tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20353599325576774202024-03-14T01:14:42.895-07:00Ride Bikes, Drink CoffeeKelly Carlisle considers life from the handlebars. And the coffee cup.Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.comBlogger230125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-69305021175851825462015-04-05T20:55:00.001-07:002015-04-05T20:55:15.045-07:00Back to the Gorge for a Longer Ride<div style="font-family: Helvetica;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">An overnight bike ride can be a fantastic mini-vacation for folks who just need a brief respite from their daily routines</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">. There are so many great overnight options in Oregon but at the top of my list was a return Columbia River Gorge. I haven't added any posts to this blog since my last ride there, but that was actually over a year ago. Time to ride and write! So, last week I took a couple of days off from work and with Mrs. C’s blessing, I set off for my own adventure.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vista House at Crown Point, along the Historic Columbia River Highway</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I decided to drive to Portlandia and begin the ride from there, heading east on the Springwater Trail and then to the Stark Street Bridge. You don’t feel the need to ride as fast when you’ve got camping gear loaded onto the bike; it felt amazing just to be out there, doing this ride regardless of the speed. The climb into Corbett allowed me to focus on my pedaling and breathing, and all the worries and stresses just sort of calmed down.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Chanticleer Point</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Historic Columbia River Highway could be all on its own a worthy attraction for tourists, thanks to the engineering and artisanship that created it a century ago. But it’s really the jaw-dropping viewpoints and waterfalls along this byway that draw thousands of visitors each year. Reaching the top of the hill, I paused just long enough to snap a few photos, eat a piece of chocolate, and enjoy the l-o-n-g winding descent that followed.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Ainsworth State Park had already opened for the season, thanks to the unusually warm winter and early spring weather. Spring Breakers filled the entire campground except for the hiker/biker area, a big grassy area which I had all to myself. Five bucks got me a camping spot, and another five got me a bundle of wood for a campfire. Hours of quiet contemplation by the fire brought me to that inevitable moment when, bleary-eyed, one decides to slip into the tent and surrender to a deep post-ride sleep.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stairwell</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Next morning I headed farther east using the trail that was recently added to the Historic Columbia River Highway route. This car-free, paved path from Ainsworth to Cascade Locks is quite scenic and a far better option for cyclists and hikers than the shoulder along the treacherous interstate. I was looking forward to trying out the well-known stairwell near the fishery; the groove along the steps is certainly helpful but given the added weight of all my gear I had to "portage" it in separate stages. Still, it's an impressive solution to a steep grade and I tip my helmet to the folks who made this possible.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cascade Locks and the Bridge of the Gods served as my turn-around point. I figured while I’m turning around I might as well stop in for a bite to eat. This is one of the great rewards of riding for several hours: eat as much as you want. I did. Another great perk of cycle touring is that you are instantly popular with everyone. The loaded bike inspires conversations about this kind of travel and people want to talk about it. There was never a stop along the way that didn't include at least one fun interaction with someone.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">An out-and-back bike ride lets you see the same sights you just saw, but from the other direction which is cool...and things seem much closer together on the return trip so it went fast. I got lucky with weather; almost no wind (in the gorge, no less!) and lots of sun. Clouds began to set in later in the day, and a half hour after my ride concluded, I was driving home in a pelting rain. Perfect timing! Now, a little over a week has gone by and I’m already feeling the gorge beckoning me back. </span></div>
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Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-5226360003117863642013-11-30T22:06:00.000-08:002013-12-01T06:24:49.629-08:00A Short Ride In The Columbia Gorge<div style="font-family: Helvetica;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Every cyclist should have the old Historic Columbia River Highway on their bucket list, whether you live right here in Oregon or as far away as, say, <a href="http://beininbenin.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Benin</a>. Any chance you get to ride a segment of this highway, do it. The HCRH is ever-improving for cyclists and hikers, and has has gotten some exciting press thanks to the recent completion of the project at <a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/travel/index.ssf/2013/11/historic_columbia_river_highwa_7.html" target="_blank">Moffett Creek</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Today’s outing had to be short so I chose one of the highway's most ridiculously scenic parts to ride. Multnomah Falls to Vista House and back provides a great climb and descent, some expansive views, and only a handful of cars sharing the road. A winter weather system is about to overtake this area, but today folks were here in droves to hike, bike, and take some pictures of the sights that make this the most visited spot in Oregon (if you don’t count the factory outlets, and I don’t).</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There’s no shortage of things to see and appreciate. Several examples of the highway’s original engineering and masonry have endured, adding to the allure for its visitors. The waterfalls that drop as much as 700 feet from the cliffs above are certainly the show-stoppers, and most are visible directly from the road. It would be tempting to make lots of stops, but if you’re on a bike, all you want to do is roll on the road. Photo ops will just have to wait. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Back in the car and driving away, I was already thinking about the next time I can ride this road again. It's still on the bucket list.</span></div>
Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-28139381256777873502013-11-11T21:42:00.000-08:002013-11-11T21:42:59.979-08:00Into The Wind<span style="font-size: large;">I had a couple of free hours in Portland today, and had my bike with me. I decided to return to one of my favorite spots, the Springwater Trail. It’s a nice urban trail with surprisingly few street crossings. I wanted to get away from being on the streets with car traffic, and this was just the ticket.</span><br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br />There’s talk of making this trail connect all the way to Mount Hood someday. I wonder how they got that idea...<br /><br />The East Winds coming down through the Columbia Gorge were a factor today, making it a formidable workout as I headed towards Gresham. It felt like being on an indoor trainer loaded high with resistance. At times, 15 mph was a moral victory. Of course, there are days when the East Winds can pretty much just stand you up and knock you right over, so I wasn’t about to complain!<br /><br />And why complain anyway, when you know what’s waiting when you turn back around for the return trip!</span>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-16042243258847356292013-10-26T15:54:00.001-07:002013-10-26T15:56:21.097-07:00A Misty Morning Ride<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Some of the best bike rides are the ones that aren't about exercise or even getting from point A to point B. The rides that we remember and appreciate tend to be slow and improvised, allowing us to be more attentive to the senses than usual. SIghts and sounds and smells that reside in the halls of the memory for a good long time. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This morning provided that kind of ride. On a cool and damp morning as I rode through the heavy mist, it felt good to go slow, and go wherever I wanted, to be fully present for whatever I was going to encounter.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Anyplace I went seemed to offer up something to enjoy. Something you couldn't capture from inside a car. The smell of wet leaves as I rolled over them, the heavy reverberations of a passing freight train, the sounds of kids and grownups laughing while on walks together, the smell of coffee and fresh baked bread as I rolled past a bakery shop, condensation collecting on my face and glasses.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I’m sure that eventually I’ll grow weary of the constant gray days that are now here, and so much a part of living in the Willamette Valley. I'll yearn for the return of those sunny warm days that spoil us in late summer and early fall. Right now this change is a welcome sign, beckoning me to throw on a layer or two, get out on the bike and enjoy what Fall has to offer.</span></div>
Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-89519908438096546172013-09-17T23:05:00.000-07:002013-09-17T23:05:12.874-07:00Salmon and Stroads<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wrong-way cyclists (aka salmon) crossing through busy lanes on Market Street in Salem during rush hour</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">You’ve probably noticed all the “salmon” out and about lately. That’s the nickname for people on bikes who insist on riding the wrong direction in some of our busiest traffic. Salmon will ride day or night, in the bike lane or shoulder, on and off the sidewalk, darting through oncoming traffic and busy parking lots. They defy everybody else to figure out how to react in time to not hit them. Scary.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Where are you most likely to find salmon? Stroads, of course! (If you need a refresher on what a stroad is exactly, look <a href="http://www.strongtowns.org/journal/2013/3/4/the-stroad.html" target="_blank"><b>here</b></a> and <a href="http://breakfastonbikes.blogspot.com/2013/02/lancaster-is-still-deadly-two-dead-hit.html" target="_blank"><b>here</b></a>.) You hardly ever will see salmon riders behave the same way on downtown streets or on roads. For various reasons, cyclists flow with traffic far more consistently on these thoroughfares. Stroads are unique in this regard.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There seems to be something about a stroad that deceives the rider’s brain: “trust me, it’s better to ride in the opposite direction of everybody else.” What is beyond comprehension is how a cyclist could ever come to the conclusion: “yes, riding against traffic IS my best choice here! Thank you, stroad!”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hmmm. Maybe part of the problem is stroads...consider Lancaster Drive, hands down Salem’s stroadiest stroad. Well-stocked with salmon riders, day and night. Come to think of it, Lancaster just recently went through a major reconstruction at Market Street, increasing the number of turn lanes and putting this stroad on steroids. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You know, that’s when more salmon riders appeared. Maybe twice as many. Along a two-mile stretch of Lancaster I’ve counted as many as six wrong-way cyclists at once. I shudder to think of how many near-misses just those six riders had with cars, and then how many more there probably are every day. And dang it, these are totally avoidable!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The answer...more enforcement? Education? Yes and yes, but resources as they are, it’s unlikely that either would become a priority unless there’s some public pressure. And, these are temporary fixes at best. What will really solve the salmon problem, in my opinion, is eliminating stroads. </span></div>
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Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-38760918768671058912013-04-28T17:36:00.001-07:002013-04-28T17:36:43.846-07:00Cookie Power<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">They tell you that the Monster Cookie Bicycle Ride is not a race. That’s true, unless you’re a cyclist who also happens to be a church musician. Let’s just say that the songs might have been “extra peppy” this morning so that I could just squeak in before the deadline to start riding.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It felt good to join the 2,000 other riders, especially when I finally caught up to them. We’re all a bit eager to welcome the spring, the sun, and the exquisite riding that the Willamette Valley offers. The wind coming up from the southwest made us feel like champions all the way to <a href="http://www.oregonstateparks.org/index.cfm?do=parkPage.dsp_parkPage&parkId=79" target="_blank">Champoeg</a>, and like rag dolls all the way back to the Capitol. Didn’t matter, it still was a perfect day for riding. Thanks to the <a href="http://www.salembicycleclub.org/index.plx" target="_blank">Salem Bicycle Club</a>, and the many volunteers, for making this ride happen.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And, did I mention the cookies at the end of the ride? Oatmeal Raisin for me!</span></div>
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Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-74935107500007720502013-01-01T20:27:00.002-08:002013-01-01T20:27:24.142-08:00Day One<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Day One of every new year we’re encouraged to create new goals for ourselves, become more organized, get skinny, and stuff like that. I probably should have been hitting the stores to buy totes and planners and Dr. Oz cookbooks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But today the Willamette Valley was awash in sunshine. Quite a contrast to the slushy stuff that pelted our faces yesterday and made visibility a problem. Sorry, Dr. Oz. You just got trumped by Mother Nature.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today you could see as far as the mountains allowed, in every direction. The cold dry air made it a spectacular day for riding out on some country roads out south of town.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Winter birds were quite entertaining, and I encountered several folks with high-powered cameras who had to have come away with some amazing shots.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think my goal for 2013 will be to remember that days like today are gifts, not to be missed.</span><br />
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Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-74334155036031521312012-12-29T14:32:00.000-08:002012-12-29T19:12:12.844-08:00Bringing the bike outdoors<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A morning ride in the chilly Oregon air. Long overdue! I’m reminded of so many things I’ve been missing by not riding outside lately. The schedule just hasn't allowed much opportunity to ride during the daylight.</span></div>
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A little climb, a little descent, how differently a real bike handles than the one I've been riding indoors.</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A waft of wood smoke lingers in the air from a nearby fireplace, followed by the welcome smell of breakfast being served up at local restaurants.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Only a handful of cars are out so far. For a little while, I can pretend that I really do own Twelfth Street, and I go careening down the middle of the car lane on Morningside Hill. The speed and the cold air make my eyes water.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Those chaotic, scary</span><span style="font-family: Verdana; letter-spacing: 0px;"> intersections we all know about are no problem when the cars aren’t out. I easily pass through one of them and turn toward downtown.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICz05aYZIJolUBYqeubiCzGA5moJjzpdOx__6NFlNQ-H-k5spc0Mw4dKNJ7MzIpUVPTQ5CkFcvw4chQcaYbcwk0eWR554_UKNYeIU1-Iy09z___Sll-iHD1Vo_AvuuJT887gXaTTwVgw/s1600/DSCN0284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICz05aYZIJolUBYqeubiCzGA5moJjzpdOx__6NFlNQ-H-k5spc0Mw4dKNJ7MzIpUVPTQ5CkFcvw4chQcaYbcwk0eWR554_UKNYeIU1-Iy09z___Sll-iHD1Vo_AvuuJT887gXaTTwVgw/s320/DSCN0284.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Walkers and joggers are already out along the Riverfront. Most of them say “good morning” to you, and they smile.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I stop down at the river’s edge. Fifty yards away, a great blue heron is perched in a tree. I wait for that magical moment when he stretches out his massive wings to fly over the water, but he wins our little waiting game. This time.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Riding indoors has been valuable. It’s good for conditionining, but it’s not riding, really. Braking, steering, leaning, interacting with the world...most of the best parts of riding simply don’t happen on an indoor bike.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Heading back for home, I’m already thinking about tomorrow’s ride.</span></div>
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Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-26367607515826951612012-11-21T13:45:00.001-08:002012-11-21T13:49:50.776-08:00Fall Into Winter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I took this picture at Detroit Lake, not far from the little town on the east side. I wish I could say that I was on a bike ride there, but that would be lying and bloggers never lie. I was just on a walk.<br />
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Oregon is so beautiful in late fall, when the weather and landscape seem to be in cahoots together, creating amazing combinations and textures. Even though it was a rainy, sloppy day when I took this picture, I felt like hopping onto the saddle and following a road into those hills and just enjoy the serenity.<br />
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I need to get out and ride more than I have been lately. Pedaling indoors is okay for a workout, but it's not the same as riding.<br />
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With the right kind of clothing, I've learned that riding in cold and wet conditions is really great. <br />
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Especially if there's soup afterwards.<br />
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<br />Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-3214757019150251502012-09-23T20:42:00.000-07:002012-09-23T20:42:47.578-07:00Leaving The List At Home<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6QwA3nZNG6DME7QbGuE-hNxgiPujvU_GMTUGufi_oakoneT2-F2zovrFY8dwye-52lbRNQxDmM9dLg4-qSEqKtoYW3ZmZk3JplF8Y3i6MDPyXCm3zAGl3xXtNkQ9vMTZl4MFx2eG_4u8/s1600/P9230110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6QwA3nZNG6DME7QbGuE-hNxgiPujvU_GMTUGufi_oakoneT2-F2zovrFY8dwye-52lbRNQxDmM9dLg4-qSEqKtoYW3ZmZk3JplF8Y3i6MDPyXCm3zAGl3xXtNkQ9vMTZl4MFx2eG_4u8/s640/P9230110.JPG" width="480" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">There is something about fall that is restorative. Nature brings a new rhythm and inspiration to us as we notice the changes of this season.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’d thought about staying inside this afternoon to take care of part of the “to-do list” around the house. That would have been nice, I suppose. I’m glad that I forced myself out of the house and onto the bike instead.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">For two hours I pedaled through the long shadows of the late afternoon, on a freshly paved road that was smooth and quiet as I rolled. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I pedaled hard, but stopped a few times to notice things, like these a</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;">pples.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I could have taken a few things off the list at home and used up what energy I had left today. Even though the bike ride was strenuous, it gave more energy than it took. </span></div>
Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-69730545229542931452012-09-18T05:40:00.000-07:002012-09-18T05:41:04.991-07:00Turning<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We don't really need calendar to notice that the seasons are turning.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">What a great time of year to get outdoors and explore this valley.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Fall is such a dynamic season. Things are changing all the time!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Find a stretch of road and take a ride.</span></div>
Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-56989212480384651632012-07-08T13:33:00.001-07:002012-07-08T13:33:57.782-07:00Riding The Scenic Bikeways In Central Oregon<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">However long it may take you to get there, the Oregon Scenic Bikeways in <a href="http://rideoregonride.com/inspiration/scenic-bikeways/">Central Oregon</a> are definitely worth the trip. If you like cycling, and you like interacting with nature while you’re pedaling, you must find your way to Central Oregon on a day in late spring, summer, or early fall. You could ride two or three of these bikeways in their entirety in a weekend; the views along the way are nothing short of spectacular. The routes use roads that help to minimize your interaction with vehicle traffic, so it’s safer than the highways and main arterials. Most of them are fairly level and don't require big climbs. Farmland, forest, desert, and mountain views constantly make you want to stop riding and just gaze at the views. Aromatic cedar, pine, and sage add to the sensory experience that you can’t replicate inside a car. Several amenities along the way such as hotels and campgrounds, great restaurants and coffee shops, and bike shops galore will help you plan a trip in just your own way. Get thee to a Scenic Bikeway in Central Oregon. Pronto.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">I just got back from there myself. In future posts I'll share about the bikeways that I rode in greater detail. I hope I can describe them in ways that convince you to try them, too. For now, though, just a little tattle on myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">I’d planned a two-day ride that would cover three Scenic Bikeways: <a href="http://rideoregonride.com/inspiration/itineraries/metolius-loops-scenic-bikeway/">Metolius</a>, <a href="http://rideoregonride.com/inspiration/itineraries/twin-bridges-scenic-bikeway/">Twin Bridges</a>, and <a href="http://rideoregonride.com/inspiration/itineraries/sisters-to-smith-rock-scenic-bikeway/">Sisters To Smith Rock</a>. I brought camping gear, extra clothes, and the usual stuff you’d take along on a bike tour. I wanted to get a feel for fully-loaded touring. Unfortunately I learned that my tires had their limits, and I had pushed them too far. The pavement became hot and unforgiving in the summer sun. Out on Lower Bridge Road, miles away from town, I started getting flats. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">The blistering roads, the touring load, and jagged cinder rock proved to be too much for my tires, and they finally gave out. I ran out of spare tubes and patches, I was low on water and morale, and I wasn’t able to finish the final leg of my ride. Defeated, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">I turned around and pushed my bike and all my gear on a long, hot walk back into the nearest town. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Lesson learned...the hard way. It's okay, though. Sometimes it's just how you have to learn some of this stuff. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">It's funny, just minutes before that first flat tire, I remember how ridiculously blissful it felt to be riding out in the forest, in such a great spot. I was thinking to myself: “Enjoy this moment. this ride’s going to be over before you know it.” Minutes later...it was!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I will get back there. Not only is there I ride I need to finish, there are several others waiting to be experienced.</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-48888954869482268152012-06-24T22:31:00.001-07:002012-06-24T22:31:41.773-07:00Dodging Raindrops<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite the weekend's rain showers, we found ourselves leaving the car behind and heading away from Salem on our bicycles. This was our first go-round with this thing called "credit card touring." We had packed for an overnight stay, including some books, a fresh change of clothes for dinner, and creature comforts that you wouldn't ordinarily take on a bike tour. That's part of the trade-off with this type of touring. You're not bringing a tent and sleeping bags so you can bring other stuff along if you want. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Lions Gate Inn, Newberg</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We rode in a weather window up the valley. The rain never got us--but it was close. An angry-looking rain cloud chased us up from the south the whole way, finally overtaking us at <a href="http://www.oregonstateparks.org/park_113.php">Champoeg</a>. Haha...just in time, we reached an overhang at the park. A bench underneath gave us front-row seating for the very short shower. We snacked on energy bars and talked and let the weather do its thing. Mrs C, I could tell, was having fun on this ride. What a relief...I really wanted it to go well! The sun reappeared and dried off the pavement, and we continued on to our <a href="http://distinctivedestination.net/lions_gate_home.html">destination</a> in Newberg, dry and still smiling.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfU0HDz8Sp-LD-q-_GiRWT8Pc2jILCZlDN7-Q-_HskCGH8MLFFNn6CmJDU9M7Q-L8KXMap8JaGIQdnEbs2SsoiobOd-EhNnHtTzRw_p7Up5e3s3Pq5Dvp1e1pNe8s-o4AtH49qTTsF5k0/s1600/DSC_0508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfU0HDz8Sp-LD-q-_GiRWT8Pc2jILCZlDN7-Q-_HskCGH8MLFFNn6CmJDU9M7Q-L8KXMap8JaGIQdnEbs2SsoiobOd-EhNnHtTzRw_p7Up5e3s3Pq5Dvp1e1pNe8s-o4AtH49qTTsF5k0/s400/DSC_0508.JPG" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The <a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/WVSB_main.shtml">Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway</a> lets you enjoy miles of car-free riding, so you can ride side-by-side a lot of the time. These are the less traveled roads that connect farms and small towns. Cherry orchards are busy right now as workers fill 5-gallon buckets while perched on tall ladders. With the combination of sun and rain, the smell of mint nearly knocks you over when you ride past these fields with the dark green mint plants. Mrs C marveled at the agricultural diversity. Along with several nurseries and hazelnut orchards, we rode past fields with wheat, hops, onions, and corn. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_GhyNyuXx8WxwFbhT09tV6PsSBe8kE8jCN9_5Y6jRAYuQOTWiyagNhAI9aV_xaxyMGWiNvQOXDH9dHf3oG1ErJ7aV7HbPN1MhbClNfXcivj_a5jEcpLILgkPWEAHAENBrNfbqF_67nSI/s1600/DSC_0510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_GhyNyuXx8WxwFbhT09tV6PsSBe8kE8jCN9_5Y6jRAYuQOTWiyagNhAI9aV_xaxyMGWiNvQOXDH9dHf3oG1ErJ7aV7HbPN1MhbClNfXcivj_a5jEcpLILgkPWEAHAENBrNfbqF_67nSI/s400/DSC_0510.JPG" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I learned a hard lesson about trying to improvise the route we were taking. The valley has an interesting web of highways and roads criss-crossing the region. Some roads are more heavily used than others. I knew there were roads that were more direct than the Scenic Bikeway. Almost instantly after choosing a "shorter" path home, I regretted it. The shoulder was narrow and rough, and the Sunday traffic whizzing by us was way too close. We split off and took farm roads as soon as we could until we could rejoin the bikeway. Once there, it was back to enjoying some quiet, picturesque riding together. Lesson learned.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yep, we both agree, this kind of touring works for both of us.</span>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-58869632387843466662012-06-14T00:13:00.000-07:002012-06-14T00:13:44.527-07:00The Path And Pioneer Cemetery<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James and Laura Belle Carlisle<br />
Bradshaw, Nebraska 1890's</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This whole thing about the Pioneer Cemetery has obviously struck a cord for me. I’ve been learning more about my grandparents lately and even made a new connection. Thanks to the wonders of Google, I met a second cousin of mine back in Nebraska where my grandparents were from. We immediately started swapping information. He sent me old family pictures, including this one of our great grandparents. He and I are both educators. Our spouses have the same name. We have a part in each others’ story, and that is <i>powerful</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">While I was searching for the exact location of my grandparents’ graves at Pioneer Cemetery, I was greeted by a very jovial dog, off leash. He ran right up to me. As a cyclist I’ve learned to read dogs quickly. This one liked me and just needed a pat on the head before he bounded off again, across the grave sites. I like dogs, but I wondered if this was commonplace, bringing dogs to the cemetery and letting them run free like that.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I got my answer when I visited my other grandparent’s cemetery the same day. There was another dog, off leash. Hmmm. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Maybe I’m missing something, but it seems odd that we’re not talking about <i>that</i> in the conversation about the safety of this historic site. As wonderful as it is to have a place to bring a dog, I’m not super excited that they’re given free run of the place. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyhow, our friend at Breakfast on Bikes set me straight on a few facts that I didn’t wholly understand about this <a href="http://breakfastonbikes.blogspot.com/search/label/Pioneer%20Cemetery%20and%20Alley" target="_blank">topic</a>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The City Council will decide on June 25th whether they will "vacate" the alley in question. I hope that's not the outcome.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And I hope there can be a well-reasoned, respectful conversation about the imperative to move bikes and pedestrians through this area in a safe manner. Away from Commercial Street.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I believe a bicycle/pedestrian path would have far less impact on the cemetery than is being suggested by some. Yes, we need to care for our historic places and monuments. They remind us to care about our own stories, and how we all connect in one way or another. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We also must consider the safety and well-being of the walkers and riders, the ones who are living the story that is unfolding.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-22877919724082836572012-06-07T22:03:00.000-07:002012-06-08T06:17:27.571-07:00The Path And Pioneer Cemetery<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><u>Part 2: Being There</u></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I remember going with my parents to Pioneer Cemetery on Memorial Day when I was a kid. Dad would bring some yard tools and work gloves along in the car; Mom would bring flowers from our yard at home. We’d spend some time raking and pulling weeds, and sprucing up the area where my grandparents are buried. Then the flowers would go next to the headstones. I’d look around and see other people doing similar things at some of the other graves, too.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoF-aeJHXr1zinK0Au2_eYaKjDtTfcaUIcTDIGnhxwc1GP6E1tRdAvPpXMt07jKllteTIhTlHLnIcTHfHtdUH0HkTYnz5Ir36ynFyIYNv7ik1NExSmIpRgE31_4GmyJ-hoTEN5vpKQl8/s1600/DSC_0475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoF-aeJHXr1zinK0Au2_eYaKjDtTfcaUIcTDIGnhxwc1GP6E1tRdAvPpXMt07jKllteTIhTlHLnIcTHfHtdUH0HkTYnz5Ir36ynFyIYNv7ik1NExSmIpRgE31_4GmyJ-hoTEN5vpKQl8/s640/DSC_0475.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoF-aeJHXr1zinK0Au2_eYaKjDtTfcaUIcTDIGnhxwc1GP6E1tRdAvPpXMt07jKllteTIhTlHLnIcTHfHtdUH0HkTYnz5Ir36ynFyIYNv7ik1NExSmIpRgE31_4GmyJ-hoTEN5vpKQl8/s1600/DSC_0475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I wondered what my grandparents were like. I still do. That’s normal if you never knew somebody, but you still had some kind of connection to them. I know that life was not easy for them. I know they met and started their family in Nebraska, and during the Depression they moved here, in search of better opportunities for themselves and their five kids. They arrived in Salem, where they remained until their deaths. My dad was ten when his father died, and barely twenty when he lost his mom. I suspect that life was much, much harder than Dad has ever let on.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJa3vXFQaV1yfo-xgCfIoxJfD5NR3UHZbLBawfP1r1SJTtrbVSzC75H_fQO0nAqXL6UEB-H6Qbvn9Dx7Ig5f_Qf2RxCgE1etKdQkNoq02ukgaFotlFXX5mP3B8HcH9j3iFVodT_xljVcg/s1600/DSC_0464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This past Sunday I decided to ride to Downtown Salem, then south through Fairview neighborhood, to Pioneer Cemetery to visit my grandparents’ grave sites. It’s been years since I’ve done that. Along the way I also considered the route you take to get there when you’re on a bike.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ugh...what cyclists have to do to traverse this part of town. Yes, a path would make so much more sense, and would be much, much safer than riding on Commercial.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I pulled into Pioneer Cemetery, and after a lengthy search I finally found the grave sites again. Yes, it’s been that long. I was sitting there and staring at their head stones, but mostly I was thinking about those memories of my dad, sprucing up his parents' graves. What a mental picture for “Honor thy father and mother...”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I left as I arrived, on my bike. I understand a little more about what this cemetery means to people who have a connection and come here to visit. I also see how a path would help people who are riding or walking through the area. I wonder about all the potential--the good and the bad--and why people might have strong opinions on one side or the other. Being there helps me to better understand why this conversation has been such a challenge. Yep, it’s complicated.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">One thing’s clear, though: I really hope the City doesn’t shut down this important conversation. That’s a decision they’ll make at their next meeting. </span></span></div>
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</div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-89432853488699804012012-06-03T17:14:00.000-07:002012-06-03T17:14:06.243-07:00The Path and Pioneer Cemetery<br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;"><i><u>Part 1: When Heads And Hearts Don’t Agree</u></i></span><br /><br />Occasionally issues arise that expose competing values in a community. Things usually start off with an idea that sounds innocent enough, but it ends up being a problem for somebody else, and <i>poof</i>, it's suddenly very complicated. Let’s please not suggest that “fixes” are easy, because that just ends up insulting everyone who has an opinion. Some things can't be simplified.<br /><br />One such issue in Salem has recently gotten my full attention because it’s personal for me on BOTH sides of the issue. It has captured my head and my heart, and it's anything but simple. I’d better explain.<br /><br />This past Memorial Day Weekend, the Statesman-Journal <a href="http://www.statesmanjournal.com/article/20120526/NEWS/305260011/Proposed-path-past-historic-burial-area-Salem-raises-questions" target="_blank">ran an article</a> about a proposed bike path that would be adjacent to our historic Pioneer Cemetery in South Salem. One might wonder why there isn’t a path there already: We’re talking about putting in a very short ribbon of asphalt to connect two neighborhoods that are currently “walled off” by the Pioneer Cemetery (and City View Cemetery right next door). </div>
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Shouldn’t really be a big deal, right? I mean, the path would offer some
much needed relief for north-south riders who must currently use
Commercial Street. Picture a fast-moving, narrow arterial that moves
buses, trucks, and gazillions of cars between downtown and the burbs and
you get the picture: “calm” is definitely not the word you’d use to
describe this thoroughfare. I would not ever recommend Commercial to
novice riders. A safer option is long overdue.</div>
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But like I said, it’s complicated. There’s at least one other side to
this issue: While there may be a logical place to put the path, the
people who are committed to the safety and well-being of the cemetery
are worried. Unfortunately, we do have to consider the vulnerability of
things like monuments and gravestones these days. The <a href="http://www.salempioneercemetery.org/fop.php" target="_blank">“Friends of Pioneer Cemetery” </a>have expressed concern over the proposed location, and
the City appears to be considering “vacating” the pathway. As I understand it, that would
effectively end the proposal. No pathway.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMMKtnp5mkFxPhr6_asMb-uqJjEj4cWiUhZHTxpQYFw4RfplDT74JzztcLzveWOy_Te9f3797gbw4AtFF1lSyx5SJuLnQ6nzzBRvQaZ76ahu6Wqs5TqHPkx7O18lioNNvqXBkwJErxwPU/s1600/DSC_0461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMMKtnp5mkFxPhr6_asMb-uqJjEj4cWiUhZHTxpQYFw4RfplDT74JzztcLzveWOy_Te9f3797gbw4AtFF1lSyx5SJuLnQ6nzzBRvQaZ76ahu6Wqs5TqHPkx7O18lioNNvqXBkwJErxwPU/s320/DSC_0461.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTVlATL8b2wxXaoVZBD3lxbtwZ8PLNW3IL0_3ZCUvSyPrnoBlLwE-lgyGB9O_xFgWVQuiL1r8H1apj9kZv8HCbFXSfbEcvUOnB-Jd4Urb-3TCjkNnjOETnhfBj56uUcVMmek-XH_4HcU/s1600/DSC_0462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTVlATL8b2wxXaoVZBD3lxbtwZ8PLNW3IL0_3ZCUvSyPrnoBlLwE-lgyGB9O_xFgWVQuiL1r8H1apj9kZv8HCbFXSfbEcvUOnB-Jd4Urb-3TCjkNnjOETnhfBj56uUcVMmek-XH_4HcU/s320/DSC_0462.JPG" width="320" /></a>It’s important that we strive to see all sides of a complicated issue. We must
seek first to understand, then be understood. We are better as a society when we honor each others' perspectives, even when they differ from our own.</div>
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As a cyclist I want to advocate for a safer path through this
part of my community. I worry that without it, cyclists are at risk. </div>
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But I also have a personal connection to the Pioneer Cemetery that’s
pretty important to me as well: </div>
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My grandparents.</div>
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<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-20143242242997072102012-05-27T21:32:00.003-07:002012-05-27T21:57:22.664-07:00For The Long Haul<br />
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">There are some clear limits to what you can do with those super-light, nimble road bikes that weigh less than a gnat’s eyelash. They’re really intended to do one thing best: go fast. The thing is, they require you to consider ounces, not pounds, as far as what you carry along on the ride. As long as it’s just you and the bike, you’ll slice through wind, and power up hills, faster than on any other kind of bicycle. Crazy fast! But start carrying any extra stuff, and you’ll instantly feel the bike’s performance diminish. Touring is out of the question for these kinds of bikes. They’re roadsters, not haulers.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscoCJZ04WfQsz9XZgU99yk7YNdJkxDpTcVlgBL6uFm1K9tITrsba4rMRd0XJ8C9VWr9dQYsKwEvB0WsHUi6LnjgnXTt7WlfhGXzDOB_F_WMN3VrBNFfhIs2ZCYtj51vYOPVFPjEcC3wU/s1600/DSC_0313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscoCJZ04WfQsz9XZgU99yk7YNdJkxDpTcVlgBL6uFm1K9tITrsba4rMRd0XJ8C9VWr9dQYsKwEvB0WsHUi6LnjgnXTt7WlfhGXzDOB_F_WMN3VrBNFfhIs2ZCYtj51vYOPVFPjEcC3wU/s400/DSC_0313.jpg" width="266" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My Groovy Trek 520 Touring Bike</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After learning more about touring bikes, I looked for something affordable that had solid reviews from other riders. The search was over when I eventually found a barely-used Trek 520 that fits me perfectly. It’s certainly not a roadster. It rides more like a truck than a sports car. Beefier tubing, heavier rims with more spokes, more “junk in the trunk”...this baby is designed to carry. Slower, sturdier than its carbon cousin. The touring frame is slightly elongated for long-range riding comfort and heel clearance with the bags. Lots of riders, including <a href="http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/directory/?o=1&user=JoelCarlisle&v=G" target="_blank">this guy </a> (</span>no relation), are on 520’s riding big, big tours right now and seem to be happy. So far I am, too. Eventually I'll do some big, big tours on this bike.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Immediately I’ve installed clipless pedals and fenders. Next, a stronger rear rack and a front rack. I’m learning that with touring bikes, you still care about the weight you’re adding to the bike, but your bigger goal is reliability. A little extra weight is okay if it serves that purpose. The plowhorse gets the job done. Most touring cyclists average 12-13 mph fully loaded, so it’s not like you’re competing in a peloton. However, it’s also true that on a sturdy, fully loaded touring bike, the extra weight on a good long downhill will make you a bullet. Uphills, well, there’s an extra small chain ring for that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Going fast and light is really fun. Going far and carrying gear will be fun, too. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Loads.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-90622710197197042782012-05-26T14:08:00.001-07:002012-05-26T17:05:03.838-07:00Touring for Two<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Those of us who just can’t seem to resist the ecstasy and agony of long bike rides must eventually succumb to the allure of bicycle touring. It’s just another variant of cycling insanity, really. Basically, you stick as many bags on your bicycle as you want, fill ‘em with all the camping stuff you’d probably take on a long backpacking trip, roll out of your driveway and ride headlong into whatever--wind, rain, extreme temperatures, and hope for interesting encounters in strange places off the beaten path. Sounds fun, eh?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Some books I've recently read chronicle the experiences of cyclists who have taken some pretty audacious cycling tours across the country, or more exotic places around the world. The way they write about their experiences, it makes the reader want to throw some bags onto the bike, start riding, and not look back. I must admit, I have been bitten pretty hard by this touring bug. So much so, that I sold the mountain bike that I'd been neglecting, bought a touring bike, and started planning some tours. Small ones at first, then bigger ones, and then yes, one day I’d like to do a big ride across America.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bike Touring together in 1984...</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Immediately I have to confront a thorny problem: I’m the only one in my household who is afflicted by this need to go to faraway places on a bike. Mrs. C enjoys cycling too, but she’s far more balanced and sane about it than I am. 20-30 miles would be just great. And as far as camping goes, she did a lot of that as a kid. She would prefer staying in a place where there’s a nice bed, a shower, no critters at night, and some basic amenities that make a vacation more relaxing and fun. We actually did a little bit of bike touring and camping when we were newlyweds and enjoyed it, but decades have passed since then; riding all day and then pitching a tent, and repeating the whole thing again the next day, is not so appealing now. Our kids are just in different places in their lives and would not drop everything to go on a cycling/camping tour either. Maybe later. Alas, I’m the only person in the family who has this obsession, and I’m surrounded by people who don’t.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4t6eSKFMTFYFe6fl04QEvdPx-89nwKwAJSqbk2evDEyhUMgfmLVZAPUnS8U0tJz0WUFboigHYCvv9zhSyMJodTzc-Yzy9SFG5hMfvxLf4TOH7u6AbSsLVepA9So3YQGWKHTq6ljyJes/s1600/IMG_0304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4t6eSKFMTFYFe6fl04QEvdPx-89nwKwAJSqbk2evDEyhUMgfmLVZAPUnS8U0tJz0WUFboigHYCvv9zhSyMJodTzc-Yzy9SFG5hMfvxLf4TOH7u6AbSsLVepA9So3YQGWKHTq6ljyJes/s320/IMG_0304.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">...and riding on Portland's bridges in 2011</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">I may have to do some bike/camping tours on my own. When I do, they’ll take up a good chunk of the free time that’s available in our schedule. I enjoy the person I’m married to and I want to keep spending time with her, so imagine my excitement when I found a little ray of hope. The guy at the bike shop told me about “credit-card touring." Forget packing the camping gear and provisions on your bike. Leave all that stuff at home and let the plastic do the work. Ride with your hunny, go right past the campgrounds and instead, stay at a more comfortable place. Bring along a fresh change of clothes, treat yourself to a nice meal and that becomes an attractive destination for the journey.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I shared this with Mrs C I was thinking this might come across sort of a compromise. I was a bit surprised that she got so excited about the idea too, so we both sincerely want to do this together. Wasting no time, I made arrangements for an overnight stay at one of the many amazing Bed and Breakfast inns in Oregon wine country. In June we’ll ride 40+ miles of the Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway, arrive at a place with good food and accommodations, and show ‘em our card. After a good night's sleep and a gourmet breakfast in the morning, we'll ride back home. If all goes well, maybe we'd consider doing a bigger tour together, even with camping gear. Or, not. Comfy beds would be just fine, too.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Small steps toward a big dream.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Priceless.</span></span></div>
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</div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-10697017630316485062012-05-14T05:31:00.000-07:002012-06-03T22:05:00.704-07:00Rolling On The Columbia River Historic Highway<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5P6VaV2l8LNqED5Rq13wwqsjjzQXaOpaax-Vrhv15WkRSc56I-Ycy60B4Y83Pk0nNW24vgTD3piEV1b7dcjUw4pk9S-cMlm2cUNm0Yic2tYF2JoWfgcy5U2Wgr9pXNKIUYJ8WpanjCfc/s1600/DSC_0388.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5P6VaV2l8LNqED5Rq13wwqsjjzQXaOpaax-Vrhv15WkRSc56I-Ycy60B4Y83Pk0nNW24vgTD3piEV1b7dcjUw4pk9S-cMlm2cUNm0Yic2tYF2JoWfgcy5U2Wgr9pXNKIUYJ8WpanjCfc/s320/DSC_0388.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Saturday’s
ride reaffirmed why I love experiencing Oregon from the handlebars. One
of the state’s great treasures is the Historic Columbia River Highway.
Long stretches of car-free riding, interspersed with low-volume traffic
on portions that are shared with cars, make this route a favorite for
folks who want to interact with some of Oregon’s most amazing and
diverse scenery.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWcTDV4PunXpDxmUKVtIqrKfJjjb4u614DRliaq7uWEKhnAwXY0JzWbuBms9wVoHxhXRiu0_ncKZMXewe5Ow96z_3XMNsnDs1EeYnPCBwxjfrLHBzp6IhXSQWeOkvjtPKn8dthWoh_hI/s1600/DSC_0402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWcTDV4PunXpDxmUKVtIqrKfJjjb4u614DRliaq7uWEKhnAwXY0JzWbuBms9wVoHxhXRiu0_ncKZMXewe5Ow96z_3XMNsnDs1EeYnPCBwxjfrLHBzp6IhXSQWeOkvjtPKn8dthWoh_hI/s320/DSC_0402.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kUwvlCk0bQ34ggAAoKquuLtFsyiZjWjnt63VIgYBRhV-BQhsCbMKT6AlyFb2jFwaHw5dDPQstrW5ud9nYGrGy85FepkT8npesVgXD5X_ew-9c4GeOdLrBfOQx1Fr7I1wPUr8oGafVR4/s1600/DSC_0369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kUwvlCk0bQ34ggAAoKquuLtFsyiZjWjnt63VIgYBRhV-BQhsCbMKT6AlyFb2jFwaHw5dDPQstrW5ud9nYGrGy85FepkT8npesVgXD5X_ew-9c4GeOdLrBfOQx1Fr7I1wPUr8oGafVR4/s320/DSC_0369.JPG" width="320" /></a><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It’s been months since I’d last seen my friend Pablo, so there was lots of catching up to do; this was just the place to do it. Since we didn’t need to worry much about cars, we could ride two abreast and have some conversation along the way. We rode the part that connects Hood River to Mosier, then up to Rowena Crest. In that short span, there’s a noticeable change in the topography, from Western to Central Oregon. There are tunnels from the old highway that have been preserved, and amazing views of the Columbia River for miles in both directions.</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Our agenda was simple: ride to Rowena, take pictures of the wildflowers that are now in bloom, and catch each other up on life and stuff. On the way back, we had some 40 mph descents, ice cream in Mosier, and cameras loaded with pictures of the wildflowers.</span>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-24179305481130255722012-04-08T13:37:00.001-07:002012-04-08T13:37:45.289-07:00Oregon's Scenic Bikeways<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxU6_TN65bEKwJBJNNH6z0sZ-B_4gDVJSuLQ3zOHROSvbPRhIcs0ameLtE07FBDsmxDEwKLtvXQ-a6Lq9DomyP8lByEtaU3OaJtvkWxuU0XRsk0lJbNN1KaNt_zMe9GNYesg7MbJcWJg/s640/DSC_0301.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twin Bridges Loop Scenic Bikeway in Central Oregon</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxU6_TN65bEKwJBJNNH6z0sZ-B_4gDVJSuLQ3zOHROSvbPRhIcs0ameLtE07FBDsmxDEwKLtvXQ-a6Lq9DomyP8lByEtaU3OaJtvkWxuU0XRsk0lJbNN1KaNt_zMe9GNYesg7MbJcWJg/s1600/DSC_0301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The <a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/" target="_blank">Oregon Scenic Bikeway System</a> is expanding! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Several new Bikeways have been introduced around Oregon just in recent months. They have the potential to attract thousands of two-wheeled enthusiasts each year. In a nutshell, these bikeways are to be the “best of the best;” loaded with panoramic views, as well as Oregon history and culture. Miles and miles of blissful riding on paved roads that have far less car traffic than nearby highways.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">The upsides are obvious: increased tourism, bringing dollars into the local economies without choking on vehicle traffic and emissions. Once cyclists arrive to the area, they leave the cars behind and hop onto their bikes. They are in constant search of destination rides that reward their physical effort with amazing scenery and memories. After the ride, they want to enjoy some of the local fare and hospitality before heading back home. Folks around the state are hoping to attract cyclists to come see their neck of the woods. But not every route that gets proposed makes the cut; the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_189756746">process </a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/docs/Bikeway_Handbook_Feb2012.pdf" target="_blank">of getting a bikeway approved</a> appears to be pretty involved. The panel that makes the ultimate decision uses a lot of factors to evaluate the total riding experience. I like that. Again, these bikeways are supposed to be “the best of the best.”</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">But do these routes really live up to the hype? Are they that much better than rides that didn't get this special designation? I'm curious about that. Right now, in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">April 2012, we have nine official Oregon Scenic Bikeways, most recently the <a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/GTSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Grande Tour</a>.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I really want to experience each of them for myself.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>In the Willamette Valley:</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/WVSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway</a> (Moderate/132 miles)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Central Oregon:</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/MPSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">McKenzie Pass Scenic Bikeway</a> (Extreme/38 miles)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/MRLSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Metolius River Loops Scenic Bikeway</a> (Mild/up to 20 miles) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/SSRSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Sisters To Smith Rock Scenic Bikeway</a> (Moderate/35 miles one way)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/TBSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Twin Bridges Loop Scenic Bikeway</a> (Moderate/36 miles)</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>South of the Valley:</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/CBSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Covered Bridges Scenic Bikeway</a> (Mild/34 miles) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Eastern Oregon:</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/GTSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Grande Tour Scenic Bikeway</a> (Challenging/134 miles) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/OWSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Old West Scenic Bikeway</a> (Challenging/176 miles)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.oregon.gov/OPRD/PARKS/BIKE/BMCSB_main.shtml" target="_blank">Blue Mountain Century Scenic Bikeway</a> (Extreme/108 miles)</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-87233317019949982772012-03-27T09:52:00.000-07:002012-03-27T09:52:44.259-07:00A Quiet Spot In Central Oregon<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOP5Ygc8_ygjoGIbSyUDVqpFhyDPaWObDyUZXn0lRaS3gos04JvHMwM7d6YkAJnlcxdxHxhQ06nfsht81OQ3N4A2QYlV6Lhbe4nXQP8-R6KleP0UjiLeSMzlOzrpY77d37PN3RnkN7kM/s1600/DSC_0314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOP5Ygc8_ygjoGIbSyUDVqpFhyDPaWObDyUZXn0lRaS3gos04JvHMwM7d6YkAJnlcxdxHxhQ06nfsht81OQ3N4A2QYlV6Lhbe4nXQP8-R6KleP0UjiLeSMzlOzrpY77d37PN3RnkN7kM/s640/DSC_0314.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uOCaHkyVZNAvcF32zVmUtRXZ0M3q5c021xe34p1J2wKNx30L18Yjc5-oRn0MShbPpzHIxrwzROfJaep02Xug4lINHDhIEGvCqu-cr74Pgo-9cuunsTDloZtsriiYs0DEXINvjSajVQo/s1600/DSC_0308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uOCaHkyVZNAvcF32zVmUtRXZ0M3q5c021xe34p1J2wKNx30L18Yjc5-oRn0MShbPpzHIxrwzROfJaep02Xug4lINHDhIEGvCqu-cr74Pgo-9cuunsTDloZtsriiYs0DEXINvjSajVQo/s400/DSC_0308.jpg" width="266" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I brought my bike over to Central Oregon during a family vacation, with the intention of doing some riding on this side of the mountains. The ongoing rain in the valley has felt like a water torture lately, and it's nice to be in a place with dry pavement and a bit more sunshine. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I had the chance to take a short ride from where I’m staying to Cline Falls State Park. It sits on Highway 126 just a few miles west of Redmond. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Although the air had a chill, the light and the warmth of the sun felt amazing. I saw adults and children taking turns casting flies out onto the eddies of the Deschutes, sure to be populated with trout. Other folks were out with their cameras, grabbing a few shots of the local waterfowl who seemed to be enjoying the attention. The river is swift and high right now, flowing around and through some of the trees and brush along the banks.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I had read that 35 years ago this quiet little spot was the scene of a horrific assault against a couple of cyclists on a cross-country tour who were camping overnight. The crime was never solved. The cyclists survived but still carry physical and emotional scars from the incident. Being there made me wonder how long it takes for people, places, communities to heal from things like that. I doubt that these cyclists will ever read this post, but as an Oregonian and fellow cyclist, I just want to express my sorrow that this happened to them. I pray for their peace.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I also recall reading that this had been on the list of possible closures due to budget cuts. I wondered if the park gate would be open when I got there. It was, and I was cheerfully greeted by a groundskeeper who was hard at work. I took another look around and saw how clean the whole park was. I found a spot to sit. It was beautiful, and it was peaceful. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I sat for a while and watched the families who were enjoying their casting, and the ducks and geese who were posing for photographs.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Then I climbed back up the hill the led back to the park gate, with the sense that it's good that this place is open...and healing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-13562083543796397912012-03-21T05:27:00.000-07:002012-03-21T05:27:10.427-07:00Lessons You Learn On Your Bicycle: Balance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7PFq-UdEOPIpJdcsY_RowQS19klxvw_gRLId3K-CXQ0oqxzgNttOva6C6U9sj0IJSrq0o46RCIjt8hVhKWrnBsvII7P2iTSkF-ehqbdyCzZIxzN2fq03Kinx_2EDvzyO3F9f6_-QV9s/s1600/IMG_2415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7PFq-UdEOPIpJdcsY_RowQS19klxvw_gRLId3K-CXQ0oqxzgNttOva6C6U9sj0IJSrq0o46RCIjt8hVhKWrnBsvII7P2iTSkF-ehqbdyCzZIxzN2fq03Kinx_2EDvzyO3F9f6_-QV9s/s320/IMG_2415.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Okay, so it’s been a while since the last post. That’s because I’ve been learning, all over again it seems, how to keep my balance. One of the many lessons about life that you can think about while you’re riding a bike.</span><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Remember your first attempts at riding a bike, how you’d fall over to one side or the other...but then with equal parts of determination and equilibrium, you were riding. You could go far, you could go fast...you could just plain go. And once you figured that out, the lesson has stuck with you ever since. “It’s just like riding a bike,” right?</span><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In life, I think balance is one of the most difficult things to achieve, and to maintain. It’s also one of the most necessary things. For me that’s true, anyway. The challenge seems to be in adapting to the shifting load. Each new chapter in our lives brings along something new, or takes away something familiar, and we keep learning how to stabilize the load so that we can stay balanced. Even just recently I’ve seen quite a bit of change: our kids keep growing up on us, and Mrs. C and I are continuously trying to figure out what we can do to support them. Work has definitely shifted as the organization has gotten leaner. I’m helping out with planning and leading a new service at my church, which in turn has given me some unexplainable creativity composing new songs. I’ve put lots of energy into those things while I’ve been away from the blog. Life, as I know it anyway, is constantly shifting the load.</span><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I met a kid last year who rides with the Flowrider team at the Boys and Girls Club here in Salem. He was born with some physical challenges on one side of his body; his arm and leg are noticeably weaker and smaller on one side than on the other side. Throughout his life he’d been told about all of the things he would not be able to do because of it. He finally decided to stop listening, I guess. At the Boys and Girls Club, he wanted so badly to join the cycling team there that he literally willed himself get onto a bike and just figure it out, despite all of the odds against it ever happening. Weeks, months of trying, crashing and trying again, this kid would not stop. Guess who’s cycling and inspiring everybody with his story now.</span><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I’m glad I got to meet this young man and learn a valuable lesson. As I think about how life hands us new and challenging things, and we have to constantly adapt to find our equilibrium, he comes to mind often. His story gives me confidence that with the big and small things that shift the load, I can figure it out and keep moving forward.</span>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-37870722034795885182011-11-07T21:15:00.000-08:002011-11-07T21:15:42.936-08:00Bird Trouble<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The exercise and clear air</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> put us all in a good mood. A perfect way to end the long day. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">And this, dear friends, is where I spun myself off into Audubon Purgatory, the place from which I can never fully return.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I pulled out my iPhone, and played the Wren’s sound on my wild bird app.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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...</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">...Dave. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">He sauntered back up the trail, still appearing cool and calm, almost zen-like. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“So, no harm done...” he said in that way that you know, some harm’s been done. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“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.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Good point.” He seemed to be stalling, but he recovered quickly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“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.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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....</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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 <a href="http://www.audubonguides.com/field-guides/mobile-apps.html">Audubon website </a>himself. I kind of doubt it. Did you know that they sell a variety of bird apps there? </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-29061354604909133472011-10-08T21:06:00.000-07:002011-10-08T21:07:25.408-07:00Riding The Harvest Century With A Friend<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcp_JbgMsCkdeBqePpBrJCrFCLyfaaSzP99aUa9mXv3_C_NupxBSgcl-5Fd9Qk5rbDF9VIm5IaOBemHpbhBMFJncs3eLFDXMjZfHygXBSuVwyyk_wXQBq0yPutvrdXpGLnB_0DJYlZ6o/s1600/IMG_0347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcp_JbgMsCkdeBqePpBrJCrFCLyfaaSzP99aUa9mXv3_C_NupxBSgcl-5Fd9Qk5rbDF9VIm5IaOBemHpbhBMFJncs3eLFDXMjZfHygXBSuVwyyk_wXQBq0yPutvrdXpGLnB_0DJYlZ6o/s320/IMG_0347.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXCRjguDlDaYFTudvtQJAXGt1DVJNBBLo8zLwbhM5mCfjXvKL2NVS-GA-TtIRneDf0YMUP7TDC5JaXYizOH6UalPOZKy0OXjmNFAT7EZ79415divczJYuMyBmVviKXqyru67BXCCRgm0/s1600/IMG_0358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXCRjguDlDaYFTudvtQJAXGt1DVJNBBLo8zLwbhM5mCfjXvKL2NVS-GA-TtIRneDf0YMUP7TDC5JaXYizOH6UalPOZKy0OXjmNFAT7EZ79415divczJYuMyBmVviKXqyru67BXCCRgm0/s320/IMG_0358.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I framed that moment, and savored the meaning of it. What she had just said was heavy, important, and special. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaeAkbSPhCkqYAJ3t7Az6azgcZW-zqQz8U8GGQYLYhhvcN4Gnvy59ypq4zzjfMXf5bRXUs0SAHgF2G7-dxD0sQlgEF3FbhzHP0k9tOazQUO-n7S1cf0KykZaibA2HgPBH8jzjb7FHbIJc/s1600/Bethany.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaeAkbSPhCkqYAJ3t7Az6azgcZW-zqQz8U8GGQYLYhhvcN4Gnvy59ypq4zzjfMXf5bRXUs0SAHgF2G7-dxD0sQlgEF3FbhzHP0k9tOazQUO-n7S1cf0KykZaibA2HgPBH8jzjb7FHbIJc/s320/Bethany.jpg" width="286" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The thing I am grateful to have learned today, in an entirely new way, is that you never stop parenting your kids.</span></div>
Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2035359932557677420.post-19728066399223376032011-09-24T18:04:00.000-07:002011-09-24T18:12:44.627-07:00Sometimes An Easy Pace Is Better<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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%.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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 <strike>need an excu</strike>--umm, <i>have a good reason</i> 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.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">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. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">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...</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99A3EBYA3FNpoIOkn79Wm_zs3v_Gn9zSzMbb6P_OQD-YwKkFrT43ZFCyP3SdMjPPsjACT7v6JdDd6jHsQC6tBRZypefwg_jYGyve7ocrFyVh14Dxl7bhxDoCvoeEh13lAx6dNKNCzPKE/s1600/IMG_3221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghKH6UKigEgctb6yh_tF1Strhomc6Mf8nsvKQDKEPLLZAoUKAi6HGM4M4skiiK7bvoX-aUnNNcSFkDKeDi9g856VBxcih2a5XJdpUW0bTQZY04oYgkdDaIPIhn70l5Onagni74DzVVKkA/s1600/IMG_3225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghKH6UKigEgctb6yh_tF1Strhomc6Mf8nsvKQDKEPLLZAoUKAi6HGM4M4skiiK7bvoX-aUnNNcSFkDKeDi9g856VBxcih2a5XJdpUW0bTQZY04oYgkdDaIPIhn70l5Onagni74DzVVKkA/s320/IMG_3225.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">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.</span></span></div>
Kelly Carlislehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07970364454875987180noreply@blogger.com1