But that being said, I do sometimes like the feeling of flying. Last night, with too much pent-up energy, I found myself pounding it hard down an eerily empty Springwater Corridor. And then in totally un-stasialike fashion, I also found myself cranking up and down and up and down and up and down the also eerily quiet Riverview Cemetery.  Un-stasialike fashion, I say, because I’m not really into going up and down things over and over–I’d rather find another hill and see something new–but for whatever reason last night it seemed appealing.

And it did feel so good to crank it like hell up the hill and zoom back down, even if, like I said, it probably wasn’t objectively all that fast. It felt fast to me, and that’s what I was going for. (Though promise me you won’t do the zoom thing when there are people around in the cemetery).

It also kind of gave me a bigger appreciation for those stalwart few (or many?) of you who actually do stuff like this on a normal basis for training. Those of you who actually motivate to go up and down ad nauseum because you’re keeping track of things like heart rate and speed and cadence and what-have-you–you guys have my respect. I liked doing it yesterday when I was looking to burn off a whole bunch of pent-up energy, but I really don’t know that I could be motivated to do it all the time, just with the tenuous belief that it’s making me a better cyclist.

Though I could see that it would be good for you, I’m not sure I have the heart for training in the conventional sense of the term. My “training” is to ride my bike as much as I possibly can, because I like it, and to seek out hills, also because I like them. This is probably why I’m not the speediest speedster in the west: I’m only doing what I like–which does involve pushing myself because I like the feeling of having met a challenge, but it’s definitely not the strategic and plotted pushing of formal training. Those of you who can do that are kind of amazing.

I’ve also written that I love being on my bike for how much more it allows me to interact with the surrounding world–I hear more, see more, smell more, experience more about the world through which I’m traveling.

If you combine those two things, you get what I sometimes fondly think of as the aural quest for impromptu live music. That is, the phenomena of hearing music and then following it until I find out what’s going on.

Sometimes, it leads to me music that is for a purpose and has clearly been planned in advance, like these mariachis I found on First Thursday this month.

And sometimes, I find a random guy playing his bagpipe on the river.

Either way, it makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something when I can track down music I hear from a distance. And then I get a free concert. An all-around win:)

We’ll overlook that and just celebrate the fact that I am now officially a holder of a real live Oregon driver’s license.

*

I’d been led to believe that the knowledge test required here to get your license was going to be difficult, so I’d made it a point in the last two days to actually read the driver’s handbook. I wasn’t particularly excited about doing it, but you know what? Now that I have, I’ve come to the conclusion that people actually should read it. And probably not only the once when they first take the test when they’re 16 (or 15). The handbook is periodically updated to reflect changing laws or infrastructure–shouldn’t our knowledge of it periodically be updated, too?

I’ve been driving for about 13 years of my life. I mean, I don’t really drive in my normal daily life anymore, but I do drive for work and have been known to take the occasional zip car or a friend’s car out of town. I would consider myself a very safe, very considerate driver, and I follow the rules of the road. That being said, there was definitely stuff in that handbook that I didn’t know.

Some of it’s stuff that I’m not sure I need to know, like for how long your license will be revoked if you get a DUII. But some of it was actually kind of interesting, and I think knowing it makes me a more cogent driver. For example, did you know that if you see someone on a horse, say, and they raise their hand, that’s a signal that their horse is spooked and you shouldn’t pass them yet? I didn’t. And maybe that example doesn’t really come up much in normal life, but do you know all the rules about when you can turn right or left on a red light? How about rules about bike boxes? Or that if you’re driving over 60mph at night, you’re essentially driving blind, since your headlights don’t illuminate far enough ahead of you for your speed?

A lot of driving knowledge comes from common sense or from seeing what other people do–but as infrastructure changes (bike boxes, for example, which didn’t exist when many current drivers took their knowledge tests), doesn’t it make sense that we would expect people to keep current too? Not simply by absorbing (or not) the knowledge by osmosis somehow, but by actually reviewing the educational materials that are created to ensure that there’s a shared knowledge base about how to behave?

I’m not sure if I’m calling for regular testing here or what, but it seems kind of silly to me that we assume that once you read whatever version of the driver’s handbook is current when you first get your license, you’ll then forever know all the rules and courtesies about driving. Even if those rules sometimes change. (This also hearkens back to something I wrote over a year ago about licensing and how it’s hard to renew your license here for all the wrong reasons.)

I’m actually kind of glad I read what Oregon currently has to say about what it takes to safely operate a motor vehicle. And I kind of want to know that other people know it, too.

(North and Middle Sister as seen from near the summit of Mckenzie Pass)

Since then, I learned that during the spring, the Oregon Department of Transportation plows one lane of traffic over the pass and then opens it only to cyclists and pedestrians while they wait for the rest of the snow to melt and make the pass fully accessible for cars too. What this means is that for a few weeks each year, this amazingly gorgeous ride is open only to human-powered transportation–you can bike or walk all over the road, pull to the side when you want to take a picture, stop randomly, and it doesn’t matter, because nothing will be coming up behind you except for maybe more cyclists and pedestrians.

(In a classic example of “build it and they will come,” it also means that many, many cyclists make the trek out to bike it–check out all the bikies parked at Dee Wright Observatory at the summit!)

This year, I was determined to make it down before the pass opened to cars. Last weekend was my chance–James, our friend Craig and I borrowed a car and a bike rack, loaded ourselves up, and headed down to Sisters to camp, hang out, and bike over the pass and back.

Staying in Sisters

I’m fairly certain I’ve mentioned here before that Sisters is one of my favorite towns in Oregon. It’s super cute, full of local businesses, sprinkled with public art (and public restrooms, which you know my feelings about if you’ve already read this;) and full of friendly people. Plus, there’s a city campground right in town–super convenient, since you can walk from it to anything you need.

We’d planned to stay there. Sadly, we didn’t realize that both the Sisters Rodeo and the Arts and Crafts in the Park festival were happening that same weekend, and the campground was full full full. But luckily, Bob, the campground host, is super accommodating, and when I sort of defeatedly asked him about recommendations for other places to camp, he absolutely refused to let us leave. Instead, he found us a spot between two other campsites and squished us in. Awesome:)

(we even got our own picnic table, since basically everyone around us was in an RV and had their own stuff anyway. Score!)

The Scenic Bikeway

This ride leaves right from Sisters, so the next morning after wandering into town to get coffee (for James and Craig) and breakfast (for everyone:), we got ourselves ready and took off right from the campground.

(this is possibly my favorite bike sign ever. I love that there are so many bikeway options from Sisters:)

Like I said, the ride is absolutely amazing. From Sisters, it’s only a few (about 7) friendly miles to the first snowgate, where the route becomes officially carfree.

(James celebrates the impending car-free road:)

Then, it’s only a few more (10-ish) uphill miles to the Dee Wright Observatory at Mckenzie Summit for a grand total of about 2100 feet of elevation gain from Sisters. It’s actually a very civilized climb–never super steep, and plenty beautiful enough to keep your mind off climbing anyway.

There were a lot of other people out, not all of whom were regular cyclists, many of whom had super heavy-looking mountain bikes. It’s definitely a ride you can do without being super hardcore, even though the elevation profile is much more strenuous-looking than other bikeways. Actually, though the whole length of the bikeway, from Sisters to the other side, is 36 miles, many people simply biked from Sisters (or from the snowgate) up to the summit and back down again. That way they had a round trip of about 34 miles instead of the 72 that it would be otherwise (not to mention that they only climbed up to the summit once, on one side, instead of twice, up both sides).

(oh, yknow, just biking past some of the Cascade mountains–in this case, North and Middle Sister, though you can also see many others–near the summit)

We, of course, opted to ride the whole thing. Which I’m really glad we did, because the two sides of the pass feel very different. The west side is much more winding and steep, full of switchbacks that make for an amazing descent and then a very beautiful re-ascent. Plus, there’s a lovely little hike near the bottom that takes you to two waterfalls, at least one of which is called Proxy Falls (it’s the Proxy Falls trailhead, but I don’t remember if there were different names for the two waterfalls). I definitely recommend the hike. It’s only a little more than a mile, and both waterfalls are absolutely stunning: big payoff for a little effort.

The whole ride, even including time spent hiking and just hanging out at the summit, took us way less time than we thought it would, and we were back in Sisters by 4pm or so. Plenty of time for a stop at Melvin’s Fir Street Market, perhaps the cutest grocery store that ever lived. They were even nice enough to sell us individual Tofutti Cuties instead of making us buy the whole box of 8–which, in retrospect, we probably could have eaten, but I was really touched that they would be flexible in a way that no big grocery store ever would be.

(Craig and James enjoying their Tofutti Cuties with Melvin’s Market’s Tumbleweed Sam:)

We even met the old head of Cycle Oregon while we were sitting there–he stopped to ask us where we were from, why we’d come out, and if we were enjoying ourselves. Clearly he was interested in the tourist dollars being spent in his city:)

*

As usual, I have many, many pictures over on my flickr site, both of the ride and Sisters itself (go see if you can find the amazing covered wagon that somebody has in their yard, or the “hipsters welcome” crab made of bread dough:)

The pass opens to cars this year in a few days, on June 16th. But on the 15th, there’s an organized ride, the Ride for Two Rivers, to benefit the National Forest Foundation’s restoration work on the Metolius River and Whychus Creek. Just in case you want to do the ride in style and benefit some conservation projects at the same time. And of course you can ride the pass at any time, even with cars.

Get after it!:)

Perhaps you already know a lot about randonneuring (which, despite the picture, is not really done with a trailer). Perhaps you don’t. Perhaps you know a little bit.

No matter where you are on the spectrum, I’ve got two lovely Pedalpalooza events I’d love you to come to, either as an intro to, a refresher of, or just another fix for the lovely sport of Randonneuring.

1. Intro to Randonneuring Free Workshop! June 12 (Wednesday), 6:30pm, Velo Cult

This will be a happy little laid-back chat about what randoneuring is. Mostly, it’s spawned from my own experience of starting out with this crazy awesome sport and really having no idea what I was doing. Let me save you from my experience of bumbling around like an idiot. Let me explain what all those French words like “brevet,” “contrôle,” “flèche,” or “lanterne rouge” mean.

Some French-speaking, beer-drinking (if you want. It’s Velo Cult, after all:), mingling, and other exciting things are all on tap. Come hang out with me and get psyched about biking for miles and miles and miles:)

2. Randopalooza! June 15 (Saturday), 9:30am, starts at Velo Cult then heads all over town

Once you’re good and psyched about long-distance biking, this is a chance actually to test out randonneuring on either a 50k or 100k (about 30 or 60 mile) route all around Portland. I’ve been working with two lovely fellows by the name of Ed Groth and Shawn Granton to plan this ride, and Ed and I took advantage of a sunny Wednesday last week to test the 100k route. Not to give too much away, but you might see things like this:

And you might also find yourself in a place like this (which I’d never been before this ride!) :

Just don’t follow Ed’s example. Wear a helmet;)

It’s going to be an awesome ride, even if you’re already super familiar with Portland bike routes and paths. And if you’re curious about randonneuring–which is, after all, different from basically any other organized ride you’ve ever been on–it’ll be a really nice way to get a feel for it without having to commit to ridiculous numbers of miles:) Come out on Saturday!

(And if you need some more pictures to make up your mind, I have a few more preview shots of the ride here.)

I know there are twenty million things going on in life (and in Pedalpalooza, if you’re one of those people who tries to get in every single ride;), but I’d love to see you for one or both of these events. Especially the ride–get out there and get after it!

Yes!

Last week, it looked like this:

(check out that SUNSHINE!:)

Tomorrow’s weather looks to be even better than last week, so it’s sure to be a rockin’ good time. And, unlike last week when I got up all bleary-eyed and tired after having ridden the Applegate 600k over the two previous days, tomorrow I’ll actually be there sparkly, spunky, early, and with muffins!

Steel and Hawthorne bridges, 7-9am(ish). Come play! :)

Today, for example, as I was leaving work, a familiar face zoomed by. Nathan, a fellow I know from teaching Bike Club with the Community Cycling Center but who I haven’t seen forEVER, works in Hillsboro and apparently comes by the zoo on his way home. Recognizing me, he stopped, waited for me to put on my helmet and backpack, and we biked and chatted the few miles down to the river together. It was lovely to catch up, and as he went north and I south, I had a giant smile on my face, the kind you get when some random act of chance totally makes your day.

This kind of thing just doesn’t happen in a car. Sure, if someone were walking and you drove past them, I suppose you could give them a ride–but mostly what happens is that you see someone else also in a car, maybe you wave and smile, and then you both zoom off in your separate metal boxes.

After Nathan and I took our leave, I kept biking homeward and ran into yet another fellow I know, one of the masterminds behind Velodirt. “Donnie!” I yelled. He stopped; I pulled off the road to give him a hug and say hello. He was on his way somewhere and we didn’t chat for long, but it was another reminder of how nice it is to be nimble. I can easily stop my vehicle and pull it off the road should I see someone I know. Harder to do with a car, even if it is a small one.

Add to these example all the times I’ve run into someone and, if I’m not in a hurry (which I’m usually not:), can actually turn around and bike with them for a while–or any of the times when someone has asked me how to get somewhere and I can just escort them there instead of trying to break it down into directions that they probably won’t remember anyway. Or times when James and my commutes cross paths and we can sidewalk stop-n-smooch before we both head our separate ways.

I love that being on a bike makes me part of the world in this way, allows me to actually stop and interact with people instead of zooming past. Especially now, when the weather’s nice and tons of people are outside anyway, it makes for a world that seems wonderfully inviting and friend-studded, every minute a potential reminder and reinforcement of the community I’ve worked so hard to create around me.

Do any of you guys have this experience? Tell me bike stories:)

(the Salmon Street fountain and the general revelry it attracts:)

What this picture can’t show you, of course, is the sound of live music coming from the Rose Festival further down the river, or the laughter from the kids in the fountain, the cheers of the people watching some of the festival rides, the smell of food and fresh air. It’s a picture, but it doesn’t add up to the full picture.

But I love love love this season when everyone comes outside, when kids run around like maniacs, when free concerts in the parks start up, when you can go see a movie projected outside in Pioneer Square every week, when it stays light for what seems like forever and everyone shakes off any last vestiges of weather-related gloom and eats outside, says hello to neighbors on porches, tends their veggies and roses.

I’m so in love with life right now:)

I think it was a bit of a rite of passage for me, for a bunch of reasons (I thought about this while I was riding, and trust me, when you’re pedaling for 33 hours or so–not counting time spent sleeping–that’s a lot of think time:)

It was…

• The first time I’ve ever ridden 600 kilometers at a go (the furthest previous brevet I’d done being 300k)
• The first ride this long that I’ve done entirely by myself–not just riding by myself, I mean, but knowing that no one else is even on the route with me
• The first time I’ve ever overnighted somewhere on a ride, other than camping trips (I wish I’d thought to bring a toothbrush:)
• The first time where I really had to work sometimes to put out of my mind how much further I still had to go, and focus only on where I was right then

It was also, despite the fact that I rode it myself, sort of a team effort. James zip car-ed me over to my 5am start in Oregon City like a trouper (thanks, love!:). Tim from 21st Avenue Bicycles, who I met on the 3 Capes 300k, lent me a bigger saddle bag so I could carry more stuff (which I thought would be more layers but ended up mostly being more food). And Dylan, who I also met on the 3 Capes ride and who happens to live in Eugene near the overnight control not only graciously let me sleep in his extra bed for a few hours but went way beyond the call of hospitality to offer me a shower, extra clothes to sleep in, and some love from Rhino, his super sweet puppy. That kind of thing makes me supremely happy, like the world is full of friends.

(even if this person, from early in the ride, might not agree. Or know which “to” to use)

The ride itself? It was awesome. Actually, to be honest, the weather on the first day was super crappy. There was so much wind. Not like “oh, what an annoying headwind” kind of wind. More like bike-stopping, white-knuckle-on-the-handlebars, can’t-hear-a-car-until-it’s-6-inches-behind-you, wind-so-fast-you-can’t-breathe-in-your-nose kind of wind. I felt like however hard I worked, I was still moving in slow motion. And I’m not sure if it was the wind or what, but my nose would not stop bleeding. I had like 7 different nosebleeds. Pro tip: just hold your nose plugged, keep biking and it’ll go away.

Also, the intermittent downpours ensured that I spent most of the day in a state of semi-saturation (though the rain did let me “wash” my gloves, which were covered in blood from the aforementioned nosebleeds).

So all told, the weather kind of blew.

(wind and grey skies. This picture could definitely sum up my first day:)

However! The route, like every route I’ve done with the randonneurs so far, is lovely lovely lovely, full of roads I had no idea existed with amazing views that I’d never seen. I don’t really have many pictures of them, but it’s beautiful out there, especially now when everything’s still fresh and green and spring-shiny.

It also was pretty rad to bike all day, fall into bed for a few hours, and then bike all day again. I know, that may not sound awesome to all of you, but it’s something I’ve often wondered if I could actually do. It turns out that yes, I can. And that’s a good feeling. And though the weather on the second day wasn’t as amazing as I’d been led to believe it might be, at least there was less wind, and only a few rain spells. And lots of hills, some of which, I’ll be honest, seemed heinously gratuitous (and I like hills!). But all of which were beautiful.

Both days were fun for all the little Oregon cities you go through. These rides make me realize how much else there is in the world beyond my little Portland bubble, and I super enjoy seeing all the different slices of life out there.

(Silverton gets big points for having very nice public restrooms, where you don’t have to buy something to feel okay about peeing or filling your water bottles:)

I could probably spew for days about this ride (it still looms large in my mind, perhaps because it was full of so many firsts), but maybe I’ll save it for other potential posts. Though I will say that if you do this ride, keep your eyes open. I saw tons of wildlife, ranging from elk and deer to so many different kinds of raptors and little birds (and a mink–holy schmoly!), even a huge white owl that swooshed its silent owl-swoosh over my head as I closed in on Eugene. And I saw an amazing shooting star, at a point where I was feeling particularly annoyed that I was still not to Eugene yet. It’s such a beautiful ride.

I’ll be working at the start registration tomorrow, so perhaps I’ll see some of you there:) It’s going to be awesome:)

UPDATE: I got some pictures up finally! Check them here if you’re interested. Like I said, not very many, and not very photogenic due to grey, grey skies:)

True, when I was little my parents did an excellent job surrounding me with books and magazines and movies of substance, where people trafficked in ideas and critical thought rather than weight loss tips and ads for perfect makeup. But when you’re young and you have friends and you’re trying to find your place in the world, of course you start to wonder if it would all be easier if you looked and acted like the people on the covers of those magazines that your parents won’t buy for you. And though now I would never look at a People’s magazine (or whatever) and consciously say “Wow, I wish I looked like that woman,” or “I bet that woman has a way better life than I do,” I know that implicitly, some damage has been done.

It’s in the sneaky way I sometimes wonder if I could be more “fit” (i.e. more thin, the world’s worst association), or the way I wonder if I would be more beautiful if I shaved my legs again. Or the fact that I even think at all that it’s worthwhile to be more beautiful, as though physical beauty itself were a laudable life’s goal.

It’s in the way I sometimes start to measure myself up against other women, either real or imagined, as though there were actually some sort of competition. There isn’t.

But I do have a secret weapon against this sort of bullshit. And that secret weapon is activity. When I am running, when I am biking, when I’m walking through this world, when I can breathe deeply and feel my muscles working flawlessly beneath me, that is perfection. When I can power myself up a hill, my lungs gasping triumphantly at the top, that is beauty. When I feel healthy and capable and strong, I know that I’m just fine, and I don’t need a mirror or the consensus of a whole narrowly-defined-beauty-obsessed society to tell me whether it agrees.

That is what we should talk about instead of body image. A body is not merely something to look at, to be admired. It’s not a static image. It’s something that allows you to be in the world, to travel through the world, to experience and create. It’s something designed to respond perfectly to what you need it to do. It’s meant to do, not simply to be. And when you’re doing, moving, creating, there’s no time and no need to wonder about what you look like.

Whenever I forget this and find myself slipping into gloom about looks, I remember that I need to hop on my bike or pull on my running shoes and reset my conception of what actually matters. This is my secret weapon and my response to superficiality. Move. Do. Pump my legs until they scream, breathe hard, walk through the park and remind myself of all the natural beauty in the world, fall into bed exhausted at the end of a day well spent on what I love.

The antidote to worrying about being beautiful? Being alive.