Things Cool People Do

I love reading about things that cool people do. Cool people find ways to improve other people's lives. I just found a timely example on another local bike blog, "Breakfast On Bikes." I'm happy to forward it on as well. If you're within shoutin' distance to Salem, this announcement applies to you!


It doesn't take us long to imagine the challenges a young adult faces, transitioning from foster care, taking one more step toward personal independence. This kind of transition can't be easy. Having the freedom and mobility that come with owning a bicycle would certainly be a huge help.  Cool people are seeing to it that this happens.


Wanna be cool? Yeah, me too! If you have usable, fixable bikes, bring them down to the Bike Peddler Saturday morning (December 4) between 10am and noon.  Also, let's bring helmets, locks, and monetary donations.

Almost Unstoppable

I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about my brakes when I ride. I just sort of take for granted that any time I squeeze the handle, it pulls a cable which in turn pulls a caliper-thingy, which causes some rubber blocks to rub tightly against the sides of the wheel, and I slow down.  Happens every time...well, so far.

It’s good that I looked closer at my brakes the other day. Yeesh. The back brakes were fixin’ to disappear altogether. I pulled out an old brake block and compared it to a new one in a picture. The brake shoe is almost precisely the same width as the block on the right, which means the shoe was almost scraping against the wheel. Just like an automobile, metal-against-metal is what you don't want to have happen with your brakes.  Especially in winter conditions, it’s important to know your brakes will stop you when you need them to.

I shudder to think about what might have happened with some of the speeds I’m pulling. I’m not a super-lightweight person, so when I’m screaming downhill I definitely have gravity working overtime. Let’s just say that I could relate when later that day I went to the movies and watched Denzel Washington and Chris Pine try to stop a runaway freight train!  By the way, I highly recommend that movie, but I digress....

Pie Days

My folks love hosting Thanksgiving

The Thanksgiving gatherings were wonderful, memorable, and yes, calorie-infused. We made some wonderful connections with friends and family all weekend long, and with all the usual culinary delights, too. My weakness: pie.  

When I see a pie on the dessert table, game over. When I see multiple pies, I feel a sense of duty to taste each one, and compliment each and every pie-maker on their outstanding accomplishments.  You can never go wrong complimenting a person on their pie-crust. I like the way pies are lovingly put together. I don't think it's possible to be a sour person and be a good pie maker. 

That’s why pie=love.

If there happens to be any pie left over, I’m there to take one for the team.  One pie, that is. You know what I'm saying...a little a la mode, a cup of coffee, voila--the perfect breakfast!  

As far as I’m concerned, anybody who has not had the opportunity to rationalize pie for breakfast has not pursued a full and meaningful life.

Nat is an excellent pie maker

Mrs C's pie crusts are to-die-for

The problem of course is that at some point, all the pie runs out. What a sad feeling when that happens. There’s nothing quite like the wistful, melancholy sound of the “no-more-pie sigh.” For me, this low moment is usually accompanied by the awful realization that my pie diet has changed my body’s response to earth’s gravitational pull.  

You never hear about bestseller diet books touting the virtues of eating pie. I don’t know why that is...you can certainly find several food groups represented in a good pie.  Well, at any rate, my pie-eating days are on hold until Christmas.

Right after I enjoy this one last piece.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

Do We Have What We Want, Or Do We Want More?

Thanksgiving has become just a little more complicated in recent years.  It’s not as clear to me anymore if I’m supposed to peel potatoes on Thursday morning, or go shopping for bargains. Now that several stores are open for me on Thanksgiving Day, I’ve got some choices to make...do we still observe the holiday, or just go shopping, or maybe do both? Black Friday has created its own weather system over the years, and let’s face it, Thanksgiving has become Black Friday Eve.

It’s a strange pairing of events. Thanksgiving centers around an elegant idea: we offer thanks to God and each other for all that we have--seeing the abundance of the truly necessary things in our lives. Black Friday puts us in touch with our insatiability as consumers, showing us what we don’t have but should want.  And it’s on sale, but hurry. 

I guess I’m worried about which event seems to be overshadowing the other.

T-Bone, Nat, and G

Mrs. C and I have three amazing young people in our family who happen to fit the demographic that is most constantly bombarded by consumerism. Our job as parents is to help them to be wise about how to respond to the swirling messages that come at them on this long weekend. Maybe we’ll all figure out a way to use this time well, and to learn to be satisfied even if we don’t have the latest, greatest stuff. To be fully present in our interactions with friends and family, enjoying the gifts of relationships.  Sure, we can also go out and have fun shopping too, but let's not take it too seriously.  Besides, kids, you don't have any money.  :)

If we do this right, there’s a chance that when the weekend is behind us, we’ll have accumulated a whole lot of great memories.  They tend to last longer than the gadgets anyway.

A Moment Of Refuge

November Scene at Ankeny Wildlife Refuge

Our son G is already home for Thanksgiving, taking a much-needed break from his very challenging teaching position in Mississippi. We’re glad his school has the whole week off so that he could relax a bit prior to the holiday festivities. Soon T-Bone will be here too, and for two days we will have all three kids together. Two days...that’s it. Our empty-nester friends have described this scenario to us so we sort of saw it coming. They have told us to take advantage of every minute you have with your kids while they’re in town, and then take heart in knowing that they love you and need you to still be their parents wherever they happen to be.  And, yes, they actually can still help with the dishes when we get up from the table.

Mrs C and G at Ankeny

G and me

So today after the dishes were done, G, Mrs. C and I decided to throw on our warm clothes and head outside. Nat was happy to let us go on without her. We decided to ride out to the Ankeny Wildlife Refuge. Because there’s a hefty hill between here and there, Mrs. C opted to load her bike in the car, drive and meet up with us at the Refuge. This proved to be helpful for our return trip home, and gave G and me a chance to ride hard on the way out.

G’s bike had a little gear trouble going up the climbs on Liberty Road, but once we reached the top, it was all about the descent into Ankeny. Our speed increased into the mid-thirties when he made the first move to pass me. Using my top gear I pushed out ahead of him, just enough to regain my lead. His gearing was stuck, so he had only one strategy, which actually worked.  He tucked down into a tight aero position, pulled behind me and drafted right off my back wheel. At the final curve he took an inside cut and slingshotted past me while staying in his tuck. A fleeting moment of fun, made more special because of its rarity. 

Eagles are frequently seen at Ankeny

The serenity of the Ankeny Refuge greets you immediately at the bottom of the hill. It quiets you and forces you to pay attention to a different pace, a different set of scenes and sounds. Nature takes over and there’s so much going on.  During the winter months, visitor access to the Ankeny Wildlife Refuge is more limited in order to allow birds to conserve their energy and enjoy a little, well, refuge. Still, we had no problem seeing and hearing the Canada Geese out on the meadows and in the open air. These large birds were miniaturized by a great egret flying across the plain, huge and stately with its long neck and dazzling white wings against the gray sky. We got back on our bikes and rode south; along the way a bald eagle watched us from its perch overhead, remaining just long enough for me to snap a few shots as it flew away.  From the viewing kiosk we could see ducks and snow geese dotting the marsh. We spotted a fox sitting out in the meadow, quietly waiting and watching.

View from Eagle Marsh Kiosk

We might have gone farther but we were suddenly being pelted by a cold, sideways rain.  We made a B-line back for the car, flipped down the back seat and threw all three bikes in with no problem. Thank you, Honda.

On our way back home, Mrs. C commented on how nice it is to have a place like this so close to where we live. Yes, and how nice it is when we have our kids so close, too.

Cool Ridings

Willamette River from the Union Street Bridge

Today’s short ride was mostly about just getting on the bicycle and having fun, but it was also just chilly enough this morning to pull out the cold weather riding gear.

The first time of the season when you pull on the super-clingy under-armour and full-length tights, you forget what you’re going to see when you walk past the mirror. Yikes. I knew I should not have eaten that pizza last night. Thankfully, adding an additional layer of clothing helps. Whew!

Toe Happiness Units

Cyclists’ toes tend to freeze when we ride in cold weather. I've tried extra socks but that doesn't help. Original toes are really expensive to replace, so to preserve my original set of ten, I just bought a pair of those foot warmers that you can put on over your cycling shoes.  I can tell already, this is going to be a good purchase. $44.99...less than five bucks per toe!

Fingers like to freeze in the cold weather as well; it helps to have closed-finger riding gloves, the kind with some padding for your hands.  It also helps to change hand positions more frequently in cold weather riding.

Shortly into the ride, I was taking mental notes of how to prepare better for the next chilly ride. If it was any colder today, my jacket would not have done the job. I’ll need to figure out what to do about that. Cold air does a number on my ears, too. I’ll need to dig into the winter clothing and find that headband.

Union Street Bridge

After crossing the river on the Union Street Bridge, I had a little time to climb the West hills a bit before meeting my sweetie for coffee downtown. It feels more winter-like than fall-like now. Most of the leaves are down. Winter light provides a completely different sensation than summer sun, it puts you in a more reflective frame of mind, I think. 

Probably the biggest benefit to riding on colder days is just getting out of the house to enjoy some fresh air.  Maybe you don’t worry so much about logging so many miles or moving so fast down the road...maybe you just concentrate on staying warm and having some fun.

The Love Connection

I mentioned in a recent post that Mrs C came from Sandpoint, Idaho. Ever been there? If so, you’re probably picturing the view as you enter town on the long bridge that crosses over the impressive Lake Pend Oreille.  Maybe you’re recalling Schweitzer Mountain, offering some outstanding winter recreation just outside of town. For me, I truly enjoy the scenery, but mostly I picture the people I’ve gotten to know there over the years.

My first visit to Sandpoint was in 1980, just months after the future Mrs C and I started seeing each other in college. It was my first time meeting her family...and family friends. From that point on, each successive visit introduced me to more of the wonderful people who have been so influential in Mrs C’s life.

One of the first all-time greats I met in Sandpoint was Marianne Love, her former teacher, advisor, and friend.  Just last week I heard from Marianne; she has always been a fantastic writer and keeps a very active and interesting blog.  As a teacher Marianne had great insight and interest in the lives of her students, and still carries that interest forward today.  I’ve heard a few stories from Mrs C about “M Love” and the dance team, yearbook, and general high school antics...my favorite story has to do with a bus trip, a flag pole, and an uber-large brassiere. You can fill in the spaces to create your own rendition from there. You get a glimpse of Mrs C’s mischievous side when she tells that story.

Marianne’s blog keeps a finger on the pulse of North Idaho life, in a very interesting and energetic style. She gives readers a very good sense of the people who make up this community. I’ll be adding a link to "Slight Detour" from my page in case you’re interested in clicking there occasionally.

We all should be so fortunate to have had teachers who made a significant impact on our lives. It’s clear that Marianne Love certainly did...and still does.

What A Difference In One Week

Last Saturday on the ride out to Silverton, I stopped at EZ Orchards and snapped a picture of the fall foliage just outside their store.  Good thing I didn't wait...

November 6

November 14

The Weather Outside Might Possibly Become Frightful

The big news yesterday in Oregon was not about trade agreements or a change in political leadership. It wasn't even about BCS rankings or the newest retailer to hit the area. Think bigger. That's right...it's the weather. If the computer projections are correct, and if for the entire next week the weather goes exactly as planned, there’s a hint of a possibility of a chance of a notion that we might have some snow! Now, Matt Zaffino may be telling us to not get too excited just yet, but he knows once you utter the "S" word around here, you can't take it back.

The media folks up in Portland know I'm a sucker for this stuff. Once the possibility is strong enough, news crews will mobilize with coverage at a level that can only be described as “shock and awe.” News has to sell, and news of cold weather is always the hottest ticket in town. It's usually pretty much focused on Portland; Salem will get an occasional mention on tv, and maybe a live feed from a camera pointed at the Capitol building. Never mind, we still all tune in.

Because the news stations compete for our attention, they all make up names for weather events like “The Big Chill” and the local favorite, “Arctic Blast.” All the while, we are out-of-control consumers of this stuff.  I for one like to bounce through all of the stations so that not one but four teams of reporters can tell me what’s going on around a town I no longer live in. Reporters and their remote camera crews will jockey for position on the overpasses around Portland, giving live transmissions every 15 minutes. We get updates us on the snow they see, the snow they saw three minutes ago, or sometimes, the snow that never materialized. 

When that first snowflake actually arrives, it's on. Life as we know it ends. News anchors will condense the national news down to tiny sound bites, and local coverage will shift entirely to the weather. They will open up their phone lines and let us all call in to describe what our patio furniture looks like when it’s snowing. Better yet, we take pictures of the garden hose that's frozen because we forgot to put it away, and proudly email them into the tv stations so everybody else can see it too. Funny how kids get up earliest on the days they might not have to go to school, watching the ticker scroll across the screen. Every kid's nightmare: most districts close but theirs is the one that says, “Buses on snow routes.”

I'm poking fun, but there is a serious side to our situation in Oregon.  When the snow and ice combo hits this area just right, it’s really bad. We have been known to have epic traffic jams when we're not prepared. The ice usually is wet on top, which makes it extremely hazardous to get around town. Or even up the driveway.  You may have seen this video...it was shot in the Portland hills a few years ago during a particularly bad episode. The truth is that it just doesn’t happen this way very often, nor does it last for very long.   Speaking of snowy videos, I woudn't be true to my inner cyclist if I didn't share one of my holiday favorites.

Mrs. C doesn’t understand why we all make such a fuss over the first snow. I’ve learned to forgive her for getting on with her life like it’s just a normal day. It’s not her fault, really. She's from Sandpoint, Idaho, where it's not unusual have several feet of snow through the winter. Up there, it’s a good idea to have friends with snow plows and blowers.  She looks at me like I’m some kind of alien when I've thrown my flannel shirt on, heading outside to shovel the half inch of slush off the sidewalk. She just doesn't get me sometimes.

The Oregon economy counts on folks like me. We are the engine that powers one of the greatest days of the year for local merchants. Maybe it's not as big as Black Friday, but because of yesterday's news, today will become Snow Preparation Saturday, regardless of whether it actually snows next week or not. We’ll all be hitting the stores gathering “provisions.”  Les Schwab will be swamped with folks putting on their snow tires and buying chains. We'll go to Safeway and buy up all the hot cocoa, soup, microwave popcorn, and bargain dvd’s. Then we'll head over to Target and spend the rest of our wad on hand warmers, ice scrapers and Snuggies (in case we don't find the ones we bought last year). All of this, because it might...perhaps....possibly....snow.

For the next seven days we will glue ourselves to our television sets, watching the latest developments from the Sylvan Overpass.  

We don’t want to miss a thing.

The Class Of 2004

I was wondering what I might do to honor veterans today, and that led me to remember Robert. I'd like to share his story.

In the fall of 2004 Robert Mathews and his wife contacted me at Milwaukie High School, back when I was an Assistant Principal there. They wanted to know if he could get his high school diploma. Like so many other teenage boys in the early 1950’s, Robert had left school before graduating, and entered into military service. Their older brothers and uncles had served in WWII, and a sense of duty and honor remained strong well after that war had ended. Fifty years later, after he’d returned from service in the Navy during the Korean War, Robert finally came back to high school. With his wife there by his side, he came in to my office to see if he could take care of some unfinished business. 

I was suddenly in the middle of a profound moment. I realized what it must have taken for Robert to come back to the high school he had left so long ago, to be this vulnerable, and to say, “I need closure.” I got the feeling that this was something he'd kept secret for a long time, and perhaps felt some embarrassment that he had never become a high school graduate. His request came across with such sincerity and respect, even though he could have just come in and demanded his diploma from me. It was a weighty moment. Simply by the manner in which he approached me, he had intentionally placed me in a position of authority to make a determination, as if he would accept my decision as final. I knew I had to step up and be this man’s vice principal.  I’ll never forget that feeling.

Robert made some sort of crack about his grades in high school, and how the Dean of the school thought the military might be a better option for him. True or not, just watching him smile and tell the story brought some lightness to the moment.  After the Korean Conflict was over, Robert came back home and built a life together with his wife and children. He worked hard running a successful small business and recently retired. He put his family’s needs ahead of his own education for his whole adult life, and now it was finally time to do something about that.

Oregon lawmakers passed a law that directs high schools to confer diplomas to veterans who stepped away from high school for wartime service, and who were honorably discharged.  A quick review of Robert’s school transcript and the discharge papers Mrs. Mathews had in her hands, it was clear: Robert was going to get a diploma. The smiles were accompanied with glistening eyes, no words needed.

It would take a bit of time for us to prepare the diploma, and we had hoped to have a little ceremony of sorts at the school. They both agreed to that, and said they would contact me with some possible dates so that family could attend. Robert was having some tests and a possible surgery later on, and they decided to wait until his health was a little better.

In mid-December I got another call from Mrs. Mathews, who said she didn’t think Robert was going to be getting any better. His health was failing now, and he had become housebound. There was some urgency in getting the diploma to Robert soon, and since coming down to the school wasn’t going to be an option, she wondered if we could just mail his diploma to him. That didn’t feel right to me. I asked if I could visit the house and present it to him. She didn’t want me to have to go to all that trouble, but I insisted that mailing it was too impersonal, so she said that I could come in person. Then I asked if the school’s choir could come and sing for Robert. I knew in advance that there was a day they'd be out performing in the community, so I was hoping it would work. She agreed the choir could sing, but was worried they might not all fit in the living room. We decided they could sing from the driveway, and Robert could listen from the front porch.

On the last school day in December, we came to the house and were greeted by some of the neighbors who had taken time off from work for this.  They wanted to let us know how special this was for them; they wanted to see Robert graduate. They were so proud of him!  We rang the doorbell, the door opened, and Robert and his wife appeared together. Robert was hooked up to his oxygen and relying on his walker to stand.  Though smaller and weaker now, he had prepared all day for this moment.

The kids in the choir understood what they were witnessing, and in their semi-circle formation in the driveway they sang some holiday favorites beautifully. The neighbors all clapped, and then we got down to business.

I’d practiced in the car on the way there.  It was my first-ever graduation speech: “On behalf of the school district and Milwaukie High School, we are proud to confer this diploma to Robert, who has earned it through a combination of successful academic course work and life experiences, on this day of December 17, 2004.” 

After the customary applause and pictures, Robert held up his diploma, and his voice broke with emotion as he said, “This completes my life.”

Those words took the breath right out of me. I was glad for the noise of the cheering and applause from everybody else at that moment, because it covered up the loud, uncontrollable sob that came up and out of my throat. Tears streaming hot down my face, this experienced pierced my heart as an educator. In a small way, I had done something to honor this veteran, something he had waited for for a long time. This was such a privilege.

Mrs. Mathews timed Robert's graduation well; his health continued to worsen and he passed away a month later.

Every graduation is special, and we celebrate every graduate’s unique set of accomplishments. I’m just so glad Robert got to finally enjoy that feeling.

Happy Veterans Day, Everybody!

A Fall Ride To Silverton...And More!

The timing could not have been better for a bike ride in the Willamette Valley yesterday. The weather got better and better as the day went on, and the fall colors were fantastic. The cool, damp air made being outdoors feel really good. A few miles of pedaling and the stress of the past week just fell away. Destination: Silverton, a cool little town not far from Salem. I snapped a few pics during the ride...click on them, they enlarge nicely.

Along the way there was a fun cyclocross event going on at EZ Orchards on the Northeast corner of Salem.  Little kids were playing in structures made of hay bales while their parents were getting really muddy on their bicycles.  That’s call that a whole family win-win.  I come to EZ orchards more often these days. Some of the very best produce in town can be found at this spot.  They’ve got the whole ambiance thing figured out, too.  Definitely worth a visit.

Out in the countryside, harvesting continues at a brisk pace, only now it’s all about Christmas trees. Talk about aromatic, riding past the tree farms. There, fresh cut trees were being bundled and loaded into big trucks, the first leg of their journey to a living room of somebody who will no doubt pay a premium price.

Coming into Silverton, I passed the house that holds so many memories of visits to Aunt Lorraine and Uncle Roy, and my cousins, Elaine, Steve, and Jeff. I slowed down a bit there. Every visit to their house would include an exchange of songs at the piano between Uncle Roy and me. I always loved watching this big man sit at the piano, toes tapping, playing his self-taught jazz and ragtime tunes with such a velvety touch. 

Silverton has taken good care of their cool-little-town image by staying hip and trendy with the older buildings; murals and well-kept store fronts are inviting and fun.  

A quick food stop was the last smart decision I made on this ride. A sidewalk sign caught my eye, advertising chicken and white bean soup at the Silver Creek Coffee House.  Not only was it great soup, it was fuel I didn’t know I was going to need. I’d have been in serious trouble later on if I hadn’t eaten there.

I’d figured a 35-mile round trip would be about perfect. Thanks to my knack for creating routes in my head that don't really exist, I got to ride twice as far and with some hefty climbing. I could have just turned around in Silverton and ridden the same route home, but I got creative. In this case, creative=dumb. 

Heading south out of Silverton, you end up on the Silver Falls Route, a lovely, scenic climb from the valley floor up into the first set of foothills of the Cascades. I found out the hard way that there's no "quick" return to Salem that way. I’d already consumed half of the water and energy bars I’d taken along, about right for a little spin down in the valley, but not so much if you’re out of the saddle climbing 1600 feet and riding 70 miles. Uff da. I survived, but the last ten miles were u-g-l-y.  Thank goodness I got this picture of the North Falls along the way.  I like it!

Yesterday’s ride was both rewarding and punishing, but so worth taking.  I got home, legs complaining but spirit and soul rewarded.

Saturday Morning

There were so many things about last week that were just plain ominous, complicated, messy. When your brain and your schedule are on hyperdrive, you can process several things that seem to be unconnected, but by Friday they were starting to all blur together.  The economy, our community, school funding, the election, my family, student achievement, work, church, all things worth caring a lot about.

Now that it’s Saturday morning, there’s finally a bit of time to reflect.  Time to step away from the urgency and pace of a hard week, and do some mental processing. Some folks do this in total quiet and stillness.  Some of us, however, need a little activity, a diversion of some kind, a detour off the usual path, in order to do our best thinking.  A morning cup of coffee, a bike ride to who-knows-where, taking a few pictures of fall colors, a nap.

Coffee...done. Time now to click in and ride.