Off to Celebrate the Birth of a Nation

Columbus day, good day for some, not so good for others.

Rather than explode bombs this next week, can we think of something better to do to commemorate the slaughter of the natives, the stealing and deforestation of northamerica, and the rapid westward expansion of land- and resource-grubbing anglos who used the tears, blood, and backs of red, black and yellow people to build up the most powerful nation in the world?

So the 4th of July, Independence day. I like firecrackers about as much as my cat does. And he likes firecrackers less than baths or stitches being removed from his anus. The day we told the brits, "nuff is enough, Weeze flying solo now." I suppose there is some nobility in that. Freedom of religion, sure thing, speech... a must. But how much of what our country was founded on still pervades our days, still dictates how our people and our nation interact with the planet and its worldly inhabitants?


Not enough.

So this 4th, I'll enjoy a paid holiday as a public servant. I'll burn some fossil fuels on the highways like a good american. But I will also take some time to ride, race, and visit friends. I will do some things just because some one else wants me to. I will be kind to some animals. I will practice free speech, eat some free range chicken, and give some free love.

I'll leave the country... baja calls (so fun crossing the border these days), I'll enjoy america's pastime... tis such a beautiful sport, and I'll think about what it means to be independent.

Ode to the Andes

A Ride into the Sky

November 15, 2005. Today was an unforgettable day, perhaps one of the best ever for me. Our mother earth, the landscapes, the power, the organisms (all of them) made themselves known to me today.

Arriving in Huaraz, a mountain town at 3000 meters elevation (and about 20 people per meter) in the afternoon yesterday, I quickly felt at ease by the kids playing in the streets, the slow pace of life and the fresh, cool air which blew cotton-shaped clouds over the Cordillera Blanca. The Blanca are a range of mountains of spectacular structures, size, and color. The highest peak in Peru, Huascaran, climbs up to nearly 6800 meters, but surrounded by 10 peaks between 5000 and 6500 meters, one hardly notices it standing out among all the other white capped peaks. The trekking here is amazing, world class. Recently, however, glacial retreat is causing instability and some are predicting that Huaraz could be wiped out by flooding induced from glacial collapse. Climate change may be much more real for these villagers than you. But on this day, all of the Blanca were surrounded in clouds. Not true this morning. The sun shown upon the glaciers and me.

I awoke to a spectacular view, no need to attempt to describe it here. I can only say come on down. After some morning fruit, coffee, reading, errands, it was time for (you guessed it) a bike ride. The road through this valley is narrow and busy, so after asking around, I convinced my pal, Don Pepe, a 70 yr old Peruvian with a similar passion for two wheels, to come with me up a dirt road to the Tallan pass - elevation 4200m. We have ridden a few days together and he is jovial, and strong, making for a good cycling companion.

The road to Tallan is one of the ways back to the coast over the Cordillera Negra, so named for their lack of snow. I guess 15,000 feet summits are not enough elevation to garnish snowfall at this latitude.

Don Pepe made it about 5 kms. of the 32 km climb before realizing that the air was thin, he was old, and his 42-23 granny gear was not going to cut it. I slogged on, spending much time in my 39-28, and occasionally choosing the 32 or 24 tooth rear cog. What does this all mean? Climbing an Andean Mt. at elevation, on a rocky dirt road, on a rigid road bike, for 3 straight hours (there was one, ONE flat section that lasted 5 minutes) into a Pacific driven head wind through Quechuan villages should be a requirement for all of humanity. And I wasn’t doing the most work of the day.

There were little girls hauling buckets of water nearly equal their own weight. I stopped to talk to a group of young men cutting, stacking and hauling firewood (on their BACKS and their mules) up steep inclines. Only 1 really spoke much Spanish, but we all managed a few hard laughs. They asked for my help with the wood. I confessed, I’d die trying after a couple hours. I paid my respects and continued upward.

The Quechuan people I met today are direct descendant of migrants out of Asia some 100,000 years ago. They have no electricity, some modern amenities like pots for cooking, but still live in adobe huts much like their ancestors. They are farmers, herders (of sheep and cattle) and living a simple, grueling life that inspired me to keep climbing. My poor climbing abilities were exacerbated by the altitude. My headache, slight nausea, and weak pedal strokes were not enough to stop me today, however. I counted the kilometers ever so slowly and wanted to turn around several times. But after 3 hours, two cliff bars, two gu´s and two bottles of water, I made it.

Relief lasted minutes. The wind was kicking up to 60 km/hr through the pass and I had to descent in the cold air for another 32km with out any fuel. I had plenty of wind, a terribly rocky road, kids yelling, simply, “gringo!” as I passed with trepidation down the dirt roads that are part of their homes. I was motivated by the thought of making it off the mountain before being blown off, driven off, or falling off. I’ll say this much in all honesty, the climb was the second hardest of my life, the descent was harder.

all the way down....

So much more to say about today, the past few, the ones coming. Ask me about it sometime. Riding a bike from Lima, Peru to Quito, Ecuador is an event that along with a handful of others around the world, will glow in my memory banks for a lifetime and inspire other experiences? Anyone down for trekking across Borneo for 3 weeks? Alas, I have to pay my Sol ($0.35) and go get some more food.

Pedro

Glendale Geezer Tales

Olaf is my new hero, so cute, so fit, so... Safegay.

Not only that but, eeking into a break with the cagey vet on memorial day (along with Ashe/Juarez) and getting my tale handed to me has inspired some increased training and dedication, along with a commitment to race smart, not just hard.

I plan on actually racing all summer, and having raced heavy from 1997-2001, taken 3 years off, it is only now that my fitness is coming back. But let's stay away from ancient history and stick to how hard the hot Bako RR was, that knowledge gave me comfort because the Glendale crit couldn't be that hard.

Strange course though, 1.2 miles long w. two super long straights. The finish was at the end of the headwind straight. Early on, I sat in, got my warm up in 3 laps and the prime bell rings. Sprinters like primes. With a half lap to go, no one has launched as I role forward. Time to explode, and no one cares. Cool, I put my head down to feel how hard the wind pushes, but get the prime by a good 15 seconds. The bell rings again, this time it's cash. I'm already out there? right? See if I can hold it. Not only that, but this type of solo effort was exactly what I was unable to do Memorial day, when I went from first to worst in 1.5 laps. Test time.

I passed, the gap dropped, but I was clear and with two consecutive primes, it was rest up, monitor counters. Several went, and a few laps later I see a line ripping off the front and gaining ground. This looks good. It has SoCal's premier teams represented... Amgen, 5 Start Fish, Central Coast Magazine. I have to launch now, into the headwind, knowing that I can turn the corner for one last burst to bridge. Several come with and within a lap, we have a 12 man up, 70 racers are 15 seconds back. We motored. Of course we did, we had horses, Chris DeMarchi, Tom Farley, Tim Roth, Greg Coburn.

The pulls took their toll on the less fit (me included) but despite hard attempts to be bring us back by the field, we were solid, half way around the group just 20 minutes into racing. At 30 minutes, we were halfway done and about to lap the field. It was not wanted by all of us, we could be racing against 11, but now we were back in the mixed bag. 20 minutes to go and several more moves are going. Some dangle but I can't be bothered, I suffered in the break and I need to ride position. Luckily for me, nothing sticks, and at 10 mins to go, a field sprint shapes up. From the final corner it's nearly a half mile headwind sprint out of a massive group.

I came into the final corner about 20th? Can you imagine. I stood and stomped, and guess what... riders were moving backwards. One decides that at 300 meters to go he will stop pedaling and pull off, ONTO the sheltered side of the wide straight, where everyone is passing! I curse "Don't you f-ing dare come into me like that!" He hears me, corrects, holds his line. But this is just enough to take me off the gas for a touch.

Breakway mate Farley has a great lead out from field rider Gary Hansen and Allen Richburg is simply the fastest one. Chris DeMarci is always present is these races. I was happy to finish within a bike length of my 4 breakaway companions, all of whom were stronger today, for my best result of the season, 5th. So fun to be back in it again.

Good living, let's ya know yer alive!

Eddy the Girl and Merckx the Menace

corkscrew