Multiple Random Thoughts

No formality, no intro, no conclusion; just thoughts. And... go!

-This afternoon I saw a man on the Orange Line bicycle path with his big dog who was not so coincidentally taking a huge crap on the dirt alongside it. (The dog, not the man.) Not surprisingly, the man did not clean up after his dog. It was so sizable that the man himself might as well have pulled down his trousers and did it himself. He actually had the nerve to say good afternoon to me as I ran by (if I don't bike, I try to run at least five miles a day)... I slowed down to see if he would pull out something to clean up the mess, but no. No attempt. If I'd not been coming up on mile 4.5 I'd've yelled at him. I'll bet if I run by tomorrow it will still be there. If you can't be bothered to clean up after your dog, why the hell do you think someone else will? It's disgusting and far from environmentally friendly, you jerk.

-I rode my bicycle for a quick Trader Joe's run at twilight - a time of day that is already my favorite - but this jaunt in particular was, dare I say, enhanced by a feeling akin to flying. The seat of my bike felt a little higher, which let off a little on my knees and lower back. The black of the asphalt and the dark blue of the sky blended into one level of darkness despite my head and rear lights. The night air was pleasantly cool, wrapping its way around my legs, forearms and waist, kissing the back of my neck and ears. It was all so lovely. Then I realized that my roommate had taken the liberty of tuning my bike and adjusting things. Perhaps he saw that my bicycle was screaming for help; perhaps he was just being helpful - in either case I'm going to make a point to learn my bicycle better than just the surface stuff. I already know how to adjust my chain, disconnect/re-connect my brakes and remove my wheels if necessary. Now it's time to get a little more personal. Ride documentation is great and all, but methinks I'm going to get my hands dirty, if you get my drift.

-This may sound horribly morbid, but in the 2+ years I've been regularly riding my bicycle, well, everywhere, I have okayed within myself the possibility that I might die while riding. Ideally this scenario would involve me being 95 years old and having the time of my life, but sadly the scenario(s) involve(s) vehicles and me not making it to my 30th birthday. It is sad and actually exceptionally morbid, but in an odd way it has made me less afraid of death. This isn't isolated only to bicycling; it pertains to being a pedestrian and driving as well. I can only do what I can. If I die in the right, trying to avoid something and being proactive as I can - well, what more can one person do?

-The 10th Annual Los Angeles River Ride is in almost exactly four weeks, and I will be doing the 70 mile ride. If anyone would like to do lunch with me afterward, I will be starving. Hit me up.

Bats Day

Bats Day at Disneyland is one of the many yearly traditions I partake in. It's pretty much on the same scale as Christmas and my birthday. That said, I was very happy to have "celebrated" it this year with a few good friends and some happy haunts.

In an effort to make this post bicycle-related, I happened upon this "poster" in New Orleans Square at about midnight, just before wandering over to Main Street, U.S.A., for some ice cream and a few moments in the cinema:



If you're unaware of how Cycles Brion came to be, here's an excerpt from the history of Olivia Brion, suffragette and inspiration behind Brion bicycles and interestingly, Heron Lake Winery (no, I don't digress; take in your your history lesson):

Ancestry of Olivia Brion: How Cycles Brion Came to Be

During the high Middle Ages, three vineyards at the edge of the city of Bordeaux achieved fame for the exquisite quality of their red wines: Haut-Brion just north of the Pessac road, Laville Haut-Brion a quarter-mile to the south, and, between them, Basse-Brion. For fifteen generations these vineyards were lovingly cared for by the two branches of the Brion family– until the 1870s when the terrible advent of Phylloxera threatened to end forever this tradition of greatness.

The Haut-Brions dug in their heels: they mortgaged their chateaux to the hilt, tore out all their precious (but dying) vines, and replanted with the new American rootstock. Slowly they were able to restore their vineyards and winemaking.

Comte Pierre Gilles-Gascon de Blanquefort de la Basse-Brion [...] changed his name to Peter Brion and moved to Paris, where he invested the £200 in the new technology of bicycle making. His "farthing-penny" design did not sell well, and the disconsolate Peter declined into days of absinthe at the Lapin Agile. His daughter Mercedes took over the business and created a woman-friendly design with herself as model. This was a runaway success and restored the family fortune, paving the way for the even more brilliant success of Olivia Brion in the next generation.

Well, would you look at that; you learned something today, as did I. Let's pat ourselves on the backs, shall we?

Anyway, Bats Day. I really liked my outfit this year:



And these were just a few fun photos in general (I stayed until far after closing, when there were absolutely no crowds);







Silly, but whatever. It's possible that more will surface, with crowds donned in all sorts of expressive attire.

I mentioned some time ago that I'd eventually make a point to bicycle to Disneyland one of these days... perhaps this summer. Oh, bicycle fever. We all could stand to "suffer" from it - just a little bit.

Time to fall into bed. Every cyclist must have their sleep.

Simple Bike Ride

Listening to Little Boots and I'm in a really good mood.

Yesterday I went for an impromptu bicycle ride in conditions I usually prefer to not (read: really windy) but once I got out there, it wasn't so bad. South, East, and West riding wasn't so bad - once I went North it was a bit interesting. The only bad thing I guess you could say was that at times I felt I was being pushed from the side, so my wheels had this odd slippy-slidy feeling. Other than that, it was a beautiful day for riding.

Here's a blurry me in my riding outfit:



Aside from my cell phone, sunblock and water, this is what I usually carry with me (paper, pen, money, cards and ID in the event of an emergency; lip gloss and perhaps mascara in the event of an attractive someone):



This would be my bicycle.



I haven't named it yet, but we've been through a lot together. Some great rides. I've never experienced a flat with this one, and I've been riding it steadily for going on a year and a half.

I usually start out all my rides on the Orange Line Bike Path at White Oak and Oxnard in Encino:



Sometimes I continue along, heading West until I reach Canoga Station in Woodland Hills.



In between points I usually happen upon some beautiful flowers growing, especially during this time of year. It makes for a more pleasurable ride all around (some of the following photos were taken while in motion, so please excuse the quality):





I try to pay attention to all of the signs, which is why I'm surprised when others are surprised when they get into accidents or why there is a bicycle on "their side of the pathway":






I mean, the pathway seems to be clearly marked to me, but what are you going to do except ride, walk, and drive safely? On the return trip I sometimes keep going down the pathway past the Velodrome, baseball and soccer fields until I reach the park:




And then I head up Balboa Boulevard on home. It ends up being about 15 miles round-trip - a simple ride whether sprinting or coasting at most any time of day. Depending on what's going on this weekend, I might try a longer ride up to Granada Hills and back. We shall see.

TGIF, everyone! Make it a great weekend.

To Be Bespectacled or Not to Be Bespectacled

Seriously, that's the question.

I prefer to wear glasses on days when I'm not interested in wearing my contact lenses - either I wore them too long the day prior or I'd rather not be bothered. My optometrist said that my eyes are really dry and I need to invest in some re-wetting drops; until I remember the next time I'm at Target I've been making good use of my glasses. I love them so and would wear them everywhere if I could - but at the monetary rate they went for I am simply too afraid to think about riding my bicycle while wearing them. What if they fell off? What if my vision was so sharp that I got a headache? (It's happened before.) I can barely see without the aid of something, so to not wear them is not an option.

I happened upon an amusing interview from ESPN, talking with bespectacled BMX-ers about their experiences and perhaps considering alternative options. Naturally, some ride with; some ride without. Some say that as long as you're wearing a helmet they should stay on - something I never thought about, but it completely makes sense. Sadly, I can't find the continuing article that details experience of "some of the guys that used to rock glasses [who] have since moved on to other options", but in the meantime I guess I'll just accept that if they can wear their glasses while doing tricks, then I can wear mine while riding uphill both ways.

Now that I think about it, I could always invest in a glasses strap, perhaps one in a deep violet hue. Oh yeah, I'm totally feeling it now, especially since (per one of the guys) "when you're riding, [glasses block] out dust and debris from your eyes and you look sexy". Something tells me that I can function comfortably within that advantage.

Weekly Conundrum

I love going to the local farmers market every Sunday. Rain or shine, at some point between 8:00 am and 1:00 pm, you will find me there. While it's the promise of consistently good produce that keeps me coming back, it's also the sense of community, seeing familiar faces, knowing where my food is coming from. It just feels good, and I don't know how better to express it.

I walked there today, about a good quarter-mile from my house. After this weekend, I just wanted to make sure the ol' legs were still responding to messages from the brain. That and the weather was just great. Taking in the bright colors of the flora and fauna springing to life helped a lot as well. I normally ride my bicycle to the farmers market, but I'll have to admit that sometimes it's a bit of a pain. Not always, definitely not if I get there before 10:00. But today I got there at about 11:30 and, understandably, everyone wanted to get their goods for the week.

The Encino Farmers Market is actually met by a bike path and has signs surrounding it that encourage the use of bicycles:







The great people over at the Midnight Ridazz community have even put up one of these "Caution! Pass With Care" signs on the southeast side of Louise/Victory:



What makes me wonder is why with all the bike-friendly signage in the vicinity the only available bicycle parking is this (this being behind some petition tables positioned at a small entrance to the market, well away from where could be considered remotely accessible)?



Add that when the traffic getting in and out looks like this:



...and this:



...and that the state of the pathway looks somewhat like this (one of the good portions):



...it all can be made out to be something of a "why do I even bother" kind of situation. But I bother anyway, as it's a highlight to my week that I would rather take part in than not. Granted I walked today and there was a lot more honking and cars turning left instead of right out of the driveway than normal, but it was still a delight. The woman I get cara cara oranges from gave me a free avocado. I am not complaining.

My roommate has written emails about the bicycle parking situation, but that was about six months ago. Until then, we're making do (and enjoying the delicious fruits and vegetables while we're at it).

Bad Pain

Today was not a great day. It started off great - a great workout, a stress-free ride home, some reading/writing/editing done, and the promise of an afternoon at Disneyland to sweeten the deal. I wore an excellent outfit and a smile on my face. At 70 degrees and sunny (and in being in the company with my father and younger brother) it was going to be a fabulous day to end a rather sub-par week. I was never more wrong in my life.

The afternoon quickly took a 180-degree turn en route to The Happiest Place on Earth when my lunch decided to come up in a brown paper bag. I was actually relieved, as I had felt queasy and hot in the car for the past thirty miles. What threw me off was when we got to Disneyland - I was ready to resume things and party down as I always do. But I didn't. I made a beeline straight to the Grand Californian Hotel restrooms and puked my guts out. Three times.

I had to assume this was a bad case of food poisoning. What else could it have been? I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. I'd not been having dreams of fish. An hour later I met with my brother in the Park to get some ice cream - figuring a scoop of rainbow sherbet might help things along. While in line, I took a sip of electrolyte-laden Gatorade in the hopes to replenish what I lost. A minute later, I ran to the restrooms by The Gibson Girl and proceeded to make out with the toilet.

I told my brother I'd be going to First Aid to lie down.

Two hours later, I felt worlds better. No queasiness, no nothing. A bit sore from the forward-moving/bending and morning workout, but no biggie. I felt like me again, and that's all that mattered. Crisis intervened, if not averted. The staff was even kind enough to provide a wheelchair for free (and two sick bags) if in the event that walking around made me feel sick.

I felt great, if not pathetic. Sadly we didn't go on many rides, with the exception of The Haunted Mansion. I even walked around a little bit and felt good. It wasn't until we were wheeling it to Fantasyland that my hips, lower back, and thighs started killing me. I attributed it to sitting down and voted for ditching the wheelchair, but for some reason we didn't. What if something happened? By the end of the night, however, I was writhing in pain during a showing of The Enchanted Tiki Room. I was not enchanted. I was in PAIN. I needed to leave. I needed to lie down. It was not funny anymore. This was at about 8:30 pm.

We thought we'd be heading out at about 9:30 pm, but it turns out our ride wasn't able to get there until 10:40 pm, so for an added hour and change I was in absolute, dizzying pain. I could not think. I swore uncharacteristically, pissing off my little brother. And after swirling a few sips of water around in my mouth (I was afraid to swallow), I made friendly with one of the sick bags. Needless to say, I was miserable.

On the way home I was able to stretch on the backseat of the car and sleep for a good 45 minutes. Having headed upstairs to call it a night, I find that while I am still sore, I feel relatively okay. I ate a bowl of cereal and drank water just to put something in my system, and everything has thankfully stayed down.

Now the question of the day: what was wrong with me? I really don't know what my body was telling me not to do, but this experience reminded me that sometimes sh*t happens and there is very little you can do about it except cry, swear, and later apologize. Especially with physical activities, sometimes it's going to hurt. The only real bad pain I've had as a result of cycling was when I fell really badly - twice. One time, I'd gone down a steep incline and inadvertently hit the brakes too hard, causing my bicycle to flip out from under me and land on top of me as I skidded down part of the hill. My right hip has two gnarly scars on it, and my abs felt like over-stretched rubber bands. The other spill involved me running off onto the dirt from a pavement path and wiping out like a loser - lovely road rash on my arm, and again the skin on my right hip tore. It was fabulous. Both times I went to work the next day. I really shouldn't have.

Sometimes you need to take a break. I don't plan on getting out of bed tomorrow for anything or anyone. No brunch, no bicycle ride, no nothing. Sometimes you need to exercise your right to chill out. I'm really upset that today turned out the way it did. And that's all I have to say about that.

Happy Earth Day

Did you do anything special this Earth Day?

Last year I totally missed Earth Day. It's only now that I realize that it's Earth Day that I shouldn't have felt as bad as I did. Today I did nothing different than I already do - I rode my bike, I took mass transit, and I walked. I could have been greener, I realize; I could have limited today to just man-powered devices. I'll make a note of that - but for tomorrow, and not merely for Earth Day 2011.

Let's face it - one day will not do much to help with the globe's ailment other than raise awareness and incite good feelings. But, hey, that's the start/furthering of something positive, something proactive. While everyone goes to bed with a smile on their faces knowing they did something to help the state of the Earth, my fear is that things will go back to "normal" tomorrow, and the next day. So, I pose a question to you: what can we do everyday? What can we adjust with the goal of emitting less toxins than we are already? Hell, even if it's not toxins, can we lighten up on the electricity? The water? Admit it; whether reverting to sunlight until 6pm or limiting showers to ten minutes or less, every little bit helps.

Think back to elementary school. I remember my first grade teacher, Miss Pikes, telling us five-year-olds that the plastic rings on six-packs of soda cans can be dangerous to animals. Twenty years later and I'm still snipping each ring before I throw them out. The three R's are now Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, and have been, again, for the past two decades. What do you remember?

So yeah, I didn't do anything different today. Nothing was uncharacteristic; nothing was a chore. Today is Thursday, April 22 - another day in another year. I wouldn't have it any other way.