Psycho Cross Crusade

My First Cyclo Cross Race from Kronda Adair on Vimeo.

Ever since the first hint of chill in the air, all my racer friends have had cross on the brain. No conversation was ever completed until they had asked, "you gonna race cross?" with that special gleam in their eye. I never experienced peer pressure this heavy handed, even in high school.

With my new Surly Cross Check finally built, I no longer had the excuse of not having a bike. Besides, people do cross on all sorts of crazy rigs, including unicycles!

I bought two discount passes through my team, which forced me to admit that I was actually thinking of trying this crazy thing. And it had to be soon, before the weather gets too cold and yucky, even though for many people, mud is the whole point of cross.

The first weekend of Cross Crusade came and went without me. I was busy getting ready for my first day of school and I was still hacking up phlegm from the cold I've had for two weeks.

This weekend, the sun was slated to shine, my homework was pretty under control so I went for it. In just under two hours, I turned my mild mannered commuter into a lean mean, racing machine.

I even had a crew; Jess was off for the weekend and her friend T decided to join us. They carried my stuff, held my water bottle while I raced and of course cheered me on. It was awesome.

My training and preparation for the race consisted solely of hauling loads on Fezzik and watching a series of Bike Hugger videos with cross tips. The episode on remounting was particular helpful. I practiced a few times in front of my house and called it good.

We got there in time for me to do the registration shuffle and then take a few loops around the nearby streets to warm up. It was a weird venue, in the middle of a suburban housing development, with appropriately enough, a mental hospital nearby. One team mate posited that the race was just bait and that fences would go up before we could leave, so they could put us into little rooms and try to figure out why anyone would participate in such a crazy activity.

When I went to line up at the start about 30 minutes before race time, I saw lots of teammates further up in the ranks. Our start was somewhat delayed, and the waiting was the worst part. I tried to distract myself by ogling the cool bikes and asking my neighbor (also a beginner) for tips on dismounting. One woman had a jersey that said Alaska and with a home made sign on the back that said Palin with a line through it.

Finally a whistle blew and the women's A race was on! That's when the nerves really hit. Too late to turn back though. We had to wait some more while the B's started, then Masters 35+, Masters 45+ and finally it was our turn.

Did I mention I didn't get to pre-ride the course? Yeah, that would've been handy. But the race schedule is fast and furious. I talked to a team mate who said she never gets there in time to pre-ride so she just rides the first lap kinda slow. Well, that would probably be true of all my laps, so that worked out fine. There was nothing I could do about it, so I quit worrying. Jess and Therese had walked around a bit and Jess told me a few spots to watch out for.

The first lap, I took it nice and easy. The course had been described as 'super fun!' when I asked a few other racers about it. They failed to mention the back side, which was bumpy as all hell. It was like riding over a giant washboard. My back was rattling and I started wishing I'd brought my dual suspension mountain bike instead. Things smoothed out eventually, and after some tight technical turns on gravel, there were some pavement and grass sections where you could really open up.

Cross spectators are notoriously supportive and I enjoyed lots of personal cheers from friends and acquaintances along the course. There were a couple of guys taking themselves a bit too seriously and I'd hear them say things to racers behind me, like, "Come on, you can catch that Sorella, she's done." Whatever dude. I'm hear to have some fun and go home in one piece.

Then came the make or break obstacle-- my first run up. I dismounted ridiculously early just to make sure my foot wouldn't get stuck. The run up was crazy steep, but had some natural pockets to step in. I shuddered to think if it had actually been raining and the hill was just a mud slide. At any rate, I made it up without incident and my remount went smoother than I really had any right to expect.

A short, fast straight-away, a tight turn and it was on to my first set of barriers. It wasn't the most graceful ever, but I didn't trip--another goal checked off the list. After the barriers, there was just a few feet in which to get your act together before going down a crazy steep hill. The first lap was pretty jammed up, so the approach was even more awkward. I was actually glad I hadn't pre-ridden because then I have time to think about it and get all freaked out. Since the race was on, I just saw what was ahead and dealt with it. There's really no place for thinking in cross.

The rest of the race was lather, rinse, repeat. I definitely felt I improved with each lap, as I got to know what was coming up and got better at dealing with some of the technical stuff. Also, the field finally spread out in lap two, so I was mostly on my own, with the occasional polite, "on your left" from a high grade woman lapping me. I got kudos from fellow Sorellas who went by and even a literal pat on the back from Sarah. Luckily, I don't startle easily, and I was glad to see her. She went on to get 4th in the B race and Kim took no prisoners and took second in the Masters 35+ When she passed me, I couldn't believe how fast she was riding over the washboards. Ouch.

Oh yes--it wouldn't be cross without at least one fall--but luckily it was a totally minor spill into a nice soft mound of dirt.

I had absolutely no idea what my actual place was in the race. I definitely got passed by a lot of people, and didn't feel like I'd passed that many people. I did my best passing on technical sections and remounts, only to (mostly) get passed again on straightaways. But I didn't really care. I was having a grand time, in between hocking up loogies. Yeah, that cold isn't quite gone yet.

On the last lap, I had a couple of women in sight going down the last big hill before the finish line. I went ahead and reeled them in, just in case they might be in my category. I remembered not to sit up after the finish line, so the video camera could catch my number.

After the race, I spent a few minutes bent over heaving and trying to get air. I wasn't quite in my right mind (but that could be said of even showing up for the race I suppose), so I didn't see that Jess and T had come over to the finish to meet me. I went wandering off for a good 10 minutes, desperate to find them so I could get some water. It finally occurred to me to go back to the start line where we met up and I sucked on my water bottle like I'd just crossed the desert.

Before the race, someone told me that cross is really fun about thirty minutes after it's over. As the race got further into the past, I found I completely agreed with that statement. It was great to be done, and have survived. And I know it's not at all productive, but given my 'preparation' for the race, I was kind of ridiculously pleased with my remounts, which went swimmingly for the entire race. I think next time I need to shoulder the bike for barriers though, due to a certain lack of tallness.

As we walked back toward the car, I stopped to pet a cute black lab, who happened to be attached to a team mate I'd only met a few times. "How'd your race go?" she wanted to know.

"Good," I said. "It was my first time."

"Did you race A's" she asked.

"Um, no beginner. Did I mention it's my first time?"

"Oh, your first race ever!? Cool. But you're a mountain biker right?"

"Well, since May..."

She looked surprised at that.

"I'm really just a poser. I'm here to make the uniform look good." I joked, and she and her friends all laughed.

It's true though. I doubt I'll ever have the time or inclination to train enough to be really competitive. But it's definitely fun to go out and ride and get a great work out. Results are in already and I placed way better than I thought--25th out of 68 beginner women. Not too shabby for no training, practice or experience.

Everyone kept saying that once you do one race, "you'll be hooked!" I don't know if I'm hooked--but I guess I'll go ahead and use that second race pass. For now, I'm going to maintain that I can stop any time I want.

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Pedal Potluck Picnic

Periodically Jess gets bored with food.  It's not easy finding new things to eat when you're a vegetarian who can't eat tofu, and doesn't like mushrooms.  When that happens, she usually gets out the big three ring binder of recipes.  I get overwhelmed trying to plan new meals that she'll like so we've worked out an arrangement where she picks out recipes (with some input from me) and I cook them.  The stuff we tend to like is usually pretty labor intensive, requiring at least two hours in the kitchen.  But the results are definitely worth it.

The first of our newest culinary adventures was black bean burgers with lime-jalapeno mayo. If you'd told me a few years ago that I'd be willingly cooking with jalapeno, I would have said, "What you talkin' 'bout Willis?"  But as long as I ditch the seeds and don't go over board, I find I like the spice. 

On the day I planned to make the burgers, I happened to check the Shift list and see that there was a pedal potluck picnic that evening.  Always looking for an excuse to drag out the summer, I decided to make the patties and then go mobile with the whole dinner. I loaded Fezzik (yup, I think that's the name I'm sticking with and extra points if you get the reference :) with a camp table, two chairs, two-burner Coleman stove, and a cooler with the bean patties and a Mediterranean carrot salad to share.

We met at the Alberta Coop.  Shawn of the Urban Adventure League usually leads the rides, but he was out of town so we had a substitute ride leader. My spider sense started tingling when the first thing she did was ask everyone if they wanted to vote on the destination.  Half the fun of the PPP is not knowing where you're headed.  But  I also didn't want to go too far south if I could help it, so I voted to vote.  Her suggestion was to go see the Chapman swifts.  I was kind of hoping for that destination so I was happy.

We got a bit of a late start and the leader was from SE and didn't know the area too well so the route choice was a bit lacking.  We found ourselves crossing MLK not at a light and when Jess suggested taking the sidewalk to a cross walk, she was shut down.  When we got to the school the show was well underway and there was a huge crowd and not many spaces left.  Suddenly the ride leader turned to me. "Do you want to pick out a spot for us?"

I was surprised and a little confused.  She seemed to be pretty reluctant to make any decisions--despite that being the job of the ride leader.  I declined to take over responsibility, but after following her up a steep hill that didn't lead anywhere, I decided to just go around the block to the flat part of the lawn where there was plenty of space.  Everyone else followed.

We usually have a good time on the PPP, but this time I found the lack of leadership irritating, and there wasn't the comradery that we've experienced on other rides.  It was a pretty small group, but no one really introduced themselves until well into the meal.  On the bright side, the food was every bit as good as we've come to expect.  Shawn has really done a great job of raising the standards of mobile potluck food.  The black bean burgers came out great (even though I was rushing and screwed up some of the directions) and I had fun hauling all the stuff.

We left shortly after the ride leader started talking about how she'd quit running and started smoking.  The other woman in our group shared that her dad died of lung cancer, but it hadn't really affected her decision to keep smoking either.  You know what they say, 'if you don't have anything nice to say...'   so we left, and had a lovely ride home.

After torturing my Flickr buddies with food pics, I promised Monkeykun the recipe, so here you go:

Black Bean Burgers with Lime-Jalapeno Mayonnaise:
Makes 4 Servings

Lime-Jalapeno Mayo:
1/2 C mayonnaise of vegannaise
1 1/2 t fresh lime juice
1/8 to 1/4 t minced fresh jalapeno chile
1 T chopped fresh cilantro
Salt and pepper

Burgers
1  15 oz can black beans rinsed and drained
2  green onions (white and green parts), finely chopped
1/3 C finely diced red bell pepper
1 T chopped fresh cilantro
3/4 C dried plain bread crumbs
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 T mild or medium salsa (I used Trader Joes peach salsa)
1 T fresh lime juice
Salt and pepper
1/4 t ground cumin
1/4 C finely ground cornmeal
2 T vegetable oil (divided)
Toasted whole wheat buns

To make mayonnaise: In a small bowl, combine all mayo ingredients, salt and pepper to taste; mix well. Refrigerate if not serving soon.

To make burgers: Measure 1/2 cup black beans and set aside.  Place remaining drained black beans in the bowl of a food processor and process until pureed.  Add the green onions, bell pepper, cilantro, bread crumbs, garlic, salsa, lime juice, and salt and pepper to taste; process until well-combined.  Remove to a medium bowl and stir in the reserved black beans. Taste and adjust seasonings. Form into 4 patties.

In a shallow bowl, mix together the cumin and cornmeal.  Dredge the patties in the mixture.  Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large skillet and saute the burgers, two at a time, until golden and slightly crispy.  Repeat with remaining burgers using the last tablespoon oil.

To serve: Spread the lime-jalapeno mayo on toasted buns, add burgers and serve.

Notes:  I used half mayo and half sour cream, 'cause Jess hates mayo. Turned out great. I also used orange peppers.  Don't skip the mayo, it's delicious!

If you make these, leave a comment and let me know how it went!

Cargo Bike Gang

Thursday night, 5:23pm: My phone rings and it's Jess.

"Where are you?"

"Where are *you*?" I reply.

"You're outside stalking me, aren't you."

"No of course not. That's totally beneath me."

But of course I was lying. I kidnapped her after work and we headed down to the Lucky Lab for the 2nd meeting of the Long Tail Cargo Bike club*  Since I got the Dummy I've started getting more followers on Twitter, one of whom is Crunchy Sue.  She PM'd me earlier in the day to see if I was going, so when my sis canceled her visit, I decided to run down, even though I'm pretty tired of going to SE every day (but that's another story).

We had a fun time checking out all the different configurations of hauling machines. I thought I was small to have a Dummy, but Sue is even shorter.  She has 24" wheels to lower the bike and it seems to work great for her.  In the last batch of BD frames that came out, there were seventeen 16" frames made.  Corey said he got the email on Friday that they were available to order, and when he called on Saturday morning, there were five left.  I wonder who the other sixteen people are who got the other frames.  I was surprised the number was so small. I guess maybe they think not a lot of tiny people want to haul stuff.

We got a little distracted from our group because we ran into Janis (of PDOT fame) and spent some time hanging out and catching up with her.  She and her bf both have Long Haul Truckers, though not in the same color.  Janis has a pink accessory theme going that includes fenders, helmet and even pink Ortliebs.  It was totally hot. 

Jess and I always feel better when we meet other couples with matching bikes.  The fact that we are selling our old commuter bikes and getting new ones and they're *still* going to match is a little bit...something.  I've long since stopped caring though and I'm constantly encouraging her to 'embrace the dorkness.'   She also has a hot color theme going; blue fenders, bar tape, CK headset and bottle cages.  It won't be long before her red Ortliebs are replaced with blue ones. Anyone have a set they'd like to trade?  I don't think she's ready to ride around on a 'red, white and blue' bike--even if the election comes out like we so desperately need it to (but that's another post).

Also in Janis's party was our little friend Benjamin, whom we met at a party Janis put on a few weeks ago.  He'd grown so much since then, we hardly recognized him. He's four months old, and getting cuter by the minute.  His cheeks are just about ripe for the plucking. 

After bike-geeking, baby ogling and photo ops, we headed back to NoPo for grub and rest.  The next day, I was surprised (though I shouldn't have been) to see a front page feature on our little group on Bike Portland.  Pretty soon I'm sure the right-wing/oil industry/anti-bike pinheads will be getting together to figure out what to do about the threat of the 'Xtracycle Agenda.' Or the Gay Agenda of lesbians who ride Xtracycles. Or something like that.

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

As I left the Mac Store on 7th & Multnomah, I was congratulating myself on staying out of SE, when I got a sudden urge for sour cream pancakes from Tabor Hill cafe.  I was only about 15 minutes away so I caved, and headed south.

As I was locking up my bike, I heard someone shouting "HEY!!! HEY!" from across the street.  I didn't know if he was yelling at me, but the last time I stopped for some guy yelling hey at me, a skeevy drunk guy tried to climb onto the back of my bike, so I was disinclined to look up.

The rider, for it was a rider, eventually crossed the street and he was in fact yelling at me.  And when I turned around, I saw why:

 

Matthew has had his Big Dummy, which he named Lucy (I definitely need to find a name!), for two months.  As soon as she was built up, he headed out of Seattle and hasn't looked back.  He said he's been staying with 'redneck' relatives in Newburg and this morning he ran away in search of an apartment in Portland, where he has determined he should make his home. Duh.

In a quick bike check, we discovered we have the same bars and saddle. I meant to ask him about his brakes, which sported a monstrous rotor.  I also found out that he built his wheels himself, which gives him +20 on me in bike geekdom.  We compared tires (his Schwalbe Marathon to my Big Apples) and commiserated about the hassles of getting them properly seated on the rim.  But he did confirm my suspicion that the Marathon's were pretty much bomb-proof in his ride down from Seattle.  He asked about putting the Dummy on the bus (don't bother trying), and spoke with glee about stopping at a light, and having fifteen cyclists stack up behind him.

As he got ready to leave, a guy passed us and stopped to ask about the bikes. "This one's all yours," Matt said, and I got the feeling he's had lots of these conversations.  I gave the standard answers and suggested he go test ride at River City Bikes. As of yesterday they had one built up on the floor.  I'll be curious to see how long it lasts.

Matt, if you're reading, good luck with your apartment hunting, and be sure to check out Bikeportland and Shift.  See you on the road.

Put the Fun Between Your Legs

Reason #5398 why my girlfriend is perfect for me:

Asks to borrow the Dummy to give her coworker a ride to work. Lilia has made some noise about wanting to bike, but doesn't currently own one. Jess took the opportunity to show her what she's missing. I got up at the butt crack of dawn to record the event (and, I admit it, I had to trade bikes when they were all done. Couldn't bare the thought of the BD sitting in a cage all day, when I could be taking my own advice--see title :).


Bike Pooling from Kronda Adair on Vimeo.

Summer is Not Over

I spent yesterday in the car, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that each time I drive it, could be the last.  I went to the car wash on Broadway and got the absolute works.  The car was pretty filthy all summer, but I refused to wash it till after my two road trips.

Then it was next door to Oil Can Henry's for some lube 'n' love.  One of my worries about taking cars to the shop is their tendency to be alarmist about the condition of your vehicle, in an attempt to sell you more services.  This time my experience was the opposite. "Wow, your air filter looks great!  Your oil level looks pretty good...PVC's look fine, I wouldn't worry about them for another ____ miles. 

I don't have a clue what PVC's are, but that's just another indication that I'm probably not meant to own a car.  I've always gotten by driving other people's cars when I need one, and I don't see why that should stop now.  All those mystery parts are in such great shape because I drive about once a week or less, except for the couple of road trips I took to Mt Bike Oregon.

I should know by now that if I start out they day with three errands, it's going to take all day. By the time I got out of OCH, it was after 3:00, and I'd promised to walk a friend's dog so I went to do that.

When I got home, Jess was making dinner and I just had time to get our poor neglected road bikes ready and stuff some food in my face before we headed over to Laurelhurst park to help out with the Women on Bikes ride.

Jess hasn't ridden her roadie in about a year, and I haven't ridden mine since early this summer.  After all my load hauling recently, it was a revelation to ride something so light and fast.  Add a little tailwind and our 20 mph cruise down Ainsworth seemed effortless.  I practically floated up the hill to the park. 

Part of the reason it had been so long was that the saddles we had on the road bikes were, let's say, less than friendly to the girl parts.  Getting on them was torture within minutes.  The search for a good saddle has been going on for years.  We have a saddle graveyard in our garage of all our rejected prospects.

Lately I've been really liking the WTB Pure saddle I have on both my MTB and the Dummy.  Based on that, and lots of recommendations from bike shop folks, we're now trying out the Deva saddle, also from WTB.  Based on our first short ride, I'm cautiously optimistic.

Because we were so smokin' fast, we actually arrived on time to the ride.  There was a good group of twelve or so women gathered, but the leader never showed up.  These rides are usually lead by our friend Janis of PDOT, but she is in Seattle this week for the Pro Walk/Bike conference.  Since the sub didn't show, we agreed to lead the ride, to the relief of all the ladies in attendance.  We took a nice cruise over to Lincoln, arguably the best bike blvd in Portland, down through Ladd's Addition and over the Hawthorne bridge for a loop around the Willamette via Waterfront Park and the Eastbank Esplanade.  There were varying degrees of riding experience, so we took it pretty easy.  For one woman, it was her first time crossing a bridge on her bike.  The award for best style definitely went to the woman in pink:

As we were going down Clay St, approaching the Esplanade, we were passed by three truck fulls of lesbians who hollered at us, in a good way. "Whoo hoo, lesbians on bikes! Looking good ladies!"  Most of the group was pretty amused--one woman said she'd have be sure to tell her boyfriend about it--but I think a couple of people were a little miffed.  Of course, the women were right on at least two counts...

I was glad we were there to help out, but I confirmed that I would make a horrible full time ride leader.  I missed being able to talk to Jess, who was bringing up the rear of the group.  Also, our average speed was 7 mph, which was particularly torturous on my road bike.  In novice groups, in order for them to learn good etiquette, there's pretty much of a constant stream of yelling out every. little. obstacle. "Car back! Car up! Car left!"

I prefer a group ride with a larger element of personal responsibility where the cues are a bit more subtle.  Despite the frustrating elements, I do like to help convert newbies into excited, responsible bikers, so in that sense, I had a great time.  And once we had delivered everyone safely back to the park, we got to motor over to Pizza-A-Go-Go for second dinner.

Life with Dummy

It's been a really nice labor day weekend, except for the totally crappy, October-like weather. Our plans for Shakespeare in the park were dashed by cold and rain. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Saturday, I took Jess out for her first ride on the back of the Dummy. We went to the Little Red Bike Cafe, 1 mile from our house, for coffee. When we pulled up, a couple I had met a few weeks ago were sitting outside with their little boy who is about three and totally adorable. I introduced Jess and they wanted to know about the bike of course.

Then while we were sipping our java, another couple came up and locked their bikes up to the pole next to us. Of course I was checking out their bikes--it's a good thing my wandering eye runs to bicycles and puppies. They were both road bikes and one was a Scott, which I've been seeing more and more of lately. We struck up a conversation and it turned out they had just moved her from Utah, in part because of our great bike culture. (Probably the other part was just to escape Utah, not exactly known as a lesbian haven, but I didn't ask). We talked bike stuff, locking tips and I turned them on to a few resources. I seem to be meeting a lot of people lately who are moving here for the biking, which I love.

After coffee, it was my turn to ride on the back of the BD. It was super fun and I'll have to see if I can talk Jess into pulling me around more. Back home, we switched bikes--Jess on the Tikit and me back on my Scott--and rode over to NE to pick up a Zip truck for a few hours so we could pick up some more rocks for our yard path project. The ticket went into the truck cab and the Scott was locked up by our parking spot so I could return the truck later and ride home.

We were careful not to say that we were 'done' one we had our load, which was good because we had to go back immediately and get more stepping stones. Jess spent the evening working in the yard, while I cleaned up inside and then we watched one of our Netflix movies and Jess stayed awake for the whole thing!

Sunday, as we got ready for Shakespeare in the park, we realized it was misting. A few minutes later it was raining in earnest. We hoped it might clear up by the time we got over to SE, so I still packed up our camp chairs and blanket on the BD. I busted out the Bob trailer drysaks I was hoping to keep stored a little longer. They work perfectly on the BD, allowing you to load a massive amount of stuff and still keep it all dry--essential for hauling through a rainy Portland winter.

We rode to T & L's house and the rain was still coming down off and on. So we went to plan B, which was having lunch and visiting with them at their house. We stayed a few hours and enjoyed a delicious lunch that included a sandwich bar, watermelon, peaches, banana bread and americanos from T's new espresso machine. The only bummer was how cold I felt the whole time, even sitting inside.

When we left, we put on all our rain gear, which depressed me no end. While I waited for Jess outside Trader Joes, I watched people come and go in their flip flops and t-shirts, in defiance of the weather or maybe they just don't have any sense. I never was one of those people than can just run around in skimpy clothes when it's 50 degrees and raining.

Jess came out of TJ's with a 30 lb grocery bag and a watermelon for me to carry. She helped out by taking the bag of lettuce. Gee, thanks. :) The load was fine though, the BD takes it all in stride. By the time we got home, the little tickle in the back of my throat had become a full fledged cold. My plan to help in the yard was foiled and I spent the night shivering, despite wearing three shirts, a hat and wool socks.

The biggest bummer about getting sick, was not being able to visit Lisa and Essex on Monday, but I did get in a coffee date with Eris. I rode the Tikit over to Blend Coffee Lounge and it sat folded up next to me while I drank tea and wrote on my laptop. So quintessential Portland I can hardly stand myself. When I left, a guy followed me outside. "I'm so curious to see this!" I think he had never seen a folding bike before or knew they existed. I gave him a demo, and told him about the Bike Friday web site. It's a good thing I'm a very social person. It's kind of cool having bikes that are such conversation pieced. Though truth be told, I can have a good conversation about any bike.

The weather seems to be on the upswing for at least a week or so, and my cold seems to be running it's course fairly quickly. Jess has the next two days off and we actually have NOTHING PLANNED! It's a miracle. I'm hoping to get some boring stuff crossed off my to-do list and I've got tons of catch up to do on this blog. Stay tuned.

Bad Day on the Bike

Today was only fun in retrospect.

I decided to do the Alpine/Tire Mountain combo trail because I'd heard good things about the awesome descents amid really cool old growth forests.  I knew there would be twice as much climbing as the Alpine trail alone, so I wanted to do it on day one, before I got tired.

I slept most of the way on the shuttle ride up, which should have been a clue as to how the day would go.   Last month, when the shuttle reached the trail head, the groups for the different routes would split up and have their riders meeting.  I had just gotten my bike and had time to pee when I heard the call for Tire riders to 'meet over here.'  I saw a few straggling riders heading around the corner and hastily followed. 

I was soon dropped and riding alone on the road.  It turned out that, 'meet over here' actually meant a mile up the road at the actual trail head.  I started getting nervous that maybe they'd already left and I would miss the trail head and have to go back and ride with the other group.  I even started yelling “Hello!!!” but got no answer. 

Finally I saw the group, bunched up at Kate's cut in, the start of the trail.  By the time I pulled up, I was feeling cranky, rushed and pissed off.  Not a good start to the day. My legs already felt like lead, and my seat was way too low for the mile of climbing I knew we would do to start.  I dug around in my seat bag and fished out my tool to raise the seat.  By this time, the meeting had ended and the guides were shouting “let's go!”  The whole group headed up the steep dusty cut-in and soon it was just me and the two sweep guides.  To make things worse, the Alpine only group came up behind us.

“Come on Kronda, hurry up!” said Paul, a guide I had liked last month, but hated at that moment.

“Dammit, I'm just trying to get my shit together!” I shouted, most frustrated than ever.  I stowed my tool, with my seat still too low and headed up the trail.  The first section is steep and incredibly loose and dusty.  Though I knew what to expect and had geared down accordingly, I still didn't make it.  I got off and walked the 30 feet to where the grade became more reasonable and kept going.

I felt like I'd already ridden ten miles uphill.  My knees hurt from climbing with a saddle that was too low and I was already panting and out of breath.  But with the sweep guides breathing down my neck, I didn't feel like I could stop and rest.  To make matters worse, Paul was riding a single speed and I know from reading several people's blogs that climbing on a single speed with someone slow in front of you is pretty much torture, if not impossible. Because you only have one gear, you can't just go slower.

Paul apologized and tried to explain that he was just kidding around about rushing me but the damage was done.  I felt incredibly bitchy for pretty much the entire ride, and it was hard work not to snap when anyone said anything to me.  I probably didn't entirely succeed.

Bitchiness aside, there were some gorgeous descents that improved my mood slightly, but generally speaking, my head was not in the game. I kept thinking how if I'd done the Alpine trail, I could have spent a lot more time going downhill.  And I did a. lot. of. Walking.  When we got to the clover patch section of the trail, there are several steep switch backs that I had no chance of making in my condition.  I finally quite bothering to get on my bike between them, knowing I'd be off again in a few yards.  The rest of the 'slow group' was waiting at the top where the trail turned to double track.  I heard Paul's radio crackle.

“Are you guys OK?”

“Yeah, we're coming.”

A few minutes later.  “Paul, put it in the big ring.”

“I'm riding the gear I have.”

And again, “I'm not trying to put pressure on you, I'm just trying to get you to hurry up.”

Any shreds of good mood I may have gained from the descent evaporated at that point.  I wanted to take the radio and tell the other guide to fuck off.  But I just kept walking.  Eventually, we caught the group, and then, after all that rushing, he deigned to wait a few minutes for me to catch my breath.

The riding got a bit easier for a little while, and then everyone was off their bikes while we traversed a gravel road section with a lot of downed trees from a recent storm.  From there, we started going down again, and I fared slightly better.  At least I didn't have any falls and I didn't go off into any of the poison oak that grows rampant on the side of the trail.  I made sure to have someone point it out to me so I would know what it looked like.

I made it down the whole trail but instead of feeling stoked on the ride, I mostly just felt tired and afraid.  I'm normally OK with some exposed trails (trails that have a steep drop off to one or both sides) but today I was just done.  I was sick of feeling inches away from death (most an over-dramatization of the actual risk) and sick being afraid of the trail.  I counted the miles until we finished the single track and was actually glad to get to the gravel road that signaled the start of the 17 mile ride back to camp.  Although I couldn't relax too much on that either, because Davey, the lead guide warned us about loose sections where we could easily skid out if we didn't control our speed.

When we got to the bottom of the road, the sight of the shuttle waiting for us was about the most welcome thing I've ever seen.  We had been told in the morning that there might be a shuttle available to save us from the 12 mile pavement ride back to camp, but not to hold our breath.  But Paul had called ahead and they were waiting for us.  There wasn't room for everyone, but three people were willing to ride back to town.  I didn't care, as long as I got a seat.

On the way back to camp, Davey started talking about maybe going to the top of the Larison Rock trail—a quick 20 minute decent that ends right in camp.  Surprisingly, I found myself willing to go along with this plan.  As long as there was no climbing, I figured I'd be OK.  Plus that would put us back at camp right before showers opened up.
Larison Rock turned out to be a lot like (the grossly misnamed) Flat Creek trail—unrelenting downhill with just enough technical spots to get you in trouble.  Despite being warned about some spots where the trail gets really narrow because of people wiping out there and washing out the trail, I couldn't avoid the trap.  Just as I recognized that I was probably going a little too fast, I saw the trail get very tiny and a big pile of super fine, loose dust to the left side.  I looked at the dust, and it was all over.  A stupid, newbie mistake.  I slide into the dust and landed on my right side, just like I was sliding into home plate on a baseball field.  I was annoyed, but the damage was limited to a tiny patch of road rash on my elbow.  I got up and kept going and made it down the rest of the trail unscathed.

At the bottom of the trail, I rode directly to the bank of the river, shed my camelbak and walked in without even taking off my bike shoes.  The water was definitely warmer than last month.  That combined with the hundred degree temperature, made the dip more on the refreshing side and less a torture session for my own good.  There were several dogs playing in the water, including Sierra, the adorable German Short hair Pointer. 

After a few minutes in the river to cool down, I went to the kitchen and ran into Lauren, one of the GSP organizers.  She asked about my day of course, and I responded in my now usual grumpy manner.  “Well, would this mocha frappucino make you feel better?” she asked.

I actually perked up at that.  “It definitely couldn't hurt.”

I took the big cup she handed me and it was chocolaty and sweet.  Things were starting to look up.  From there I headed to the shower van.  When we got dropped off, my team mate was just coming out of the showers and solemnly warned me that the showers were 'boiling hot.'  And that the coolest one was on the far left.  I didn't bother telling her that a hot shower was just fine with me.  It opens up the pores.

Being clean after two days, plus the chocolate coffee goodness made me feel for the first time as though I might actually get through the day without killing someone.  Soon after I got back to camp, I got in the dinner line.  It was pizza again, which I hated last month (it doesn't survive the 40 minute trip from Eugene so well), but a few seconds in the microwave made it much more palatable.

The rest of the night I spent in limited socializing and trying in vain to rehydrate myself.  I did OK drinking during the ride, emptying my 100oz camelbak plus water bottle but then made the mistake of not drinking for a couple of hours back in camp.  I got a headache and never did shake it.  I went to bed at a fairly decent hour, hoping to sleep it off and in general, have a much better day tomorrow.

It's Just a Bike Race

Against nurses orders, I stopped taking narcotics just in time to go out for this week's Short Track race. The main goal was not to fall on my face (or any other part). As I rode out to the course, I saw a guy pushing a tall/chopper bike who seemed to be headed towards PIR. Hmmm, strange place for a freak bike, I thought.

I arrived nice and early so I could pre-ride a couple of times. For once I didn't have the sensation of freaking out before the race. The course was surprisingly sane this week. The back field was too wet to use, so no extra start loop and no gravel hill. Can't say I missed it. It was a fast course, with long gently curving grass sections, the usual tight twists, some bumpy descents but nothing really hairy. And they even left one of the logs in for the beginner race. This was no big deal, unless the person in front of you didn't clear the log and you weren't ready for it. The infield was pretty fast too. No huge ruts like last week and only one hair-pin downhill turn. All in all, a perfect course for someone who recently had teeth yanked out.

Before the race, I loaded up on some more Ibuprofen and my post-surgery antibiotic. If I do well, I'll give the credit to doping. If I do poorly, I'll blame it on doping. At the start line, there seemed to be a lot of women who had either never been on a mountain bike or were very very new to it. Beginner doesn't necessarily mean slow, however, as the woman who had never been in a mountain bike race, left the rest of us in the dust. I assume she'll be upgrading next week...

The race itself was even more fun than last week. I didn't have anyone directly slowing me down like last week, until I started passing juniors (and a few men, whoo hoo). I just took it as an opportunity to rest. I started out well, but a couple of women got ahead of me and I couldn't find another gear. I did however, finally stay ahead of Sharon (my neighbor). She already confessed to having spent the weekend doing epic rides though, so we'll see if I can repeat my performance next week (when I will be zonked from three days of MTB Oregon).

I also met my other goal, which was to get air at the finish line on every lap. Last week, the announcer started a big air/style contest and even laid down across the finish line for certain riders to jump over him. Now that's trust. The section just before the finish was a perfect lead up, down hill and then a long straight away. I couldn't really tell how high I was getting, but I was pretty sure my wheels left the ground every time. Despite this effort, I could not get any love from the announcer! I was so annoyed. He had a lot of trouble getting any air from the women last week, so I think he was just not looking, not expecting any air from the women, especially in the beginner race. I had a little chat with him after the race, and I think he'll be giving me a little more love next week.

I'd especially like to thank Rick from Seven Corners/Team Beer for yelling at me to go faster on every lap. I didn't always obey, but it's nice to have a cheering section. I made sure to return the favor.

Just before the final race of the day, there was an exhibition lap by the Zoo Bomber crew. Pictures say it better, so check out the video below:

Muddy, at last

Monday night I went out for my first mountain bike race at the PIR Short Track series. It was only the second time I've actually ridden my new MTB, which I've had for over a month. I managed one ride through Forest Park last week and that was it. So it was all or nothing. I signed up for the whole series because when else am I going to be able to ride great dirt, bumps, single track and gravel 10 minutes ride from my house? Exactly.

Earlier in the day I took my bike down to River City to get a shorter stem. While I was upstairs getting helped, there was another RC employee working on a very nice Cannondale belonging to Sue Butler. Her name sounded kind of familiar, so I figured she was pretty good. Next, I stopped by Cyclepath on the continuing search for a saddle that doesn't make me scream after 10 minutes. Bill offered me not one, but two test ride saddles and let me take them for a week. Brilliant! Why has no one ever done this before? There's no way you can really know if a saddle is going to work without some serious ride time. Especially on a MTB, there's no garuantee of keeping it unscuffed enough to return if things don't work out.

At home, I was running late, as usual and had just enough time to pop one of the test saddles on, throw on my kit and ride to PIR. Did I mention it's only 10 minutes from my house? Bliss.

When I arrived, the junior and beginner women's clinic had already started. I still needed to register, but I didn't want to miss some nugget of information that might help me survive the race. I rolled up, and who was holding court, but Sue Butler. She and another woman took us in two groups pre-ride the course.

The problem with riding the course slowly is that a lot of the obstacles require speed in order to clear them. There was literally a huge pile of gravel in the middle of the start lap. I might have freaked out about it, but I didn't want to look wimpy in front of Sue, so I just waited till everyone else was at the top and then rammed my way up. Speed is your friend.

My favorite section by far was the whoop-de-do hills, or whatever you call them. Sue showed us how to push down at the right time to increase speed. And I loved her tip for climbing more effieciently: "Boobs to the tube!" In other words, keep your center of gravity low. One thing not to do is stand up and pedal, especially not on a full suspension bike, as that is just asking for back tire spin out.

We circled into the trees and rounded a sharp corner into several very small, compact bumps. A guy blew by us and promptly crashed in the middle. "Doesn't it make you feel better to see the guys crashing too?" said Sue. "We scheduled that just for you, ladies." Then someone in our group tried it, with not much better results. Sue demonstrated and advised us to keep out pedals level while cresting the bumps, so you don't hit your pedals. But that assumes you have enough momentum to stop pedaling and still crest the bump. Easier said than done. I don't like to think too hard about technical obstacles when I'm on the MTB so I cut ahead and just barely cleared the bumps.

After that I went ahead of the group and finished the lap. I was stressing out about registering. I meant to register by mail earlier in the week but I forgot that stamps went up. I got in line with about 20 minutes to go until my race start.

I saw a young girl also in Sorella uniform and figured she must be our newly sponsored junior racer. I felt really bad about not having time to say hello and gave her a couple of smiles. By the time I finished registering, they were calling up the kiddy racers and I still had to pee and fiddle with my tire pressure. I let out too much air and then had to rush over to the Chris King booth to use their pump. And my saddle had loosened on the ride over, so I ended up stuffing my multi-tool in my jersey and running over to the start line, where everyone was already lined up. I just had time to tighten the seat and hope it was in a decent position. I stashed the tool between two fence posts and squeezed my way up into the women's field right before the beginner men were sent off.

I'd been nervous about the race for most of the afternoon, but there was no time for that now. Thirty seconds after the men, our horn sounded and we were off.

My goals in this race were, as in every race, to keep the rubber side down and have a good time. I really could care less about my finishing place, so I let most of the riders surge ahead of me on the nice wide starting straight. It was much easier to navigate the course now that the race was on and there wasn't much time to think.

I got passed by most of the women I think, but I managed to pass some little kids, so I felt good about that. On the first lap, we had to go through a lovingly hand-made mud pit. There was really no good line, so I just down shifted and pedaled like crazy and made it through. Then there was a super twisty single track section through some dirt piles and then the whoop de do hills. The tree sections had lots of sharp turns but I took it easy. When I got almost to the end of the first lap, I went through a short muddy section and up a steep hill. There was a very good course marshall (or maybe he was just a super helpful spectator), who was always yelling encouragement and helpful advice. He reminded me to quit looking down and instead look out and ahead at where I wanted to go.

I did about three laps I think. After the first lap, I just settled in and literally enjoyed the ride. I passed one woman who was walking her bike, but still moving forward. Good for her. For next week, I need to work on faster passing, tighter corners and pushing a bigger gear on the non technical areas. For the most part, I seemed to have no trouble being in the right gear at the right time.

When it was over, I felt completely toasted. My throat was on fire from the dust and I literally couldn't talk for about five minutes. My friends Simon and Laura, who came to cheer me on, came over and watched me heave and spit for a few minutes while I downed water. If I could just skip the 20 minutes or so immediately after the race, that would be perfect. After a while, I started feeling human again and could chat normally. I saw the Sport women's race go off with Sage (my Urban Assault partner) right in the mix. And I chatted with Laura, a new teammate I hadn't met yet. I didn't find Sasha (our new Jr racer) but will definitely chat her up next week, since I am now registered for the whole series (and plan to arrive nice and early!).

My bike is now appropriately muddy, which makes me very happy. I don't feel like such a poser. I'm definitely looking forward to more racing next week!

ETA: In the men's single speed race that happened just after ours, one of the racers, Colby Brooks, collapsed near the start/finish area. When I could breath again, I went over there to take pictures of the race and saw several people surrounding him and sharing CPR duty. He did not crash, probably his heart gave out, as people said he just collapsed at that corner of the track. Time seemed to slow down. It felt like they were doing CPR forever, and I didn't think he was going to make it, but the EMTs arrived and got him stabalized and he is reported to be doing well and recovering. I have to give huge credit to Mike Murray for having an awesome organized team, medical personal etc. There's a lot of second guessing going on over at bikeportland.org about whether the race should have been stopped, but as far as I can see, things were handled with minimum panic and maximum efficiency. And Colby is alive. I'm sure as far as he and his loved ones are concerned, everything was done perfectly. Get well soon Colby.

EATA (Edited Again To Add):

The results are in and I placed 11th. Not that I'm competitive or anything.

Some People Mature: Other's Just Age

Tomorrow's my birthday but I'm not quite ready for the pasture yet. Making good on a promise made many months ago, I took my bike out to Portland International Raceway for the Monday night novice women's race.

My goals were to stay upright, and to not throw up and I achieved them both.

I had no idea what kind of speed I could maintain, being much more out of shape than the last (and only other) time I tried this about three years ago. I kept up with the pack for about two laps and then started to fade. This turns out to be a good thing, since it wasn't long after that I came upon about four riders who had crashed on a turn. Most of them were already up, but Heather was on the ground moaning. It looked like she landed on her hip, and then Penny landed on her. Not good.

I stopped and we helped get her off the track. Then I rode with one of the Ironclad riders, who's leg was swelling into something epic and horrible-looking, back to the start, where she could see the medic. I had heard her talking to the medic earlier and saying something like, "I hope not to see you again." Total jinx.

Penny decided that's it for her racing career. She said she saw her summer "flash before her eyes," of not being able to ride and it wasn't worth the risk. I can't say I blame her. I will go back, but I have a tendency to drift towards the back of the back to avoid just such mishaps. I suppose surging to the front would also be a safe option, but that's not physically possible at this time. Maybe by the end of the summer...

Jess and her friend T came out to watch and took a couple of pictures. The weather at least, was perfect, cooling down from an 80 degree peak with cloud cover moving in. After my escorting duty was done, I kept riding until the women's race was over, which gave me a total of five laps, just one shy of the real race. I was happy to discover that I actually got faster as the race went on. I think I will do a longer warm up next time.

Tomorrow will be low-key as birthdays go, filled with catch up studying, drawing live nude girls in art class and dropping off ballots. But there will be Cold Stone. Can't let the day be totally boring (not that live nude girls is boring). But Jess did take me to the beach this past weekend where we had superb weather and the nicest hike I've been on in a while. Head on over to my Flickr page and check it out.

Whipped

It's been a good day so far. We pondered getting up and doing the weekly Sorella team ride this morning, but Jess only has one day off this weekend and I have just been tired. Instead we slept in and barely hauled ourselves out of bed around 10am. After smoothies and scrambled eggs, we decided we'd better get outside after all. Today was bright and sunny with temps in the low 40's. Not exactly warm, but for December, it's pretty darn good and days like this don't come around very much.

Jess pumped up the tires on the roadies and then came the agonizing about what to wear. I went with wool socks, shoe covers, shorts, tights, arm warmers, long sleeve jersey, wind vest and wind-proof shell, topped up with my Smartwool beanie. My smart wool gloves with mountain bike gloves over them have been working better than I ever expected. I knew I'd probably be a little cold, but bulky gloves and road bikes don't go very well together.

Jess's Sugoi hooded jersey was in the wash, so I loaned her my short sleeve wool jersey and she put tank top base layer, long sleeve shirt and wind vest, along with shorts and full length leg warmers. It was a full hour between having the idea and getting out the door, but we finally hit the road shortly before 1:00.

It was chilly, but the sun helped and I was pretty happy with my clothing choices. My hands were cold immediately, but a few windmills with my arms at stop lights and they revived. Jess was not so fortunate. I swear all the blood in her body just stops at her shoulders and thighs. I'm not against keeping the core warm, but share the love for crying out loud. Growing up in Wisconsin, I'm still not sure how she survived to adulthood.

We headed south from our house, down Interstate to the Esplanade and then east on Hawthorne to Harrison and up to Mt Tabor. Jess wanted to snack after we climbed Mt Tabor, but I suggested doing it before so we wouldn't climb and get all sweaty, and then stand around in the shade just before making a frigid decent. My plan sort of worked, but we weren't counting on the steady headwinds from the north. We were assaulted pretty much constantly and the whole second half of the ride we were pretty much frozen.

We came down Mt Tabor and headed north and through the golf course with a stop at one of our favorite little shops just off Sandy. We stayed there long enough to partially thaw out but the rest of the trip was pretty chilly for both of us.

Still, I was really glad to get out for a long ride, something I haven't done since the end of September. I was in serious danger of spending the entire day in a somewhat zombified state. The ride woke me up and got my blood moving, although now I'm really tired and sore. Out of shape much?

As soon as we got home, we peeled off our layers with frozen fingers. I headed straight for the shower, but Jess had to thaw her hands and feet some before subjecting them to hot water.

Shortly, we're headed out to a party at my long lost cousin's house. It will be good to see some family all together. I suspect it will be loud.

From the Jaws of Defeat

Welcome to part three of "How to get your mind off your dead mom."

Fittingly enough, I reverted back to a time honored sanity tool--my bicycle. Normally, I would not have ventured out into the utter crap that was the weather on Sunday, but I had already agreed to help lead the Meet the Team ride for Sorella.

The ride is just what it sounds like, a chance for new comers to go on a ride and find out what our team is all about. In a shocking turn of events, I arrived about 20 minutes early, having decided at the last minute to burn some fossil fuels and drive. I don't normally drive to the start of rides, but I had a social gathering nearby afterwards and didn't really want to A) sit around in wet gear for 2 hours or B) carry all my dry clothes on my back for the whole ride. It's hard enough to keep up with ladies as it is, even when they're in 'leisure mode' as we were that day.

Hey, maybe no one will show! I thought hopefully. But alas, I wasn't let off the hook that easily. When I came out of the bathroom, another cyclist was in line for coffee. We introduced ourselves and I went to get my bike off the car and gear up.

By the time I came back, more Sorella's had showed up. Kim Reuter, Deb, Michelle, & Colleen. Sarah T came screeching up at the last moment and pulled a gorgeous red fixie out of her trunk. We had four hardy souls show up to meet our team; Kristin, whom I'd met inside the bakery, Sandra, Annie and Rachael.

We set off to the south, bound for a loop down to Oregon City and back up on the west side.

In spite of the constant rain and the 52-feels-like-41 tempurature, I actually had a good time. Good company makes all the difference. And so does good gear. This was my first real test of my new Showers Pass rain jacket and it performed beautifully. My Sugoi Mid-zero tights have seen worse weather so my legs were pretty comfy. Even my hands and feet stayed on the right side of the mercury, despite 40 minutes or so spent waiting due to mechanical incidents. One more pair of socks and I would've been completely comfortable.

Kim won the thrifty and clever award for her light wool liner gloves covered by dish washing gloves. Yup, the long yellow kind your mom wore while she washed up before you had a dish washer. She said they worked great.

We stopped in Lake Oswego for a nature break and as we stood outside waiting, Kim said to me, "Kronda, your face is all brown."

"Yeah, that's normal Kim," I couldn't help dead panning.

Somewhere in the course of the day, I'd gotten friendly with a large amount of grease and dirt from somewhere. My brand new jacket was covered with it and too much fiddling with my glasses and rubbing my face had left me looking like a football player about to hit the field. I was glad I couldn't see it.

We headed through Lake Oswego and into Tryon Creek state park, down the cemetery, across the Sellwood bridge and back on 17th--after trying to take the Esplanade and running smack dab into a wall of people doing a walk for diabetes. Sandra suffered a flat in the middle of the ride and we played a game of "How many cyclists does it take to change a tire?" Colleen finally succeeded in getting the tire--which seemed to be glued to the rim--off. Someone put the tube in and after a CO/2 fiasco, I volunteered to pump it up using Rachael's Road Morph pump. When she flatted again less than a mile later, she was was ready to call her husband to come get her but Sarah T convinced her she could fix it and proceeded to do so. After some waiting and wandering, we all ended up back together for the ride down the cemetery and across the bridge.

We were on Milwaukie just blocks away from the end point--we could practically smell the coffee--when a Union Pacific train blocked our path. I raised my arm defiantly and shouted, "Damn you, Union Pacific! Damn you!" which made the others laugh. We made it back and Kim declared bagels and coffee courtesy of the team. After changing clothes and washing the grease off my face, I hung out with the others for a while enjoying a well earned breakfast.

After that I headed off to the Yarn Garden a few blocks away for a stitch 'n' bitch gathering with a few friends. The idea was Danette's brain child, a way to literally 'knit' us back together after hectic summers spent running every which way. She even found the Red Scarf Project to give our knitting focus.

I showed up late, but not too late to get some yarn, get a quick reminder on how to crochet--I decided to go with crocheting since I'd done it before and the work goes quicker--and catch up with what was new in everyone's life.

All in all I'm pretty impressed with how I snatched a pretty good weekend from the jaws of defeat.

We're not alone

Today was packed full of activities and socializing. I got up early and headed down to River City Bikes to lead the women's ride as part of my volunteer duties for Sorella Forte. The nice thing about leading is not having to wonder where the ride will go and also being able to plan a nice lazy route with basically no hills. We spun our way through north Portland, along Marine Drive, around to St Johns and back to the shop via Willamette Blvd and Greeley for free espresso.

I was hoping to find replacement pads for my aero bars at the shop but they were out. Fortunately downtown Bike Gallery had some, so I jetted across the bridge before heading home. The odometer was close to forty miles by the time I pulled up to the house.

There was just time for a quick shower and then it was off to meet Maureen at LRBC. Luring new people there gives me an excuse to loiter even more than I normally would which is great for my tummy and not so great for my wallet. But the food is just sooooooo good and today Ali's mom was helping out by putting her foot into some biscuits and gravy (meat or veggie style). I can't have my own mom's cooking anymore, but Madeline's will do nicely for not-so-sloppy seconds.

While we were there, we met Deanne and Jonathan, weekend regulars (three weeks and they already have regulars!). Jonathan had a Dell laptop and Deanne had a Macbook, which caused Ali to inquire about how their relationship worked out, having different operating systems and all. Turned out J was running Linux, which upped his cool factor considerably. Deanne had chosen her Mac for work-related compatibility. I assured Ali from my own experience that bi-OS relationships can in fact work very well, as Jess and I can attest.

I had noticed the matching yellow helmets behind their laptops when I walked in, but I didn't really think much about it until I walked out of the shop and saw this:


I practically ran back inside to their table. "You guys have matching bikes! You're bike dorks!" They grinned sheepishly and I explained that they are the first couple I've seen sporting the dork matching bike style. I left the shop shortly after, but ended up calling to get their email address before they left so I could send them pictures. I felt like I'd found our people. Maybe we can all go on the Twin Ride for next year's Pedalpalooza.

Later on I met up with a couple of friends for the revival of the WBP. That's the Weird Black People. It's the closest I've gotten to 'fitting in' somewhere. Yes, we're still black but we just don't do things quite like the others. For instance, you might find us camping, cycling, swimming..all things you won't find the "normal" black folks doing...at least in our neck of the woods. When's the last time you saw black woman doing Cycle Oregon? Yeah, I thought so.

We hung out and caught up for a couple of hours at the Nutshell vegan restaurant, the newest G-spot in north Portland. That's gentrification, get your mind out of the gutter! I really wanted to finish the evening by heading to Live Wire to see Storm Large perform, but alas, my tummy, which was still full from the biscuits and gravy, decided that I should really go home and sit still.

Besides, I have to get up for work tomorrow--managing the rest stop for the Bike to the Future ride put on my the good folks at Good Sports Promotions. The mountain bike fund is looking better and better.

Summer Weekend

This weekend has been just the right mix of relaxing, socializing and squeezing the last juicy bits out of the summer. Saturday we biked to the Equinox for a scrumptious breakfast with T & L. After that, it was off to northwest for a quick stop at the picnic put on by Jess's coworkers. I got to meet her boss, who thinks we're insane for riding around Crater Lake, having visited just after we did. And there were a number of cute babies from one month to one year. We spent some time chasing after the one year old, who had just learned to walk and got some baby cheek and baby tummy--always a delicacy.

We had a nice built in excuse to leave early, since we had to report for volunteer duty at the Bike Film Festival. We're attempting to start doing more stuff on-the-cheap and I have a feeling we'll be doing a lot of volunteering this winter. We showed up for our bike parking shift, but there was a surplus of volunteers and not a lot of bikes, so Nate invited us to go in and watch the 1:00 show. We saw a series of short, amusing films and two longer films about people collecting bikes to send to villages in Africa, where simple two-wheeled transportation can radically change the quality of life.

When our program was over we checked back in, but the bike parking was still under control so we helped out with Will Call and selling tickets during the brief rush before program 5. The volunteer coordinator gave us free popcorn and we got an unexpected $1.50 in tips! Then we went back in to watch the film I really wanted to see which was Klunkerz. It's a documentary of the origins of mountain biking, invented unknowingly by crazy guys and one girl in Marin county who kept modifying old bike frames from the 30's to ride down Mt Tamalpais. It was interesting to see the development, especially since I've been recently converted into a MTB enthusiast. Jess just kept saying throughout the movie, "Don't get any ideas."

After the movie, we had some time to kill before meeting up with T, another friend of Jess's and T's girlfriend for dinner. We used the time to walk up and down 21st and scout out possible places to eat. We actually managed to find a few reasonably priced options. NW is such an eclectic mix of bohemian hipp and upscale urbanite that it makes for great people watching.

As we passed by the Blue Moon bar, a guy yelled out to me, "Hey, you were singing that time!"

"Which time?" I asked. Well, it turns out he was one of the three people going by 200 Market St last week when I sat in with Steph. He complimented me, then proceeded to hit on both of us and invite us to join him for a beer. We're pretty sure he was hoping for a threesome and hastily excused ourselves and kept walking. From then on, I kept making reference to my 'adoring fan.'

Further down the street we saw this VW Bug with a green house built into the side, a bathtub strapped on the front, a bed on top and a bike strapped to the back. It was just. so. Portland. Click the photo to see more close up pictures.

We had a nice Indian dinner at Swagats, with T & D, despite a few stories that took me down flashback lane. D is also a nurse and shared a lot of work stories, including a woman who came in because of a fall, but eventually it came out that she has breast cancer that has come back and spread to her lungs and liver. "When the doctor said he'd check it in three months, she and the family just nodded as if that made perfect sense, but she'll probably be dead by then. There was just this total..."

"Denial?" I put in. "Yeah, I'm familiar." Which necessitated an explanation and I was surprised how calm I was. After that D & Jess took off sharing work gripes about nursing in general and their hospital system in particular. I told T, we're obviously going to have to figure out what we have in common so we'll have something to talk about when our girls go off on a rant.

It was just getting dark and the evening temperature was perfect for our uphill ride home, which we took at a leisurely pace and then spent the evening watching the rest of our season two episodes of Weeds.

Today we headed down to the Muddy Boot organic festival to see Dirty Martini and Stolen Sweets perform. It was a Lara double feature as she traded her guitar for a microphone and came right back on stage for her set with the Sweets. We haven't seen them in a while and they're still in fine form. They're gearing up for a European tour next March and I'm sooo jealous. We toured the booths and saw all kinds of sustainable practices from water purifiers to earth floors, organic produce delivery, cargo bikes and more. The festival strived to be a no-waste event. Compost and recycle bins were staffed by volunteers to make sure things went in the right bins and every material used by vendors was made of recycled materials, right down to the spoons and cups made of corn starch. I love Portland.

As the Sweets wrapped up their set, I turned to Jess. "Well baby, what do you want to do after this?"

"Oh, just look around a bit and take off. What do you want to do?"

Pause.

"It's really hot today."

She started to laugh. "Which ice cream shop are you wanting to visit today?"

Yeah, I've been an open book in this relationship since about the third week. So we left and climbed the hill up Harrison ever so slowly in our granny gear at 4 mph. The reward was Cold Stone ice cream. I went for something new and tried the 'All lovin', no oven' combo which included cake batter ice cream, cookie dough and whip cream. Man, was it good.

The heat and the wind, which had been relentless all day, totally sapped us. We took our time pedaling home and then napped on the couch for a while, then grilled chopped veggies and corn on the cob on the back deck.



Tomorrow: fence building: part 2.