Into the Wild...........Vicky starring in a Sean Penn film

In one of the areas we camped this winter we came across an old bus.  It reminded us of the bus in the Sean Penn film "Into the Wild."  I don't know if you have seen the film, but if you haven't, save yourself 2 and 1/2 hours of superficial tripe....and boredom.

The film is sorta based on a true story, of a young man who went into the Alaska wilderness and starved to death.  Along the way he meets a lot of really interesting people, a real slice of pretend America.  And with those people he manages to show insight and wisdom.  He's like a combination of Jack Kerouac, Woody Guthrie, Sir Richard Burton (the explorer who sought the origin of the Nile, not the actor) and Yoda. 

When in fact he was actually dumb as a rock--he starved to death even though there was plenty of food around to eat.  And he couldn't get back to civilization even though there was a way to cross the river only half a mile from where he was.   He died a needless death, starving and in pain. There is nothing to admire about his foolishness, and portraying him as a romantic figure trivializes him. 

And now, because of the film, even more people who shouldn't be doing it try to reach the bus.  Maybe if the film had portrayed the guy in a more realistic fashion, they would knock it off. 

Here is the listing for the film:

Here is Vicky starring in the film.  Cool photos are always more fun when a person is prepared for the wild, and respects its dangers.  And as a result, you know, lives. 

10,000 cycling miles in just a little over 5 years

As of today, I have achieved a milestone that in my pre-retirement life I never could have thought possible.  Starting with my training for the 2009 STP in March, 2009,  I have ridden my bike 10,000 miles.    I had hoped to achieve this before I started this year's training for the 2014 STP, but we could not find places to ride on our last road trip.  So I missed the goal of riding 10,000 miles in five years, but did make it in five years and three months. I'm especially happy because in that same time span, I have had three major surgeries on my foot and a rotator cuff surgery.  These surgeries essentially cost me a year of time, but have also given me the opportunity for so much more. 

Vicky's total is 4500+ miles.  That is for her starting in 2012.  In less than two and a half years, she has gone across the US and half way back with a titanium disk in her spine.  (Hope she makes it the rest of the way back here soon, or I'll get awfully lonely).

This week we celebrated the three year anniversary of our first date.  Since that date we have hiked over 1300 miles, driven 29000+ miles all over the US, and cycled over 4500 miles.  And danced and danced and danced.

Cyclists and motorists: Two close calls this week

Earlier this week I almost hit a bike rider with my car.  Or, rather, a bike rider almost rode into the front of my car.

I was exiting a parking lot, slowing down to look to my left for cars before turning right, when all of a sudden there was a young woman on a bike right in front of me.  I slammed on my brakes, and so did she.

What she had done was to cut across the right hand lane turning left into the lot where I was.  Incredibly foolish because there were large bushes hiding any cars that would be coming out in that right lane.  She was riding into a totally blind spot.  If I had not been driving slowly and paying attention I would have hit her.  I would have felt so awful even though I would not have been responsible in any way.

A few minutes later I came back to the parking lot, and happened to see her standing with a young man, both of whom had bikes.  I told her that she was lucky I was paying attention because I could have killed her.  She said I was right, and thanked me.

And then I did an old man thing.  I couldn't help it.  I said "You really ought to be wearing helmets."  It was clear to me that they were not serious bike riders--their bikes were old, they had no helmets, no lights were on the bikes, and they were in dark clothing.  As I walked away, the young man said "I guess you don't need helmets if you are confident in your riding."  I replied:  "Just keeping thinking that way."

That's what happens when one's confidence exceeds one's common sense.

The other big event with cycling this week was almost being on the other end of a cyclist-vehicle collision.

It was a sunny day, so both Vicky and I were very visible.  In fact, we are visible in ways that would embarrass a lot of serious bike riders.

For example, we both have purchased white shoes.  White shoes show up when they are pedaling.  We wear bright clothing.  I even wear red cycling pants because of their visibility.  I had on a bright yellow shirt.  And, to top it off, both Vicky and I have four blinking tail lights.  That is not a misprint.  Four blinking lights each.  I figure that if one works, then four will work even better.  And if one doesn't work, then four might.

We also ride single file, as far to the right as is safe.  When cars come, we move into the shoulder if there is one.

Well, at this particular spot, the shoulder was rocky, so I yelled to Vicky that there was a bus behind us.  We are passed by buses all of the time--no big deal.  Because I always ride a bit to the left of Vicky, I moved to just the left of the white line that separates the road from the shoulder.  Where I am riding can be seen in this photo:

And then all of a sudden this bus was right next to me.  Inches away.  As can be seen, I am still just to the left of the white line. 

And then, half a second later, it is clear that after the bus is right upon me, I quickly start to move over into the rocky shoulder, even though I don't want to be there for safety reasons.  I know it is half a second later because my GoPro is set up to take photos every half second.

One can also see that the bus has not moved over to pass me.  Not even an inch.  

Take a look at this next photo.  This is one second after the bus started to pass me.  Imagine a cyclist in the area between the bus and the white line, which is where I was.  You can also see that in that one second, I have headed into the rocky shoulder.

This is dangerous.  I have narrower tires than Vicky, and wanted to avoid this rocky shoulder because there is an increased risk of falls.  But I had to bail. 

Here is another shot, showing the virtual lack of any distance between the bus and the area left of the white line.  You can also see from this photo why the driver did not pull over.  He had committed himself to continue driving, and then saw there was a car coming toward him so couldn't pull over.

He should have slowed down, waiting for oncoming cars to pass, and then passed us.

I caught up to him later, and he got an earful.  He said he thought he had room to pass.  This was clearly either a lie or he is incompetent.

It was not a Whidbey Island school bus.  I did find out where it was from, and called their school district.  it appeared to me that the person in charge of transportation took the situation seriously.  I explained that if the driver thought he had room to pass then this suggested that the person shouldn't be driving children.  And he shouldn't.

Everyone elses give us plenty of room when they pass us.  Whidbey Island drivers are very careful and considerate, and we really appreciate it.  We say a lot of "thank yous" to motorists. 

When you have a wide vehicle, like this bus driver, you darned well know it.  We have a wide vehicle (our pickup and camper) and drive and pass accordingly.  You quickly realize how much of the road you are taking. 

Two incidents this week involving bikes and cars.  For one, a cyclist endangered herself physically (and me emotionally).  For the other, a careless, hurried, hostile? bus driver endangered me.

We all need to be careful.  Share the road.  Be considerate.  There is room for everybody if we all use some common sense.

MOTHER'S DAY 2014 My mother dies

This was intended to be a Mother's Day celebration with her family.

It didn't turn out that way.  Three days before, on the day people were arriving, she died. 

We were with her.  She did not die alone.  That would have made my father happy.

So, instead of a celebration, we held a small memorial for her.  She would have liked seeing us all together.

 
 

 

Vicky had made Red Velvet cake, at her request, and she had some.  Her last request in the hospital was for bacon. The staff didn't think she should have it, but we said:  "she wants bacon."  She ate it.

Our mother was a real mother. 

We spent the few days together, just appreciating the fact that we were a family.

Training for the STP: How easily can you do something well enough?

Last year, when training for our second STP together, we decided it would be our final one.  Getting into shape at our age is a big commitment for the months of April, May, and June.  We could do some riding over the winter, but not a lot given we were on road trips.  So it seemed that when we returned home, we were either riding, preparing to ride, or recovering from a ride.

Then, the STP came, and it was so much fun that we sort of reconsidered.  Then, Sean said he wanted to do another one, and that sealed the deal.

We are training once again.

But this time it's different.  This April we started slow, with 11 mile rides, then 23-mile rides, then 30 mile rides, then mixing them, and then a 53 mile ride.  What we seem to be finding is that more frequent, short rides are leading to more rapid improvement than the longer rides.

This will be my 5th STP, plus a summer after my first where I was recovering from foot surgery and went ahead and did all of the same training as if I was going to do one.  For all of the previous years I, and then we, worked our way up to fairly difficult (for us) centuries (100 mile rides) figuring that we would then be ready for the 100 mile rides on the STP.

But now we are wondering if we had been on the wrong track about this.  Perhaps those long rides, being pretty grueling on our island which is nothing but one hill after another, don't provide the benefits that we thought they did.  After all, we are not training for rides with Whidbey Island hills--the STP is fairly flat, with one or two real hills on the first day, and a few rollers on the second day.

Maybe, at our age, and without a long history of cycling, those longer rides took too much out of us, made it so that we had to spend too many days recuperating before the next ride.

Because I have a GPS we can monitor our progress, and this month we have made a lot of progress.  We can do the 11 mile ride as fast as we could at the end of last season.

So what we are going to do is try to ride about every day, with a couple of long rides on the flat Burke-Gilman trail in Seattle.  In other words, we are going to see if a more gentle approach works just as well.  If it does, then looking forward to another year of training in the future won't be so bad.

The author of the book, The Searchers, which was the basis for the John Wayne film, wrote a line in another of his cowboy stories that has stuck with me for many years.  It was this, in talking about one of the cowboys in his book:

"His religion was that it mattered less how well you did something than how easily you could do it well enough."

Maybe we can reap all of the fitness benefits of training for and doing the STP "well enough" by cutting back on the difficult parts of our training.  We are going to experiment with this.

Vicky, on one of our cold rides, as seen through my Go-Pro Camera (which is always trained on her):