All Rambled Out

After Nashville and the long, long drive through Tennessee, I stopped just before West Virginia for gas and what seemed (at the time) like a last meal. I was heading into Ridge Runner country and figured I'd eat a good meal, just in case I heard banjo music. So I had the proverbial cholesterol bullet; steak, baked potato with butter, dinner rolls (that's what they called them), gray beans and apple pie a'la mode. Entertainment was provided by a man shovelling lasagna into his mouth, trying to get his money's worth and see if he could stretch his XXXL sweatpants. The pile on his plate would have fed a small band of refugees for a day or two.

I was tired of the South; The radio played monotonous songs by whiny guys complaining that their dogs left them and the Ole Lady couldn't bring home nuthin but corn dogs. Other than that it was only bible-thumpers and Bush-lovers on the radio, or the inevitable talk show with some angry woman wondering why the government wouldn't pay to have the Nascar tattoo removed from her forehead. So I headed the car North and spent the night in the Summersville, WV Wal-Mart parking lot listening to Bubbas burning rubber and breaking bottles. Did you know that Wal-Mart has street sweepers clean their parking lots at 3:00 am?

Then there was the hilly, winding drive into Pennsylvania and a stop near Pittsburgh to see one of my classmates from UBI. I spent the better part of an hour after that, trying to get un-lost after listening to Guida guide me cross-country to an Interstate heading for New York. Of course, it started snowing-all the way through the Alleghennies and up to Watkins Glen where I again prevailed upon Wal-Mart to host me. Brought back memories of 1967 when an army buddy and I slept under a bridge there on our way to the races. Where do the faces go when you forget someone?

Tired of travelling, sleeping with shredded wheat, listening to street-sweepers in the wee hours, living on coffee and granola bars I headed for Westbrook on the morning of the 19th, and that's where I am now.

The pod is glazed with snow and ice. I did my first snowy bike ride when I went into Portland to have lunch with Andre. Shannon and Jordan stopped by to say, "Welcome back." and I went to the gym with Nick to start losing the 10 pounds I gained on the trip. Life is quickly returning to normal (?). Tomorrow is laundry day and I'm going to start planning next winter's itinerary-God! I hate the idea of being here all winter. Bones and Simone: I may have to fly down to Tucson in a month or so and you can show me the town. I didn't feel like going there without you to lead me astray.

I wish to express my gratitude to all the kind folk who put me up, put up with me, wined and dined me (that's where the ten pounds came from) and showed me the sights; Buzz & Alice, Matt, Claudia & Harish, Jean, Chuck, Joe, Steve & Mae, John & Yvonne, Phred & Donna.

Many thanks as well to all my support team who encouraged me, outfitted me with gear and supplies, called and TXTed, did errands for me, monitored my mail and paid my bills while I was rambling around; finishing the trip I started back in '66. You know who you are, but others might not: Rhonda, Nick & Sue, Shan & John, DylKris, Andre & Brooke and again Bruce & Sylvia.

O.T.R.F.N.

(off the road for now)

Gloxy

Sleeping with the Devil

I forget which day it was (the days zip by along with the miles) that I left John & Yvonne's in Mesa. I had to. He beat me three straight at pool and she figured out the perps in all the CSI & Cold Case programs we watched-John and I didn't. Anyway, I had a great time seeing Mesa and cycling around. Thanks to the Madduxes!

The next stop was a brief one at Phred's. Probably a good thing that I need to speed back to Maine, because Phred had a lot on his hands. The landlord dug up his electricity and phone lines and was taking his time repairing them. A pipe under the home he bought for his mother-in-law sprung a leak and Cousin Lester was leaving for Vassalboro the next day. He didn't need me to fuss over. Anyway we had a good time talking over the "old days" at A.P.D. and laughing about some of the new developments. Phred and Donna, Thanks for the B&B and I hope you get Bill straightened out!

Back to the Devil. After I left Mesa, i backtracked to the Apache Trail to photograph some of the scenery I saw cycling there a few days back; the day my batteries died. So, I decided to drive the whole trail which included 30 miles of gravel road. I haven't decided whether it was a mistake or not. The scenery was outstanding. As I said previously, probably the most beautiful I'd ever seen. Breathtaking! Not a place for an acrophobe such as I, but it was well worth the nerve-wracking drive. When I stopped for lunch near the Roosevelt Dam I found that the bumpy road had emptied the contents of my shredded wheat/bran cereal all over the kitchen. The shaking then caused the squares to be pulverized between the shelf and the walls and all the other items banging around due to the bumpy road. The end result was that I had wheat spears distributed fairly evenly through all my fleece, wool and flannel sheets. I shook, flailed and cursed, but was unable to remove all the spears. So for the last three nights, I have been sleeping with the devil or at least his cousin. Yesterday, I went over a long stretch of road which is under construction somewhere near Little Rock. That finished the job. Not only did it shake down the remainder of the shreds that had been caught between the shelves and the wall; it brought down the shelves. Now I have to prop the kitchen up on tall stuff and hope that I don't kick the prop out from under while I'm thrashing in my sleep. Let's see what tonight brings.

Tonight? I think I'll be somewhere near Roanoke , VA, heading for Pittsburgh. I have to take care of some business there, and then head for home. The night after I left Phreds, I spent in Show Low, AZ. It was up in the mountains, rather cool, but beautiful. Then it was on to Roswell, NM where I checked out some property that Cousin Lope owns. I stayed at the Bottomless Lakes State Park where I experienced my first freezing weather. Good thing I decided to skip Albuquerque and Santa Fe as they are further north and higher in altitude.
Then I overnighted in a rest area west of Little Rock lulled to sleep by the rumbling of numerous diesel trucks. Thank God for ear plugs.

I must close as check-out here is 1100 and I have forty minutes to throw things at the car and pod and get gone. Next commo will be from wherever and whenever. Till then, O.T.R.A.

P.S. to Dyl: Speaking of O.T.R.A. , Willie survived his first (and last-I hope) bath in Mesa. He wound up sounding like Donald Duck, but after a good drying, is back to nasal-normal.

Freezing near Nashville

I'm here, don't want to be. I'm alive, glad to be. I'm cold-I hate it. Bones/Simone: fix up t he spare room-I hope to fly down for a while if the $$$ aren't a problem later thiks winter. Fingers stiff, typing outdoors at a KOA Kampround near I-40. Earplugs again tonight. I ate at a place in Oklahoma last night,, that made me think of you. Their bicquit gravy was horrendous and i longed for yours. IOt was Piggy's Pig-Out Palace or something like that. Near a Shell station off I-40 and the only lighted/warm place around.
No reason to be anywhere other than AZ in the winter.
More tomorrow when I thaw and can type indpoors.
I just heard an Alaskan Kiki bird: Keekeekeerrrrissssst, it's cold!

Mesa, Day 2

A big cycling day for me. John & I set out for the horizon and wound up doing 31+ miles, up into the foothills and then back. What was big is that I found wrenches #4 & #5, and wirecutters #1. I also passed the next milestone for a total of 4,011 miles.

I don't know how much more cycling I'll be able to do, rushing back as it appears. I had no idea that Tgiving is on the 22nd-I thought it was closer to the end of the month. I guess that's what happens when you don't look at a calendar for weeks. Nick, I guess I won't be back early in the week-it will probably be more like Wednesday. I plan to be at Andre & Brooke's for turkey.

Anyway, I'll be heading from here to Phred's and from there to Albuquerque and/or Santa Fe. Blogging may be sporadic as they will probably happen only from Starbux again. Will take my time in New Mexico, looking around, and then probably zip from there. Time will tell.

Mesa, AZ

In Mesa, finally. I drove through Phoenix and to Apache Junction yesterday. From thirty miles out, I could see a brownish pall hanging over the city. SMOG I was told by two people with whom I spoke. John says it's dirt/dust blown up by the wind. In any case, I don't think I'm going to breathe it for an extended peeriod.

Yuma was interesting, weather and skies were crystal clear. Overnight there was in a RV "park" which was actually a semi-permanent seasonal refuge for retirees. I got parked next to the dumpster for $30.00. Long desert drive to the "Valley" and visits with John and Phred.

Spent the night at the Lost Dutchman State Park, a beautiful spot right underneath Superstition Mountain. Cycled in the Tonto National Forest, along the Apache Trail and did some hill climbing. One stretch of two miles required two rest stops-I guess I lost my high-altitude lungs in California. Climbing was tiugh, but I got a couple of outstanding downhill runs where I put my "skills" to the test. Used up a lot of adrenaline. I have to drive the course when I head for New Mexico, as the batteries in my camera failed and I couldn't take any pics.

Tomorrow is going to be work-on-John's-bike-so-I-can-get-him-riding-again day. Then to tour Mesa and the area.

La Vie En Rose

Dateline: Montclaire, CA
You know life is good when you're cruising along in your Hyundai in the company of Boxsters, Maseratis, Beamers and Lexi and they are all fighting for a lane to get to wherever they have to be to make the next payment on their lease. In the meantime you are grooving to La Vie En Rose or finger-tapping to Baby Driver going nowhere but East and not having to be anywhere till whenever you get there.
Breakfast was bread (sourdough from last night's feast) and water (bought ages ago somewhere in Illinois) on the San Bernardino Freeway. A meal fit for a king. Now I'm at a Starbux to catch up, caffeine up, load maps into Guida and gas up when I find a Shell station. I'll be hopping back onto 10 East and will decide on Yuma when I see the first sign.
Joe: Thanx a million for the great time and the 350+ miles of cycling we enjoyed. Sorry about the Jamba Juice on the brakes-I'm sure you'll devise a better cup-holder than the one I jury rigged. Can't remember; did your flat come before or after the juicing. Perhaps the nail got picked up by the goo. Anyway, I'll make you the same offer as I did to Paul: Make it to Maine and I'll buy you a lobster and a 40.
O.T.R.A.

Back in L.A.

Great trip to Santa Barbara. We started off Monday morning early and cycled sixteen miles to the train station in downtown L.A. went through several 'hoods, Koreatown, the homeless park which has been de-populated and the old downtown area. Hopped the Amtrack for Ventura and then cycled 50+ miles to Sta. Barbara. Weather was variable warm to foggy/chilly. took our time, looked for Jamba Juice stores and laughed all the way. I picked up an unusual souvenir on the way north. I spied a book lying at the side of the road and passed it by, dismissing it as litter. Curiosity got the better of me and i turned around to check it out. Turns out it is an unsullied copy of Aldous Huxley's The Doors Of Perception and Heaven And Hell. Should make for entertaining reading in the Pod while trying to fall asleep. Spent the night at Joe's sister Mae's house and met the family; Steve, her husband, Michelle (daughter) who just ran her first half-marathon and Kevin, her boyfriend from Costa Rica.

Off early this morning for the ride down the coast thru Sta. Barbara, Oxnard, Port Huaneme, Malibu and all sorts of other places I can't name and wouldn't be in the right order anyway. Found a Jamba Juice store somewhere in there and bough Joe his first. He was happy with it until it spilled all over his front tire and caused his brakes to squeal badly. More laughter all the way. He had a flat somewhere in Oxnard and we took a break from pedalling to get that fixed. Then we got to the hilly section of the Pacific Coast Highway and huffed and puffed along. Had some great stretches where we slipped alongside crashing surf with dolphins broaching alongside-the stuff that you read about in travel mags. Well, we lived it, and it was beautiful. Down the road in Malibu, we stopped to watch para-surfers or whatever they are called. These guys have short surfboards like snowboards, and they use parasails to pull them out to sea or until they spy a good wave. Then they do an abrupt about face and surf the wave, all the while getting a great pull from the wind, until they kick out in shallow water and get pulled out again. I got some shots, the one I'll post shows one guy actually "getting air" and being pulled airborne quite a way. Amazing.

Hopped a bus in Trancas Canyon and rode it back into Santa Monica. Remounted the cycles there after being olfactorily assaulted by a homeless guy sacked out on the bus stop bench. I've whiffed better smelling corpses. He was alive, I know, beccause he eyed me while I walked by with my bike. Back in the city! Actually, I'm beginning to like L.A.

Got back to the apartment and quaffed a couple of Bohemias, then hied off to Alejo's, Joes favourite Italian restaurant. They didn't have a license so we picked up some beer and a bottle of Ravenswood Cabernet to accompany the meal. Shrimp Diablo, Alejo's house salad, Sourdough bread with GARLIC butter, all in proportions that shouldn't be eaten by sane people-which we were not. After all, we did cycle 77.864 miles today and had to replenish...

Early-up tomorrow. Joe has a tennis match at 0730 and I have to move the car/Pod before 0800 when the street cleaning crew will ticket and/or tow. I'm off for Arizona and don't know where I'll lay my tired bones. Suffice it to say, I will probably hole up in the desert somewhere and try to get my system re-acclimated to my "healthy" diet of soy, granola and veggies. I will then, most likely, darken Phred's doorstep.

Has anyone read the article in the latest Bicycling Magazine issue about Biketown Africa. Well, they are looking for people to go over to Namibia and help assemble bikes and teach health workers how to maintain/repair the bikes that are being donated to NGOs which are attempting to fight AIDS. Have wrench, will travel.
Hasta Luego, and til wherever I get connected,
Gloxy

L.A. day 3

Well, I've been in the city too long. Do you recall that experiment wherein someone crowded too many rats into a space and they eventually became antisocial and fratricidal? This morning some jerk pushed me repeatedly with his shopping cart and I became antisocial after the third time. It's a good thing he was all hawk and no spit because I was ready to soil his new mop handle for him. Time to go...

Did laundry, and then headed for the beach while Joe went to one of the ethnic enclaves to play against a win-at-all-cost minority team. He was concerned about winning and leaving without incident, but fortunately (I guess) they lost the series, though his team won their sets.

Anyway, at the beach I stood around listening to a drum circle for about half an hour, grooving on the sounds and trying not to inhale-after all, I got there by bike and wanted to get home in one piece. I was the only white-guy-from-away, and stood out like a white guy from away. No problem, lots of people said "Hi" and one even offered me a toke. I hoped he wouldn't think I was undercover when I refused, but then I am a bit older than your average cop. Recorded a lot of the music, but my machine didn't do it justice-good souvenir, though.

Then I cycled down the beach and watched some surfers trying to catch the last wave-nothing like Hawaii or the surfers there. They were probably all tourists with rented boards-they looked about as bad as I did back in 64/65.

Back to Pollo Loco again tonight for dinner. It is a Mexican version of Kentucky Fried and has it beat, hands down. The sides include Spanish rice, black beans, avocado dip, salsa, etc. Main dishes are chicken, of course, tamales, burritos, and all the regular suspects. I could live there. Nick, remember that great beer I discovered in Cozumel? Bohemia-well I found it here and it hasn't changed.

Peachy, got your txt late at night, actually I discovered it late when I plugged it in to charge. I didn't feel or hear the phone go off. Great that you're on the bike. Harish's reaction when you told him that you'd found your Xmas present looked really positive. Hope they still can order the red one. I looked all over the beaches for a Jamba Juice place, but to no avail. Apparently they are not popular with the beach crowd. Did have a good one for lunch in San Juan Obispo the other day and I hope that I find them further East. Had a great time-waaay to rushed. Next year...

Off to Ventura by train tomorrow and then bike to Santa Barbara. Blog day off tomorrow and I don't know whether I'll be able to update on Tuesday night when I get back. Hitting the road zero-dark-thirty on Wed. and heading I don't know where. Isn't that great? I'll let you know where I am when I find it.

L.A. Day 2

50.066 paved miles later I've seen the beaches of Manhattan, Redondo, Hermosa and been to Torrance. Experienced all the names and places you hear watching the cops and wops classics, Dirty Harry and Adam-12. We cruised Venice Beach again, this time with people. Saturday and sun bring out the crowds and the human interest stories. I didn't have to pay $3.00 to see "The Greatest Freak Show On Earth", I stayed on the boardwalk and saw it for free. Didn't get to see the two-headed frog, though, that's a missed opportunity.

There were some really good jazz musicians playing, a folk singer and a really jumpin' drum circle consisting of about twenty individuals of various ethnicities. Saw the hos, pimps, geeks and gonzos, the college kids, old wastrels and tourists from Minnesota, the ancient asian guys in $500 suits accompanied by twenty-something (if that) chickie-poos with their B.K. aprons stuffed into the rear pockets of painted-on jeans and the Grecian-god Adonises strutting their stuff hoping to land one of the Beemer-driving blondes who migrated west with Woody Guthrie.
It's not New Sweden, Saint John or Westbrook, it is interesting and it ain't home...wherever that is.

Since I'm seeing one of the other sides of life, I thought I'd try some diverse, exotic food. We tried a spot in Redondo which had stuff I've heard of but haven't tried-in a while. Bacon-cheeseburger royale, fries and onion rings with a side of mayo, as they serve it in Belgium. If you're ever cruising Redondo, I'd recommend this place. Can't attest to the Greek menu, though.

Tomorrow is a day of rest. I only need to do 89.something miles, but I think I'll hold off. Should wash the roadie and do laundry. Monday Joe and I are taking our bikes on the train to Ventura, then ride to Santa Barbara, spend the night and then ride down the Pac Highway and Ventura Highway back to Trancas Canyon and finish by bus back to L.A. Wednesday, I hit the road for either Yuma or Mesa or wherever I care to stop in Arizona for a rest and some solitary time in the desert.

Cruising the beach

Joe and I hit the beach after I test rode his Fuji and made a few corrections. We hit Venice, Santa Monica, Marina and Playa del Rey Beaches. Saw all the stereotypes, lots of "beautiful" people, more homeless (sleeping in their bags) or wrapped in them sharing smokes and paper-bagged beverages. Probably soy milk. Saw a few houses with massive shoring keeping them perched on future mudslides, and a couple of large gouges where there used to be houses. Joe pointed out a dumpy place with a great swath of what looked like new dirt packed on the downhill side and told me that it would probably go for about a million. Not to this homeboy.

We toured the canal area of Venice Beach where some developer decided, in 1905, to re-create Venice. I'm told that twenty years ago the houses were going for a song. Now they are untouchable. Reminded me a lot of the "Jungle", that three block swath of pre-WWII cottages in between Kalakaua and Ala Wai Boulevards. That's where Mau and I hung out that summer the Draft Board reclassified me 1-A. Man, the wild things you do when you think you're Vietnam-bound.

We also cruised several bike shops looking for the perfect bike for Joe. I saw a lot of toys that made my mouth water, but we couldn't find the Grail. Now that his Fuji is running well, he may not have to buy a new one. Tonight we're going to try and solve his dislike for leaning into the drops on the touring bike by flipping them. May not work with the integrated shift/brake levers, but it'll be fun to try. We'll do it after a hearty supper of chips, salsa and Cerveza Pacifica-all the major food groups and no cholesterol.
Cheers!

I'MMMMMMM Baaaaaack!

Just like the Terminator or Edward Scissorhands, I am. Have been spit up from the (lovely) bowels of the South Coast, into the sun-drenched, nubile-bodied, plastic-modeled, super-cool and outrageously expensive civilisation of San Luis Obispo County. I've found a couple of towns I decided could be turned into home-just by driving through them. Probably costs a couple of thousand to make an appointment to SEE a real estate agent; so I'll just put them on the long list.

Where do I start? Back near Salinas and the earthquake. Made it to a campsite just before dark, tired and hungry from taking the "shortest distance" route picked by Guida. Well, Damn! I didn't figure she'd send me on old stage coach roads through ranch country where the only form of transportation other than horses is a 4-wd pickup held together by rubber bands and prayer and driven by nuevo-vaqueros tossing beer bottles and waving whips out the shot-out back windows. I'm only guessing at shot-out. They were probably broken out so that bottles could be easily chucked over the shoulder into the bed; either to prevent litter, but more likely as a savings account toward the next case.

Oh, The Earthquake. Anyway, I was just leaving the porta-potty when the floor felt spongy. I thought. "This isn't very well planted." and closed the door from the outside, pushing, only to find that it was firm and solid. I figured I must have had jelly-legs from driving so long looking over cliffs and fighting the urge to regurgitate. Back at the picnic table a minute or so later, I felt the ground shaking back and forth, heard the RVs near me shaking and creaking, and watched all the pretty campsite lights dancing on their strings. My first instinct was to do as Mom had taught us on the other end of the San Andreas Fault: Get under a table. Then I realized that the only thing likely to fall on my heas was THE PICNIC TABLE and then only when it tumbled into the chasm that was going to swallow it. That's when I really got scared. Anyway after an hour, the five second 5.4 quake was over. (You scoffers-look at your watches and contemplate disappearing into the bowels of California for five seconds, then talk to me about fear)
The radio later said there were no serious injuries-Great! It also said that there was no serious damage-Bull! I suffered the loss of a full 20% of my skivvies-Salamat sa Dios, I wasn't in the porta potty.

The next morning, it was drive-thru-fog until I reached Big Sur. No wonder all those writers and artists flocked there, along with the hippies. Had I stayed in Hashbury back in '66 when I toured it with Jeannie G., I might have wound up there. Wonder what the world would llook like now...? Anyway, with three great kids and the life I've lived to this moment, I really think I made the right choice.

So I drove through listening to Joan Baez singing Dylan songs; grooving on the beauty, stopping frequently to capture scenes I want to paint someday. Lots of curves and switchbacks mimicing life and playing out to songs that seem so appropriate, no matter the year:
...You were right from your side and I was right from mine.
We're just one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind...

So last night was spent at San Simeon State Park, a cel/wireless/light-free zone where I found that the ground squirrels didn't like the curry and Biryani rice you provided, Peachy. I did, and they ignored the leftovers which got left out. I cycled in the dense fog this morning, breaking 3700 miles for the year. 4K, here I come. On the road in a few minutes, off to visit Joe K. in Venice Beach. Next edition will be from there.
Love to all!

In California

Landed at Peachy's around 1800, had to overeat the fine vittles prepared by Peachy & Jean Mahoney, now heading for bed. Long day, so I'll post more tomorrow. G'night

DONE!!!

Well, finally, I've got my paper and I'm free. Getting closer to fine. Feeling kind of limp and oily, like a dishrag, only it's 5 weight shock oil and not extra virgin olive. Got my folder at the mustering-out proceedings and haven't checked to see whether the paper was blank. Won't know till the mail hits Westbrook. (Andre, don't throw away anything but junk mail!)

Thank you, Rhonda, for the congratulatory" TOUR de WRENCH " txt. It arrived right on time during the ceremonies. One happy highlight for our finish was that Trent was re-hired (despite lack of seniority) at his old job. The boss had thought he was goofing off when he terminated him due to one store closing; but when he was informed that Trent was at UBI, his response was, "Get him back!" Joshua got two job interviews in Vancouver for Monday morning and won't have to go back to Calgary for the winter. Kiwi Chris has two more weeks in frame building and then it's back to Auckland. The rest of us will be cast to the winds, most to land where we originated. A few will be looking for jobs along the way.

Shan, your congratulatory call arrived in the middle of the final. When the phone started vibrating and playing "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly", it drew a lot of snickers. I was startled, but I'm sure that the mark it caused on the answer sheet was the right answer. The test was 45Q in 45 min. Not bad when you know the answers, as did most of the kids who thrash full suspension mountain bikes, and live, breathe and eat rear triangles, swing arm radii, spring compression rates and viscosity indices, not to mention elastomer hysteresis. I knew where to look stuff up because I spent several hours with the books and notes last night, but my searching for the right page sounded like a windblown newspaper being thrashed to oblivion in a Manhattan alleyway.

Putting in my last shift at the Ashland Stardux. I actually have been recognized as a "regular" here and it will be kind of sad to leave. I actually regret leaving Ashland, as I haven't really explored it and scoped out all the intriguing stores and restaurants. I'm debating treating myself to a sit-down dinner, and even a glass of wine to celebrate. The other option is to go to Safeway, buy a roast chicken, a baguette and a bottle of Cabernet; then back to the"barracks" and pig out on it to the total disgust of my wound-too-tight roommate. Stay tuned for the next episode of "As the Wrench Turns", and the answer to Gloxys quandary.

Wk 4, D3, P1-6, File B 1-4

Six pages of notes four recorded lectures, I don't know how many handwashings due to draining and refilling forks with suspension oil. Makes one really long for the old straight framed mtn. bikes. But then when you consider back injuries... I did learn some stuff about tuning the suspension on the Schwinn which helps in the absence of owners' manuals. The material isn't hard to grasp once you can visualize what is going on INSIDE the fork. Animated flow diagrams would be a great help, but would add to the bottom line.

DylKris, thanks for the packet of information and the Alcatraz cup. I hope it is not a harbinger of things to come. I saw where you circled Ramona St. I am sorely tempted to cycle in there if I can find a relatively secure spot within a reasonable round-trip distance. I don't remember many hills in the 'hood, but then I haven't been there since 1955. I'll have to go to Google Earth to see the topos, if the lousy T-Mobile service can hold up. I've been knocked off three times today.

For those of you keeping an eye open for a Kitchen Buddha for me; "Ho Tai" (I'm told) is a generic name for a pot-bellied, smiling Buddha. I was told to ask for a "Kitchen Buddha"

Joe, What are the fires doing in your neighborhood? I see they have gone near the Simi Valley, but am not that savvy about the geography there.

Phred and John: I'm hoping to spend a couple of days and nights camping in the desert. I'm told that you can go out on federal land and camp anywhere without being in a regulated campground. Izzatso, and if so, do you know of any such areas near Mesa?

SJ&JG, I finally found a different, non-touronic postcard. On it's way tomorrow.

Peachy & Mahones, I'm drooling already, anticipating the pagkain. Geneva sends her regards to all.

Off on my last soy milk/pita run to the local Safeway-2 to go!!

Tuesday down

Well, I've used the adjective "brutal" referring to the pace of the second course. I'll not repeat miself while talking about the wheel-building certification. How about "SATANIC"? It was quite intense, but the big problem I had with one of my wheels. We were given five hours to build two "acceptable" wheels. Naturally, since the school's name is on the certification paperwork, acceptable has a different meaning than it would to the casual rider such as I. And rightly so.

Anyway, I got near the end of my second wheel and was wondering why the spokes were getting shorter. This was a front wheel and all the spokes are supposed to be of equal length. With three left to lace into the rim, I realized that I had four holes to fill. Backtracking to the starting point, I found that the third or fourth spoke had become trapped (and hidden) by the lower (other side) spokes. I had to undo and unlace ten spokes and then start again. Needless to say, it blew my concentration, confidence and constitution. By lunch break I was more than an hour behind the body of the class, and going into the afternoon, I was resigned to doing as much as I could, just to have the wheels nearly done when I pack them up. I knew I wouldn't get certified.

Well, by the grace of God, the encouragement and help of the instructors and my dogged determination to make as much out of the big bucks I spent to do this, I finished. That's not to say that I'm certified. I won't know that until the grades arrive in Westbrook, via snail courier. I still don't know the result of last Friday's final. Todays final of 30 questions in thirty minutes was rigorous, but I'm relatively sure I got a good grade.

Who knows what mephistophelean rigors await us with the Suspension Certification curriculum. We have two and a half days of it. Whoopeeeee!

No pics today. I rushed from class to my roadie and blew off some steam. It was great-averaged 19.4 miles/hr. over a ten mile course. Turned early due to the failing light and managed to beat the terrible hill at the end of the ride without gasping for breath and drooling all over myself. A first! I think my lungs are getting acclimated.

Moon is almost full here. Probably will be in its glory tomorrow night. I've heard it said that the moon is brightest when viewed from a mountain which meets the sea. I'm on a mountain; the sea is far, far away. I miss it.

Had my dessert at Starbux; an espresso brownie and a decaf. Now home to cook the black beans and tomatoes over quinoa. Buenas Noches!

Sunday, a day of rest.

Cold fog greeted us today, but around 1030 two of us took off at 49 degrees for a long one. Went back to Jacksonville and headed through it into some "hills". 60+, tobacco-shredded sea-level lungs couldn't keep up with 23ish on a titanium bike, but I never stopped for a break. Did have to thrash in Granny gear for a half a mile, but...
On the other side, after he took off pedalling downhill, he rode past where we were supposed to turn apparently not seeing me waving frantically. I wasn't doing to chase him downhill for several miles just to tell him that we had to go back up. So I waited. He didn't show back up in half an hour, so I continued. Confucious say, "Not good to leave man with map." I had a good ride and got to ride at my pace, finishing 60 miles about an hour before dark. Speedy came in about fifteen minutes, and probably several miles later.

No new roommates in the Annex. Mr. wound-too-tight-whine-about-everything-knows-more-than-anyone-else lives in the other room. I don't talk to him unless absolutely necessary, so he goes over and makes himself unwelcome in the other room. They have started to lock the door on him 'cause he's such a pain. His twin left Saturday, so things are improved in the annex.
Five more days!!!!

Last Saturday in Ashland

Sounds like the title of a movie. Plot involves a down-and-out homeless former go-go dancer who robs a Starbucks with her disappeared partner's chainsaw and makes off with a basket of espresso brownies to feed her new beau's caffeine habit. No good? well, how about the opening lines of my third novel:



She died quietly, in the embrace of Iowa cornfields which had been washed that pinkish-khaki hue you find only in old British suntan uniforms. The corn flowers stretching to the horizon shimmered in the breeze which had brought a gentle September rain. Her only requiem, the monotonous swish, swish, swish… of the wiper blades may have covered her last soft sound. Perhaps she had uttered something, a whispered, “Goodbye.” but he had heard nothing.

It wasn’t until he turned to ask her if she needed another pain pill, that he discovered she was gone. One look into her vacant stare was all he needed; he had seen that glazed emptiness once before. He wondered what she might have said, and he wondered what he would have said in return.

It was then that he decided to turn around. Yes, he would return to Maine, he would find his duty weapon, and he would kill her husband.

You may ask, "What happened to the first two?" I'll tell you. Here in Anatevka we always start with the third. The first we give up on and the second goes to the tsar. Actually my first attempt started with my own thoughts as I was drowning in Flagstaff Lake. I gave up on that because I lost the disc on which it was written, and I didn't feel like I was drowning anymore. It was pretty good, if I do say so...

Anyway, today was really chilly. It snowed in the foothills and drizzled/misted on us in the valley. I went to the post office and UPS to mail two packages of surplus (cold weather) clothing and textbooks I hope I won't need on the rest of the trip. $57+ for two wine-case sized boxes. Some of the stuff could have been put in the Salvation Army bin, but one never knows when the next depression will hit. I decided to not wander through the stores and get a head start on Christmas shopping because I don't want to schlep the stuff and I can't don't want to support the postal "service". You can all send letters of protest to the Postmaster General and decry the fact that you all get lumps of coal and not cool, hip, locally made, organic, silk screened on woven yak-hair T-shirts protesting W's reign.

Tomorrow is supposed to be really bright and clear so I am going for a long long ride to ponder the questions being forced upon me by the universe. I have the answers, I just have to make myself comfortable with them.

Happy Trails!

Two down, one to go.

Course two is over. I have my "paper" but I'm not free yet-one more (harder) course to do. My exam results will be mailed to my home address, per Oregon State law. If I flunked, I'll find out about the second day when the administrator comes into the classroom and asks me to pack my books and step out. It will be dejavu to the Army days when two armed MPs came into the bomb-building plant where I worked and arrested me because I had a peace symbol on my cigarette lighter. Boy, am I glad I gave up smoking, but that's all another story.

The exam was an eye-opener. It was open book, notes, reference tome or whatever. A few times I flipped through my notebook to look up an answer, and found drool-stained pages and heiroglyphics. Took me back to the days of Economic Geography 203.

All is not lost, though. I can go to my new digital WAV recorder and extract the lectures, match them up with the numbered and dated pages and identify the lectures during which I was forced to nap. All I need is to replace the batteries, read the instructions, find someone to translate the instructions, buy voice recognition/transcription software, read the instructions for that, get translations and load it into this machine after reading the directions, falling asleep and looking for a translator. Andre, What are you doing this winter?

Dylan has alluded to the fact that he might buy some spandex and get out on a roadie next year. I don't know about N.H. but spandex isn't mandatory here. I wear mismatched colors, and mountain/road clothing sometimes covered by an old police-days sweater (with insignia removed, of course) and I am among the more conservatively dressed. Ashland's sartorial state aside, I think we should be looking for a "deal" or "project" bike for him, or anyone else interested. I have a couple hanging off the bannister already, and need to keep my hands in the mechanics while I'm not working at Ernies or looking for the perfect homebase.

I'm going to try to develop an itinerary for the blog, but at this point the only date carved in stone is 10/27. I will be departing Ashland sometime before noon, I hope, and doing the drive to Sacramento; heading for Peachy's. Once there, I hope to have a hard-wire internet connection, so if any of you creditors are watching this blog and tracking my movements: I WILL SEND YOU SOME MONEY THEN!!!!!!

Have a great weekend, all, and I'll be posting provided T-mobile cooperates. I've been knocked off their "Hotspot" service at least twice this afternoon, so I'm in doubt whether I'll get my $40.00 worth of service. It's only money, Right?!?!?!

Taking a chance...

...on connectivity. Am doing this in the barracks, sliding in the back door of someone else's wireless system. I expect to get this post done and find that it won't post. Anyway...
Late night in the shop tonight and then I followed Danny to the Medford airport so he could turn in his rent-a-car and save $800. Went shopping while in the "city" and think I have everything to take me through departure day except for mongoose food, and maybe pita bread.
Tomorrow is the long practical test and then Friday is a day about ergonomic measuring, shop operations and the written final. Out around 1500, and hope the weather is good enough to ride.

I have to do at least 100 miles over the weekend to keep to my schedule. It stinks that the days are getting shorter and anything but a local ride winds up in the dark and cold. We now have snow on the hills that I climbed Saturday-time to pack up and follow the weather. Reminds me of the song, "Urge For Going".

Speaking of which, I've got to go. G'night

Long Day

Logged an hour and a half of "overtime" working on a couple of bikes that were really inb poor shape. Got it done, rushed to apt and cooked black beans brown rice and gray sausage. Then off to Starbux for a decaf coffee and an espresso brownie which will negate the former. They closed at 9:00 and I'm on the street again.
Standing under an overhang, out of the cold drfizzle, feeling like Sal Paradise after he got kicked out of the Harrisburg train station. That from Kerouac's "On The Road" for which I must thank Andre. Great book, and I'm sorry I waited so long to read it. Kind of fits in with the cold drizzle, lukewarm decaf, for which I didn't pay because it was the end of the pot, and the gruel I had for chow. Mot complaining-it tasted great (forgot to mention the spinach/olive oil/balsamic salad), and was certainly healthy-it just looked like hell.
Anyway, that's today. Tomorrow is more of the same and another 7:00 pm night. I hope to be able to use that time to practice wheel-lacing for the advanced course next week.
In the meantime, Joe, my partner from the first week is touring Tahoe, Reno and making his way to Sacramento to use up the old touring bike before I find him a new, higher=end one. Vicarious extravagance-I love it!
Buenas Noches!