Our Day Lily Garden

About six years ago I carved out an area in the back yard to plant a Day Lily garden.  Vicky and I have been working on it since then, planting more, watering, weeding.

We have created something very beautiful.  The Lilies are blooming, many different colors.  It is beautiful.

Leaving in an hour for our final training ride for the STP

Five years ago, almost to the day, I finished my final training ride for my first Seattle to Portland bike ride--the STP.  That was about two years after I moved to Whidbey Island.  I had been hearing about the STP from time to time during those two years, and decided after my first year that I might just try this thing.

So I bought a bike, a cheap one.  Steel, heavy, cheapest parts available.  Got on it, and rode all over the place in the spring and early summer of 2009.  It was hard, and mostly lonely, work.  I was not a cyclist.

The STP is not the most difficult of bike rides.  The Cascade Bicycle Clubs sponsors others that are more challenging, and there are other organizations out here that sponsor other rides that are also more challenging.

But, for me, the thought of riding my bike 200+ miles in two days was beyond my imagination.  I had a lot of doubts, and was a bit afraid of not being able to make it.  The morning in 2009 when I left Seattle I almost turned back and didn't try. I had told many people I was going to do this ride, partly to force myself to actually do it when the time came.  Couldn't back out when I had told so many people. 

I got there, very sore.  Open blisters on my butt the whole second day.

And when I crossed that finish line I was a different person.  I was no longer a college professor from Illinois.  I was a retired PNW person who had moved here to be able to take advantage of all of the outdoor opportunities this part of the country offered.

I had not wanted to retire to simply not work.  I retired to be able to learn new things, accomplish new things.   I had already learned to dance, and could do this well, and had done a lot of hiking, and had enjoyed that a lot.  But this, the STP, was different.  Because this was something that was quite far out of my previous comfort zone.

The next summer foot surgery prevented me from doing it again.  But in 2011, my son Jules and my son-in-law Sean did the STP with me.  Vicky was there at the finish line to celebrate with us and to drive us home.

Her plan for 2012 was to do some riding with me in the early stages of my training for the 2012 STP, and then I would do the final training on my own.  But after a few rides together, it became clear that she also could become a cyclist in her 60s and could do the STP.  So she, titanium disk in her back and all, bought a bike and off we went.

That year we trained together, and did as much riding on our road trips as we could.

In 2012 and 2013, Vicky, Jules, and I did the STP.

For awhile last year, during our training, Vicky and I thought it would be our final one.  The training rides we were taking were hard.  But as we got closer to the actual STP, those thoughts went by the wayside, and we decided we would keep doing them in future years.

This year we decided we would try a different approach to training--one that was not as brutal.  We didn't do any hard, long rides.  Instead, we did a large number of shorter rides.    What I and we had been doing in previous years was similar to the training guide provided by the Cascade Bicycle Club, and there is no doubt it worked. 

But this year we tried a different model.  In the 90 days since we did our first ride of 2014 we have done 52 rides, averaging 24 miles/ride.  We have taken only three rides longer than 60 miles.    We have taken only five rides of 50 miles or longer (compare that with the Cascade training guide that recommends 24 rides of 50 miles or longer).

We have taken 2 1/2 times more rides than we did in 2012, and have ridden 200 more miles.

Will it work for us?  We'll know in a week.  But we feel stronger than we did last year, our bodies less run down, our joints healthier.  Maybe, for people in their mid-60s who have not been cyclists, and who don't aspire to riding faster than 12 mph, something like what we are doing this year might be the best.    Our speeds over the three main training courses we have developed have increased dramatically in the past three months.  Whether that will translate into a fun STP for us is the question.  We know we can get there.  We just want to get there feeling good!

Regardless of how it turns out, this 90 days of training has been a great experience for us.   It has required some significant discipline to ride almost every day when we are home and the weather is acceptable.  And we know that it is a type of training regimen than one can only do if you are retired (the Cascade training guide is designed for people who are still working and have to do a lot of their training on weekends).

We are excited for next weekend to finally arrive when we leave Seattle on our bikes.  And we are excited for the next two hours to come--when we finish this year's training.  It's a beautiful day here.  Where else do we want to be today except riding on Whidbey Island together--catching glimpses of Mt. Baker and Mt. Rainier, of Saratoga Passage and the Strait of Juan de Fuca, of the Cascades and Olympics, of lush woods and open farm meadows, and dodging deer?

Gotta go get my Chamois Butt'r on.  We're ready to go!

 Two hours later:

A photo of us in our front yard after this final ride:

 

You only have one life: Live it.

We have been in the planning stages for our next road trip almost from the time we arrived home exactly three months ago.  One doesn't just hop into the car and drive off without a plan.

Sometimes we are referred to as "snow birds."  But we really aren't.   For one thing, well, uh.......there isn't snow here.

Second, we don't go to RV parks/resorts, park our camper, and stay for the winter.  Instead, over the winter months, we travel, go to different places, and above all---avoid RV resorts.

Instead of "snow birds," we identify ourselves as taking "road trips."  By that we mean we travel a lot, go to places we have never seen, and deal with the unknown.

We will basically spend seven months seeing nobody except each other.  Sometimes we will be in locations we love (Death Valley, etc.) and sometimes in places we have never seen before......and will possibly never see again.

In other words, the seven months are an adventure.  Full of new places, new feelings, new disappointments, and new delights.

We intentionally chose a pickup camper to be able to do this.  We wanted something small and nimble so we could get into places where larger RVs could not.  That has worked as designed.  FAN-TAS-TIC!

We wanted a 4-wheel drive pickup so we could get to places that were off the beaten track.  This has worked as designed:  FAN-TAS-TIC!

We wanted a camper that we could easily drop so we could drive to other places to hike for the day.  This has worked as designed: FAN-TAS-TIC.

We wanted to be warm at night, to have fresh and healthy food, and to have a comfortable bed.  This has worked as designed:  FAN-TAS-TIC.

Why are we doing this?  Because we have such a small window.  My body is falling apart.  I have had three foot surgeries and two shoulder surgeries since I moved to Whidbey Island.  I have a torn rotator cuff in my left shoulder that eventually will need surgery.  I have two knees that I am keeping alive with "chicken shots" but will eventually need replacement.  Vicky has terrible arthritis in her toe and a back where there is a titanium disk--a back where the doctor said she would never be able to run or ride a horse.  Now she can run, hike, cycle, and dance.

But for how long can we keep going?  How long is our window where we can keep our bodies strong enough so we can do this kind of thing?

The window is small for the period after you retire and have the time and money to be able to do this kind of thing, but also have the health/body to be able to.  It is small for all of us, smaller for some than for others. 

DO NOT WASTE IT!  Use it, live it, celebrate it.  There are no guarantees for whether you can have it or for how long you can have it.

So we are using it.

To use it requires months of planning.  You have to get all of your equipment in order.  For us that has meant repairs to our camper and maintenance of our pickup.  You need to scope out all of the National Forests along your route.  Food, camping equipment, medicines (man, you ought to experience how much of an effort it is to get enough medicines for seven months when you are in your mid-60s), electronics, books, movies, clothing, poop bags, hiking supplies, food supplies, batteries, etc., etc.,  for seven months of on-the-road travel. 

AND you have to prepare your home for seven months of not being there.  This is a huge undertaking involving security, people to watch it, and how to anticipate problems that might occur in your absence (and when you might not be able to be reached).

The planning is enormous. 

Lots of time, lots of work, and lots of discussion.  But it's all worth it.

Why?

Because you only have one life.  And we want to live it.  And we know that we have that short window that I mentioned before.  We spent all of our adult lives being responsible people whose priorities were always their children and families.  And it was wonderful--it gives us meaning to our lives, and the foundation for the rest of our lives.  Now those people are grownups who are doing the same thing. It is their time. 

This is our time, our time exclusively.  And it will be gone so soon.  That breaks our hearts to realize it, but it is true.  Very soon we will be too old to climb to the top of Navaho Knobs and look out over all of Capital Reef National Park.  Too soon we will not be able to walk to anywhere we want in Death Valley, and see places where so few have ever been.  We cannot waste it.

We have to use this time, and use it well.  It has to be what we have as memories for a future where we know we will become weak, sick, and feeble.

One only has one life.  We choose to live this part of ours traveling and hiking all over the country, cycling so that we can every year do the STP,  and doing whatever we can to tell our grandchildren that we love them and think of them always.

You only have one life. 

Chicken Shots

Officially known as Synvisc.  It is made from the crown of chickens, of all things.  I have often wondered who thought to themselves: "let's inject knees with the crown of chickens." 

According to my Orthopedist, the studies indicate that 70% of people report some improvement in knee pain from osteoarthritis of the knee with chicken shots.  He said that his experience is that about 50% show some improvement.

Me?  It is a miracle drug.

My family physician told me today that Group Health Insurance will no longer pay for chicken shots because the effectiveness is not sufficient to warrant them.  They are wrong wrong wrong.

Perhaps they do not work for everyone.  But for me?  I can go, within a few days after a shot, from not being able to walk down a couple of stairs to being able to bound down a flight of them.

I have had two in my left knee and three in my right knee.  They have given me new life.  I would have to stop cycling and hiking without them, and probably start looking at two knee replacements.

What do I make of the studies that indicate that the effectiveness of chicken shots is minimal?  This stuff works for me.  I can do hard 100 mile rides, and the STP (205 miles in two days) only because of this medication (well, in addition to training like crazy).

I would sell my living room furniture, my car, whatever, to pay for them myself if my insurance company stopped paying for them.

Civilian Conservation Corps at Bowman Bay, WA

We took Ian and Adam camping at Bowman Bay.  Spent two days and nights there.  We all had a blast--hiked, played on scooters (them, not us), went to the beach, ate s'mores, had pancakes for breakfast every morning (yum, thanks Vicky), sat around the campfire.  Another visit to Grandparent Heaven. 

One of the primo features of this campground is that it is a fantastic reflection of the work of the Civilian Conservation Corps, Franklin Roosevelt's program that got thousands of young, unemployed men out into the natural areas to plant trees and build roads, dams, structures, bridges, and trails.  Roosevelt's "Tree Army."

Without this program the parks in our country would be shadows of what they currently are.  

There are several structures in this campground that were built in the CCC style--massive wood beams and skilled rock masonry.   We have found that style of building all over the country, sometimes in the most unusual and unexpected places.  

But even the best construction is no match for years of weathering, and the structures here were beginning to show their age.  

So we were extremely pleased to see that the Washington State Park Service is investing in restoring these buildings.    The efforts can be seen in some of these photos.  

 

The caps of many of the beams are being replaced with new wood.  

New roof structure:

80 years later.  Good as new.

Statue erected to honor the young men who were part of the Civilian Conservation Corps.

Trying out our new training regimen

This year we are training for the STP by doing more frequent, but shorter rides.  Last year we rode 1000+ miles in the three months prior to the STP.  We did these miles in 21 rides.

This year, with about three weeks left until the STP, we have slightly exceeded last year's total miles, but have achieved those miles in 45 rides.  By the time the STP rolls around (ha ha) we will have done 2 1/2 times more rides than last year, and two-three hundred more miles.

And it has been easier, and more fun.

But has it been as effective as what I have done for the past four years and we have done for the past two?  We won't know for sure until we actually do the STP, but this weekend was a good test.

We rode our first "century" (100 miler) on the relatively flat Burke-Gilman trail.  In previous years, I and we took our first century ride early in May, so clearly there is a difference in how we are approaching things.

We literally (for us) flew.  We beat our previous 100 mile Burke-Gilman speed by .5 mph.  That, for us, is astounding improvement because being at the age we are, and with all of our orthopedic problems, we have probably almost approached our ceiling for how fast we can ride, especially since we do no riding for about seven months because we are in our camper in places without roads.



We were actually shocked with how strong we felt at mile 90.  The only problem is discomfort from the saddle, but there is little to be done about that.  That is what it is.  A pain in the a$$.

King Prium, 555 per day, and Vicky's son Owen

Iraq is falling apart, just as so many of us predicted over 10 years ago when the US declared war on a country that was run by a tin horn dictator who posed no danger to us.

Despite the Bush government's assertions, there were no Weapons of Mass Destruction. 

And there was ample evidence, despite claims made by people like Hillary Clinton, that there were none. 

The UN inspectors provided compelling evidence to that effect.

Know what else?  The US lost that war.

Know what else else?  The US has not won a war for almost 70 years.  We suck at winning wars since The Greatest Generation won WWII against almost insurmountable odds in only 4 years.  4 years?  To win two huge wars against two massive countries who had built astounding war machines? In only 4 years?

And now, at a rate of 555 per day, the only Americans who were in the military in a war we actually won are dying, including my father two years ago.

Now, this is not to say that we don't send our young people off to die in wars.  Of course we do.

As King Prium said (one of my favorite lines ever) in an otherwise forgettable movie Troy:

"War is old men talking and young men dying."

So, old men like Bush, Rumsfield, Fleischer, Republicans, Generals, talk talk talk.  Even Colin Powell got into the act.  How awful for him.  An otherwise honorable man, someone who, unlike the other old men, really knew what war was all about, participated in sending young men and women to their deaths for a losing and worthless cause.

Meanwhile, my wife's son Owen was over there walking the walk.  None of these old men who wanted the war are worthy of licking his boots.  And none of them would ever have to wait for an appointment at a VA Hospital.

The United States spends as much money on its military as THE ENTIRE REST OF THE WORLD COMBINED.  And yet we can't win any wars.

The US military had almost three times as many years to win the war in Iraq as we had 70 years ago to win the wars against both Germany and Japan.  Since we, and everybody else, knows that the actual people on the ground are highly skilled and motivated, the only logical conclusion is that their leaders are incompetent.  To think that all of the Al-Qaeda, Iran, and ISIS combined could equal just Rommel's 7th Panzer Division is ridiculous.  And yet our military, 70 years ago, defeated him. 

If a CEO of any company was as incompetent as our military leaders since WWII have been, they would have been sacked.  I suggest, though, that instead of sacking, everyone from General on up is sent to Iraq, today, to solve the messes they have created.  This includes Bush, Rumsfeld, and every Senator and congressperson who voted for and/or was in favor of the Iraq war.  Let them deal with it. 

But by no means send Owen, or any other Owens, until we have a complete change in our leadership and philosophy about wars and our place in the world.  All of our professional military leaders, and many of our elected leaders, need to be fired, lose all of the benefits, and rot waiting for medical care at VA Hospitals.  (I'm kind of mad, can you tell, or am I being sufficiently vague?)

NO MORE YOUNG MEN DYING.  Let the old talkers die.



  

The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly: Camping, Hiking, and Cycling in Washington

The Good.

Vicky turned 64 last week.  To celebrate, we took our camper to a nice spot on the Cle Elum River, spent four days there camping and hiking, and then went to Wenatchee for the Apple Century Bike Ride with Jules, Jessica, Ian, Adam, and friends/cycling partners of theirs.

Our site on the Cle Elum River was lovely.  Peaceful, quiet, isolated.  Just what we seek. 

 

We took some nice hikes.  None were our favorites of all time, but they were relaxing.  Some beautiful views:

More "good:'  The Apple Century Bike ride.  It goes through miles of apple orchards, with views of the mountains the entire way.

 

Vicky and I did the 50 mile ride, while Jules and Dale (his and our friend) did the entire century.  They are much more powerful riders than we are.  But we knew that if we were comfortable on this hilly 50 mile ride, we would be ready for the STP, and that is our goal.  We felt great!

The Bad:

The ride is hilly.   When you are cycling, the scariest sight is a road named for a hill.  And the scariest of the scariest?  When the road name is Deadman Hill:

Here is a shot of Vicky, waiting at the top for me:

 

Actually, it wasn't as bad as we had remembered it from last year.  We are in somewhat better shape than last year.  We believe it is because we have altered our training regimen.  We do more frequent, shorter rides than we have done for the past two years, and it seems to be working.

The Ugly:

Here is what we saw one our hikes in the Cle Elum River area:

 

Hunters and graffiti "artists" who think that because it is public lands that they own it.  We saw dozens of mounds of spent shells all over the place.  The Forest Service needs to ban shooting in National Forests because those who shoot are irresponsible.  

Can anyone identify who did the graffiti?  It's against the law.  Report them.

OK.   That's the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of our week.  

Now for the "special" good:  

Ian and Adam got new bikes, and we got to watch them enjoy them for two whole days.  They are growing up. 

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.