Ride Bikes, Drink Coffee

Bird Trouble

2011-11-07T21:15:00.000-08:00

Forgive me if I sound like I’m boasting, but you need to know that last week I made it into a rare fraternity, which few others have ever reached. I’m among the special ones who have been verbally scolded by the Audubon Society. In front of my own co-workers, no less. I was given the verbal smack-down on the trail...well, now I’m getting ahead of myself. Here’s what happened.

After an all-day meeting in a single conference room, some of my co-workers and I headed outdoors to enjoy a much-needed hike together in the late afternoon. It was the quintessential Oregon outing: a cool, crisp, invigorating walk among the old growth Doug Firs, alders, and cedars. Huge yellow maple leaves carpeted our path. The sounds from the nearby creek and the sweet smell of the forest soothed us. The exercise and clear air put us all in a good mood. A perfect way to end the long day.

The only real complaint was that this was supposed to be a birdwatching excursion, and it was being led by an honest-to-goodness Audubon Society guide, who I’ll call “Dave.” Well into our hike, we had still not seen or heard from a single, solitary bird. Nada. Dave didn’t seem too concerned, but I started to wonder if he was getting more nervous that our “birdwatching” tour might be birdless.

Dave would stop occasionally so we could all listen for bird noises. We’d hear cars, dogs, and people off in the distance, but alas, no birdies. Not one. We’d look up, high into the old-growth canopy where you might see Kinglets moving about way up there. Nope. Nothin.’

Now, imagine Dave’s great elation when after forty-five minutes we finally came to a spot on the trail where he’d seen some rustling in the nearby brush. Knowing the area well, he knew what birds tended to be in each spot along the trail. This was probably going to be a Pacific Wren. Dave started to make the little sounds with his mouth, sounding like the Pacific Wren. Maybe that would coax the little birdie out into the open where we could see it. He directed our attention to a mound of leaves at the base of a vine maple where he thought it was.

He started with the Wren’s “chk-chk...chk-chk” sound. I can tell you that I was quite impressed with how Wren-ish Dave’s sound was. Definitely Audubon-quality stuff. However, the birdie was apparently not impressed at all.

So then Dave began to whistle...that’s the other sound a Wren likes to make. It was a long, sing-songy tune that went high and low and for over fifteen seconds. That’s like three weeks, in bird years. Still, the Wren would have none of it. Dave tried to act like he wasn’t too concerned. Nonchalantly, he headed on down the trail as if it didn’t bother him that he couldn’t summon the bird. But still, I wondered if he was troubled about that...so I thought of a way I could help.

And this, dear friends, is where I spun myself off into Audubon Purgatory, the place from which I can never fully return.

I pulled out my iPhone, and played the Wren’s sound on my wild bird app.

My iPhone Wren was really good if I might say. It was so real-sounding, so irresistable, that of course the real Wren in the brush had to respond. The real Wren popped out into view, and seemed delighted to offer its own sing-songy response. First my iPhone Wren would call out, then the real Wren, back and forth, and back and forth.

I wish I could have preserved that fleeting moment of happiness we shared on the trail. Those fifteen seconds of satisfaction, seeing my co-workers’ delight while the real Wren and the iPhone Wren interacted. Happy that we could all just finally see a bird, any bird. Happy that we seemed to help make the real Wren happy, too. Happy that in these fifteen seconds, we were all finally able to have sweet communion and harmony in nature. There we all were, partaking in that sweet moment together with a bird. All thanks to my iPhone. It was blissful. Until...

...Dave.

He sauntered back up the trail, still appearing cool and calm, almost zen-like.

“So, no harm done...” he said in that way that you know, some harm’s been done.

I wondered who’d done it now...oh geez, he was looking right at me! With my iPhone in my hand, I was clearly the culprit. Defenseless now, I realized I was in the middle of a scolding.

“We in the Audubon Society don’t believe that people should be introducing electronic sounds out in the field. It presents an unneeded stress for the birds.”

Oh no. Unneeded stress! Now I’ve gone and done it to a tweety bird. I had no response. This was my own idea to use my iPhone. There was nobody else to blame but me, the Stress Guy. I stood there, tried and convicted by the court of Audubon before a jury of my peers. That iPhone suddenly weighed five pounds.

A colleague tried to step up with the obvious question. “So Dave, why’s it any different using an iPhone than what you did by making the sound with your mouth?”

“Good point.” He seemed to be stalling, but he recovered quickly.

“We just feel like it’s unnecessary to introduce electronic sounds out in the wild. It’s not really a bird, or even a person. It’s a waste of the birds’ time.”

And there it was. I had wasted the real Wren’s time. Curse the day I ever embraced technology. We all know it’s a time waster and now here’s the proof.

It was at this point that my colleague Jay (yes, ironically that is really his name) turned away from Dave’s view and shot a look of twisted delight in my misfortune. One eyebrow raised, and a grin to match. That’s when I made my second mistake.

Keeping a straight face was no longer possible. I completely lost it. Up came one of those laughs that you think you can suppress but you can’t, all the way up into my throat and then vocalized, louder than I thought it would be. It was an odd sounding noise, sort of primitive, and not really sounding like a laugh at all. This only added to my embarassment and there was no taking it back. Awkward....

Dave paused and looked at each of us, silently punctuating his message. Even the real Wren, whose time I had wasted, turned quiet and just stared at me. Everyone stood there with nothing to say while I tried to wipe the uncontrolled, goofy smile off of my face. I couldn’t; I was really trying to regain my composure which was of course only making things worse. It felt like I was back in the seventh grade.

The rest of the hike was a series of futile attempts to stop laughing. Occasional chuckles and chortles just blurted out uncontrollably. I really wanted Dave to know it was nothing personal, but c’mon. Wasting the birds’ time? Really? I wondered if he’d ever visited the Audubon website himself. I kind of doubt it. Did you know that they sell a variety of bird apps there?

I don’t think Dave knows that.

Riding The Harvest Century With A Friend

2011-10-08T21:06:00.000-07:00

I could say some things about today’s Harvest Century bike ride in the Washington and Yamhill counties, and why you should put it on the list for next year. I could try to describe the almost mystical feeling, riding past fields and forests in the muted light from a heavy cloud cover, and the cool smoky-sweet air we associate with this time of year. The real story of the day, however, is today’s riding companion.

Toe-knee is one of those rare, remarkable people who live their lives with intention, grace, and humor. You just want to be around people like her and hope that somehow, maybe by osmosis, you’ll get some of that mojo for yourself. Every member of her family is like that. For more than twenty years our family has looked up to each of them, and wanted to emulate them. That’s the real gift from riding today: the chance to re-connect with a dear friend and maybe get some more inspiration from her.

Forty-five miles into our ride together is when that inspiration came. She said, “Sometimes I wonder why I choose to keep doing this (cycling). Then I remember that Bethany didn’t have a choice, and that keeps me going.”

I framed that moment, and savored the meaning of it. What she had just said was heavy, important, and special.

Her daughter Bethany died of Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia four years ago, just before her 22nd birthday. I let my own memories of Bethany flood back into my mind. Up came that familiar ache again, especially now listening to her mother who carries her memory with every ride. This was hard. Then again, nobody said that inspiration is easy.

Bethany. I remembered playing with her on Sunday mornings when she was in high school. She was an outstanding oboist. I’d write parts for her and her siblings to play on their respective instruments for church. I just remember being so proud of their sound. Not every church enjoys a chamber ensemble sound on Sunday mornings. That was cool.

I remembered her influence on our kids, especially our oldest son, G. Part of who he is now is Bethany’s doing, and I’ll always be grateful for that.

And I remembered playing for her memorial service, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. We lost a great treasure with her passing.

Toe-knee continues to work through her grief from that loss. Over time that work has moved into the realm of active advocacy. In her mid-fifties she has suddenly become a serious cyclist. And she’s good at it. Purpose can do that.

She now honors Bethany with a new-found commitment to riding, raising awareness, and gathering donations for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. She has joined Team In Training to help her with logging the road miles, and gathering pledges from friends for her rides. It’s her way of doing something constructive in the wake of a profound loss.

That moment was framed by an otherwise upbeat, laughter-filled ride. Toe-knee is a master punster and she let a few fly during our time on the road. Just having time to re-connect now that we're no longer in the same town was priceless.

The thing I am grateful to have learned today, in an entirely new way, is that you never stop parenting your kids.

Sometimes An Easy Pace Is Better

2011-09-24T18:04:00.000-07:00

The Buena Vista Ferry--cyclists now pay $1 to ride, cash only.

After being sidelined by a nasty virus the last several days, it was nice to wake up and feel a little bit of energy come back. Today's 80-degree weather was perfect for a much-needed spin on the bike, even if I wasn't back to 100%.

The Flower Shop in Buena Vista

But did you know, there's an unspoken rule in cycling that if you've been sick, you can use your car to take your bike to a flat area for riding? True! Just thought you might want to know that in case you ~~need an excu~~--umm, have a good reason not to ride a big hill. Oh, and there's no limitation on how long ago you might have been sick. Yes, you can quote this blog anytime you need. I got your back.

So, I brought the necessary $1 cash fare to ride the Buena Vista Ferry across the Willamette. This loop, Ankeny-Buena Vista-Independence, is almost all flat, and allows a slow pace with lots of enjoyable scenery. Going slow allows you to notice more things, so that was my goal for today. The ferry ride is fun and sort of a novelty, although it's an extremely short ride. Just off the ferry, the first thing that greets you is a great little flower shop. Seeing it again reminded me that I need to take Mrs. C there...

A couple of minutes later on Buena Vista Road, a great blue heron took flight right next to me, its vast blue wings dwarfing me and my bike as it rose and turned away. Watching that little sequence happen was the reward for getting out on the bike today.

As I predicted, I didn't have the gas to climb. I couldn't even make it up a modest little slope. It was a reminder that I’m just a day or two this side of a virus. I rose off the saddle, geared all the way down, huffed and puffed, and still couldn’t do it. I barely clicked out of the pedals in time before falling over...that would have been the icing on the cake.

Now, here's another cycling tip you must know: the trick to stopping on an uphill is to make it look like you’re not stopping because it's an uphill. Absolutely not. You’re stopping because you need a drink of water, or making a phone call, whatever. Of course everybody can see right through your motivation because your chest is heaving as you try to get some air, but you do get extra style points if you make the sham look somewhat believable. Like when soccer players fall to the ground writhing in pain when they get bumped, only to make miraculous recoveries as the ball goes back into play. Of course it’s all for show, but it's part of the game. So today, I did the “stop-for-a-drink-of-water-and-take-a-picture” combo. I don’t think the nearby cow who watched it all cared much one way or the other.

The summer weather got off to such a late start that all the timetables are sort of jumbled. I don’t ever recall seeing such an abundance of blackberries still ripening on roadside vines this late into September. They sure smell good as you ride by. Grapes had a rough start too with the cold and rain in June, but the long stretches of warm sun in August and September may have come to the rescue, just in time. Fall harvests have begun: roadside stands are offering up apples and pumpkins. Sweet corn is plentiful right now. My favorite time of year.

The forests and fields are showing the first hints of the turning to autumn. For the next several weeks the harvests will all come in, the colors will change, the grass and the leaves will fade and fall, and nature will begin to turn inward for a time.

Payette Forward

2011-09-01T22:54:00.000-07:00

Maybe it was just the time of year we were traveling, but Eastern Oregon was more spectactular than I’d anticipated. The sweeping views of valleys and mountains, the people, the obvious care for keeping yards tidy and streets clean. I could live there.

Oh that’s right, I already did.

Anyway, heading farther east to McCall, Idaho, we enjoyed a few days of play and fun with relatives on the shores of Payette Lake.

Two words to you about McCall, dear readers: get there.

McCall is probably mostly known as a winter resort town, so maybe the summertime is its best kept secret. A brand-spankin’ new city beach park, a network of bike paths, great vacation homes (it's not hard to find dirt cheap rent prices), this place was a wonderful surprise. In many ways, this place reminds me of how lake resort towns were before being overrun by tourism and expansion.

So, yes, it may seem ironic that I’m encouraging you to go there and add to the tourism and expansion. Oh well. I’m stickin’ with my message: get there.

I rode the blue beast on a spin around the perimeter of the lake. Great highway shoulders for riders, and some gravelly roads up on the north end for when you want something other than pavement under your tires.

Payette Lake is gorgeous. Boating and hiking, kayaking and rock climbing are popular summer pastimes here. So much to do if you like the outdoors. Lots of critters, too. In fact, while riding my bike at a pretty good clip, I almost inadvertently T-boned a deer that jumped right out in front of me!

It’s also bear country there. We did indeed see bear poop in the woods (um--think noun and not verb, please).

So, hikers, remember the two main rules: make lots of noise, and always have somebody slower than you along on the hike :)

But oh my goodness, this place needs to be on your next year's summer bucket list.

Like I said, get there.

Can You Ever Really Go Back?

2011-08-31T23:24:00.001-07:00

Have you ever gone back to any of your childhood homes? I just did last month. Well, let's say I tried. We were in LaGrande, the town where I was born. It's a beautiful place in Eastern Oregon, and I'm glad I got to visit on our way through to Idaho.

Our family lived in a simple but nice home, out on the edge of town, on a large lot with beautiful fruit trees and views of the mountains. I remember my parents would play Johnny Cash and Ray Conniff records on the hi-fi. We had the most amazing family dog, a German Shepherd named Prince. And even though I was sick a lot with asthma, I really think I had a golden life. So I thought it would be nice to go back and see my old house on Willow, the place of my earliest childhood memories.

It turns out, a short visit was all I needed. The house is still there, but it's no longer on the edge of town. And people don't live there anymore.

Now, it's the "Hair Shack."

"Shack?" Really?!

But wait, there's more. My old bedroom is now the part of the "shack" where you go for a pedicure.

Adjoining the house...er, shack, is a pizza parlor.

Oh brother.

But, as I turned around to see where our fruit trees once stood, there it was....

....Cup O' Joe!

With a cyclist at the drive thru!

Yes, this is home after all!

A Sweet Evening Ride

2011-08-27T13:12:00.000-07:00

With the long week finally winding down, Mrs. C suggested we get outdoors for a little recreation together. She and I spent our Friday evening on our bicycles, out south of Salem along the farms, where we had the quiet roads completely to ourselves. For much of the ride we rode side by side, able to converse without competing with the noise from as much as a single car.

This valley is special. The sweet, dense evening air is intoxicating this time of year. We rode past fields where the smell of cut hay lingers after being cut, baled, and carted away. This summer’s bumper crop of blackberries are hanging ripe on the vines, their scent a treat for the senses.

All sorts of birds and critters are showing up again at the refuge; in the brief time we stopped at the marsh, we saw egrets, heron, geese, and ducks. A pair of beaver were swimming and sunning on the shore just across the water. Time to bring the big camera back there, I suppose.

A short ride, a slow pace, and a delightful way to usher in the weekend.

Providence Bridge Pedal 2011

2011-08-14T22:50:00.000-07:00

A view from the Fremont Bridge

Root Beer and funky music on the top deck of the Marquam

Mrs. C and I joined the throngs at today’s Providence Bridge Pedal 2011 in Portland. With over 18,000 other riders, let’s just say this was not one of those rides you take out in the countryside to find a little solitude.

This was a big PARTY on Portland’s bridges!

This year’s ride felt much more crowded; it was slow going much of the time. I think it had something to do with the route we had to take. There were times when we were stuck in crowds at a standstill waiting for our turn to proceed. It was more than a minor annoyance. Still, I’m reluctant to be critical of the route planners because they have to work around a constantly changing set of factors. It’s no small thing to put on an event that actually closes down interstates, city streets, and most of the bridges in town for an entire morning. Better to think of this as a leisurely bike ride with 18,000 friends.

People who wanted to ride above 15 mph were frustrated and created their own impromptu “lanes” outside of the established cones and markers. That’s really aggravating to those of us who are trying to be respectful to motorists and pedestrians. And it’s disrespectful to the ride organizers, I think. They’re the ones who made the agreements with city officials to make this ride possible. We all own our reputation together. Sharing the road is--pun intended--a “two-way street.” Besides, this is a community event, not a race.

Mrs. C and some close friends of ours were doing the Bridge Pedal for the first time today. Riding on them for the first time, especially the Marquam and Fremont, they were amazed at the scale of these massive structures. We don’t fully get that appreciation while inside a car going 50 or 60 mph.

Toward the end of the ride, I connected with my longtime friend and colleague, Scott W. That’s another great thing about the slow, friendly pace of this ride. You actually have time to find some familiar faces and strike up a conversation.

On a bridge.

With no cars.

Getting Home

2011-08-07T23:38:00.000-07:00

Dorothy's ruby slippers are now on display at the Smithsonian.
She doesn't use them anymore.

Remember how Dorothy transported herself back from Oz? She clicked her ruby slippers together and repeated, “There’s no place like home” and was suddenly back in Kansas.

Yeah, it turns out that it doesn’t really work--I tried it yesterday to save some long hours in the car on our return trip from McCall, Idaho. All that happened was I got some very strange looks from the locals. I still had to do the 500+mile drive. Actually, it’s a very scenic drive so no complaints.

Now I’m thinking more about that quote from the movie: “There’s no place like home.” Hmmm.

Riding In The Willamette Valley

Probably each of us has someplace we think of as “home,” where we most strongly find our sense of place and belonging in the world. It may not be where we currently live, but where we are most connected to for one reason or another. Because of the associated memories and emotions, we see these surroundings differently and more subjectively than anywhere else we go. Riding through a forest and taking in the sweet smells of cedar and pine, or rolling beside a field of fresh cut hay or mint, I feel most at home. You may as well cue the soundtrack with Dvorak’s New World Symphony. Movement 2 to be precise.

It’s sort of interesting, though, how “home” is such a relative term, isn’t it? For me, home is here in the Willamette Valley, but somebody else’s home could as well be in those mountains I can see to my east or the coast range to the west. Or maybe it's that next set of mountains just beyond my view, or even a place that is on an entirely different continent.

I believe that getting there--and being there--on a bicycle rather than something faster and steel encased, makes all the difference as we learn to appreciate what “home” means to somebody else. No matter how far away we go, we are always visitors in somebody else’s home, and in this sense, our homes are all connected to each other.

I love what I read recently from Donald Miller's book, A Million Miles In A Thousand Years. He was describing being a part of a cycling group that was nearing their completion of a ride across the United States:

It didn't feel like we'd ridden across the country. It didn't feel like the ocean was only two days away. We'd grown into the lifestyle and gotten lost in the story and even, to some degree, grieved that it was ending. When you fly across the country in an airplane, the country seems vast, but it isn't vast. It's all connected by roads one can ride a bike down. If you watch the news and there's a tragedy at a house in Kansas, that guy's driveway connects with yours, and you'd be surprised how few roads it takes to get there. The trip taught us that we were all neighbors, that my life is connected to everybody else's, that one person's story has the power to affect a million others.

It’s really all just our perspective. Riding new roads, finding new places, and experiencing new things, are some of the great joys of riding a bike. So, too, is the exhiliaration of returning to familiar places on a road you know well, because it has become so much a part of who you are. And once you've done that ride, things feel closer and home feels bigger. Whether it’s my age, or accumulated time on the saddle, it’s good to try to expand my view of “home.”

So, Dorothy, have a great life in Kansas. Once you recover from that bump on your head, see if you can borrow that bicycle from Miss Gulch and learn what’s out beyond the farm.

Punsday

2011-07-05T05:09:00.000-07:00

This one is in honor of our camping friends.

Therapist: Did you get outdoors and relax like I suggested?

Patient: No, Doc, I was way too busy. I had some pretty wild dreams, though. I had been planning on going camping and when I'd go to bed, I'd get these two recurring dreams. I'd start at a campground by a beautiful lake, but I wasn't a person, I was a tent. A tent, Doc! That's not normal, right? So then right after that dream, I'd have another dream. There I am again, but this time I'm not a tent, I'm a tepee. Night after night, the same two dreams...tent, tepee, tent, tepee...what do you think it means, Doc?

Therapist: It should be obvious to you, you're two tents.

Practicing Hospitality Pt. II

2011-07-04T06:05:00.000-07:00

This is the follow-up from "Heidi Anspacher," a former student who has been learning a ton about providing a homestay experience for guest cyclists in her home, and not killing herself in the process. You can see our first exchange here.

Dear Ride Bikes, Drink Coffee:

Thank you for giving me lots of things to think about this week. I wanted to write back with a quick update. My avoidance must have sent a message, because as the visit went on, my guests got a little better about leaving areas mostly how they found them, and confining the chaos in common areas to specific, smaller areas. Monday evening one of them mumbled acknowledgment that they "spread out a lot" and thanked me for putting up with it—this is as close as we ever got to broaching the issue. They tried to feel me out for staying another day, but since I had another cyclist coming after them, I was thankfully able to decline. I saw them right before they left, and I was glad that I was already able to be a more pleasant friend since they had moved on to another host for their last night in town.

While I did not work up the cajones to be as direct about the situation as I would have liked, moving forward I'm definitely reevaluating my guest policies. At the moment I've got my first WarmShowers.org visitor staying here—a gracious young woman who has been nothing but delightful. Even though it was clear it wouldn't be a problem, I did start her visit by making some specific requests regarding common areas. And I'm considering a "no couples" policy so I don't have to problem-solve if I need something in my bedroom while guests are sleeping there.

In short, I haven't figured this whole hosting thing out yet since I'm really new to the game, but I'm trying to learn from this experience so I can get better at it. Thank you again for your help!

Heidi Anspacher

Dear HA,

It sounds like you took the opportunity to reflect on what works best for you. Honestly, that will improve the whole experience for you as well as your guests. It certainly helps take the anxiety level down when you know your system and can explain it to visitors in such a way that everybody is clear on the parameters.

Congratulations to you for your "aha moments," and for sharing them with me.

All the best,

Oh Beautiful...

2011-07-02T11:13:00.000-07:00

There are mornings in this valley that can literally send all of your senses into hyperdrive. This was definitely one of those mornings.

I headed out early, pointing the bike toward the Buena Vista Ferry. In the entire 11 miles to the ferry, I encountered 3 cars.

I pedaled hard through a delightful interplay of morning light and shadows, through the fresh sweet air you only get out in the country.

The new Buena Vista Ferry just resumed operation last week after a several-months-long “extreme makeover:” new boat, towers, cable, ramps. The whole nine yards. There was an osprey in its nest high above the east ramp, calling out when I arrived. Right on cue, the ferry operator responded and came across to get me, his single, non-paying passenger. The ferry crossing took all of two minutes!

When friends come to visit, I will take them on this ride. Cyclists are still riding for free, until August 5th. Then we’ll have to pay a whole buck. Reminder: cash or check only!

On the west side of the river, I was literally riding under spacious skies, through amber waves of grain, looking out at the mountain majesties, above the fruited plain! And it was on the 4th of July weekend! Heading into a town named--yep, you guessed it-- “Independence!”

Stopping in Independence to eat a bar and drink some water, I noticed they were getting ready for a big 4th of July weekend celebration at Riverview Park. Couldn’t ask for a better day for that! If you’re nearby and want to get a dose of Americana on the 4th, this is the place to be.

Clicking back into my pedals, it was time for me to get serious. The ride from Independence into Salem gets progressively more car traffic, and I let all the whizzing cars inspire my pedaling cadence the whole way back.

A 40-mile loop, a feast for the senses. The roads could not be more ideal for riding on the big chainring, breathing in the air, and taking in the best of what this valley offers.

Punsday

2011-07-01T09:14:00.000-07:00

This one's easy to remember...perfect for sharing while cycling on a country road.

A guy walks up to his horse and says,

"Why the long face?"

Changing Phones

2011-06-30T07:07:00.000-07:00

Ah, progress...

I said goodbye to my faithful, reliable, antique cell phone last weekend.

It’s apparently an antique because it’s four years old. It was a hand-me-down from Mrs. C who upgraded a while ago.

I loved that old phone. None of that data plan/wi-fi stuff with this baby, no sir. By current standards, this was your basic no-frills telephone. Period. But it did have some very special features which I appreciated.

It was a survivor. After two cycles through the washing machine, most of the buttons still worked most of the time.

It was a smart phone in its own way. It would instinctively turn itself off with no warning, so I wouldn’t have to be bothered by those pesky phone calls coming in.

It was sensitive. The ringer and vibrate functions were so faint most of the time, it would rarely interrupt what you were doing at the office to let you know your wife needs you to pick your daughter up from school.

It waited patiently for me at a movie theater lost and found for over a week, until I figured out where I’d lost it. Golly, anybody could have taken it during that time, but for some reason they never did...hmmm....

It went on lots of bike rides with me and would get all sweaty in my pocket. That’s how loyal this phone was.

Yes sir, my antique phone was sort of like an old labrador who sits at your feet by the fireplace every evening.

Clearly we were bonded, so why the switch? Well, you know the story: had to change phone carriers, get us all onto the same plan, blah blah etc etc. Modern progress.

My family took me to the phone store and convinced me it was time to enter the 21st century. They showed me what an iPhone could do and I have to admit, they’re pretty versatile little machines. There are these buttons on the screen that aren’t really buttons at all, and they open up entire new worlds on the display. Email, calendar, camera, weather, maps, internet, youtube....then they’d drag an entirely new screen into view. More buttons! Games of all kinds, like the one they like called “Angry Birds.”

Long story short, I’m now sporting a shiny new iphone, looking hip and groovy like everybody else. My family and co-workers are now giving me crash courses on “apps” I can download to make my life better. Now, I’m supposed to talk to my phone and it will do an internet search for me; there’s an app for that. If I need daily inspiration there’s an app for that. I’m not supposed to actually look for coffee shops...theres an app for that. Movie tonight? There’s an app. Oh, you meant a movie at home? Redbox has an app for that. There are even apps to help manage your apps. Who knew I needed one of those. I’m told there’s an app for everything, to make my life better.

I’ve accepted my new situation, and I’m done grieving the separation with my antique cell phone. But change takes its toll on a person. I’m sort of dizzy from all the screens and buttons and apps that are syncing up my life. My brain is full and it can’t take any more input right now.

It’s all so tiring.

Thankfully, there’s a nap for that.

Riding With A Friend

2011-06-28T05:57:00.000-07:00

Pablo and his new bike are rippin' up the asphalt these days. Between commuting and riding for pleasure, they get lots of miles in every week and it shows. Sunday afternoon we took a spin through the countryside from Champoeg to Willamette Mission State Park, using the Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway to get us on our way.

If you haven't tried this route yet, add it to your "summer bucket list." Miles and miles of seldom-used roads that wind through local agriculture, with sweeping views across the valley to the mountain ranges east and west. The predominantly flat profile of this route makes it quite accessible.

Even on a weekend, traffic was pretty sparse. We could ride two abreast and catch up on the usual stuff: kids, spouses, work, riding. For the record, Pablo's puns exceeded mine in number as well as groan factor. Vegetable puns are hard to beet.

Oregon's Tallest Black Cottonwood. Gezundheit!

We rolled through Willamette Mission State Park as our turn-around point. I realized that my allergies and asthma were basically non-existent, despite all the mown grass, horses, and cottonwood around us. I offered up a prayer of thanks for modern medicine. Just a few minutes later, a sign pointed us to the state's tallest black cottonwood tree. There it stood on the edge of the river, a dubious-looking symbol of allergies for folks in the valley.

We stopped for a photo op, ambled a bit longer through the park, drank our water, and then the ride suddenly and inexplicably changed. Without so much as a word, we both elevated our pedaling cadence, found optimum gears, and hammered the entire way back. Trading the lead, using each other's draft, we flew. You don't need words in order to make agreements about who leads. You just know when it's time to charge ahead, and when to relinquish the lead to your buddy.

This is something you don't get to experience when you ride solo, or with novice riders. Drafting has some inherent danger. You have to keep tabs on each other's position and make sure not to let wheels get too close. Once you figure it out though, it's a great way to increase your speed. The scenery rolled by much faster, and before we knew it, we finished the 20+ miles back to Champoeg.

A fresh strawberry milkshake is just the thing after a long ride. For the record, I finished mine first, but Pablo was drafting close behind.

Next time, he'll take the lead I'm sure.

Practicing Hospitality

2011-06-27T07:49:00.000-07:00

This message came into the inbox yesterday from "Heidi," a wonderful and talented former student of mine who is seeking a little advice as she opens her home to visiting cyclists coming through her town.

Dear Ride Bikes, Drink Coffee:

This summer I have opened my home to touring cyclists via the WarmShowers.org website. I've hosted a few people, but none specifically through that service just yet. At the moment, I am hosting two "friends" passing through on their cross-continent bike tour. Because my guest room only has a twin bed, I have switched bedrooms so they could sleep in a bed, based on advice my delightful, patience-of-a-saint high school choir teacher gave when we were doing home stays so many years ago. This clearly impressed one of my coworkers when I mentioned it to her, but apparently my going-the-extra-mile has not meant much to my guests.

This is the second time I've hosted them, and both times they have descended on me as if they owned the place. Every conceivable flat surface has their belongings strewn about (pretty impressive considering they're living out of panniers!). Books get taken out of bookshelves and then not put back. The two stacks of paper I have (which are organized) are fair game to their curious fingers. The main offender has ADD, and claims that having everything out where she can see it is essential for her to find things. Since there are two of them and only one of me, and I am not used to a living situation with more than just me, I've been trying my best to grin and bear it for the few days that they are here.

The last time they visited me, in the fall (when I was living in another city), a friend suggested that I do what I need to do to get through their visit without choking them. (What that meant was that I didn't spend a lot of time with my guests.) This time, they never actually *asked* if they could stay with me, it was just kind of assumed until they emailed me with their arrival date. They've now been here less than 24 hours, but I'm already feeling like I need to just keep to myself in order to avoid lashing out.

Do you have any advice? It seems like all the articles online about how to be a good houseguest specifically note that treating your host's house like a hotel is frowned upon, and keeping things tidy is the hallmark of a desirable guest. Do I continue emulating my dear high school choir teacher and putting their needs before mine? Can I say no if they ask to stay with me in the future, and not damage the "friendship?"

Sincerely,

"Heidi Anspacher"

Dear HA:

Your former choir teacher is feeling awfully proud of you for practicing hospitality, and for reaching out to the cycling community!

Don’t let two riders sour your experience as a host. You will encounter every kind of guest, and most of them will be wonderful. This pair is not representative of most of the people you’re likely to meet! It's a good early opportunity to learn from their visit inside your home, however, and take what you’ve learned and apply it to your way of hosting others. In a way, this is a “teachable moment” for the parameters you would like to set. It might also inform how to re-organize your space a little differently so there’s your space and their space. Think about how you will set the tone for your home when people stay: As you greet your visitors, what will you say to them so they clearly understand the norms and expectations at the HA home. If people are going to stay with you, it can’t end up costing you the headaches, frustration, time, etc.

I’d suggest you muster up the courage to confront the situation with your current guests if they're still there. Once they’re gone and you look back on their visit, you’ll be glad you did. My bet is they’ll either become better guests, or they won’t darken your door again. Either way you win.

Perhaps saying something like, “I’m really interested in opening my home when other cyclists come through, and I’m realizing that I’ll need to be more clear with them than I’ve been with you about what means.” Then you go about describing what area of your home you've set aside for them to use, and which things in your home are off limits to them. ADD does not give one permission to impose their messiness on you during a homestay.

Clearly, your current guests don’t have much experience practicing gracious visitation, and that’s too bad. They’re missing out on the better parts of the whole experience of sharing space and making friends along the journey. Granted, long-haul cyclists spend countless hours on the sides of the road, where road debris, dead animals, and the flotsam and jetsam of vehicle traffic all tend to collect. They’re used to things being a bit messy. But that in no way gives them the right to leave their manners behind when somebody opens their home to them.

All the best to you, HA!

Punsday

2011-06-23T07:49:00.000-07:00

I have found that bike rides with friends are perfect for pun sharing. Occasionally you have to lighten the conversation with your riding partner. You know, interrupt the talk about substantive things, and just bust out a pun. Feel free to add this little gem to your repertoire. My dad shared it with me, now I'm paying it forward.

An avalanche brought two large rocks together in a ravine. So close that they were touching. Both rocks were painfully shy, and mortified at the thought of initiating a conversation with the other one. It took centuries before they could even acknowledge each other’s presence. But there was a special attraction between the two. Each one waited desperately for the other to say something, and so it went for a very, very long time.

When one rock finally gathered up the courage to say something, they started to converse together. A wonderful relationship ensued and they became a couple. Now, blissfully happy, their only regret was looking back on all the lost years they could have enjoyed, if only they had not succumbed to their shyness for so long.

Soon it became apparent to the two rocks that a little one was on the way! The shy couple prayed that their baby would be a little boulder.

Learn As You Go

2011-06-19T22:23:00.000-07:00

First Anniversary-1984

You learn things being attached to the same person for many years. As Mrs. C and I celebrated our 28th anniversary Saturday, I pondered some of the things I have learned over the years:

In our earliest years together, I learned not to say dumb things, like: “That’s not how my mom mixes the orange juice.”

Another dumb thing you don’t do as a newlywed is say, “I love you," and then call her by the wrong name...yeah, that was not good.

Later, I learned to become handy around the house...unfortunately that still didn’t mean I had any common sense. For instance, assembling the crib for your firstborn is really special, but you should always do so in the nursery, not the living room. That way you don’t have to take the whole thing apart and start all over to make it fit through the nursery doorway. Mmm hmm.

Twenty-eighth Anniversary-2011

Over the course of our marriage, I did get a little smarter. I'd look at her calendar to see when she had a hair appointment. That way, I could compliment her new look when she walked through the door, even if I wasn't sure exactly what the hairdresser did. That strategy worked, at least until that time her appointment fell through. That experience taught me not to compliment a new hairstyle if there’s nothing new about it. Oops.

The list could go on and on. I’ve amassed so many of these stories, it sort of makes me wonder why she’s kept me around for so long. I could have been set out with the recycling a long time ago.

Well, whatever it is, I’m grateful that she still laughs at my dumb jokes, and that we like doing things with and for each other, and that she still has the grace to see beyond all my faults.

And how cool that she’s riding again! We had a great time together on the Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway. Quiet country roads, cool dry weather. Okay, the flat tire wasn’t so great, but it wasn’t all that big a deal, either.

Having an anniversary and a Father’s Day on the same weekend is pretty special. It gives me a chance to say how much I appreciate our kids and my dad.

I’m at that point in my life when I have those “out of body experiences” where it startles me when I hear myself say things to my kids, and I sound just like my dad.

And that proves that indeed, I have learned a thing or two.

Sun-day on Saturday

2011-06-04T14:35:00.000-07:00

At last...our long-awaited burst of sunshine! A real honest-to-goodness 80+ degree day, and Oregonians were out there, pale and squinting hard in the unfamiliar glare of the sun, determined to be outside and enjoy this rarity. Cyclists were certainly out in force...there were some organized rides going on today, but many of us just went out on our own solo rides.

Sometimes it’s nice to just go out on a ride and see where it takes you. If it’s hard to make up your mind--country roads or city streets, hills or flat, east or west--it’s fun to be a little spontaneous and just let the bike take you wherever. That was how today’s ride unfolded for me. It was sort of a smorgasbord of everything.

What a difference a sunny day makes when you’ve not had one in months. It felt good to climb hills in the heat of the sun and feel my body's temperature rise. It’s not the same as climbing on cold days. I could feel the rays of the sun reach all the way down to the pavement and bounce back up, too. Even the strong headwind coming down the flat open stretches was warm, somehow making the effort to go fast more enjoyable.

There were some nice sights along today’s ride, too. Sunshine just spruces things up anyway, but it definitely causes you to notice more things. The mountains are finally visible again, completely white from heavy spring snows, which are already creating huge runoffs and near-flood conditions in the valley.

And tucked in alongside the industrial park area in Southeast Salem, I realized that I’ve been ignoring a very nice wetlands area. Duh.

Welcome back, sunshine. Stick around awhile, would you, please?!

Punsday

2011-06-01T19:40:00.000-07:00

Got a coffee date coming up? Riding bikes with a friend this weekend? No worries...I've got yet another pun for you to share.

Mr. Potato Head didn't become a celebrity by accident. His parents had it all planned from the very beginning. The best schools, the most prestigious clubs, lots of planned media attention, his own cable tv show, the works. Well, as Mr. Potato Head grew up, his parents grew more anxious. Who would he choose to marry? Would she meet their high expectations? Would she be able to become the kind of celebrity that he was destined to be? They lost many nights of sleep wondering. Waiting. Hoping.

One day, young Mr. Potato Head returned from college with great news. He'd met somebody, and had proposed her on the spot! The parents were so excited, just sure that he had found a movie star, or a well-heeled socialite. Expecting to hear great news, they asked who she was.

A smile came across his face as he told them her name, "Katie Couric!"

His parents were stunned.

His father finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry son, but you simply cannot marry Katie Couric. She's just a common tater."

Pa-dum-pump.

Making Most Of The Time

2011-05-30T20:16:00.000-07:00

Walking the trail at Silver Falls, overhearing conversations between members of my family: a sister and her brother in front of me, and a mother and her son behind me, I was thinking, “this is how to make the most of our time.”

For two entire days this weekend, our whole family was together. T-Bone came home from college, and G flew in from Mississippi. Time flew. Just as abruptly as we all had come together, it's a memory. T-Bone's already in Colorado now, and G will leave in a few days. Months of being apart behind us, months of being apart ahead of us, this was our little teeny little island of being together as a family. And that's precisely why making most of the time was so critical.

Among the highlights of our weekend: a hike. Time in a forest is good for the soul. For all of our souls. So off we went. Silver Falls State Park is close to home, and a great place for scenery and walking together. We were replenished during our afternoon walk in the forest.

Seems like we always have rain on Memorial Day weekend in Oregon, so nothing new there. We did happen to miss getting rained on during our walk, but not by much. We shared the trail with many families and large groups of folks, who were also enjoying a cool, damp day in the forest, even with muddy trails and big puddles to cross.

The Trail of Ten Falls is a feast for the eyes. Along the way from one set of falls to the next, there are so many other things to see and appreciate.

Overhearing the chatter along the trail, the laughter and conversations, I was so grateful for these woods, a place set apart from wi-fi and ringing cell phones. Even for just a little while. It was just us, in the forest, together.

Of course I’d like more time for us all to be in one place at the same time, but honestly, this was great just the way it was.

Punsday

2011-05-18T20:24:00.000-07:00

Note: Some may think that puns have no connection to bikes or coffee. Not true! Ask anyone who's ridden bikes or had coffee with me. Puns pair well with either. To that end, I humbly offer you this post, inspired by this piece of rope that a colleague found on the beach, and then thought of a pun, and then thought of me.

A foot-long piece of rope sneaks into a bar, hops up onto the bar stool and exclaims to the bartender: “I’d like a beer, please!”

The bartender looks down at him and says, “we don’t serve ropes in here...now git on outta here.”

The rope leaves, and tries the same thing a half-hour later. He hops up onto the bar stool, and in a deeper voice says, “I’d like a beer, please!”

The bartender raises his voice at the little rope and said, “I TOLD you, we don’t SERVE ropes. Git outta here and don’t bother comin' back!”

The rope scampers back outside, this time with a better plan. Out in the parking lot, he rubs his head against the side of the building until his hair is all frizzy, and ties himself into a knot.

The rope walks calmly to the bar stool, climbs up, and in a low baritone voice says, “I would like a beer, bartender.”

The bartender peers down at the rope. He says, “Aren’t you that rope I ran outta here already?”

The rope replies, “Nope! I’m a frayed knot!”

Reconnecting

2011-05-16T19:41:00.000-07:00

It's been too long. Heading out the door each morning for work, I walk past that awesome lightweight bike that just hangs there against the garage wall. I can't remember the last time I've taken it out for a good hard ride. Long days and nights at work have needed to take precedent over everything else lately. Other responsibilities have pressed in, too, and time on the bike has hardly been an option. Add in the unseasonably cold and wet La Niña weather...yeesh. I was riding more in February than I am now. Yep, I'm enjoying a full fledged personal pity party.

Saturday changed all that. A chance to ride a little bit again, together with Mrs. C who has bonded with her new bike, and Nat--knock on wood--who loves to ride all of a sudden. Go ahead, knock me over with a feather.

We got to share our ride time with really good friends. Nat’s friend Annabanana, along with Pablo and Mrs. Pablo, made the time especially groovy. We caught up on what’s happening with our families. We talked about work and travel and all sorts of stuff. A few of us took on a hill before finishing the ride, just so we could be all impressed with ourselves. I was secretly relieved just to stay upright on the climb! Later that night, I remembered what a gift it is to have something you truly love to do, especially when there are people in your life to share it.

I walked past the bike again this morning on my way to work, remembering and smiling, and looking forward to the next great ride. Soon.

Are We There Yet?

2011-05-03T05:32:00.000-07:00

The Statesman Journal is currently running a feel-good series going on called “160 Reasons We Love The Mid-Valley.” On the same day as we held our annual Monster Cookie Ride, we enjoyed a clear blue spring sky, and the paper ran nice piece describing this as a bike friendly place. I think it describes our potential more than reality.

The article cited some reasons why this area is a “mecca for cyclists:” safe bike lanes in and out of Salem, lots of country roads, and a mix of flat and hilly riding. I agree with two of the three reasons, but let’s be real. We can’t really boast about safe bike lanes around here, at least not yet.

Getting around in Salem is manageable for cyclists with some experience sharing the road with cars. But the number of “disappearing bike lanes” is baffling, and in many cases downright scary. Leisure and recreational riders need better options in this town before I can agree with the assertion that we have safe bike lanes here. Maybe things are about to get better. Maybe.

Our go-to blog on this topic, Breakfast On Bikes, does a superlative job of describing the problems with our roads, intersections, and bike lanes at key spots around town. Maps, descriptions, and possible solutions are all thoughtfully presented. Moreover, readers are constantly invited into civic engagement: meeting with city officials, attending open houses, and attending planning sessions, to effect the improvements we need. The city has a new questionnaire available online that may help, especially as they have organized the questions by regions around town. If you're interested, do it soon...the deadline is May 9!

Another step in the right direction has been the introduction of some "sharrows." City streets have lanes designated and marked for sharing between bikes and cars.

But the city has also recently approved some traffic projects that seem to make things better for cars, worse for pedestrians and bikes. Here's one example.

On balance, I agree with the newspaper article. This is a fantastic area for cycling. It’s deserving of the recent shout-out by Bicycling Magazine. There are some amazing country roads, both flat and hilly. Sorry, I just can’t swallow that one piece about safe bike lanes, and it’s a problem in this town. Having lived here a while now, I’d say there’s some serious work needed to make things more accessible to cyclists and pedestrians.

A Three-Park Day

2011-05-02T06:37:00.000-07:00

Sunday was just the kind of day you’d want to spend at the park. How about three parks? That’s just what we did...on bicycles!

A few brand new developments: Mrs C has a road bike that she’s excited to ride, and Nat has suddenly decided she enjoys cycling! Don’t pinch me...I don’t want to wake up.

This was an important chance to spend a little family time together, and I wanted them to be happy during the ride. For our outing, I needed to find a route that wasn’t too difficult for everybody. Getting acquainted with gearing takes a little time, and I didn’t want to frustrate my new co-riders. We needed maximum appeal and minimum challenge. I could almost recommend this ride to families, except for the problems posed to riders on South Commercial. We had to do some heavy improvising there.

So, we started our journey at Wallace Marine Park, passing several soccer games and folks walking their pets. From there we crossed Salem’s iconic Union Street Bridge, carefully winding our way around all the foot and skateboard traffic. We ambled through Riverfront Park where parents and kids were twirling, chasing, playing catch. The ride became less than ideal for recreational riding, as we had to make our way down part of South Commercial which has some problem spots for cyclists. Ultimately, we got to Minto-Brown Island Park, where it seemed everybody and their dog was, too. (Mild pun attempt: there’s a section of the park for folks to let their dogs off leash to run and play).

All in all, it was only about 10 miles. But my riding partners enjoyed it...and our next outing together will be just a wee bit more challenging. They're up for it!

Sharing The Road

2011-05-01T06:19:00.000-07:00

A break from the rain...a road bike for Mrs. C, and a little time to ride together out on some back roads in the valley.

Priceless.

Each season has its own beauty, including winter...but nobody's complaining about things becoming green again.

Along the ride, we happened upon what looked and sounded like a mega-church for geese. A few of them were still arriving. That's okay, the rest of them were just kind of "winging it" anyway.

2011-04-24T06:36:00.001-07:00

Asthma and Cycling: Like Riding A Bike.

2011-04-23T14:43:00.000-07:00

At some point as a kid, you became determined to ride a bike all on your own. You had to learn how to steer, how to brake, how to keep yourself going, and how to get up when you fell down. That's a great metaphor for how we deal with asthma, too.

Steer clear of obstacles and know when to use the brakes. Staying on top of the symptoms is key; when you can’t do that, adjust accordingly. The Willamette Valley offers a veritable plethora of environmental triggers for allergies and asthma: grass pollens, and tree pollens, smoke from grass burning, molds, dust, take your pick. For most of us, we’ve learned what kind of medication works, and we adjust our activity when pollen counts are peaking. Keeping the triggers at bay allows you to fully enjoy what this corner of the planet has to offer. If asthma or allergies are already compromised and then a trigger hits you, that’s a bad day, and it’s going to be a long journey getting back to normal.

Keep your momentum, and get back up when you fall. An asthma plan should be seen as a process that moves with you every day. It’s a routine with a "plan b,” just in case. That’s all. Once it’s working for you, it honors your possibilities and potential. It keeps you out of asthma jail long enough to enjoy the freedom of a normal day, even in the valley. You’re going after control of the factors as much as possible. However, you can’t control every factor all the time, and it’s likely that at some point, asthma will flare up despite everything you tried. You’ll get back up, just like riding a bike.

It’s important to have some kind of exercise that keeps you motivated and active. It will help keep excess weight off and improve lung function. I’m learning to keep junk food out of the house and drive past the drive-thru windows. When I’m not wheezing or tight, I do workouts that emphasize deep breathing; it strengthens the intercostals and all the muscles that assist the lungs. I’ve noticed that continued, frequent workouts that don’t trigger my asthma have actually scaffolded up so I can do more, for longer periods of time. High on my list of real-life heroes: Beth is able to race bikes in the mud because she’s got this figured out. Jessica is biking, running and swimming in preparation for a triathlon (and chasing after three very active boys, so she's getting extra workouts). As soon as I can swim greater distances, I’ll jump into a triathlon, too. That’s what plans can do for people with asthma.

Asthma plans can’t “cure” us, they just help us unleash our possibilities.

Asthma And Cycling: Got A Pen?

2011-04-20T23:40:00.000-07:00

Cycling Emergency Checklist

Spare tube: Check.

Multi tool: Check.

Patch Kit: Check.

Epi-pen: Wait....what?

I’ve been hedging my bets that I’ll never need to use an epi-pen (a portable little shot of epinephrine that treats an anaphylactic reaction). I used to have one, but it was such a hassle to have along, you know? It doesn’t quite fit into a pocket, and I refuse to carry a man-bag around with me. Epi-pens can’t be stored in places that get too hot or cold. So they’re just not very convenient, you see.

Remember the “triggers” that were mentioned in the last post? Well, when it comes to anaphylaxis, these are the usual triggers that get people into trouble:

Foods, especially nuts, fruit, fish
Drugs, including pain-killers
Latex
Bee Stings
Exercise, especially after food intake
Unknown triggers (about 25% of cases)

I’m thinking about how many of these triggers are part of a cyclist’s normal routine. Yikes.

Although I’ve never used an epi-pen, the truth is I’ve needed one several times and just didn’t have one with me. Like the times I thought I was eating a peanut (not allergic), but was actually eating a cashew (severely allergic). With even the tiniest piece of a tree nut, my mouth will immediately start to tingle, then comes the itchy swelling in my mouth. Quietly I panic, somehow convincing myself that I can just wait it out. Yeah, that never works. No epi-pen, either. Scary.

Come to think of it, I’ve gotten pretty good at scaring all of the people closest to me. Nice.

Anaphylaxis is the strongest of allergic reactions. It’s usually accompanied by symptoms that don’t go away on their own. Swelling is just the first thing on the list. There’s also obstructed airways, severe asthma, vomiting, hives, even cardiac arrest. The best response is to call 911 and use an epi-pen. These signs can disappear and reappear over a 12-hour period, so you need to go see a doctor. During a bad reaction I can convince myself that I’ve got things under control (my usual response), and I could be completely wrong. Deaths to anaphylaxis are rare, but almost always happen no epi-pen is around. I've been playing the odds.

Now let’s imagine that this is happening 50 miles from home while bicycling on a country road. When I ride, I’m prepared for almost every kind of emergency, just not the one that might kill me. So if I get into a jam out there, I’d have to improvise while I’m in the middle of a reaction.

I’m exactly that statistic that doctors warn about, and I’m no exception. There are a lot of people just like me who don’t have epi-pens, but should. It’s sort of like having a fire extinguisher in your home. You probably never will need it, but it’s really smart to have one.

My asthma plan is seriously incomplete, and it will be, until I get a prescription, fill it, and have it with me when I ride. More to follow.

Asthma and Cycling: Yep.

2011-04-17T20:50:00.000-07:00

Now that a few dry days are ahead, more of us will happily head out on our bikes and not have to worry about cleaning our chains and wheels afterward! However, we'll be out there just in time for the plants and grasses to open up and release their pollen into the air. For people with asthma, this is our annual battle with nature. In the Willamette Valley, nature always gets the upper hand. If we want to enjoy riding bikes or jogging or just being outdoors, we must have a plan for dealing with the stuff that makes us sick. It's horrible when your asthma keeps you sidelined indoors, while there's all this greenery and beauty to be enjoyed outside.

Good roads for riding, and green everywhere in the Willamette Valley

The National Asthma Education and Prevention Program says that about 8% of the U.S. population suffers from asthma. But many more have allergies of one kind or another and there are some clear connections. Asthma, allergies, and eczema often show up in a “combo pack” of sorts. They're all just inflammation of one kind or another, a reaction from an over-sensitivity to something. Like most other folks with allergies and asthma, I am sensitive to certain foods, dust, smoke, pollen, dander, etc. and when I encounter more than my body can tolerate, inflammation happens. I struggle to take a full breath, because inside my lungs, everything is swollen. Makes sense.

Obviously, we need to be avoid the things that trigger inflammation. But that's not as easy as it sounds, otherwise none of us would be struggling to manage our asthma. The problem is that so many triggers fly around in our air all the time. Also, some of us get asthma when we're merely exerting ourselves physically. So it's not always possible to anticipate the triggers beforehand. That's why we really need a good plan. After nearly fifty years of figuring out what does and doesn’t work, sometimes the hard way, I’ve at least figured out that much.

Why is having an asthma plan so important? Because getting in a jam with this stuff can be serious. Even fatal. Looking back at the scary episodes I've had, the common theme in all of them was that I had no plan, and therefore wasn’t prepared for dealing with the problem when it happened.

So, what’s a good asthma plan look like? Well, I'm something of an expert in all the non-examples! But I'm also learning a ton and in the next couple of posts, I'll share what I'm learning about recent developments in the last couple of years. It's important to those of us who love being outside. There's hope!

Springtime Scenery At Rowena Crest

2011-04-11T22:00:00.000-07:00

Did you ever find yourself in a place of such amazing scenery, you just had to capture it with a camera, only to realize you left the camera at home? Click here and you’ll understand why, five years later, I’m still kicking myself for that. The colors on these wildflowers were on fire that day.

Sometime this spring I hope to return to Rowena Crest, to see if I can capture these wildflowers while they’re in bloom. It’s one of many treasures in the Columbia Gorge. You'll find it east of Hood River, just past the little town of Mosier. The views of the river, the gorge, and the vegetation, will take your breath away. Hey, if you don’t have a springtime bucket list, you should make this the one and only item and get there before Mother’s Day, before the colors fade away. And if we get there this srping, let’s all promise to bring our cameras along, shall we?

Rowena Crest...from somebody else's camera

This picture was sent in by my buddy Glenn. He and I were on a bike ride and this is truly the way I remember the colors on that day.

Here are a few more enticements for you to make this a great biking or walking trip:

The Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. Start at the West Trailhead (just east of Hood River). Enjoy the Twin Tunnels and a very abrupt shift from Western to Central Oregon scenery.

Grab coffee in Mosier at 10-Speed East coffee shop. Just being seen there increases your coolness by 10%.

Check out Grant McOmie’s piece on Rowena Crest.

DISCLAIMER: Ride Bikes Drink Coffee assumes no liability for the wind you may encounter on your outing to Rowena Crest. It's a gorge, after all. Deal.

Going By The Books

2011-04-09T22:21:00.000-07:00

Recently I’ve been reading books written by people who went on really big trips and left their cars behind. Reading them is a good way to travel vicariously. These books seem to just jump off the nightstand into my hands at night, and I devour their pages until I’m too bleary-eyed to continue. That’s usually about two paragraphs or so. No matter, I just get to enjoy them all that much longer.

I was so entertained by a book my mother-in-law gave me, One Inch Above The Water: Running Away on America’s Rivers. It was written by Jim Payne, who happens to be the organist at her church in Sandpoint, Idaho. He has traversed some of America’s biggest waterways, solo, in a kayak. Payne is a retired professor who settled in Idaho, and allowed his curiosity of what’s around the next bend in the water to take him to many of America’s most important rivers and lakes. The trip down the entire length of the Columbia River (taken in segments) gave me a brand new perspective of the Pacific Northwest. His self-deprecating humor combines with a sense of wonder about things he encounters on his trips. When you’re alone in a kayak for weeks, I suppose you have time to wonder. His book is hard to find in stores, but it can be ordered online. It's worth getting. You may catch yourself smiling and even laughing aloud as you read his reflections.

I also found a brand new book about a bicycle trip across America taken by Alice and Bobbi, two friends who rode from Astoria, Oregon to Bar Harbor, Maine. They kept an ongoing journal of the places and people they encountered, and turned it into a book, Across America by Bicycle, that is well worth reading. It’s a little bit of everything you’d expect on a long bike tour...leaving your life at home for an extended period of time, putting in long hours of grueling work every day, contending with weather, the beauty and diversity of the landscape, and the stories of each town you pass through along the way.

"A heartfelt account of crossing America on two wheels from a pair of gutsy women. Alice and Bobbi prove it’s never too late to put a dream into high gear, to let the road reveal a country and the true meaning of friendship.”

—Joe Kurmaskie, author of Metal Cowboy,Momentum Is Your Friend, and Mud, Sweat, and Gears

This book just came out in the fall of 2010, and should be available at the local book store or library (well, as soon as I return my copy to the library, anyway).

These kinds of books appeal to a reader’s own personal sense of adventure. We all wonder what big audacious trip we might be capable of taking, and here are some ordinary people who show us it can be done. What really goes through our minds is whether we’ll ever take the same kind of opportunity. I hope I will. Maybe I'll write a book about it, too.

Interestingly, there’s another strong theme that weaves through these journeys. It’s the sense that there are truly remarkable people just about everywhere you go. Somehow, bikes and kayaks seem to bring these folks out of the woodwork. Payne calls them “Good Samaritans,” and Alice and Bobbi describe them as “Road Angels.” Throughout their travels, the writers met people who sincerely wanted to learn about their journeys, and offered genuine hospitality to them. Lasting relationships were created out of these chance encounters, and people got written into the stories that later became books. This is restorative to one’s belief that despite the headlines, a good majority of people are truly decent and generous.

These are books that I really didn’t want to finish. I became melancholy as I realized that journeys must ultimately reach their final destinations, and good books have to end at some point. Still, I put off reading the last ten pages or so until I just couldn’t stand it any longer.

I’m hoping there are more books like these waiting for me to find them at the library. Maybe you’ve got some you’d suggest.

Far Away and Home Again

2011-04-05T06:33:00.000-07:00

Remember when you were five, the sensation of rolling on your two-wheel bike, all by yourself for the first time. The momentum, the wind, the joy, and the relief when you realized you could steer and brake and not crash. You did it...you figured it out. Disbelief gave way to confidence as you rode and rode, pedaling in circles and figure 8’s until dinner could not wait any longer. Exhausted and elated, you walked inside the house, taller, older. You knew your range had just increased beyond the driveway, and all the rules and limitations and boundaries that had contained you had to be renegotiated.

T-Bone, G, Timster

You got a little older and could ride a few houses away, just beyond your mom’s view from the front window. Gradually you rode a block away, then two. You found new hills, jumps, paths, and puddles. You figured out how to get up off the seat and pedal fast and hard for acceleration. There was so much to learn: skids. wheelies, speed, air, landing, not crashing. Crashing, but getting back up. Wiping the tears, straightening the handlebars, riding again. You’d set your bike against a tree and explore a new creek or fort somebody had built. Faster, farther, you and your bike demanded that the world keep expanding for you.

Every time you ventured away, you would inevitably turn around and head back for home, the place where you knew you belonged. The return trip seemed so much shorter than the ride out. You knew what to expect on the way back, and before long things familiar came back into view: your neighborhood, your block, your street, your driveway, home. Going far away, coming home again, this is the blessing of riding.

Fast forward to present day. Your schedule is filled with three hundred things that keep you from hopping on your bike as often as you did back then. The time you might use to ride is very limited; even leisure time is crowded now, and you may feel too worn out to want to do something physical. Besides, your car takes you to all of your destinations, complete with cupholders, stereo, temperature control, comforts. At some point, however, you begin to realize that there was an inherent joy in riding a bicycle, and you miss it. The undeniable joy of wind, momentum, and self-propulsion brings back a feeling like none other.

Moreover, riding a bike lets you notice more things. The contours of your own neighborhood become more real when you ride them instead of driving them. When you’re not encased in glass and steel, you’re interacting with nature rather than merely observing it. Your pedals give chase to destinations farther away from home. You take in views of your surroundings that you’d never really noticed before. Not like you’re doing now, anyway. These rides reacquaint you with your corner of the world, sensory experiences that expand your love for its wildlife, its geography, and all the peculiarities that make it special. You are grateful to have this new kinship with the area you call home.

Your body and your bike make agreements how to work together. You like conquering the challenge of a headwind, hills, rain, big mileage. You wonder what it would be like to leave the car at home and ride to work sometimes. Maybe you could do a century, or a tour, or an organized ride. Maybe you still have some racing you want to do, or you want to go experience a forest from the handlebars. You begin to wonder about more ambitious rides that take you far from home...a ride of epic proportion. Maybe you go a little crazy and you ride from Seattle to Portland with 10,000 other kids who never fully grew up. Maybe you create your own solo tour from Phoenix to Denver. How about Cycle Oregon or another big ride? Why not ride across America after you retire?

Why not? After all, you can ride your two-wheeler, all by yourself.

Sprung!

2011-04-03T07:13:00.000-07:00

Man, I love April. Blue sky, then heavy rain against a backdrop of glaring sunshine, then more blue sky. All in less than fifteen minutes! It's just nice to feel like we've turned a corner from the relentless gray, dull rain we've experienced for so long. Spring has indeed, finally, sprung. Trees are waking up, some colorful blooms are popping open, and yes, a little bit of blue sky between the showers. I'll take it.

Yesterday’s morning ride out to my folks’ house in West Salem gave me the opportunity to do some climbing while the sun and rain took their turns overhead. Most of this ride is downright pleasurable, although I’ve learned to keep my wits about me along that lower stretch of Wallace Road. That’s an intense area for riding because of all the ways cars come at you, at a pretty fast clip.

Once you head away from that congestion, however, the hills and views in West Salem are worth the effort. I rode hard up these hills, knowing that Dad’s pancakes would be the reward after the climbing I had to do. My family arrived by car just as I pulled up on my bike. T-Bone is home for a few days, and it was good for his grandparents to see him and find out the latest on college and of course his love life. We stayed and ate and visited a while with Mom and Dad, then back into the schizophrenic weather. Rain, hard sun, drizzle, etc.

Another reward during yesterday’s ride was seeing the cherry blossoms down at the Capitol. They were putting on quite the oh-my-goodness show for folks who were visiting and strolling along the grounds. The strong sweet smell of daphne would crowd its way into the senses occasionally, an intoxicating aroma that is associated with spring and sunshine. This is one of the best times of the year to come down to the Capitol, or some other place loaded with blossoms right now, and take some pictures, and walk around a bit.

If it’s raining, just wait a few minutes. Remember, we’re in April now.

More rain...yay.

2011-03-27T22:39:00.000-07:00

Has anybody else noticed the change in the weather? Yeah, me neither! Here in the Willamette Valley, we have been in this perpetual 45-degree gray, rainy, pattern for a very, very long time. I guess this week, the rain is supposed to get a little warmer. Yay.

We’re all ready for sun, but that’s apparently not in the cards for at least a little while longer. Besides, we all know that there are folks in other parts of the world whose lives have been turned upside-down by natural and man-made disasters. These folks will need our continued prayers, compassion, and outreach. In the mean time, we can certainly handle some more weeks of Oregon puddles, just fine.

If this had been a drier winter, I’m sure many of us would have ridden more. Instead I’ve gone indoors, trying to get a little lighter and leaner in time for spring. It’s been equal amounts of attention to running, spinning, and swimming in preparation for a triathlon. For this first-ever attempt, it will definitely be a “sprint” event (the shortest of triathlons). Typically that’s a 750 meter swim, 20k cycling, and 5k running.

Training has been a good way to be focused, motivated, and humble. I'm sharing the gym with some folks who appear to be my age and older, whose speed and endurance far exceed mine. The best training sessions have caused me to confront fatigue, pain, and self-doubt. It’s so strange, though; just an hour or so after I’ve been beaten up by a workout, I’m already planning for the next one. Weird!

This is a new and unfamiliar thing for me. Always too busy with work to spend time in the gym, scrambling with family schedules, eating at the drive-thru way too often, I wasn’t paying attention to how fast the pounds were adding up and my health was slipping away. Energy levels, joint pain, stamina, stress, they were all in a downward spiral. Those things have dramatically improved with these regular workouts.

And oddly, I have to thank the rain.

Visiting That Other Capital

2011-03-25T17:48:00.000-07:00

Mrs. C and I took Nat on a trip to Washington DC on Spring Break. During the trip, G was able to join us for almost 24 hours during a trip of his own.

This was Nat’s first time visiting Washington. First destination on her "DC Bucket List:" Georgetown Cupcakes (aka the site for the cable show “DC Cupcakes.”)

Yes, these cupcakes really do deserve their own cable show. They're that good. Apparently, Nat is not the only person who knows about this TV phenomenon. The waiting line was never shorter than 30 minutes out the door!

I noticed that there were lots of folks on bikes, sharing crowded streets with impatient traffic. Despite the very tight clearances and narrow lanes, everybody seemed to be staying alive. Renting bikes was an option, but it felt risky. Besides, we were visiting spots where we’d have to leave the bikes unattended, so we hoofed it instead. That sort of helped to burn off the cupcakes we devoured.

If you like to walk, Washington DC is a really great city to visit. Everything is quite close in proximity, but you still have to get from place to place. There are just so many places! So plan to walk a lot when you’re there!

The picture above is the National Cathedral, a good walk straight uphill from Georgetown. It is beautiful.

One of my favorite new spots in the middle of it all, literally, is the World War II Memorial that was completed in 2004. It’s very close to the Washington Monument in the National Mall.

Those of us with Milwaukie connections should recall that in 2000, MHS students donated $10,000 to this memorial. The school was honored with an invitation to have three students come to the White House for an honorary reception for the major donors. We met then President Clinton, Senator Robert Dole, and several other dignitaries in the White House on that occasion.

This is my third time to DC since the WWII Veterans Memorial has been completed, and each time I see something there that I missed before. It is a very interactive place, inviting the visitor to walk around and view it from several angles.

Knowing that the students of Milwaukie High worked so hard to raise money and give one of the largest school-based donations to this cause, and knowing their history of honoring veterans and listening to their stories, this memorial is special. I’m so proud to have been a teacher and an administrator there for so much of my career, for so many reasons. That school, its staff, and the students there still have a big chunk of my heart. Life moves us all forward, doesn't it? And places such as this help to move important memories forward with us.

The camera seemed to really like this spot. Please click to enlarge!

Yes, This Is Our Congressman!

2011-03-08T22:19:00.001-08:00

Thanks to G for forwarding this clip. A fun interview with Earl Blumenauer, Oregon's bow-tie wearing congressman. He's also the founder and co-chair of the Congressional Bike Caucus.

Just Dessert

2011-03-07T22:31:00.000-08:00

I really would like to get lighter for riding this spring.

My biggest problem is my tendency to graze after dinner. My brain tries to convince the rest of my body that I’m still hungry, so even though I’ve eaten enough at dinner time, I go find more stuff to eat. Sometimes I can resist the urge, other times not so much. I'm pretty sure I'm not alone!

One possible remedy: food that imitates food. You know those little “why bother” items you can pick up at the store...fat free, sugar free, you read the nutrition labels and everything says “zero.” There's apparently no food value in these things, and I don't make a habit of eating them, but they actually do a nice job when I’m in a pinch.

Here’s a night-time creation borne out of just such a necessity.

You take some “why bother” chocolate pudding, add some “why bother” non-dairy whip (you probably don’t want to read the ingredients...trust me), and a handful of peanuts (the real kind will do).

Layer them just like they do at the local soft-serve place. It’s not an identical taste, but you know, it’s actually pretty good! And only 100 calories instead of 700 for the real thing.

I call this, “Peanut Bluster Par-faux.”

Riding With Pablo

2011-03-06T20:20:00.000-08:00

A month or so ago, my buddy Pablo finally picked out his new ride. It’s a sweet new Trek Madone, which I finally got to see today when he brought it over for a spin. I don’t see Pablo as often now that we live 50 miles apart, and our schedules don’t allow us many opportunities to connect. This afternoon, we got our chance.

Pablo was coming my way, so I had to think up how best to show off Salem to him from the handlebars. I chose to start with the fun climb/descent that leads to Ankeny, then we hooked up with the Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway for a bit, and then over to Independence before we returned home. We’re still a few weeks off from seeing Spring really green things up, but all of these sights still had their own kind of beauty. Especially along the water. It’s hard to beat 46 miles of good riding on a Sunday afternoon with a good, good friend.

There is very little car traffic on these roads; for the most part we got to ride alongside each other, catching up on what’s happening with kids and jobs, spouses, church, etc. We stopped occasionally just to look around, especially at the marshes. The scenery was stunning; although we couldn’t quite see the mountains today, the wildlife made up for it. Dusky Canada Geese were quite busy in the air and on the water, never really stopping in any one place for very long. At one point we were riding directly underneath a group of more than a hundred of them, flying low and loud. It was kinda trippy.

Pablo has been enjoying cycling for a while, but he realized it was time for the old heavy Rockhopper to be replaced. He’d been shopping around for some time, and made a very good choice. Seeing him so happy on his new wheels, I was reminded what wonderful gifts are given to us every day. The ability to ride, the amazing Oregon sights, good road, and great friends....that was what today was about. I was glad to share my “backyard” with my friend.

A Lean Green Machine

2011-02-23T22:39:00.000-08:00

Cyclists are constantly seeking ways to make our feather-light bikes just a little bit lighter and faster. Even if your bike only weighs 17 lbs, you'll lay down a big wad of money to shave off another few ounces, and maybe get it down to 16.5.

Well, how about making the cyclist a little lighter and faster? That's been my focus lately. I'm thinking I can drop more than just a few ounces, too.

Part of what I'm doing to get lighter is that I'm eating differently. I've started drinking my vegetables.

My mother-in-law suggested we try this green smoothie recipe. I think it was introduced a couple of years ago by Dr. Oz. You know, the wizard.

So, we've been giving it a try...a half glass in the morning. One look at the ingredients will tell you that this is some seriously healthy stuff; high in fiber and vitamins, low in calories.

It takes some effort just to chop up all the fresh vegetables and fruit, then you mash it up in a blender for a while. I'm not convinced it really qualifies as a smoothie, however. It's still a bit gritty and grassy-tasting.

But you know, now that a few of those stubborn pounds have suddenly fallen off, this stuff doesn't taste half bad!

Cheers!

President's Day: Jefferson

2011-02-21T17:39:00.000-08:00

Apparently we’re going to get some snow on the valley floor in a couple of days. You sure couldn’t tell from today’s weather: sunny, dry, and 50 degrees. Perfect for a President’s Day holiday ride.

Today’s route: the Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway, from Salem to Jefferson and back.

I couldn’t resist stopping at the Ankeny Wildlife Refuge on my way by. It’s such a treat. As I pulled into the viewpoint at Eagle Marsh, I startled a Blue Heron just a few feet away. Unfolding its huge wings, it flapped a few times, and glided fifty yards over the water to the opposite shore.

A photographer with several cameras on tripods had been the only person there, sitting quietly inside the viewing structure filming the birds. I’m sure he wasn’t happy that I scared off the heron. I decided to not make things worse by walking up and starting a conversation with him. I found my own viewing spot and ate a sandwich.

Outside Seating at Papa's Place, Jefferson OR

Across the water I could see a Great Egret, ducks and geese, and several other birds that I couldn’t possibly identify. I don’t think it’s just my imagination; many birds seem to be pairing up a lot these days. Hmmm....I wonder what that’s all about...

Back on the road, I headed south for Buena Vista, then Talbot, and finally Jefferson. That was a quick, delightful 20 mile stretch of road ridng! Along the ride, there are countless farms, fantastic views across the valley, and miles of smooth, uninterrupted riding. You can go for several minutes without encountering a single car. In fact, from downtown Jefferson to Ankeny Wildlife Refuge (about 11 miles), three vehicles passed me. I’m tellin’ ya, Portlanders, you have to come down and ride these roads!

I stopped in at Papa’s Place in Jefferson for--what else--a cup of coffee. “Papa” was there, although he seems a bit young for the name. He visited with me while I sipped my coffee. I got a lesson on small-town life, and enjoyed the personal interaction from this self-admitted, larger-than-life character. His place is a good spot for a pit-stop if you’re riding the Scenic Bikeway. There’s plenty of seating indoors and out, and they’re super friendly to out-of-town visitors. Especially us two-wheeling types.

I headed back for home against a slight headwind, glad for the occasional windbreaks from the trees, the sunshine, and the flat roads. It was nice to reach for the drops, hit the right gear and sustain a good cadence for a while.

This Scenic Bikeway is really great for folks who want to enjoy great views without having to fight the car traffic.

A Minto-Brown Island Ride Pairs Well With Clockworks Cafe

2011-02-20T14:57:00.000-08:00

Mrs. C and I had some fun together riding our bikes at Minto-Brown Island Park, followed by a visit to our new favorite coffee spot, Clockworks Cafe.

Winter shows no signs yet of relinquishing its hold at Minto-Brown Island; while some of the trees in residential areas have already popped open with early blossoms, that’s not the case here. Spring still seems a long way off.

The multi-use paths are wide enough to accommodate everyone fairly well. There was much more foot and paw traffic than bikes today, which I think is usually the case. This is not the place to get on your bike and wind it out on the pedals. It’s a place to roll at a more leisurely speed, have a conversation with your riding partner, and enjoy the scenery.

At one point in the ride we were in a heavily wooded area and bounced over some huge tree ruts in the pavement. At the same time the path took an abrupt turn on a bit of a slope. The path was a lot slicker than it appeared, and Mrs. C’s back wheel slid out as she cornered. This appeared to be an over-the-handlebars crash in the making, with a very large boulder directly in her path. However, she pulled an impressive maneuver by releasing her brake, rolling back upright and then turning the front wheel just before it slammed the boulder. Still sitting upright, not so much as an owie. Nobody could have done it any better! We did a commemorative knuckle-bump, and kept on riding.

We had promised ourselves a trip to Clockworks Cafe after riding. This is one of our new favorite spots. It’s spacious, they serve good coffee and other stuff, they offer wireless, and they have a place all set for live entertainment. This is a great spot to meet a friend for conversation, or to just find a table and do some people-watching out the window. Definitely worth a visit, especially after a ride.

Pardon the Pun...

2011-02-14T06:29:00.000-08:00

No bikes, no coffee in this post. Today, we turn to another favorite topic: puns. For me, the most delightful pun deliveries take some set-up. Following is the telling of a true story, one of my greatest pun deliveries of all time.

Set-ups are fun. If you can sound factual and keep from smiling, you might just pull it off. Like the time a group of us had somebody believing that the Department of Interior was in charge of interior decorating for the entire nation. And the smarter they are, the harder they fall. You just have to be patient with the set-up. Then, just hook ‘em and reel ‘em in.

If you don't enjoy a good pun, stop reading now.

Some years ago I was with a large group touring Europe. We were in the very quaint Bavarian village of Rothenburg ob der Tauber in Germany, a unique town because of its many buildings that have been preserved since medieval times. A large portion of the town has remained undisturbed for centuries, and now draws thousands of tourists each year because of its historic charm. As you walk the cobblestone streets within the city wall that has protected this town for so long, you are experiencing history in a way that’s difficult to put into words. You literally feel you’ve walked into a movie set.

One of the very oldest structures in the town is Zur Höll, a restaurant/tavern that dates back to about 900 A.D. Its name literally means “To Hell,” and it’s a popular place with the tourists for obvious reasons. I mean, who could resist telling a friend to meet up there later in the day, just so you could tell them, “I’ll see you in Höll!” The food there is pretty good and the decor is quite tasteful, but it’s the name that draws people there, I’m sure.

Also on this tour was a good friend and colleague, Gary the Saint. He had been to this town several times before, and told me all the places I should go see. Yes, he actually told me to “Go to Höll,” but of course he was meaning the restaurant, not the place of eternal suffering. At least, I think that’s what he meant...

Anyway, we decided we’d both meet up there later on that evening, but first, I wanted to catch the Night Watchman’s tour. It was fascinating and well worth the time. I learned so much about the town and its history and was glad just to walk the streets and imagine what village life was like so long ago.

Just as the tour ended I saw Gary and he asked me how the tour went. He would regret asking me that. This was the opportunity for the set-up.

“You wouldn’t believe everything I learned,” I said. I decided to tell him a few truths first, just to set the bait for the pun.

“The night watchman would sing from the walls every hour, just to assure the people that all was well. He’d be on the lookout all night for intruders and thieves, but the real danger to the town was fire.”

This went on for a little while, and I could tell he was eager to hear more. It was time to reel him in. Keep in mind, we were getting closer to “Höll” at this point.

“Even these cobblestones have a story,” I said as we walked on them. “Many have worn down over time, but if you look closely you can still find some that have inscriptions on them.”

“What? I’ve never heard that before.” He said.

Of course not...I’m making this part up.

“True story. The townspeople thought it brought them good luck. The village cobbler would inscribe things on the stones like, ‘Make peace,’ or ‘Help the poor.’ Always good things, though. They’d never say bad things. That might bring them harm. I saw a couple of these stones. I wish I’d had my camera along.”

I had him now. I could tell because his eyes got wider, and he pressed for more information. It was as if he’d thought maybe I could show him one of these inscribed cobblestones right on the spot. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely. As a matter of fact, this is where the phrase originated, “The road to Höll is paved with good intentions!”

Stunned silence...never saw that coming.

Punned.

Honk

2011-02-12T14:59:00.000-08:00

It had been a while since I last rode out to Ankeny Wildlife Refuge. What a treasure for our community. It's only a few miles, and there's just enough of a climb leaving town to make it a workout getting there and back.

I wondered what critters I might get to see today, and I certainly wasn't disappointed when I got there.

Over a dozen great egrets were acting as the greeting committee on Ankeny Hill Road.

A few bald eagles sat perched in trees, and several ducks were basking in the ponds.

Other birds were busy chattering, and you could hear some frogs chiming in occasionally.

Most entertaining of all were the hundreds of geese, squawking and moving from place to place. When they took flight together, they became a low-flying cloud of flapping, honking mayhem. If you click on the second picture, you can see them just above the tree line. Several hundreds at a time, they owned the sky, loud and proud.

None of the birds seemed willing to pose for “up close and personal” photo opportunities. I snapped a few landscape pics where the birds look like little specks...man, I need a telephoto lens.

Still, it was special just being there, clearing the mind, looking at nature.

And some old tires.

I checked the entire internet from start to finish, and nowhere could I find a tire recycling center that was part of the Ankeny Wildlife Refuge.

It’s as if somebody just...just dumped the tires there. Could that be?

Naah.

Nobody would be that thoughtless, right?

The "Souper Bowl"

2011-02-06T11:59:00.000-08:00

This one Sunday, when a singular sporting event captures the imagination and hype like no other in America, the Super Bowl...

...this one day, on which a game is the pinnacle of professional success for those who play and love the sport of football...

...this one Sunday when folks actually look forward to watching the commercials...

...is also known as “Souper Bowl Sunday.”

True story. Back in 1990, a simple prayer offered at a church in South Carolina went something like this: "Lord, even as we enjoy the Super Bowl football game, help us be mindful of those who are without a bowl of soup to eat.”

From that simple prayer arose an inspired thought, then a vision, then an action, and finally, a movement. It’s all about fighting hunger. Since 1990, Souper Bowl Sunday has generated over $70 million for food banks and soup kitchens in America, thanks to energized youth and their leaders, who have mobilized by collecting donations in soup pots and given the money over to a local charity of their choosing.

A simple idea, gone viral.

Last year alone, Souper Bowl Sunday generated $10 million. That’s a lot of prime time commercials on game day. And the trend is moving upward. It’s now an organization that has a staff, a mission statement, a board, the whole thing is growing.

Oregonians should be familiar with an ugly statistic: we are in the third hungriest state in the nation.

Third. Hungriest.

Over 500,000 people face food insecurity every day in this state. That includes people who have struggled to get back on their feet after losing a job, a home, a future, in a really difficult economy. It means that they have to make choices between food and other basic necessities, and often times, they are going without adequate food.

Those of us with enough, and with more than enough, must continue to see ourselves in the solutions to this problem. And what a better time than right now--as we gather around the guacamole--to remind ourselves of this fact.

So, as we dip the chips, watch the game, cheer for our favorite team, laugh at the ridiculous commercials, and rock out to the Black Eyed Peas at halftime, I encourage us all, dear readers, to make a contribution.

You can donate directly to the Souper Bowl Website, or just choose a hunger organization locally to donate to and make it count as part of this special effort.

Go team.

Stopped In Our Tracks

2011-02-05T10:38:00.000-08:00

Pablo sent me this picture yesterday. He just returned from New Zealand, which he says is very friendly place for cyclists. This picture reminds us that in most corners of the planet, wherever lots of people are, there will be multiple modes of transportation, and they inevitably must intersect. Cars, buses, trains, trolleys, bikes, and pedestrians, we all have to look out for each other...and for ourselves.

Steve-O can tell you from personal experience what it feels like to have your front wheel get sucked down into a rail channel, and to be hurtled over your handlebars onto the pavement. It certainly has changed how I ride around rails now.

Steve-O's no daredevil, and he doesn't take unnecessary risks. He's not exactly certain what all happened in that instant when he went down. Who knows. His advice now is, don't cheat the angle. Be overly careful. It's not worth losing a season over it. Sign or no sign, riders must slow way down and take a perpendicular path when crossing. Knowing what he's gone through since that mishap, I feel compelled to remind us all to heed this advice.

Rails are dangerous for other reasons as well.

They can be slick in cold or wet weather. Keep that in mind if you're on skinny slick tires.
Rails can be extremely uneven with the pavement. Watch your path, and stay loose as you roll over them.
Rails usually have moving trains on them! One may be coming your way, so be observant.

I've been part of some ride events where the route is out on a country road, there's a train track, and the pavement around it has been patched multiple times. It's really uneven and dangerous. Some ride organizers have actually put sheets of plywood or thick rubber matting over the rails as a precaution. They also post signs advising riders to slow down. Here's the thing: after the event, they take the plywood home with them. The bumpy rails are still just as bumpy. So, slow down.

Sure it's not as much fun going slower. Taking a few mph off our speed, adding a few extra seconds to the trip, and the additional energy it takes to bring the pedaling cadence back up, it's all worth it if it means we're still out there, doin' our thing and havin' fun.

So...thanks, Pablo, for the picture! Can't wait to hear more about your trip. Steve-O, I'm looking forward to seeing you back on your bike soon. It's been too long.

Cyclists: when you cross tracks, take it slow, Joe.

Oak Trees

2011-01-31T21:59:00.000-08:00

You can’t be in the heart of the Willamette Valley for long without noticing our big Oregon White Oak trees. These ancient dome-shaped structures are conspicuous in their size and shape, taller than most buildings, wide at the base, with primary limbs--themselves the size of tree trunks--reaching up and out, supporting their scraggly branches that point off in every direction.

Oak trees always seem out of place in the city. Their big shallow root systems heave with the weather, making cracks in sidewalks and driveways. Massive limbs (we call them “widowmakers”) break off, falling to the ground with a heavy "thud" during windstorms and silver thaws. Moss and lichen, bugs, all at home in the oaks, constantly make messes on cars and homes. No doubt about it, these trees are happiest out in the country.

I love riding past a grove of oak trees, imagining all the stories and secrets they have known and kept during their lifetimes. Many of the ones with us today were already a century old when Jason Lee arrived with a group of missionaries, and scores of settlers arrived from the eastern states. These are some of the oldest things living in the valley. Year by year, ring upon ring, they have been here through this area's entire modern history. From their earliest days when oak savannas stood over the grasslands, they now stand watch over well-tended orchards of cherries and hazelnuts, rows of grapes and hops, turf grasses and dairy pastures.

I can’t explain why exactly, but something happens to me when I see a gnarly old oak tree standing all by itself in an open field. It makes me think of a earlier, simpler time, long before I was alive. I remember as a kid, doing pen and ink drawings of these scenes. Still today I like to photograph them. These stately old trees connect us to a past we’ve kept alive through stories and old photographs, of generations now gone.

Listening Sessions

2011-01-26T22:10:00.000-08:00

Tonight I got to check out one of the Open Houses put on by the City of Salem. The Bicycling and Pedestrian elements of the Transportation System Plan were the topic. On display were several ways to make things better for walking and riding in Salem and Keizer.

First let’s compliment the folks who have worked so hard to make this process so authentic. Public service is hard, hard work, and largely unappreciated. These leaders have demonstrated in so many ways that they are listening and taking all of us along through every step of the process. Because of their intentional efforts to engage the public multiple times and ways, nobody gets to complain about lack of communication or input. Bravo, City of Salem.

One of the bright spots of this visit for me was getting to meet fellow local bike blogger, Daniel Evans. That was such a cool, serendipitous moment! We both recognized each other right off and a great conversation ensued. Daniel and I talked about how this process needs to help make things feel safer for the occasional bike rider. We discussed the calming effects of bike boulevards, and how many crazy “Y” intersections we have around town. We agreed that more visionary, energetic folks will be needed to work together to help keep this bicycle process moving forward with the City.

Nice to meet you, Daniel. Your blog rocks. I look forward to riding with you soon!

Dashing off to the next appointment, I felt bad I couldn't stay longer. And I felt really optimistic about the future for bicycle riding in Salem.

Training? Tri This.

2011-01-25T05:57:00.000-08:00

Perhaps you’ve made 2011 the year that you are going to do your first triathlon. Maybe you’ve already done some races and you’d like to get to “the next level.” Or, you might be preparing for something else, and need some training and coaching resources.

Well, here you go.

A new blog was born over the weekend, specifically for you. Salem Triathlon Team is a free site with resources such as nutrition, training tips, and a list of nearby races. Group rides, workouts, and tri-clinics will be posted soon.

When you’re ready to get really focused on your training goals, how about a personalized, interactive online coach? That part will probably require a modest fee...but many folks prefer being coached rather than going it alone.

Most of what this site will offer is exactly the kind of stuff you need to be better informed, set new goals, be more accountable. For free.

My suggestion: follow this blog. Watch it grow. Step into your race.

Country Roads

2011-01-23T14:53:00.000-08:00

Spring Valley, West of Salem

Yesterday it seemed like the whole town ventured outdoors to enjoy the respite from the rain. We squinted hard in the glaring and unfamiliar sunshine. The Waterfront was hopping with folks playing frisbee, dogs walking their masters, and kids on little bikes with training wheels and streamers. Union Street Bridge was crowded enough that it tested a rider’s balance while finding a clear path between groups of people on foot. I didn’t mind waiting my turn, sharing the bridge and the views. Soon enough I would be out on country roads where there would be plenty of open space and fast riding. Wallace Road did not disappoint.

Mt. Hood from across Spring Valley

Bringing a camera along on rides always turns into a dilemma. Part of the joy of riding comes when you experience every contour of the road. The climb, the fast descent, the gentle turn, and the “what’s around the next corner,” that’s why you ride. The way to enjoy a country road is to roll on it. Once you stop to take pictures, you’ve completely changed the interaction you’re having with your ride. I passed by so many picture-worthy places along the way, but pressed on anyway.

We all have those places that take us back to our past. For me that’s West Salem. It’s comforting to retrace the winding route my grandparents had taken in their Rambler, up to their modest little farm at the top of Brush College Road. They’re gone now; somebody else is tending their little patch of paradise, and it has all changed. Still, memory can reconstruct just how it used to be: the little yellow house, the huge garden, and the old cherry orchard. Grandpa out with his horses, Grandma tending her flowers. I kept rolling by, grateful for a happy recollection.

Passing the farm, the climb was suddenly over, the descent lied just ahead. Now on the back side of the hill where the winter sun never reaches, the colder air was damp and permeated with heavy woodsmoke coming from the old farmhouse chimneys. No cars in either direction, I took my hands away from the brakes and jammed on the pedals. A whole new view unfolded as I entered Spring Valley at an exhilarating speed.

Spring Valley Church in Zena, est. 1859

This area seems unchanged in recent years. You get a sense that the folks out here have a long history, and that the stories from generations past are still very much intact. The church here apparently has a ghost...visitors often report the silhouette of a man on a bicycle who then disappears. Just to set the record straight for people, that scary man on a bike yesterday at 3:00 was just me.

Coming back into town, even more foot traffic on the Union Street Bridge. “This...this is way cool!” I overheard one man say. He was standing in one of the outcroppings of the bridge, looking directly down to the river below. He’s exactly right...this bridge is cool. A vintage structure that has been repurposed into something so useful and enjoyable. The folks responsible for turning this dream into a reality have to feel mighty pleased with the outcome.

A great weekend ride.

Nothin' But Blue Skies

2011-01-22T10:09:00.000-08:00

Today we get a little break from the rain. We have some blue sky. A little sunshine, even!

For our friends who live elsewhere, please try to understand why this is a big deal.

The Willamette Valley, flanked by the Coast and Cascade Ranges, sees its share of 40-degree rainy days during the winter months. Strong rain systems barrel in from the Pacific Ocean, packing a tremendous amount of moisture, saturating the valley and covering the mountains with snow. Rivers rise and crest, hillsides erode and slide downhill, low areas and flood plains collect water and sediment. It's all part of the ongoing cycle that gives us the lush green beauty we enjoy in later months. We're just not there yet.

It can become fairly monotonous to live with the gray. Dark gray. We get used to looking out our windows in the morning and seeing nothing but rainclouds and wet ground. We sigh, we wait, puddle-trudging, day after day. In this part of Oregon, windshield wipers sell faster than sunscreen, for sure.

Getting a sunny day like today offers some views that send a shock through us. Sometimes it can be weeks without seeing our beloved mountains: Hood, Jefferson, Adams, St. Helens. Even the foothills can go in and out of hiding. On a clear day the sun makes their fresh coats of snow look spectacular.

Things will begin to look different around here soon. The gray-brown sparseness of winter will gradually give way to greens and blooms that usher in the Spring. We'll be smelling blossoms again. Soon.

Here are some photos I took back in February 2010. Early signs of spring last year. Could these sights really only be one month away?

February 2010

Rock This Town

2011-01-21T18:05:00.000-08:00

Photo from KGW.com

Salem is certainly not timid...

...just yesterday, it got a little boulder.