In which I announce that I am capable of occasionally following through on a plan

Last night a man handed me a large stack of cash and I handed him my car keys. Today I traded most of that large stack of cash for a receipt showing my credit card balance at $0.00.

Then, because I can only be perfectly responsible for so long, I marched right out and bought new shoes. In my defense, the shoes I bought were both attractive and responsibly comfortable.

"The universe is so large that it causes my mind to reboot whenever I try to think about it."

Space and time both do that to me. Only my brain doesn't reboot; it freezes. I have to make a conscious attempt to reboot. Here's a post that describes the befuddled awe better than I yet have, even if my experience diverges from his about halfway through.

Have fun storming the castle!

At the end of July Mr. Thel and I packed our bags and headed south for a week of sunshine in Oregon. We spent a few days with my family, being lavishly feted and feasted as is right and proper, and then camped up a river that rhymes with "Humpqua," famed for its fly fishing and scenery.

THe day before we left I had stopped by the Ravenna Third Place Books to pick up the final Harry Potter installment. I've never been one to snatch up any of the HP books on the day of their release, hopping impatiently from one foot to the other outside a bookstore at midnight; I didn't read the first one until years after its release. But I figured I'd better read this one more quickly, before having the ending spoiled for me.

I browsed around the bookstore while I was there, and a used copy of Stardust, by Neil Gaiman, intrigued me enough to add it to the total. When you're already spending $35 on one book, what's another $6.50? I figured I'd have plenty of reading to keep me busy throughout our vacation.

Naturally I instead devoured the Harry Potter finale (verdict: good, not great. The epilogue, in particular, got on my nerves. At least I was right about a few conjectures.) by the end of Tuesday...so I picked up Stardust. I lingered over it longer, but I adored it completely. Gorgeously written, beautifully described and plotted--really, contrasting Stardust with Harry Potter felt like eating at Burger King one night and then having an expensive steak the next night. Except for the fact that that would be way too much beef in a short time period. But, you know--it was incomparable and lovely. I came home and was gobsmacked to see that it's been made into a movie which is coming out on Friday. Serendipitous! You can bet your boots that I'll be seeing it. It's being compared to Princess Bride, so come on. You know you want to see it, too.

They call it "half a century" *

*Ed. note, 9 September 2007: They have informed me that "they" actually refer to it as "a half-century." So now we both know.

I took the day off today for various reasons. I am loving the extra vacation time I get at work now--over 3 weeks a year. Whee! That's an almost civilized level of vacation time!

I had set myself a goal for today--a personal challenge. Last Saturday Mr. Thel and I rode our new road bikes 34 miles up and back on the Centennial Trail between Snohomish and Arlington. That was the third time I'd ridden over 30 miles at a go, after a trek down the Green River Trail and another down the Cedar River Trail in late May and early June. Having accomplished that, I decided to challenge myself to do a 50-mile ride on my day off.

I pored through routes online and in my copy of Biking Puget Sound, looking for something just over 50 miles that wouldn't be impossible to accomplish. In other words, I didn't want to ride up Snoqualmie Pass or anything. Yesterday I decided to combine this goal with another and ride around Lake Washington. The length was right, at around 55 miles from home, but the guidebook did list the ride as "strenuous," and I wondered nervously whether I ought to try an "easy" or "moderate" ride first.

Nevertheless, I set out this morning at 6:50 (a bit later than planned, thanks to the neighborhood fireworks that didn't let up until somewhere around 2:30 a.m.). The first ten miles were familiar friends, covering the same route I ride to work all the time. From there it was just a mile or two up to the Burke Gilman Trail, which wasn't too crowded at 8:00 a.m. the day after July 4th. That made for a nice, flat run up to Kenmore; I stopped at 8:50 across from the Lake Forest Park (Third Place Books) shopping center for a snack and a short break.

I had to make a quick bathroom stop at a park just up the road, and then headed on around the north tip of the lake. I climbed the longest hill I've yet done, a slow incline up Juanita Drive past Saint Edwards State Park. I am enormously proud to announce that I rode the whole way up without being forced to get off and walk. I had to stop halfway up at a traffic light (a welcome break), but other than that I just crept steadily uphill. Then down, down, down, down into Kirkland.

I was in unfamiliar territory now, which slowed me down quite a bit as I had to stop and refer to my cue sheet to find the route through Kirkland and Bellevue. (I must make a note to go back and stroll along the "Corduroy Road" next to Juanita Beach Park...) I probably added at least a mile or two to my route at two points where the book's directions confused me. It was after 10:00 and starting to heat up a little, though there was a cooling breeze all morning. I was starting to get a little hungry again, and then I had to get off and walk my bike up two short, steep hills in the Clyde Hill area. I was being very good at drinking water and Gatorade while riding, so I was well hydrated, but my energy started to wane as I wound slowly through the twisty, hilly roads north of I-90.

Finally seeing Enatai park just under the freeway was a relief. I stopped for another bathroom break, a water refill, and half a packet of sunflower seeds before resuming my journey. I knew I was over halfway by now, which cheered me up, but I was just tired enough to seriously contemplate the option of taking the bike path over I-90 and then back down the 6 miles home from there...but no, having gone halfway I was determined to see it through.

On down along I-405 on a bike path, and then another accidental detour down to Newcastle Beach Park, I think...retraced my ride (uphill, naturally) and went on, hoping to get to Gene Coulon Park in Renton by noon. I made that deadline with only minutes to spare, and took another fifteen minute break for water and M&M's. I knew I'd gone nearly 50 miles at that point (my bike computer didn't work today at all, so I had to base my mileage on the book's cue sheet), and was delighted to find that I wasn't completely knackered. It really does help to drink water constantly en route! I flew out of the park, back on familiar ground, and down through Renton, around the south tip of the lake, and back up Rainier Avenue home, almost exactly six hours since I'd left.

I rode about 55 miles in about 5 hours of riding time, I reckon...probably even a little less, but that's my best estimate of break times, anyway. Total elevation gain, according to the book, was a little over 1800 feet. I made it up that Juanita hill on my first try. And best of all, I didn't push myself beyond endurance.

Half a century down! Hm, now what goal shall I set next?

What Thel Saw

Yesterday morning I had big plans to celebrate summer solstice by waking before dawn to watch the sun rise on the longest day of the year. Since dawn was officially at 5:11 a.m., I didn't quite meet that goal.

I did get up just about that time, though, and rode up through Colman Park to the I-90 bike trail. I stopped at the park overlooking the bridge and watched the sunny morning sky, the cars on the bridge, and the many bicycles crossing the bridge.

When I turned to head west to MLK and thence north to work, the clouds were rolling in from the Pacific. A rainbow glimmered through the approaching rain, and greyness overtook the clear blue sky. I didn't get rained on at all, though. It was so early that I stopped for coffee and a doughnut before work, and even so I made it to work before any sprinkling started.

I rode through the bike tunnel to get to MLK. The closely-spaced lights threw repeated shadows against the wall, a grey bicycling woman who kept passing me on my right. It was a fun repetition at first, but I must say I began to feel like I was losing a race after a minute or so...

What else I saw:

*A small flock of ducks crouched at the lapping edge of Lake Washington at 5:30 a.m., heads under their wings in early-morning sleep.

*A woman who has almost precisely the reverse of my commute. She lives down the street from where I work, and rides her bike to teach at the school just a few blocks from my house. She was hit by a car coming out of a driveway last year, and broke some bones, but she has recovered enough to be riding again.

*Another woman bicyclist passed me yesterday morning as I was turning off the lakefront road to climb a new hill overlooking I-90. She was wearing what may have been a tie-dyed pink and yellow shirt. As she flew past she called cheerfully, "Happy summer!" I barely had time to reply, "You too!" before she was gone.

Happy summer.

Shrubbery

Confidential to the "creepy, unauthorized pruner": when you've finished clearing Wallingford's sidewalks, there's a bunch of overgrown nonsense in the Montlake neighborhood that you are invited to address. Check out the west side of 24th Ave E between about Newton and Boyer for some big fun; that stretch is so ridiculous that two pedestrians walking in opposite directions this morning had to negotiate which of them would go first. Good luck!

Metrics

I went for a bike ride on Saturday, riding down to the end of the Green River Trail in Kent and back up home to Rainier Beach again.

Number of miles ridden: 38
Number of miles by which this exceeds my previous longest ride: 12

I felt like a cartoon, I was so happy to be out there. The sun was out, the trail was surprisingly uncrowded--nothing like the Burke Gilman, which is the only other regional trail I've ridden on. I stopped for a break after 12 miles in a newish park in the Kent area, dedicated to three men who died on a fishing trip in Alaska a couple of years ago. The park had a shelter, restrooms, picnic tables, a barbecue grill, and lush green grass...and nobody was there. On a sunny Saturday. Of a three-day weekend. Weird. I refilled my water bottle at the drinking fountain and went on another 7 miles, to where the Green River Trail intersects with the Interurban Trail.

I thought about taking the Interurban back up to Tukwila to make the ride a loop, but saved that one for a different day. I was in a windy trail mood, a mood for meandering along the riverbank and behind office parks and under bridges, not for a straight-as-an-arrow sprint back north. I wandered home, showered, and headed out to the bookstore with Mr. Thel for dinner and literature.

Despite my expectations, I wasn't even sore on Sunday. Of course, the trail is flat as can be...but still, I preened a little at the evidence of my budding strength. I can't imagine a better way to spend part of a Saturday, and I can't wait to go out again.

Crunchings and munchings for all

Perhaps in all the hubbub over Jerry Falwell's death last week you did not hear of the passing of Lloyd Alexander.

I read Lord of the Rings for the first time in first grade, and was skipped past second grade, so in fourth grade I was placed in an advanced learning program. Since it was such a rural school district, the program--known as "TAG," for the "talented and gifted" students--had to bus us smartypants together at one school; there weren't enough of us at any one elementary school to justify creating programs at each school. So on Tuesdays and Thursdays a little van would pick three or four of us up from Tenmile Elementary, swing by Lookinglass Elementary for Rachel, Michael, Guion, and Gerard, and deposit us at McGovern with the other smartypantses already there.

We studied Spanish, built little engine-driven machines out of something like Erector sets, kept journals, and spent a lot of time in the library. Alas, aside from the Spanish, I have forgotten much else of what I'm sure was a pretty good program for its time and place. Aside from the daily trauma of playing four-square on the playground--even among the other nerds, I was a standout loser at four-square--my most vivid memory is of reading Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles that year. In fact, one day in the library I became so engrossed in the tales of Taran, Eilonwy, Gurgi, Dallben, Gwydion, and the unforgettable Fflewddur Fflam that I somehow managed to get myself left behind in some corner of the library. I missed the van back to TenmiIe, and thus the bus home. I think Dad had to come pick me up on his way home from work. I'm pretty sure the incident had no effect on my absent-mindedness, nor on my ability to tune out the rest of the world when necessary. However, now that I work in a small office with someone whose job requires a lot of peppy phone calls, this flaw has redeemed itself a bit.

I've re-read the Prydain books several times since that first enchanting encounter in the library in fourth grade, and every time am re-charmed by the strength of the myth and character and humor in them. So, Lloyd Alexander, I lift a glass for you tonight. As you said, we are all Assistant Pig-Keepers at heart.

What Thel Saw

On Cloverdale
A brown-and-white pit bull is resting halfway out of an open second-story window, his front legs casually crossed, looking contemplatively out at the street like a jowly middle-aged man planning his escape.

On Lake Washington Boulevard
There is a woman wearing a yellow jacket and black shorts, her curly grey hair flowing in the breeze, who rides her bicycle every morning along Lake Washington Boulevard. She rides south in the mornings and north in the evenings, so we cross paths with a nod on the days that I ride. She, however, rides every single day. I have seen her every morning from my car for the past three or four months, rain or shine. Usually in the mornings when I drive our paths cross just at the top of the Seward Park hill--the same hill I had to get off and walk up the first time I encountered it. She crests it smoothly, seated, her legs moving sedately. When I ride my bike I am on the road much earlier, and our paths cross up north of I-90. She rides with just as much easy grace on the flatter road there--not for her the hunched-over grimace and the racing whirl. She gives me a slow nod without losing cadence, and I feel like I've crossed paths with a queen.

The best thing Thel saw
Coming up away from the lake near the end of my ride, the road climbs through a series of S-curves. Non-athlete that I am, I always slow down to become the pokiest little puppy imaginable up that hill. This morning just where the slope begins, a bad-ass man came whizzing up past me, clad in black and blue spandex. Perched high up on his back was a wee pink backpack sporting the Dora the Explorer logo. I only had a few moments to take it in before he was gone around the corner, far fitter and faster than I. And although you didn't bother calling "on your left" as all the polite bicyclists do, I salute you, swift athletic Dora-loving man.

Pedal to the Metal

I'm on track to ride 3 days this week--more days than driving! And heaven knows I must ride on Friday, the actual Bike to Work Day!

In response to comments on the last post (comments!) I'm still pondering the car sale. I've spent so many years struggling with a credit card debtload...it would be ever so lovely to get out from under it all at once. I do hesitate because, well, yeah...riding my bike to work for a week in lovely May weather, when the sun is up before 6:00 a.m. and the birds sing as the wispy mist on the lake melts away, is a far cry from riding to work and back in the dark and rain and mud and puddles of December. I know my willpower will quail before such a prospect.

BUT. Luckily for me, I happen to live one block from the bus line that takes me directly to work with no transfers. It's a poky sort of route right now, especially with MLK down to one lane each way for the light rail construction, but it still only takes about an hour--about the same amount of time as riding to work, actually. So if I did sell the car and end up desperate for warm transport to work of a freezing winter morn, I would have a pretty easy alternative. This makes the idea of going carless easier to swallow.

I'm so glad you guys commented...what else am I missing? I want to run this past as many skeptics as possible! Lord knows I already know what the folks at the Cascade Bicycle Club forums would say, so this is far better critique of the proposal.