Au revoir, ma bicyclette

This afternoon I spent four hours dismantling my bicycle and packing it for shipping to Montreal. It will be departing almost two weeks ahead of me. If I had it to do over again I'd just rent a bike when I arrive - it would be much simpler and cheaper. Next time I'll know.

It's partly my own fault, though. I spent so much time comparison shopping that by the time I made a decision about my transport plans, many of the options had changed. For instance, I discovered that just to drive from Ferndale to the Vancouver BC airport, it would cost more than $360 to rent a car large enough to hold a bike shipping box. I ordered the eBike shipping box designed for shipBikes.com, then found out that company doesn't do international shipping. Finally I arranged shipping with BikeFlights.com, but it will cost more than $550 round-trip.

I am pleased with the eBike box, though. The flat sides are extra-thick cardboard, the narrow sides are four layers thick, and it has two parts that fit together like a sideways shoe-box, which doubles the thickness. It's much more substantial than the larger, thinner cardboard boxes used on Amtrak.

This extra-thickness also makes the inside dimensions much smaller than the outside, so fitting my bike into the box took a little more dis-assembly than I expected. I had to remove the wheels, saddle and seat-post, handlebars, pedals, cargo-rack, and the rear derailleur. The front fork and rear drop-outs of my smallish 54cm frame, wrapped in bubble-wrap, press against the box walls. My only real difficulty, though, was getting the pedals off. I put a little solvent on the bolts to loosen them up but it took a lot of muscle and changes of position to get the right leverage. I punched myself in the chin when the right-hand pedal suddenly let go. The left one was easier.

I saw you walking . . .

What is the deal with people saying this?

Usually it's a woman, who kind of sidles up to me and says "I saw you walking yesterday," as if walking on a public street was some very suspect and disreputable activity.

"Yes," I say, trying to remember what I did the day before. "I bought a new toaster. I was walking home from the bus stop carrying my new toaster."

Ruminations

Your next burger?

Somewhere between Ferndale and Lynden last Sunday, I noticed a herd of cows - bulls and steers, beef on the hoof, actually - all clustering in one corner of a field. It struck me funny at first, the way they were all turned nose-in to the corner of the fence, with an acre of lush green grass behind them. But when I stopped to get out my camera, they all turned around and began walking toward me, staring ominously.

I thought of the song "Cows With Guns" and Orwell's Animal Farm, then Hitchcock's The Birds. That movie scared the pee out of me when I was a kid, and this herd started to make me seriously nervous. Strange, the things you find amusing on long rides, and the stuff that drifts through your mind.

I have been riding four to six days a week, building up my distance, to prepare for my vacation. I've also been reviewing my French from last year, though not very regularly or systematically. I do find random French phrases popping into my head while I ride, and sometimes I make a game of naming things, or talking to myself about ordinary day-to-day activities in French while I'm riding.





Riding alone does get to be a drag at times. It's hard to find people who want to ride as far, and as many hours, as I do, who aren't too competitive or too fast for me. I'm looking forward to riding with the tour group, and having someone to chat with, in English or French. I hope I fit in well.

Les Boeufs

It's a little odd that I always make my vacations into some sort of self-improvement trip. I took a week-long vacation to go to bicycle mechanic school, I do fund-raising rides, and now I'm training and studying for a bicycle tour. I can't do silly, hedonistic rest and recreation. I expect my vacations to be life-changing experiences. No wonder I don't travel much.

Well. So.

Regional cuisine

So, after Thanksgiving I took a break from blogging, and from bicycling starting some time around Christmas, until the weather began to improve in March.

What mountain is this?

After I completed my French language class last spring, then rode the RedBell 100 at the end of June, I didn't really have anything planned. Mainly I've been diddling around for the last several months. Trying out some new ventures and interests. Recovering my health, which took a beating during the two years when I was a bicycle-commuting barista at the airport. Getting used to not worrying about money all the time.

Money does not change every thing, I have learned. I'm still the same, still have the same old character faults that always used to trip me up and hold me back. I am a procrastinator and a worrier. I'm wishy-washy and indecisive. I get myself in to a safe, secure rut and hide out there. I'm working on changing that.

I finally signed up for one of the bicycle tours I've been wanting to take for so long, a week-long group tour in Quebec later this summer. I don't want to publish in advance exactly when and where, or all the details of my plans. But I'm back in the saddle, training for the ride, studying the language and the province. Getting moving again.

Change of Seasons

Sun worship! Yes!

For the past two years I've been going to once-a-week yoga sessions which helped me recover from my awful first year in Ferndale, when I was bike-commuting to my coffee shop job at the airport after being evicted from my apartment in Bellingham. I developed walking pneumonia over that winter, too. By the end of the following summer I was thoroughly beat-up, dreading another winter. Yoga and antibiotics got me through. Sadly, the studio closed at the end of September when the teacher/owner had a chance to return to school. (But good for her!)

After a month of trying to practice on my own at home, needing more motivation, I signed up for membership in a gym this month. So far I've been going to yoga classes two or three times a week, with different teachers. I plan to try an indoor-cycling session as soon as I can get myself trained to get up early enough in the morning. I'd also like to have someone show me how to work the cycle, treadmill, and stair-climber machines, and help me with the weights - eventually. Just for more variety and cross-training purposes; I don't want to become fitness-obsessive.

At Monday night yoga class this week we did many, many repetitions of raised arms stretched above the head (extended mountain pose), which isn't too strenuous really, unless you do many, many, many of them, which we did. Plus some side-planks and other shoulder work, so my shoulders, neck and upper back were very fatigued and sore afterwards.

I'd been counting on the sun for a bike ride on Tuesday, Veteran's Day, forgetting that it would also be chilly and windy. I decided to ride to Birch Bay, figuring I would have a headwind to begin with, then a tailwind coming home. Somehow the roads and the wind both twisted themselves around, though, so I only felt mild gusts from the sides and rear on the way out. At the state park I hit very strong headwinds while riding in to Birch Bay Village, but the road there, by the bayside shops and condos, was more sheltered. Riding along the beach was as pretty and sunny as any summer day, but much more brisk and invigorating.

The most powerful headwinds hit as I was riding home, on Kickerville Road and Mountain View Road. On a flat section of Mountain View, a gust of wind almost knocked me off the pavement and into the ditch and I had to stop on the shoulder of the road to wait for the biggest surges to settle. Luckily, the headwinds made the last hill-climb in to town seem easy, or maybe the wind created some sort of up-draft on the hillside. I cruised up easily, only to be slowed by the headwind on the downhill side.

When I got home I was thoroughly chilled, and very stiff and sore in the back, shoulders and neck from the combination of wind, hills and yoga. A long soak in a hot tub seemed like the best remedy, even though I vaguely remembered reading someplace that heat is not good for sore, inflamed muscles or joints. Turns out this is true, although the hot bath did feel good while I was in it. Later on, though, my spine and shoulders were so painful I had to put a cold pack on my back - not the pleasantest feeling on a stormy winter night, but better than the pain. I was stiff and sore all day Wednesday, too. So there's a lesson.

At the railroad crossing on Bay Road, near Kickerville, I had to wait for a long tanker train - BP refinery traffic, I suppose. I didn't count the tanks or time how long it took to pass, but by the time the gates opened there were seventeen cars backed up on my side, and twelve on the other side of the tracks. Rather than add to the delay, I pulled in to a turn-out to let the cars pass first. Just sayin'.

TURN ON YOUR HEADLIGHTS!

Rainy season again. We have a day or two of torrential rain, followed by a day or two of clearing, then another wave of storms comes through. On Friday night, Halloween Eve, the weather cleared long enough for an early evening of trick-or-treating, but the Nooksack River was just short of flooding.

Left Bank

Right Bank

Saturday night was the end of Daylight Saving Time, when we turn the clocks back one hour, to get another hour of daylight in the morning. On Sunday morning I woke up earlier than usual, but confused, thinking it was Monday. But the weather continued dry over the weekend and I got out for 25 mile bike rides both days.

Monday, and it's pouring again. I took the bus to run errands in Bellingham, returning home about 4pm. As I was riding the #27 on Northwest Drive I saw three valiant cyclists heading back to Bellingham, wearing bright yellow rain gear, with bright LED headlights.

Unfortunately, I also noticed about one out of every five cars still driving without headlights on. Pacific Northwesterners typically drive cars in colors that match various types of wet or dry pavement, making them even less visible in gloomy afternoon conditions. It's extra dangerous for a few days, until drivers begin to adjust to the early darkness.

Edifice Complex

More pix from the Museum of Anthropology and University of British Columbia campus.