Bike lanes

Maddie and I were riding up Rockwood Blvd towards SE Blvd yesterday. We were sort of in and out of those weird ambiguous lines painted for parking but that sort of look like bike lanes.

I explained to Maddie that they weren't actually bike lanes.

A few minutes later when we turned on to SE Blvd, she said, "Now these are bike lanes...they're super narrow and filled with trash."

Bingo.

River opening '14 and a few bikey things

Rolling the trike on the river road. That trike belonged to my Grandfather. He used to ride it on the MUP in Long Beach. When he died, that trike is pretty much all my dad wanted to get. And he drove down there and got it.

Gotta roast the inaugural marshmallows of the year.

She incinerates them just like I used to. Mine is on the right. It took about 30 years to figure out  the patience part of that deal. And once I did, I sort of lost my taste for marshmallows. 

Sunset. Air guitar. Truck. Fat bike. Make a mental note of that basket.

Me. My dad in the background... under that slab.

First time driving. She only killed it once. But she only stayed in first gear.

More river road.

The Spider bike is going away... giving it to a friend. It was a good fit for the river, but pretty limited in its 2-speed range. So I'm going to bring up an old mountain bike. Actually, this summer, I'll be rocking the SH-80 up there. 

But the basket wasn't included. It now lives on the Kogswell. I dig it.

I dropped the Roast House mug off at Pat's. And he had three cases of Buffalo Chicken MRE's (aka "chicken shits" -- Andre's nomenclature) -- the best dehydrated food ever that has been -- on his porch. He's cooking up, figuring, and planning something for sure.

Monster tail winds

The last two days the commute has been great. I've felt STRONG and FAST.

Turns out there's just a huge friggin' tailwind.

Whatevs.

Righteous Lyons. After a thorough rain washing on the front of the bus. Rode it home. Then washed it again on the bus. Then rode it home today: that is one loud-ass, squeaky, chain situation.

Kent P shadow photo.

Jon. He called me up outta the blue and wanted to have lunch today. He jumped on the bus and came out to Cheney. We rode home with a MONSTER tail wind on the FLT.

That captures the purple pretty well. Jon wanted a darker more "midnight" purple, but I dig this one. And really... isn't that all that *really* matters?

More Lyons. Fred calls that tape design, "Unicorn Puke," which I think of everytime I ride this bike. And that makes me happy.

Yep. That car is rad. but see the tiny point of the top of Jon's helmet? That's the point of this pic.

Dust. Big trucks. The best food-like product ever. And the bike swap. In reverse order.

Glen (nose and arm pictured, far right), Matt (not pictured), Justin, Pat, and I (not pictured) hung out at the Spokane Bike Swap last weekend. It's always rad hanging with these guys, but I'm thinking we need to figure out a different plan for the swap next year: one that only involves one day. 

This is it. My desert island food. Good god. Mother of pearl. Just f'ing buy some and eat it. Mrs. Renfro's Ghost Pepper Nacho Cheese Sauce. The review: it's hot fat. And it's sublime in its fatty sweety cheesy heat. 

Two halves of an Elephant. Glen is bullish on the Ritchey coupler system. He likes smart shit that performs well and is a good value. Hard to argue with that. I think I still prefer S&S for its compactness, though from anecdotal accounts, it sounds like airlines don't measure luggage anymore, they just charge you if you have it. In that case, the benefit of the 26 x 26 x 10 case of the S&S may not matter anymore.

This dude was rad. He's in a monster semi-truck and to keep the dust at bay, he made a point of slowing way, way down about 1/4 of a mile back from me. I'd say he passed me at about 10-15 mph. This was on my commute home from EWU yesterday. I've noticed that in these parts, most folks don't make this kind of effort to reduce the dust when they pass you. In Ferry County -- I've noticed that pretty much everyone makes an effort. That makes sense to me. In Ferry County I don't think bicyclists represent the urban/suburban/exurban encroachment on the rural lifestyle that we seem to represent around here. That's a theory I developed when I was an exurbanite in Duvall over a decade ago, where the drivers were homicidal in the way they shaved your arm hairs as they squeezed past you in their SUVs on two-lane roads at 65 MPH.

Dust.

Lake. Well... probably a pond, technically speaking.

Antoine Peak

Pat, Glen, and I rode around Antoine Peak today.

Of the 2 hours we were out, I'd say that about 4 minutes of it were spent descending. 

All the rest was climb. But I may be exaggerating.

But not much. Check out Glen's Strava track of the route.

I think I'm gonna put some SPD's on the Pugsley. My hips were killing me by the end of the ride. 

Yes. It's come to this. This will be "sleep" mode. More to come.

We saw a young moose at the top. He didn't care much that we were there.

The tree that ruined this post