Monday, May 30, 2011

Just captions...

Nice shot of the bridge after getting rained on.

Nice light.

Nick and I after shopping for warm clothes.


Memorial Day flags in Monterey.

Yummy strawberries.

White tire artichoke farm.

Ponte something California.

California yard bird

First night on the road, at a perfect campsite with heated bathrooms.

Dinner at camp.

Flowers from the exotic ice plant.

Lunch.











Tour members.

Source of the best coffee I've ever had.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

If I ain't a city boy, does that make me country?


I wrapped up my play time with family and friends in SF by trading in the comforts of a home for the bike touring lifestyle. When my cousin dropped me off downtown I felt just as nervous as I did when my parents dropped me off at college 19 years ago. Fortunately the piles of new faces and names were each as friendly as the next.

Actually, there was a little adventure between my transition. My writing skills can't describe what a maze like city plus Mt. Everest sized hills can inflict on a guy like me but I'm pretty sure I had PTSD for 6 hours. I'm not sure how this happened in the most bike friendly city in the US, but I'll blame it on bad timing and the position of the moon. Stairs instead of sidewalks, the hills are natures way of saying, you shouldn't build here.

Once settled in Mike and I scouted a safe route out of town which consisted of even more hills but this time there were cyclist everywhere and beautiful views of the Pacific. Back at the hotel I met most of the tour participants of the 25 only one of them is from the states. It's pretty funny to see the dynamic between nations, so far the Kiwi's are the coolest folks.

Today we did a quick ride up to San Rafael, who knew that California had so many bike paths that you actually have to pick the right one?

Ok, it's too late for anything other than photos, see you in the country.






Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Panda Hats & The TSA

Tahoe


The night before my big trip, Delta Airlines called me during dinner to let me know they had canceled my flight because they may need the plane for something else. I'm still not sure what that something else could be, maybe someone's kid was contemplating bringing it in for show and tell. A few phone calls later I was told to report to the airport at 8:45 and tell them my name and everything would be taken care of. Seriously!? When I arrived at the empty counter the lady asked if I wanted a window seat and sent me on my way, at that point I was positive I was getting a late April Fools surprise party. Instead, I got seat 1A which 'm pretty sure is typically reserved for rocks stars. Things were looking good, so why were 3 stern TSA folks walking toward me? After a full body pat-down with horrified passengers looking on I was free to go. Later my luggage had a note in it saying it also had been searched (nice gesture don't you think). I guess a oneway ticket and a beard raises a few flags these days.


Step two of my flight was also a bit interesting. I had no ticket, gate number or flight number in Atlanta so I tracked down the only flight to San Fran. The gate was easy to find, it was the stall surrounded by an angry mob who hated all things Delta. Once I shoved my way through I told the worn out guy at the counter that I was Cliff and I wanted to get on the plane, he said, "sure I remember your name" and handed me my ticket. Fortunately passengers are not allowed to carry pitchforks through security or I would not be here today. I later learned that the mob had good reason to dislike Delta and me, the plane had been boarded then de-boarded and in the process the lucky got different seats and the unlucky were booted off the flight to wait four hours for the one. Things were once again looking good, this time it got better. Once on board, the folks next to me were shuffled over and I got a hold of a window seat and new seat neighbors who turned out to be friends of the family who's generosity and conversation made the five hour flight feel like two.

Arastradero Preserve

Thanks to my long time friend Colleen, I was running on sweet California singletrack within an hour of getting off the plane on trails packed with great views, blooming flowers and piles of wildlife. The hills were brutal compared to what I’m used to but the 60 degree bug free weather distracted me from noticing. It was on that run it became clear why people pay so much to live out here.

Downtown SF

My long easy travel day was capped off at a San Francisco Giants game with hot dogs, beer and people watching, chilled to bone by a typical frigid summer night. By the end of the game I was cold enough to contemplate stealing one of the thousands of giant fuzzy panda beanies I was ridiculing people for wearing; instant karma I suppose.


Friday, May 20, 2011

The Sunny Side

Post 5k Sunset

Most social situations I enter are a product of coercion via email and relentless phone calls. The lastest conspirator was Andy Roberts.

I'm perfectly content with being a closet runner, I enjoy not knowing how slow I really am. On the bike my ego forces me to fake being fast when I need to, because I was briefly considered speedy years ago. The thing I love about running is that I'm pretty average and if I train very hard on a strict schedule I will still be average. I absolutely love that I'm never tempted to over extend myself and get a silly avoidable injury.

Now that I have a few years of uninterrupted running in my legs I'm a little more comfortable branching out and running with humans rather than with my bobcat and turkey friends. Despite my urge to run with people every once in a while, I'm not going to do anything about it. Here's where Andy comes in.

There's a fast 5k run every Thursday at the Miccosukee Greenway that Andy never misses, the group that forms this run has been meeting long enough that the starting line tree has died and been discarded by the park service. Each run is capped off with a splash of water to cool off and a large cooler of beer (water is optional). I know this sounds fun but getting crushed by runners spanning in age from 22 to late 50's and being the interloper in this tightly knit group is intimidating to me.

This week Andy finally talked me into running the hilly gauntlet of trails and grass. The one mile warmup was nice and easy, everybody chit chatted and poked fun of their friends and this helped settle my nervous stomach. Once we hit the starting line where the tree once stood the explosion of speed I was expecting never took place, in fact the acceleration happened so slow that I didn't realize that the top tier runners were way ahead of me until a minute or two later. To my surprise I was able to hang with a couple folks I knew despite running up a half mile grassy climb with the sun beating down. When we cut back in the woods I was still hanging on, oddly I would fall back on the descents and catch up on the climbs. On the final stretch I drifted off the back while my two pacers built up their gap during the steep up hill finish.

At the finish I was greeted by strangers smiling and shaking my hand. The fun conversations continued throughout our warm down back to the trailhead while I glowed in the satisfaction that I smashed my 5k PR. A half a beer later I was hanging out with a pile of new friends watching the sunset.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

How much is enough?

My Lynskey racked up with big gears.

The past two weeks I've been contemplating nearly every aspect of my upcoming bike trip from San Francisco to the Grand Canyon. What will the steep chilly mountains and the hot flat desert dish out and what sort of gear will assist in my comfort? How many lenses is enough, would an extra camera body come in handy, two pairs of long pants or one?

After a string of sleepless nights pondering details and a couple spending sprees on Amazon and Sierra Trading Post I'm geared up and ready for whatever these 1000 miles dish out. Protective computer case, extra batteries, a couple new pairs of bike shorts and an 11-28 11-32 cog set (was the 11-28 enough?).

Now that I'm in the packing phase of the trip and I can see all my outdoor gear in one place I notice a couple of very important things I failed to see. First of all, I have too much gear. Secondly I failed to notice a long list of necessities to complete this trip that I already had, like a cool job, great wife, a supportive family and a large pile of great friends. It's too bad the important stuff wont fit in my bags.

Now I know I've always had enough.