2009 Blogs
On a sad day in June my three friends left Boulder to move to Boise, ID, with a 4th on the way. Tim and Ruby-the-dog rallied a huge moving truck with a trailer hauling one of their cars. Chellie, the strongest soul ever, was on bed rest with soon-to-be little man, Henry Jackson; so she had to fly to Boise. This left one of their cars in Boulder, which stayed with me until I was finally able to take a breather and drive up to Boise. It did feel a little excessive having two cars, one scooter and a fleet of bikes, all to one little person.
My flight from Australia landed me into CO at 3pm on Friday the 4th. My original plan was to leave the following morning and drive the 12 hours to Boise. Afterall, I had a good 24-hours to "rest my eyes" on the plane home, so I should be rested and ready to go, eh? Negative ghostrider. No matter how badly I wanted to see Chellie and Tim, I could not bring myself to get in the car a couple-few hours later and drive 12 hours. So I waited a day. Jet lag sucks dead toads, and I found myself wide-awake at 12am on Sunday and decided to pack the car and jet. I got about 10 miles out of town before hearing the gadunk of a front flat tire. It's pitch black, I've changed a flat (car) tire once in my life, and getting those hubcaps off are the darndest. Luckily I had built my mountain bike up after flying home with it, and had it in the car. So I put my helmet and riding shoes on and pedaled home in the dark at 1:30am. Sketchy.
I actually fell asleep until about 7am when I called my brother to tell him my luck and beg for help. He graciously picked me up and we drove out to the car and put the spare on. It's Sunday, on Labor Day weekend, so every tire store is closed but one. After 15 calls I strike luck and am waiting at their door for the open sign to light up. After they fix it I'm on the road at 10am.
The check engine light comes on. I hop out and check the engine oil and top off the coolant and am on my way. It's a Subaru, and apparently the light is on so frequently that Subaru owners are more shocked if the light isn't on than if it is. Me and Cormac McCarthy's "All the Pretty Horses" are making great time and I'm still jazzed from my triple shot latte. In the middle of a poetic sentence about a pretty horse, the speakers go silent. The radio has shit the bed. Nothing works. Silence, but for the clammoring in my head.
2 long and introspective hours crawl by until I'm 5 miles off the Idaho state line and I hear David Bowie belting "one dream, one soul, one prize..." Music! It has never felt so good to sound so loud and bad singing along to a classic. I was stoked.
Maybe the stoked-ness of it all caused me to push the pedal a little further. I swear I had the cruise set at 84 in a 75 when I saw lights behind me. Officer Kilton informed me I was going 10 over and took my license and registration. I'm surprised he didn't pull me out of the car - I was so sleep deprived I looked toked. Onward-ho and I made it to their humble abode in Boise just before 10pm.
But it was worth it...I think...although now I miss them even more. Little Henry is as captivating as a bonfire in the dark woods. We'd all catch each other just staring at him, watching his every move. We did some good eating of course, lotsa coffee drinking, some pedaling. Boise is a great town, but that's a secret. The reason for their move to Boise was an odd letter combination of I/O BIO. Tim moved his expertise from Dynafit to I/O BIO, a merino wool company similar to that of the well-known Smartwool and Icebreaker, but with urban style. The hip name stands for indoor/outdoor biocompatible. It's clothing you can wear on a backcountry trip or in a freezing rain cyclocross race and have a performance notch above the others, while also being able to pick up style points in downtown Aspen.
My flight from Australia landed me into CO at 3pm on Friday the 4th. My original plan was to leave the following morning and drive the 12 hours to Boise. Afterall, I had a good 24-hours to "rest my eyes" on the plane home, so I should be rested and ready to go, eh? Negative ghostrider. No matter how badly I wanted to see Chellie and Tim, I could not bring myself to get in the car a couple-few hours later and drive 12 hours. So I waited a day. Jet lag sucks dead toads, and I found myself wide-awake at 12am on Sunday and decided to pack the car and jet. I got about 10 miles out of town before hearing the gadunk of a front flat tire. It's pitch black, I've changed a flat (car) tire once in my life, and getting those hubcaps off are the darndest. Luckily I had built my mountain bike up after flying home with it, and had it in the car. So I put my helmet and riding shoes on and pedaled home in the dark at 1:30am. Sketchy.
I actually fell asleep until about 7am when I called my brother to tell him my luck and beg for help. He graciously picked me up and we drove out to the car and put the spare on. It's Sunday, on Labor Day weekend, so every tire store is closed but one. After 15 calls I strike luck and am waiting at their door for the open sign to light up. After they fix it I'm on the road at 10am.
The check engine light comes on. I hop out and check the engine oil and top off the coolant and am on my way. It's a Subaru, and apparently the light is on so frequently that Subaru owners are more shocked if the light isn't on than if it is. Me and Cormac McCarthy's "All the Pretty Horses" are making great time and I'm still jazzed from my triple shot latte. In the middle of a poetic sentence about a pretty horse, the speakers go silent. The radio has shit the bed. Nothing works. Silence, but for the clammoring in my head.
2 long and introspective hours crawl by until I'm 5 miles off the Idaho state line and I hear David Bowie belting "one dream, one soul, one prize..." Music! It has never felt so good to sound so loud and bad singing along to a classic. I was stoked.
Maybe the stoked-ness of it all caused me to push the pedal a little further. I swear I had the cruise set at 84 in a 75 when I saw lights behind me. Officer Kilton informed me I was going 10 over and took my license and registration. I'm surprised he didn't pull me out of the car - I was so sleep deprived I looked toked. Onward-ho and I made it to their humble abode in Boise just before 10pm.
But it was worth it...I think...although now I miss them even more. Little Henry is as captivating as a bonfire in the dark woods. We'd all catch each other just staring at him, watching his every move. We did some good eating of course, lotsa coffee drinking, some pedaling. Boise is a great town, but that's a secret. The reason for their move to Boise was an odd letter combination of I/O BIO. Tim moved his expertise from Dynafit to I/O BIO, a merino wool company similar to that of the well-known Smartwool and Icebreaker, but with urban style. The hip name stands for indoor/outdoor biocompatible. It's clothing you can wear on a backcountry trip or in a freezing rain cyclocross race and have a performance notch above the others, while also being able to pick up style points in downtown Aspen.