less factories, but no factory fires. That would be the worst.
In springtime Oregon we've passed fragrant flowers and pungent plants. I'd say the plants are more like factories, but I wanted to make use of my alliterative abilities. I noticed a theme. Every factory we passed brought the urge to hold our collective breath, which proves to be very difficult while riding a bike, and push through the pain. There's a basic system of smells, and it's far easier to produce a bad one than a good one.
My favorite smells were those of campfires, fresh muffins, allergenic roses, and nightly dinner. My least favorite were road kill, dirty jerseys, Matt's digested food, and a particular factory along St. Helens Road - It was mostly bad with a hint of sweetness, which made it far worse than anything else. Here's to far more fires and far less factories, but no factory fires. That would be the worst.
Andy: Face Race
There's been a lot of races in our time. The Indy 500, the Tour de France, the Kentucky Derby, Egyptian, Lebanese... But never, in the history of man or beast, has someone intentionally chosen to shave their face and head at the same time in order to see which grows faster. Never. Not even when cavemen were in their caves just hanging out, building forts with couch cushions. I know, because I've been there.
Anyways, I guess I'm pretty cool because I did it. Well, my girlfriend did... after I got her pretty drunk. There will probably be some sweet facebook pics of it someday... (By the way, if you shave just the top of your head and keep the mustache, you look like a total perv. (At least I did.)) Anyhow, the race began about three days ago, and (place your bets now) It's a pretty close race. I've got my money on face over head. If I'm right, Matt will owe me a million dollars, and I can buy that island I was checking out on craiglist. It's looking to be beard all the way as of late, but I've seen a man with six fingers on one hand, so I guess anything is still possible.
Love and Kissys
Anyways, I guess I'm pretty cool because I did it. Well, my girlfriend did... after I got her pretty drunk. There will probably be some sweet facebook pics of it someday... (By the way, if you shave just the top of your head and keep the mustache, you look like a total perv. (At least I did.)) Anyhow, the race began about three days ago, and (place your bets now) It's a pretty close race. I've got my money on face over head. If I'm right, Matt will owe me a million dollars, and I can buy that island I was checking out on craiglist. It's looking to be beard all the way as of late, but I've seen a man with six fingers on one hand, so I guess anything is still possible.
Love and Kissys
Monday, June 16, 2008
Ryan: Funky Knee
So its been two days, 145 miles... I feel pretty good, minus my sore thighs, and exhaustion... However there is one big worry already. My knee seems to be mad at me. It is swollen and hurts- in a bad way (mostly when I'm riding)... I pushed through it yesterday and will probably do the same tomorrow, but today I'm relaxin' all cool. Stu and Andy made it to Portland, and Scott and them are going on a Gelato ride with Pedalpalooza. Its sounds sweet (literally, for the taste buds), and the gelato here is stellar, but I'd rather be able to rock tomorrow... Send my knee some good vibes, please. If I'm gonna make it 7400 more miles it needs to buck up...
Ryan C. Kolegas
Ryan C. Kolegas
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Scott: The Best First Day of Anything Ever
You may go through life chasing the dream of pure perfection - A day to begin a journey that will change the rest of your entire being. It may be your wedding day, graduation day, or the day when you finally retire from a job you love to begin a lovely retirement. Our day was June 14, 2008. The beginning of our “Biking the States” adventure. This was truly the best first day of anything ever. I'd be willing to bet anyone ten cents and pay the first person to challenge my bet, or more likely, to reap the rewards of the thousands of ten cent challenges I prove wrong.
The day started out with me not doing dishes, Matt not taking care of managerial duties, and Ryan not cutting off his beautiful braided pig tails. We began at 9:30 a.m., riding to Springfield to pick up some last minute items from Rick, a generous bike-friendly donor. What we did not prepare for fully, he supplied. Tubes, chain lube, pumps, tire levers, and sealant among other things. That's when the real trip began.
Some of the riding is definitely monotonous or strenuous, what have you. However, between those moments of struggle you get endless rewards. The second came when a bull dog began chasing us down the street. Normally when a dog starts this hunt, you think “Oh my Lord. I am going to get slowly eaten from ankle to head after crashing on my bike.” (Dogs love the smell of blood. Luckily none of us were bleeding yet. That came later in the day) But, this dog was wonderful in everything he did. He trotted over to us, smiling like a well trained pig, (I hear they're very intelligent), introduced himself, and began eating a snake on the side of the road. He followed us for about a quarter mile when we decided we should probably turn around to guide him back to his owners. If I were to have a dog, that's the kind of dog I would like.
After our little run in we continued on, spinning the best we could with a fully loaded bike and a fully annoying headwind. Our energy was quickly depleting, and we had no concept of when the next town was coming up. We pedaled and pedaled, and our speed went down and down. Finally, after twenty more miles we came across Brownsville, which has to be the best town around named after a color. As we rode through downtown, a man directed us off of our main path. Being to the point of exhaustion, we had to oblige. At the bottom of this street there was the “Strawberry Century.” A hundred mile through local towns and country. Matt began turning around when they call us back to food. “No no no. We don't care if you're with the ride. You're welcome to eat whatever you'd like.” We did.
We went from pasta salad, to Spongebob go-gurt, to string cheese, to bananas, to scones and brownies, and pb and j bagels, and strawberry pastries, and seconds of everything. Then we slept.
We awoke to a multitude of cyclists from all around Oregon. Every bite was heaven and every person seemed just as friendly as the last. It was the most welcome brake anyone could ask for. The only problem with me was I fell over. Mind you, I wasn't riding. I was simply setting my bike down and it brought me down with it. That's when the blood came.
But alas, we had to get moving to reach our destination for the day. We didn't know what that was exactly, as we aren't going off of the adv-cycling maps yet, so the goal was the nearest town around 70 miles. We pulled into this small, one restaurant, town and ate at the one restaurant they had. My favorite moment came after dinner. It brought us to where we are now.
During dinner we noticed a nice house across the street, and in an attempt to sleep somewhere we were going to ask them to let us set up camp in their yard. As we're about to ask this woman shouts from the parking lot, “No no no. (as they seem to do in these parts.) Go to the house next door. She's a biker.” So, we took her advice and knocked on the door of this beautiful 1913 house. That's where we met Roger and May Garland, two retired teachers from a local community college. As Roger taught film and has his photography, we couldn't have really found a more fitting couple.
Without a moments hesitation they invited us into their home to spend the night, offering food, drinks, showers, and towels. Roger just returned from a bike tour of the Underground Railroad, and was sympathetic to our needs. He's been across the U.S. four times, and has the self developed pictures to show for it. May had her first cross country trip just two years ago, and enjoys quilting in the extra time she now has. We exchanged stories and showed them the website, and you could just see the love between them. They were like two young newlyweds wrapped in each others arms. When I'm to the age of retirement, I would love to live the type of life they're enjoying right now. All in all this has been a fantastic day, and tomorrow we're starting with an old fashioned pancake breakfast. Until then, good night and good riddance. I was going to say “good night and good luck,” but that reminded me of a movie I'd never seen, so I put in an off putting way, and in to a Green Day song I've heard. I hope you're not offended. I enjoy all of you.
Oh, and I almost forgot. We helped a woman get her car out of a ditch. It was pretty stellar, and she was nice, though she may reverse her car into ditches.
The day started out with me not doing dishes, Matt not taking care of managerial duties, and Ryan not cutting off his beautiful braided pig tails. We began at 9:30 a.m., riding to Springfield to pick up some last minute items from Rick, a generous bike-friendly donor. What we did not prepare for fully, he supplied. Tubes, chain lube, pumps, tire levers, and sealant among other things. That's when the real trip began.
Some of the riding is definitely monotonous or strenuous, what have you. However, between those moments of struggle you get endless rewards. The second came when a bull dog began chasing us down the street. Normally when a dog starts this hunt, you think “Oh my Lord. I am going to get slowly eaten from ankle to head after crashing on my bike.” (Dogs love the smell of blood. Luckily none of us were bleeding yet. That came later in the day) But, this dog was wonderful in everything he did. He trotted over to us, smiling like a well trained pig, (I hear they're very intelligent), introduced himself, and began eating a snake on the side of the road. He followed us for about a quarter mile when we decided we should probably turn around to guide him back to his owners. If I were to have a dog, that's the kind of dog I would like.
After our little run in we continued on, spinning the best we could with a fully loaded bike and a fully annoying headwind. Our energy was quickly depleting, and we had no concept of when the next town was coming up. We pedaled and pedaled, and our speed went down and down. Finally, after twenty more miles we came across Brownsville, which has to be the best town around named after a color. As we rode through downtown, a man directed us off of our main path. Being to the point of exhaustion, we had to oblige. At the bottom of this street there was the “Strawberry Century.” A hundred mile through local towns and country. Matt began turning around when they call us back to food. “No no no. We don't care if you're with the ride. You're welcome to eat whatever you'd like.” We did.
We went from pasta salad, to Spongebob go-gurt, to string cheese, to bananas, to scones and brownies, and pb and j bagels, and strawberry pastries, and seconds of everything. Then we slept.
We awoke to a multitude of cyclists from all around Oregon. Every bite was heaven and every person seemed just as friendly as the last. It was the most welcome brake anyone could ask for. The only problem with me was I fell over. Mind you, I wasn't riding. I was simply setting my bike down and it brought me down with it. That's when the blood came.
But alas, we had to get moving to reach our destination for the day. We didn't know what that was exactly, as we aren't going off of the adv-cycling maps yet, so the goal was the nearest town around 70 miles. We pulled into this small, one restaurant, town and ate at the one restaurant they had. My favorite moment came after dinner. It brought us to where we are now.
During dinner we noticed a nice house across the street, and in an attempt to sleep somewhere we were going to ask them to let us set up camp in their yard. As we're about to ask this woman shouts from the parking lot, “No no no. (as they seem to do in these parts.) Go to the house next door. She's a biker.” So, we took her advice and knocked on the door of this beautiful 1913 house. That's where we met Roger and May Garland, two retired teachers from a local community college. As Roger taught film and has his photography, we couldn't have really found a more fitting couple.
Without a moments hesitation they invited us into their home to spend the night, offering food, drinks, showers, and towels. Roger just returned from a bike tour of the Underground Railroad, and was sympathetic to our needs. He's been across the U.S. four times, and has the self developed pictures to show for it. May had her first cross country trip just two years ago, and enjoys quilting in the extra time she now has. We exchanged stories and showed them the website, and you could just see the love between them. They were like two young newlyweds wrapped in each others arms. When I'm to the age of retirement, I would love to live the type of life they're enjoying right now. All in all this has been a fantastic day, and tomorrow we're starting with an old fashioned pancake breakfast. Until then, good night and good riddance. I was going to say “good night and good luck,” but that reminded me of a movie I'd never seen, so I put in an off putting way, and in to a Green Day song I've heard. I hope you're not offended. I enjoy all of you.Oh, and I almost forgot. We helped a woman get her car out of a ditch. It was pretty stellar, and she was nice, though she may reverse her car into ditches.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Scott: A Week of Partying at The Spot
This is finals week at the University of Oregon, and I was just awakened at 3:21 a.m. The only nice thing about being jolted awake at this time is the lovely descending "3-2-1" I see when I look at the clock. (What a pretty time.) I'm going to try to go back to bed now. I have work in the morning. As Jemaine from Flight of the Conchords would say, "It's' business time."
If there are any typoes in this blog posting, I'm sorry. I was just woken up at 3:21 a.m. I'm going to the bathroom. (note the clever typo in "Typoes".)
. . . 5:00 a.m. Still awake. At least I got the dishes done. Three days left. I can't wait.
If there are any typoes in this blog posting, I'm sorry. I was just woken up at 3:21 a.m. I'm going to the bathroom. (note the clever typo in "Typoes".)
. . . 5:00 a.m. Still awake. At least I got the dishes done. Three days left. I can't wait.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Stuart: Snaking Paths
I had my first major wipe out today while riding the snaking gravel paths of Waterfall Glen. Took a turn too fast. It was wonderful.
Also, I rode over a black and yellow snake and learned some lessons. It was slightly terrifying. I thought it was a stick, and the path was full of sticks, so I thought I'd just ride over it like normal, until I saw its true colors with about a foot before contact. I screamed loudly in fear that it would leap up and attach itself to my ankle that was so firmly clipped into the pedal. My adrenaline kicked in and I sped over it and felt the snake twice (front tire, back tire), cringing in fear of the attack. The adrenaline boost kept me riding pretty fast for about thirty seconds, after which I fully realized what happened and how little danger I actually was in. The poor snake probably got a little hurt, even though when I looked back, it didn't look bent out of shape. I learned a few lessons:
1. Don't ride over things that you think are sticks. Even if they are sticks, it isn't that fun, and if they aren't, its just scary.
2. If I am ever riding too slowly, all I have to do is find a way to fear for my life in order to speed up.
3. I would be perfectly willing to suck the blood and venom out of one of my friends' wounds if they got bitten. We would be blood brothers like the little boy and the Indian from the book "The Indian in the Cupboard" only more romantic, and not involve both partys' blood, or Indians.
Stuart
Also, I rode over a black and yellow snake and learned some lessons. It was slightly terrifying. I thought it was a stick, and the path was full of sticks, so I thought I'd just ride over it like normal, until I saw its true colors with about a foot before contact. I screamed loudly in fear that it would leap up and attach itself to my ankle that was so firmly clipped into the pedal. My adrenaline kicked in and I sped over it and felt the snake twice (front tire, back tire), cringing in fear of the attack. The adrenaline boost kept me riding pretty fast for about thirty seconds, after which I fully realized what happened and how little danger I actually was in. The poor snake probably got a little hurt, even though when I looked back, it didn't look bent out of shape. I learned a few lessons:
1. Don't ride over things that you think are sticks. Even if they are sticks, it isn't that fun, and if they aren't, its just scary.
2. If I am ever riding too slowly, all I have to do is find a way to fear for my life in order to speed up.
3. I would be perfectly willing to suck the blood and venom out of one of my friends' wounds if they got bitten. We would be blood brothers like the little boy and the Indian from the book "The Indian in the Cupboard" only more romantic, and not involve both partys' blood, or Indians.
Stuart
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