Rewards of going outside

I've gotten in the habit on Sundays to sleep in as much as possible, drink as much coffee as possible, stay on the couch reading the paper as long as possible, and generally be as lazy as humanly possible. My one goal is to kick myself out of the house and go to the gym for a long workout unrestricted by a busy workday schedule.

This morning I gloated a bit as I watched the rain pour buckets outside and I thought of the other girls going on a bike ride at 9 a.m. Ha! I'm inside, being lazy, eating a stack of hot pancakes, and cozy warm in my pjs. A few hours later it was time for my trip to the gym. I pulled on my fancy Patagucci water-resistant climbing pants, my big yellow rain jacket, and got my backpack ready for the urban hike. I made it out the front door of my building and the top of the stairs and stopped. It was pouring buckets. It was cold, or at least much colder than my cozy home. For 5 long seconds I stood there and listened to my jeep call my name. "Drive me.....you'll be warm and dry....turn around, go to the carport and drive me to the gym....you don't want to go out there....it's wet and cold.....drive drive drive...."

I shook my head to clear it of the evil talk and looked at the thousands of raindrops plopping on the surface of our swimming pool. "Fuck that," I told myself. "I'm going for a walk. There's always something new to see when you go for a walk outside, something special that people in a car never get to experience. It's the reward for going outside."

With that I continued down the steps and out the front gate. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something on the side of the building. I looked up and saw a kid's colorful mylar balloon somehow stuck on the exterior, gently bobbing back and forth in the rain. Haha! My first reward for going outside, an interesting sight otherwise missed. A mylar balloon that a great blue heron will probably ingest and painfully starve over a week or more, but an interesting reward nonetheless.

Up over the big hill and into the suburbia of Magnolia. The wind was strong from the south, but I was warm and dry in my urban outer wear. I made note of all the leaves still holding fast to their branches. It seems so late in the season for the leaves to still be around, but I'm all for it because that means less grayness until the cherry blossoms bloom in 3 months. Suddenly a hard gust blows in my face and a mass of yellow and orange Japanese maples leaves blows in my face. Their tree is shaking in the wind and releasing all those leaves I marveled at just seconds ago. With the hoard of leaves and raindrops blowing into my face and zipping by I pretend I'm in the Millennium Falcon with Han accelerating us to light speed.

Further down the hill I notice all the crows playing in the wind. One of them darts quickly around in the air and he catches a leaf like its prey, but quickly lets go when he finds it unappetizing. Other crows sit in gangs of 2 or 3 on powerlines with their heads into the wind. I imagine them gossiping or talking about the Seahawks game. Passing by Albersons there is a larger gang of 8 crows cawing at some mashed pieces of pumpkin in the street. One of the crows jumps on a fire hydrant and caws out the loudest. King of the Fire Hydrant. I bet he still has to share the pumpkin.

I go to the gym and do my thing and when I'm done the rain has stopped outside. I head back home and take in more sweet rewards. Another big Japanese maple full of colorful leaves. The Olympics looking like a ghostly apparition through the clouds. A fat gray squirrel sharing another smashed pumpkin with some different crows, he sits on the curb nibbling on the seeds. I warn him to stay out of the street and away from cars. I get back home and couldn't be happier about going outside.

Cedar River Trail team ride

Our team ride today started in the fine town of Renton. We did the Cedar River Trail, which is a lovely flat, paved, mixed use trail that follows the - you got it - Cedar River. Kele joined us and as we rode in a double paceline she coached us through a variety of drills to get us riding more smoothly and more confidently in a pack. First it was just bunching together and getting used to being a few inches from our buddy and the person in front of us. I'm finding that I really need to work on the paceline thing because I'm so independent I've lagged on riding smoothly behind someone's wheel. I can stick on a wheel comfortably, but when the speed slows I tap my brakes and the person behind me chirps "breaking" and it messes up the paceline. I'm supposed to keep spinning, albeit slowly, that doesn't seem to screw up the people behind me. Did better today than last week.

Kele then had us do some one-legged spinning drills. I've always heard of these, but being perfect [cough], I've never seen a reason to do them. I know I spin well. I've been tested and my legs show an even, powerful energy transfer. Who needs silly drills? Everyone! With my right foot unclipped, my left leg showed almost immediate weakness in its spin. After only a dozen pedal strokes it left a "hop" in the rotation, which indicates uneven pedaling. Crap. My right leg, however, was much smoother and only developed a "hop" after 30 or so strokes. Kele pointed out that once we felt that "hop" to stop pedaling with that leg because your core starts to overcompensate and makes you even more out of whack.

Then we did no-handed riding which wasn't particularly challenging. When I was sick this summer and too stubborn not to ride, I'd make myself ride Rosemary all the way home from Sandpoint with no hands. It would force me to go slow and not exert myself, but entertain me enough with improving my balance and skills. I never got good enough to stop at an intersection with a no-handed track stand, but I could navigate bumps and varied terrain really well.

The most fun drill Kele had us do was to practice moving through the pack. One at a time we'd start at the back and pry our way through the middle of the double paceline. It was a game of waiting for the right opportunity to sneak between two girls and quick reflexes and timing to charge through. Everyone had a blast doing it and agreed this was the most valuable and something to do again and again. Evidently this is the way Mason Lake is for the entire race. Good think my frame is steel.

The ride out and back was only about 20 miles so 5 of us went back out for another hour to get some more miles in. The morning was a beautiful and dry, a perfect fall day with peeks of Rainier coated in fresh snow. The Cedar River was high and fast, although well within its banks. There were a number of cute small houses along its shore and it seemed that weren't damaged by last week's flooding. Their yards were full of typical rural belongings like lawn tractors and lawn ornaments. Maybe the river didn't get that high? Seems improbable given the destruction everywhere else. At one bridge crossing we saw a team of Search and Rescue and firemen working along the riverbank below. I initially thought they were out doing Saturday morning drills too, but someone else thought given the number of vehicles they were out for search and recovery. Somber.

And if anyone is still reading this boring training entry, you've made it to the part where I sing the joys of being bonded-less in the winter. Yes, Denny, the girls are free and it's the highlight of my day. No extra Houdini-style layer of lycra, just the natural feel of skin on a tight, warm base layer. Heaven. It's like the release of ripping off your work clothes and putting on your jammies to get ready for bed, but better, because you're going on a bike ride!

Some girls are going on another ride in the morning, but Sunday is my designated sleep in day. Mass amounts of sleep has been the #1 remedy for my low energy (ok, #2....but I'm out of Vitamin Z!) so I embrace it whenever I can. I'll go to the gym later and meet with Kele tomorrow night to go over my training. Over the next few days I gotta save my energy for the 2nd Annual Ride for the Pies on Thanksgiving. 45 miles followed by mass amounts of pie and other Tday goodies and obligatory naps. I wish my Z could be here for it this year, but I know we'll have much more together later.

Dry pavement

I almost choked when I looked out my window this morning and saw the sky. Not just "the sky," but the entire blue, cloudless, rain free sky. Riding to work felt like being in the eye of a hurricane. Too calm. Too perfect. A moment of peace between the swirling storms. Looking upwards, I was reminded of the movie 2010 when Jupiter became the newest sun in the sky. It felt great, but...not quite normal.

Ironically, the papers today reported that this is the wettest November on record and we're only half-way through.

A night with the green blob

At REI tonight I met Mary, Janna, and Rhi to see a talk called "Adventure Divas." We were pulled in because one of the topics was going to be traveling in India. I've never been a fan of the moniker "diva" because it brings to mind the high maintenance, self absorbed lives of Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, and J. Lo. Would adventure divas live up to such company? Turns out they don't, which is quite a relief. The woman who organized this group used to be an editor for the adventure woman-friendly publisher Seal Press. Tired of sitting behind a desk and not reaching out to as many women she knew were out there, she and some others put together a t.v. pilot documentary about the unsung women heroines in Cuba. Once that was picked up by PBS, they continued around the world finding other women who met their strong definition of "diva" by bucking traditional male roles and leading by their own example for the better of humankind.

One of the women they profiled tonight was Kiran Bedi, who is the highest ranking police officer in India. She managed to transform the way prisoners are treated as well as how officers are trained in their forces. Her secret? Bringing yoga, mediation, and a heavy dose of humanity to their lives. She is loved by all who work with her and who meet her. She's won several Indian and humanitarian awards. Her presence is magnetic. A diva? Not in my book. A remarkable woman and role model? Absolutely.

As for the big green blob that waited for me on my ride to REI, it turned out to be a friendly beast, oft misunderstood and lonely for companionship. We spit back at the drizzly rain and laughed at the gusts of wind straight out of the south that slowed us to a crawl up Eastlake. Most importantly I was warm and dry in my polypro, wool, and rain pants and jacket and goretex socks. The secret to wet winter enjoyment is staying warm and dry in your foul weather suit of choice. It rained and gusted the whole way, but being dry and cozy made passing all the drivers that much more enjoyable. While they listened to the traffic and weather reports full of dread, I pedaled smoothly past them and contemplated a hundred thoughts that were free in my mind.

The big green blob

I've been watching this great big green blob move over the area for the past hour and it looks like I won't escape it on the way up to REI tonight after work. At least the small yellow blob stayed south. I'm ready for this weather to end, although it will still be better spinning easily on a bike than stuck in a car in traffic.

A great cedar has fallen

Northwest icon Harvey Manning passed away this weekend at 81 years. Without Harvey, those of us who set out in wool socks, nylon backpacks, and freeze-dried food would not have trees to walk under or icy glacial lakes to dip in. The bears and the fox and the fat bushes of blueberries would have disintegrated under the greedy eyes of loggers and developers years ago. It takes a crotchety old soul like Harvey to move mountains, but he only moved them as far as our backdoor. Thank you for all your did for the woods, Harvey. Rest in peace.

A very productive day

Today was an above-average day for a gov't contractor. I spent most of my day surfing the Center for Disease Control and King County Health Dept websites learning about what shots I'll need for my trip to India. That led to calling around to find out exactly how much being immunized for 5 weeks is going to cost me. I had visions of standing in front of the KC Health Dept downtown on 4th Ave with a bunch of Seattle's finest looking for their free condoms and clean needles. I remembered that a worker was stabbed there a few months ago by a patient so I continued to scroll down the page in search of other options. Bothell! Haha! It takes effort to get to Bothell so I surmised I might have a more pleasant, safer experience there and could even fit in a bike ride! I talked to a helpful travel clinic nurse on the phone who listed the prices for the shots the CDC suggests I get:

Hep A - $34/shot, series of 2

Hep B - $37/shot, series of 3

Typhoid - $40
Malaria pills - probably around $25
Clinic visit - $50

The prices were about what I expected, but being the stingy, stubborn person I am at the time I called around to some other clinics to price shop. The UW has a well known travel clinic so I talked to a nurse there. I stumbled over her prices to ask her to repeat them a second time:

HepA - $62.50/shot, series of 2

HepB - $80.25/shot, series of 3

Typhoid - $118
Clinic visit - $46

Ummmmm yeah. Pay more for the same shots at a closer location or brave the bike trail up to Bothell for the discount version. I'll take my chances on the trail. Lt. Sean has offered to splash my face with some cheap beer should he find me passed out on the trail on his way home from work.

As for the other productive parts of my day, that was filled with my coworker scanning the Turns-All-Year website checking out all the turns people have been catching the past few months in anticipation of this week's major dumpage. As happens in the exponentially tangential world of the internet, she came across some simply awesome photos of the damage down at Mt. Rainier from last week's Pineapple Express storm. Rainier recorded 18" of rain in 36 hours. When you pour that kind of volume down some very narrow glacial channels it turns into some mighty forceful torrents that take out everything in its path and carve out some news ones like reckless 12 year olds with firehoses.

This one was the Sunshine Point Campground, which I always coveted as the most precious outhouse I've ever seen, at least since leaving Seattle 2 hours ago and chugging 2 liters of water. Now Sunshine Point is more like An Outhouse Used To Stand Here Point because it's completely gone:

We had our monthly Team Caffeine meeting tonight. I'm loving this team so much. Every meeting and team ride brings us closer together as a group of sisters powering around on bikes. The energy we're building will be an awesome sight come race time. We also have the privilege of a local pro racer being our team "resident pro" to help us with coaching and skills clinics. She's super humble and already has a wonderful rapport with the team from last year. She's going to focus on track this year, so I'm hoping to get with her for some basic coaching strategy to keep me out of trouble.

In more somber, humble news, word was passed around today that our former manager Ellen passed away this morning, succumbing to the brain tumor that she's bravely battled for 4 1/2 years. Ellen was only a few years older than me and leaves behind a two very strong teenage girls and a husband who "is a better man having loved such a remarkable woman." Ellen was incredibly bright intellectually and socially. She always had a cheerful smile on her face as she made her rounds around the office to see how everyone's day was going. She loved computers and problem solving, which she brought into her fight with this cancer. She read all the journals and analyzed all the possibilities and statistics and continually had a smile of hope on her face. When going through chemo and radiation she'd model a new hat almost every week. A few months ago she was selected for experimental treatment on the east coast where she would be given medication that cost $25k/month, but with the trial it would be for free. After only a few trips, the doctors pulled her from the trial because it wasn't working. This was a sign that there wasn't much else anyone could do. She quickly weakened after this point. One of the last gifts collected for her was a trip to a day spa so that she and her girls could get their toes painted.

Ellen was the one who hired me for my job, who called me for a phone interview in my GIS lab as my stupid labmates made faces and noises behind my back. She was easy going and open and always made helping others a joy in her life. Thanks for being such a special person in this world Ellen, and bless your husband and girls in their days ahead. You'll always be here with us.

The art of Eric Carle

Remember when a day was all about sitting in your mom's lap looking at a big, bright, colorful book about animals? The very hungry catepillar and his friends are having an exhibit down at the Tacoma Art Museum!
P-I article on the show

Cool slideshow on his work

Official Eric Carle website

Grey Paint Sucks!

A kindred spirit put this up on the naked grey wall of the Ballard Bridge last week. At first I thought it was lovingly painted on in relief form, but upon closer inspection it's some kind of large plastic decal with some wrinkles in it. Still, it's glorious and bright and beautiful and a shock of sunshine against the sad grey wall in my neighborhood.

Camel kisses

I can't wait to go on a camel trek in India with my desert prince in January!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We plan to spend over a week checking out the state of Rajasthan in northeastern India. This area is known as the Great Indian (Thar) Desert and a popular place for tourons to visit:



The ancient, fortressed city of Jaisalmer was once on the great trade route to the Orient, and is now the center of modern desert adventures (photo by Dey):



My camel will be my new best friend. Forget bikes, camels give kisses!

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....

Turning the clocks back is a more significant sign of winter's arrival than anything nature could invent. It's darker. It's colder. You want to stay in your jammies all day and not pierce the insulated skin of your new double-paned windows. In fact, that's just about how my day went, except for venturing out to get a few more volumes of Lost's first season (What happened to Clare??? Don't tell me!!). Another sign was dashing out my back door to bring my precious jade plants in for the winter. They had a very productive summer outside and have grown significantly. Now it's time to lay low and watch the days tick by until that spring equinox breaches the horizon again.

I have to give big props to Suzanne who drove up to Snohomish for another installation of the Seattle Cyclocross Series. While I was enjoying the extra hour of sleep in my flannel pjs she was out there warming up in the rain and MUD and exhibiting extreme fortitude. I hoist my hot cocoa to thee, Suzanne!

Last night Rhi, Ashley, Davis and I did the Messmanless Messquarade race. Our team was Heff and the Bunnies, complete with smoking jacket, pipe, bunny tails, bunny ears, and a big blue tandem dinosaur. Rhi and Ashley put on the Bunny charm and snagged us a huge pumpkin from Mama's Mexican Kitchen in Belltown. That was worth extra points and brought us up to 3rd place overall. Bunny Power!

On Thursday I was thinking about getting out and overnighting somewhere in the hills, but saw that a cold front was moving through Sat night and thought better of it. Good call. Today so much snow fell @ Snoqualmie Pass that the DOT had to shut down the Pass eastbound and westbound for a few hours. Sometimes listening to myself pays off.

Now it's on to November, my least favorite month of the year, although it was made quite tolerable last year thanks to my favorite bearded fellow. Only 2 months til I land in India. Save some stars for me!

Anniversary Limerick

It was this time last year
I met someone quite dear
On my first ride, it was Seatac
Not knowing it was magic
That love grows from bikes and beer.

Last Halloween I was a nun
Racing around town was great fun
A masked man on our team
Cleverly planning his scheme
To learn if this girl was the one

We had both done a bike tour
Which led to talking much more
On this second night that we met
He said "Let's go to Tibet"
Of him in my life I could not be more sure

Now a post-doc he's far away
But we're in touch every day
This year will be a blip
With the help of a long trip
If he finds me a pink sari I might stay!

All hike, no bike

I've been feeling extremely burned out with bikes this month. Sometimes a person just needs a break from something so consuming in one's life. So the past few weeks I've put on my trail shoes and headed out to the woods. The first hike was just up Tiger Mountain, about 5 miles round trip and 2500ft gain. Back when I was really nuts, I used to hike Tiger twice, back to back, up the really steep trails, with about 40# in my pack. That, I felt, was an adequate workout. Now that I've come to my senses a bit more I merely head out to hike when it's pouring buckets of rain instead. Soaked all the way through so my feet sloshed as I plod along, I still had a smile on my face. The ferns were there. And lots of trees. One banana slug. And quiet. Lots of quiet. There was the physical quiet: No cars, no traffic, no city buzz. And then there was the mental quiet: No defensive riding, no heightened senses ready to make you spring, no wondering if I could push a bigger gear, no self-admonishing for not racing all the CX races this year. It was good to be in a different environment where I could take a break from.....myself.

This weekend's weather promised to be the one fall weekend to remember all year. The leaves were at their most brilliant, the skies were clear, and the sun warmed the earth up just enough for us to think winter might not come this year. So Mary, Izzy, and I met at the Alpental parking lot for an easy hike up to Source Lake through the Denny Creek drainage. It's by far one of the most popular day hikes around, which is probably why I managed to avoid it all these years, but this day the trail called to me. I'd been up the drainage a few times in the winter and today I wanted to see what it looked like in its fall glory. The parking lot was packed and people strolled around in the bright sun, either coming back or leaving for the trail. I actually enjoyed seeing and chatting with all the people. Something about being around all these people who shared the same energy for a beautiful day. There were old people, young people, buff people, and every kind of ordinary people. Even 2 wiener dogs with the fastest little legs you've ever seen.

The trail was far more lovely than I'd imagined. For such a high use area, the trail managed to appear new and well kept, unlike other high use trails like Tiger or Si where the path seems as worn and ugly as pavement. We didn't have to go far to find the reddest of maples beneath the bluest of skies.



The ferns at the foot of the maples were turning a noble shade of brown, getting ready for their own long, cold sleep. We passed through a few small streams and Izzy dunked her head down to take some long sips. Mary and I looked up at the peaks and recalled traverses up Pineapple Pass to the Tooth and other backcountry marathon tales. They weren't even that long ago! Why does it seem that all that energy has escaped us? It's like we've aged 30 years in 3.

After a few miles we finally we reached the rocky hillside overlooking Source Lake. What a wonderful view! A long drainage full of evergreens and spotted with red and yellow trees and a small lake complementing the scene like a fine jewel.



We pulled out our lunches and enjoyed the bright afternoon sun. Mary managed to spot 4 climbers coming down from Guye Peak so we watched them pick their way down "the obvious descent gully" which was a long rocky gully and onto an equally rocky boulder field. No my knees don't miss that a bit.

The sun started its descent over the western peaks and left us in a cold shadow, so we took that as a sign to get back in the sun and down the trail. Izzy led the way and insisted on combing through the blueberry bushes to find anything the bears may have left.



At one point I turned around to see the valley we had just left and saw this:



It appeared like a magical green kingdom whose tree limbed doors we were about to close. I imagined coming back to the mountains on a weekend like this and climbing up higher and deeper into the backcountry and staying for days. Just me and my man and the treasures around us. For now I'll close my eyes and imagine it, and wait until we can be there together.

Rosemary update

Got Rosemary back from the doctor this week. His diagnosis: 4 degrees off in geometry. Drats to his perfection! He had to go and get the old Bridgestone catalogs and measure every angle to see where she sits. I stared at him with big, concerned, motherly eyes and a lump in my throat and asked "Is she still ridable??" He nodded confidently, but with the caveat that she'd be built more as a chopper. "So I can still ride her?" Optimism quickly grew in my voice. He shook his head 'yes' again and said I'd need to get new forks with a higher rake to offset her new geometry. He assured me that this wasn't a catastrophic failure event, so I grabbed my little girl and took her home before the doctor could change his mind.

A new fork. That's do-able! I can get a new fork. I can ride her again. Not for 100 miles, but that's ok....just around town and to work and a few lazy days in the sun. My little girl has a chance at living again.

But not yet. Mama's got a few other financial issues to deal with. So for now she's kanoodling in the corner with Freki. They look quite happy there together and I wouldn't want to disturb them just yet. It'll be time to wake her up again soon enough.

Take me now

Something super special came in the mail this week:



My tickets to see my Sweetness in India this winter! I'll have 5 weeks to sleep in, nuzzle, ramble around, feed cookies to a dog named Stumpy, savor new smells and sounds, absorb a new culture, see old constellation friends, ride a few camels, and climb out of my shell that I've been nesting in far too long.

The great big towel

Admitting weakness. This is the hardest part. You're supposed to be invincible, mind over matter. You try and it doesn't work. You try again and it really doesn't work. Your body tries to whisper and you turn up the music. No. Never. Knock it off. When is it in your best interest to throw in the towel? Before disaster strikes again? Before it's too late and you're deep in the hole for 3 more months? Or do you wake up with clear mind and have another go, refusing to admit what your body yearns for you to hear?

I'm so torn. So stubbornly torn. On one hand I'm not a quitter and stronger than oak, but on the other hand I've been so humbled and shown the muddy puddle to lie in, that I don't want to go back there.

But...but...but...

I wish I could wake up and be invincible again. The strategist in me might have to admit it's not this year and let the others have their turn. Save the power for another chance in the sun. The gluttonous part of me wants it all again right now. Mine.

Or not.

I think I need a little Sinead louder than bombs to clear my head.



Ah yes. MUCH better. But the towel is still gripped in my hands.

Science!!

This amazing computer animation of cellular activity makes me feel like I went to school 200 years ago, back when they used Tinker Toys to explain DNA. What are kids studying these days? So rad.

It also makes me wonder what kind of happy dance my cells do after I eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

Cellular Visions: The Inner Life of a Cell

My little girl

pink bike full of life
craves full attention from mom
jealously weaves spell

autumn sun so warm
driving home lulled into space
CRACK: heartbreak above

forks bent like noodles
pink paint wrinkled on steel lugs
greetings, disaster

r&e first hope
snooty and a king's ransom
more tears in my beer

a real hero found
subject: sad bridgestone needs help
reply: let's fix her

fairy godfather
help my little girl be well
signed, a mom's sad tale

Being force fed broccoli

Anyone who knows me well knows that broccoli has the effect of kryponite on me (as in Superman, not the bike lock). Never in my life have I been able to be in the same room as the vile vegetable, or any of its cruciferous family members. It reeks, it makes me gag, and when it's being steamed god help me find HEPA filter stat.

I raced at South Seatac this past weekend and after seeing pictures of me suffering for 3 long laps, Zack said my facial expressions looked like I was "being force fed broccoli." It was probably the hardest race I've ever done. I had to run. A lot. The sand seemed to have crept further into the park. A lot. They threw in an extra run-up that made me want to throw up. A lot. It was fast, it was relentless. I got lapped by Denny's duct taped punk ass (rock!). If it weren't for Jane making a special guest appearance in one brief corner of the singletrack, I would have crawled under a tree and wept at how pathetic I was feeling that day. I have no idea why. I didn't have an ounce of competitiveness, not a wisp of fire, no nails to chew on. But Jane inspired me on and helped me visualize passing a few more girls. By the last lap a bit of my old self was back and I chased down a few girls one by one. They seemed to drop like flies, esp the ones who had started so strong. It certainly wasn't my old form from last year where I'd start from the back and pick them off one-by-one until I was in the top 5. No, this year I have yet to crack the top 10. Maybe the girls are just that much stronger this year. Two of them were upgraded to Cat 3 after Sunday, so maybe that will give me some space to move up next time and to find my fire again.

Susanne's Memorial Ride

Susanne's Memorial

I mentioned something the other day about life's preciousness. It got even more precious this week with the tragic passing of a young woman who was struck by a van during her morning commute to Outdoor Research. I attended her memorial ride on Friday and it was a testiment to the love that flows between family, friends, and strangers. Bikes were decorated with flowers. Her family made tshirts with her image and ones that said, "We'll miss you Sus...Ride on." People tied black lace ribbons to their arms or bikes. We rode around the city for the regular CM ride, then most continued on to the intersection in West Seattle where the accident occured. It was a beautiful gathering of hundreds of people, mostly on bikes, carrying candles and placing flowers and tokens on the ground. Afterwards part of the group moved on to Alki Point where her family held a more intimate memorial with her dad, cousin, and friends telling stories about Susanne's life. They are a tightly knit, spiritual family. I had the honor of giving her husband a bottle of red wine at Alki Point. He told me that red wine was Susanne's favorite and that pink was her favorite color. If she'd seen my bike she would have talked about it for days. I didn't know Susanne or her husband or her friends. I wanted to show up to give them the love and caring that I've seen so abundant in the bike community. What else could a stranger do? We're a small group and we look out for each other.

Live every day with mass amounts of love. Ride on and be safe out there.