Jackasses still breed
We were on our way to yet another lazy, rocky beach afternoon in the sun on Lopez Island when my friend and I stopped at the local bike "shack" to get her a new water bottle. The shack was set back off the road with a wide lawn in front of it. There were about two dozen hybrid and beach bikes for rent on the lawn, neatly stacked into rows in their bike racks. Two lazy looking fellows whom I immediately dubbed Daryl and Daryl were laughing at each other as one Daryl rode a beach bike in circles around the other Daryl. A straw sun hat adorned his head, he only needed a set of overalls and chew in his cheek to complete the outfit. "Oh boy," I thought. "Let the merriment begin." Just walking across the lawn with Rosemary, I knew I'd be in for some sort of needless attention. In the city, fixies aren't given much of a second glance, but here in the hilly boonies, she'd be looked upon as a pink freak, and I as the mother of such mutant spawn.
I leaned Rosemary up again one of the bike racks and followed my friend into the shack. She picked up a clear water bottle and paid for it. The owner asked us, "Do you know what the picture is on the bottle?" We tried to analyze the black spotted graphic, but came up empty. "Um, the earth?" we asked. Not like we really cared. "Nah! It's the San Juan Islands!" he shot back, amusing himself that he stumped yet another set of stupid tourists come to patronize his island. Whatever, we thought, as we walked down the shack's ramp out to our bikes.
As I pulled Rosemary away from the rack, thinking I was getting away from idiotic conversation about my bike, one of the Daryls asked, "Hey is that is singlespeed bike? You riding that thing around here?"
"Yes, I am."
"Ooooooh, well that'd be something if it was one of those fixed bikes, ya know," the one Daryl said to the other laughingly.
"She is.....fixed," I sharply noted as I lifted Rosemary's back end and kicked her left pedal to set the crankset in smooth fixed motion.
"No way!! You're crazy! You riding that thing around here in these hills. What kind of gearing you have? You done Mt. Constitution? hahahaha yeah you done Mt. Constitution on that thing? You got extra cogs in that there bag? hahahaha yeah you better have a whole bunch of extra cogs to change so you can do these hills."
"No, I just have one. That's all I need and I've been doing just fine with it, thankyouverymuch."
I was tired of their existence after their first words, of their personal inabilities projected onto me. Their mocking of Rosemary and me taking her on this trip raised my heart rate more than a few points, but I knew they weren't worth the conversation and I just answered that Mt. Constitution is one of my goals and I'd like to do it on her, but we didn't have time for it on this trip.
At that point, the owner came back out from his shop when he heard the conversation going somewhere other than where to eat or how do I work this beach bike. He came over to us and dropped down on one knee and examined Rosemary like a horse, picking up her rear end to check out her dropouts and hub, asking questions while feeling over the steel and rolling the wheel. "What kind of gearing do you have? Do you race? Really? At Marymoor, huh. Well good for you. You must be a really strong rider to be taking this bike around the islands."
At that point I was tiring of the freak show and started to turn Rosemary toward the road, when my friend commented on his last remark:
"Yes, she is strong. She's a very strong rider."
And with that we left Lopez Island's Daryl, Daryl, and Daryl and went on our way to the beach. And I rocked up a few hills extra hard just because they can't.
Forty white bikes were chained to lamp posts and street signs around Seattle in the wee morning hours this week to represent locations where cyclists have been struck by cars. 
I finally caught up with my dear friend, "Unkle Kenny", who had a baby girl with his s.o. on May 12, 2005. This little girl doens't know it yet, but her daddy is one of the sweetest, most caring humans on this earth. Beneath his rockstar, climbing bum, Rollins-from-Jersey venir is a rare, honest guy who will stay true to his word and stick by his friends and family for years on end. Once you've known Ken you've known him for life. He makes you feel safe, he makes you feel confident, he tells you the truth when you need to hear it. He is one of the few people left who defines the word "altruism". He has given so much to all those around him and asks nothing back because he receives so much just in the experience. This little girl should know that she can trust her daddy with anything and that he will never leave her side. She can tell him her secrets and cry on his shoulder and look forward to becoming a strong, independent woman under his guidance. Congratulations Unkle Kenny and Angie and Maddie "Boo Boo". I wish you all the happiness in the world. :)
My girlfriends and I have had quite a few monkey wrenches thrown into our lives this summer. Layoffs, dumpages, questionable directions, questionable assertiveness. When we each lie awake at night trying to fall asleep, anxiety keeps us from moving into another day of unpleasantness, but the one thing we can count on is that we are not alone. Perhaps physically we are, but not in life. We each have one other as sisters to lean on through these trials: phone calls, marathon emails, dinners, sleepovers, bike rides, shopping therapy, short walks.
(twilight at 10 p.m. anyone?), especially on the weekends when we can leave everything behind and focus on ourselves. Challenging and exploratory bike rides have been the most common theme. Picking a page out of a book or throwing a dart onto a map or emailing a newspaper article about an interesting location have proven quite rewarding ventures. So far they’ve taken us to several new destinations. We mountain biked up abandoned logging roads into the Cascades surrounded by the mountains we’ve hiked and climbed. 
Looking up at the peaks we know so intimately, we feel them smiling down at us, proud of our strength and spirit for life. We’ve glided down freshly paved Rails-to-Trails into the heart of pastoral Washington, the trail overhung with big leaf maples or lined with daisies sprouting out from farmers’ fields. We discovered this new pursuit called track racing and the thrill of powering on a banked surface, all muscle and speed. We hiked along the skirt of our beloved mother Mt. Rainier, reveling in her wildflower display in a magnificent summer afternoon, all smiles and blue skies and meadows waiting for Monet’s brush. During the work day (working, really) we plan our 8 day bike trip to the San Juans and Vancouver Island.
blue skies, smooth pavement, endless hills, wide berms, few cars, coastal views of bays and the Sound, an hour lounging on beach logs in the sun at Fort Ebey State Park, and best of all the wonderful sense of accomplishment when we got back to the cars. For me, I found how strong I really am by doing all 43 miles and +2000 ft of climbing on Rosemary (we think she sabotaged the wheel on my road bike). It epitomized the phrase, “You never know what you can do until you try.” Each girl met her own challenge and ended the ride with a huge smile. Afterwards, we returned to a beach along the road to gorge on picnic goodies like rosemary bread, goat cheddar and brie, freshly picked blackberries and grapes, tortilla chips and guacamole, Rainier cherries, and dark chocolate. As we put down the blankets and spread, I said out loud, “We really are living a good life.” With that, we three girlfriends sat on the dark sandy beach of Puget Sound and watched the small boats on the water and the clouds above the Olympics, feeling how truly lucky we are to be who we are and have all that we do. All the men, jobs, and bosses can never take away what we do for ourselves, and what we do for each other.
Riding home. Twilight. Just me, Rosemary, and the path ahead, rolling towards the setting sun. When I was younger and lived out east, I would always look towards the setting sun and think how lucky the people were who lived anywhere farther west than me. I always imagined that they were doing something fun and adventurous with the remaining hours of the their day while at the same time the rest of us out east had to retreat indoors for our geographic penance. There always seemed to be an unfairness to living where I did, because I didn't want to go to bed while other people were still up playing, even if they were 3000 miles away. The people out west seemed free of curfew, like kids whose parents would let them stay up past dark catching fireflies. Living. Not toiling, waiting for the next day. I felt like I was missing out on something - on living - because of where I grew up. That feeling stayed with me into my teens and college, always watching where the sun was setting, wondering what I was missing by not being there right now.
Rosemary made yet another addition to her fan club today. We were running errands and stopped at the Barnes & Noble in U-Village. When I came back out to saddle up, I heard a voice saying, "Hey bike woman! Bike woman wait I need to talk to you!". I had no idea if the voice was talking to me until this 20-something chick walks up to me and Rosemary. She said, "I saw your bike and I have to tell you how awesome it is! It's totally macked out. You did a really good job with it. I just finshed building up a fixed gear..." yaddayaddayadda something about a Fuji. The sun was glaring in my eyes and I didn't hear everything she said. I was hot and dehydrated, but certainly appreciated her admiration of Rosemary. She asked if I had any other bikes and I made some short conversation. I said thank you again and we said so long and she sauntered off to the pizza shop. I really did appreciate the gesture this girl made. The odd little surprises, the random kindness of strangers, that happen during a day really make me smile. They break me out of my bubble of discontent. I threw my leg over Rosemary and I could tell she was happy too.
And then there's that picture of her from Outside magazine a few years ago. I LOVE that picture. The strength, the beauty, the love of a girl and her bike. That butt tatoo from her Single Speed World Championship. It's all there. I printed it out and plastered it on my refrigerator. I could look like that. Some day.