A Surfeit of Passion

The Passion has Moved!

2010-08-10T14:05:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone. My gallery, website, blog and store are now all in one place: www.Bikechik.com Please update you bookmarks and come over for a visit. All the news about Bike Scribbles and my travels will now be updated there, including the story about this:

Thank you for your readership these past four years. See you at the new place!
-Kathleen

www.Bikechik.com

Bike Scribbles on display in Morro Bay

2010-05-24T13:17:00.000-07:00

Join us for a party...!

Bike Scribbles

and other works on canvas
by
Kathleen King

Artist's Reception 6 pm to 8 pm Thursday May 27th 2010

@ Top Dog Coffee Bar
857 Main Street
Morro Bay CA
map
805•772•9225
310•663•2561

The good folks at Top Dog Coffee Bar have graciously allowed me to adorn their walls for the next month. There are Scribbles of all types and my abstract seascapes as well. Please join us on Thursday evening for Top Dog's famed munchies, signature roasted coffee and local wines. We can all howl as the full moon rises over the central coast. You'll find us in the middle of Main Street in Morro Bay.

You can also find @Topdogcoffeebar and me: @bikechik on Twitter

Other pieces on display at the show:

"CC in Motion" 60"x 36"

"Big Wheel" 24"x 24"

"My Neigh-bor" 24"x 24"

"The Idea Man" 25"x 25"

"Red Ribbon Rider"
symbol for World AIDs Day Ride
18"x 18"

"Spinning A Lot" 25"x 25"

"Wine Country Rouleur" 28"x 28" image for the Great Western Bicycle Rally commemorative wine label bottled by Sylvester Winery, Paso Robles

"April" a seascape in triptych, each panel 36"x 18"

The artist also accepts commissions

A Long Story Chopped Short

2010-05-12T21:42:00.000-07:00

"Yo, Red!"

When I was a baby I had carrot red, bone straight hair. For the first day of kindergarten my mother had it cut in the fashion of the day - the "Peter Pan" cut. The carrot red had darkened. Instead of making friends everyone said I looked like a boy and I went home in tears. I didn't want to go back until it had grown down to my shoulders. It took all the bravery a five-year-old could muster to get on that bus for the second day. By second grade it was long again but somehow wavy and dishwater blonde??? This persisted until...puberty. Something about those crazy hormones. The red magically reappeared. For sixth grade graduation I was a strawberry-blonde frizzball. Thank god Stevie Nicks made this look popular!

I struggled through junior high trying to figure out what to do with it until fate and Mom, again, stepped in. I had to have a major operation on my spine and would need to be in the hospital for a long time. Mom thought a perm would tame the mane and ease the management. It was genius. The frizz went away - FOREVER - and the bramble bush became oodles and oodles of 'cascadading' curls.

When I at last stood upright from my convalescence the compliments began. My hair became my glorious crown. I would get stopped in the street several times a week by strangers "You have such beautiful hair!" they would say. I had to wear a body cast and then brace for a year. High school boys are no more kind than kindergarteners. I had terrible acne for years. But no matter what else went wrong I could always count on The Hair. After each compliment I would always say the same thing: "Thank you very much, but I had nothing to do with it. It's a gift. It just grows."

I had heard of Locks of Love many years ago and stuck it in the back of my head - 'I have to do that one day'. I kept thinking about the little girl who had the gift of The Hair she could always count on until leukemia or some other greedy illness robbed her of her crown. I had to share. But the one trait The Hair lacks is that it does not grow long very well. Locks of Love requires a minimum of ten inches in a ponytail or braid. It would start to get straggly and I'd lose my nerve.

Eight months ago I looked in the mirror and saw - gasp! - a few white hairs growing out from the top of my head. It was now or never. It was of no use to my strawberry sisters if it turned gray.

I have spent more money on conditioner in the last eight months than in any five years of my life. But it was so worth it! The Hair grew long and survived until it was long enough for the ten inch ponytail.

Weird, huh?

My lifelong friend, stylist Karen Mullen of Hair with Flair did the honors and a cute short cut.

I couldn't be happier.

Strawberry Sister, wherever you are, I lend you my crown. Beauty does indeed come from within but your road is hard enough without having to walk it with a cold head. You should have a choice of whether to be bald or not. All philosophizing aside every girl is entitled to feel pretty - whatever pretty means to her. Walk tall.

"Speak in French when you can't think of the English for a thing, turn out your toes as you walk -- and remember who you are!"

- The Red Queen from Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll

My ponytail will not be enough. It takes six to ten ponytails to make one wig. So if you've heard "You have such beautiful hair!" all your life then grow, grow, grow and give! You'll never regret it. And in this day of "going green" what could be a more renewable resource?

Donate Here!

2010 is Dancing on the Pedals from the Starting Line

2010-01-14T00:09:00.001-08:00

In the fall of 2009 my road led back to the Central Coast of California and the little town of Atascadero.

I was met by it's wonderful inhabitants and some of the best cycling terrain I've ever had the pleasure to explore.

With breathtaking scenery on all sides that often had me whispering to myself "I'm soooo lucky!" I set about to regain some of the fitness I'd lost between Interbike and Thanksgiving.

I asked the locals where the main bike shop was and they pointed me in the direction of Kman Cycle and Run. My aging "Fiery Steed" was already having saddle slipping issues. Also, Kman's sister website Team Kman (@teamkman) provided me with a comprehensive list of trail maps incuding mileages that I went to right away to plan my training routes. It was a great way to get acquainted with the area.

My friend Martha VanInwegen (@marthvan) lives in Atascadero and, knowing me, also mentioned that Kman's had a BIG BLANK WALL that might be hungry for a Bike Scribble! Hmmm, do tell!

(photo courtesy of Todd Ventura (@tventura)

Well, I'm a muralist at rock bottom so while I may love to paint on canvas and draw on paper, I pretty much want to put everything I do on a big wall in the open air. Ever since I painted the first Bike Scribble on canvas I wanted to see it on a bike shop wall.

To my surprise, when I met with the owner Keith "KMan" Schmidt and his wife Robyn, they were smitten with the concept straight away. I don't think I've ever seen a project come together more quickly.

Keith "Kman" Schmidt

I chose my colors from the landscape of vineyards, olive orchards, lakes and lavender sunsets.

We met the first week in December and by January 8th the Scribbles were spinning vibrantly on the two story wall and visible from Highway 101. While I wasn't sure why I chose Atascadero for the next chapter when I arrived, now the purpose is absolutely clear.

While there were some grumblings from the city about needing sign permits and such, nothing in that regard has materialized. The City of Atascadero doesn't really have a public art policy or process and we're hoping, now that some redevelopment in the historic downtown area is planned, that public art will be a larger part of those plans.

With any luck this mural is the first of many. The plan is to have a whole peloton's worth of Bike Scribbles on as many LBSs (Local Bike Shop) as will have them, promoting the joy of cycling through public art. I've been talking to bike shop owners in several cities across the country and there is a great deal of enthusiasm for the energetic designs.

In between the brush strokes I've put in some delightful miles over the rolling hills from Atascadero north through Templeton to Paso Robles and west to Morro Bay. There are wineries and wildlife in every direction. The cycling community here is serious, dedicated, warm, wonderful and completely wacko in love with their region. I don't blame them. It's gorgeous here and I've made some great friends.

The Central Coast is Cycling Heaven.

On to the next Bike Scribble!

"@bikechik Thanks for sharing your great passion, inspired by riding through vineyards, indeed, almost a surfeit." -@RandallGrahm President, Bonny Doon Vineyard

A BikeChik Goes to Interbike

2009-10-07T00:59:00.000-07:00

This is the BIG HONKIN' Post-INTERBIKE blog POST. Bikes, bike clothes, bike food, bike art, bike peeps, parties, races, bike dot.orgs 'n' bike stuff. So pull up a very fancy beer, maybe a bowl of pasta, and have a read - this could take awhile...

View from the Voodoo Lounge atop the Rio Hotel

The last time I had been to Las Vegas I was not yet old enough to drink in a bar. My memories of the place are dominated mostly by being gently scooted off the casino floor and back across the invisible line into cafe or restaurant territory. It seemed a cacophonous environment even then and even as a child I knew all those colors did not belong together in the same place at the same time. I remembered that spine melting heat too, standing on the sidewalk thinking any passing breeze could blow me into a pile of dust. I felt then that Las Vegas had an eerie quality of not seeming to be connected to the rest of the world, as if once you got past the mountains you would simply step off into the void. Back then the place was decidedly adult and looked like a place adults went to disappear and forget what day it was. Now it looks like a mutant, make believe play city abandoned by a gi-normous 1500 ft kindergartner under the tree on Christmas morning. Only on this particular week the tree also had a hustling, bustling, very real, mutant dream bike shop under it chock full of shiny new toys!

YEAH!!!
(nice curls too, kid)

Found this little guy cavorting amongst the bikes and around his dad, absolutely giddy with bike joy. I think I can safely speak for everyone I know, we all felt pretty much like him walking onto that show floor.

Damn Straight!

We set off across the desert, Martha Van Inwegen of Action Wipes fame, and I, to secure our respective niches in the cycling world. Best of all we looked forward to connecting with a universe of bike friends most of whom we only knew from social media, especially Twitter, and others we only get to see at race events.

Journos and photogs and podcasters, oh my!

We got down to that immediately the first night at a dinner with mostly media people. It was already fun putting faces and voices to the Twitter names. Among them, Carlton Reid of Bikebiz, David Bernstein of The Fredcast, Jeff Helfand and Gene Hansel from VeloReviews, Brian Hodes of VeloImages, and Markus Neuert of Cyclefilm who we already knew from the Tour of California this past February. Donna Tocci, you were sorely missed!

Martha on a Kona Bandwagon that matches her shirt and toenail polish

The Interbike experience began at the Outdoor Dirt Demo held in Bootleg Canyon. It had wonderful trails both paved and dirt to test bikes of all persuasions so test I did. I decided to focus on the less conventional bikes for blogging purposes. I cannot pretend to be an expert on technical aspects of bikes so I thought it would be more useful if I introduced the casual rider to some of the neato stuff you may not know is out there and available for your riding convenience and pleasure. Of course I brought a decidedly female perspective with me to the desert and allowed the flirty, pretty stuff to catch my eye. There were plenty of charmers.

Dahon Boost electric folding bike

There has been a lot of debate about the why and how of the new electric bikes. Is it almost a motorcycle? Too dangerous for the trail? I'll sum up: No. It's fun. This one folds and is a very pretty burgundy red. Remember I'm an artist. Color is ALWAYS key.

No waiting for you alone in the street, it can come in with you!

Dahon electric folding bike. I was intrigued. I like to ride for fitness, to challenge myself as fast, as far and as high as I can go. I don't need no stinking electric bike! But I'm also very pro bike commute and getting as car free as possible. I have been known to try and haul more groceries than I can safely balance on a regular cruiser. Enter the electric folding bike. If you know your work is not all that far from home and you really could ride the distance easily but think you don't really want to ride back after an eight, nine, ten hour day, this is for you! Say you want a good wake up ride and go on your own steam to the office but want to take it easy and use the motor for the trip home. Maybe it's downhill there and uphill back. If you're like me you want to ease into your day, let the coffee kick in and have a brisk ride back in the evening to shake off the sedentary hours. It's also good for riding to the store sans assist and come back laden using the extra power. The fun thing about this bike is that it can be set to sense your effort and suddenly it'll give you a little 'ziiiiIIP!' just like a giant hand giving you a push. I swear it made me giggle every time. Riding the Dahon folding electric bike actually improved my mood - and who couldn't use that after a long day!

120 lb me lifting bike, back not hurting, bicep barely flexing

Jill Homer

Ever wanted a bike you could ride in the snow? Yep, you read that right. Jill Homer is an amazing cyclist with a rather fantastic lifestyle. She rides the Iditabike. Yes, like the Iditarod, in Alaska through the snow on a BIG FAT TIRE bike called a Pugsley made by Surly. It's also just fun in the sand and dirt. It's very "bouncy trouncy" and surprisingly comfortable. I swear you'll feel invincible on this thing and the best part - you'll feel a little like a cartoon character and totally like a BIG KID! Read Jill's blog. It's a treat and makes you dream of doing something awesome in a faraway place.

Pugsley

Just a little more of "Did you know..." The wind was blowing the sand up hard in the afternoon and I needed a sheltered place to eat my hot dog without a side of dirt. The guys at X Fusion offered me a chair so I queried them about their products. Anthony Trujillo explained that not all mtb forks are born equal. Ever wanted to try out hardcore mountain biking but found the bikes unresponsive to a lighter weight and touch? Well gals can get custom forks and shocks to suit our size and weight and go play in the rocks and mud to our heart's delight and not have to pay for our fun with a tweaked back and neck! Who knew? There is a trail I know in Colorado where this info would come in handy...

Big Tim in his element

When I needed to go out for a nice, long, real ride I went to my friend Tim Jackson at the Masi tent. Now big disclaimer here: Tim is a personal friend so... I asked him for something not too light, not too heavy, tires not too skinny, had to be pretty... He put me on a perfectly lovely steel frame Masi Speciale CX and it gave me a great ride. The day was perfect and the Bootleg Canyon trails were freshly paved. As I got farther away from the demo area I was peacefully by myself and the views of unspoiled desert were breathtaking. Not too hot, enough breeze to keep me cool and I just kept riding over the rolling hills until I poked through a pass and saw the city in the distance.. and turned back. Could've happily stayed out there all day. Thanks Tim.

The Bike Tweetup

Tuesday night saw roughly 200 bike nerds make their mark on the Strip at the Bike Tweetup held at the very posh Lavo restaurant. In case you were hiding under a rock at Interbike and missed it we had big, serious fun and raised over $1500 for Bike MS and Aids/LifeCycle by raffling off some super sweet schwag.

Back to the dirt...

KidzTandem puts the child in front of you where you can see him/her...duh!

I loved seeing this child friendly tandem bike because it always made me nervous seeing small children in seats of any kind on the back of a bike. Thank you KidzTandem!

Bike candy: VP Components pedals, headsets, bottom brackets...and plastic stuff.

Castelli Aero Race bib short...

...and jersey for women - hello!
Had a wonderful chat with Patrick Tess about this outfit and it is yummy. Rumor has it some Bike Scribbles will be showing up on this kit shortly!

How long do you think it took me to home in on this baby?

Prologo Italy, Pucci inspired pattern, Choice DEA Women saddle

Finally it was time to move inside the Sands Convention Center where I made it a point to sample ALL the sports drinks and ALL the nutritional food bars in order to give you all a helpful assessment/my humble opinion of who hit the mark on taste and who did not. Let's face it life is too short to put something that tastes like cardboard in your mouth just because it's supposed to be good for you! And you don't have to.

So here are the best of the best: Luna Bars White Chocolate Macadamia and Cliff Bar Builder's in Lemon the best bar, IMHO, at Interbike. Shout out to Team Luna Chix women's pro team because they rock. Odwalla's bars were Ok but not yummy. Larabar was a little better than Odwalla.

The drink: H2O Overdrive hydration drink. Smells like Flintstones vitamins but tastes...YUMMY! All the other sport drinks I tried had me reaching for a glass of water to wash out the taste. Not even worth a mention. Sorry everybody. maybe it's just me.

Lots of celebs and autograph signing going on
Some guy named Levi Leipheimer signing autographs - very big line for him.

Definitely a girl who kicks ass! Rebecca Much
at the booth supporting World Bicycle Relief "The Power of Bicycles" (Sram cycling fund). Excellent organization! Please check them out.

Liz Hatch at the Lazer helmet booth listens to the cycling version of a fish story.

And then it was time for Cross Vegas!

Men's CycloCross race.
Somewhere out there are friends Carlton Reid and Brian Hodes

Carlton Reid before the race flanked by Martha and Jennifer Sage

Women's CycloCross race.

I don't know how my camera did the ghost thing but all the shots of the women's race were like this. Because all cycling women are simply freaking SUPERNATURAL!

And then...

Sinclair party at the Voodoo Bar on the roof of the Rio Hotel 50 stories above the city.
(see top photo of post for the view)

Now this has historically been a fun event at Interbike but particularly special for me because I got to meet Nelson Vails. If you don't know who this Olympic Silver Medalist is follow the link and get on it.

The photo of me, Nelson, Martha and David Cabanban of Sanyo Eneloop electric bikes taken with Martha's phone in the club

Nelson graciously appointed himself my Sinclair party guide for the night. We danced and drank - a little, Rahsaan Bahati swooped by to say "Hi". We saw George Hincapie holding court. Even ran into Dave Lettieri of Fasttrack Cycles in Santa Barbara! Then Mr. Vails took me past the velvet rope to the table where Oakley was putting together custom pairs of Jawbone shades...

Oakley High Definition Optics - Jawbones - Thank you Nelson
Please also note the lovely earrings made of BIKE CHAIN LINKS! by Kristin Browne of
Missing Link Design

Back to the show floor...

Juicy Woven - I LOVE these panniers!

Detour Sports of Hood River Oregon. These products are so cool in so many ways. Money from Trash is a grassroots effort of several women-owned and operated cooperatives in the Philippines who make products like these seriously beautiful and expertly crafted bike bags from recycled materials. Your purchase of a recycled bag empowers the women who run these cooperatives and their communities. Please follow this link to learn more about the B. Luz Cooperative .

My initial purpose for being at Interbike 2009 was to participate in the Urban Legend Fashion and Art show sponsored by Momentum Magazine, invited by the illustrious Thomas Prehn - who worked his butt off to put the Art part of it together. Thank you Thomas and thank you Rich Kelly - honestly I don't know HOW you do it.

Here we see cycling photographer Carson Blume on the other side of the lense for a change in a dashing urban ensemble, riding a bike that accomodates a massive bucket. Photo courtesy of BikePortland.org

"Spin"
My contribution to the art show

This is what the prep room looked like before the fashion show

Elsewhere in Vegas...

What would Vegas be without hookers?...

...Like Interbike without a rhinestone encrusted bike!
And that, as they say in the Biz, is the "Martini shot"

I found this kid just before the official closing bell of Interbike 2009 - after five long days of tightly organized mayhem - sitting at the bottom of the stairs that lead up from the registration area to the show floor. He looks exactly like we all felt at that point. I took down his name but can't find the card so if he's one of your peeps please leave a note in the comment section and I will credit him properly. I love this industry because it's full of people who love to ride bikes and to all my dear friends with whom I shared the week: Thank You from the bottom of my heart for making it memorable.

See ya all next year!

Bike Scribbles at Interbike!

2009-09-22T10:08:00.000-07:00

I am attending Interbike, the huge cycling trade show, in Las Vegas. I'm test-riding demo bikes, sampling products, meeting tons of people I only know from Twitter and connecting with dear friends. There is a big Tweetup tonight at Lavo in the Venetian at 7 p.m. where, amongst a ton of wonderful raffle prizes, I will be donating a Bike Scribble shirt for the Tweetup charities Aids Life Cycle and the National MS Society. The Bike Scribble paintings including this will be on display at the Urban Legend Art and Fashion Show on the main Interbike show floor at the Sands, Thursday, September 24th 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. Hope to see you there!

The Secret (Food) Garden

2009-08-04T18:40:00.000-07:00

Stepping out my front door in Goleta I pointed myself west and started walking knowing I would come upon a path that led to the beach. The chaparral around the sleepy, windswept dune beaches of Goleta are a maze of dirt paths - and single track for mtbs! So if you keep your eye on the sun they will lead, one way or another, to the shore. As the paved options gave way to the brush I came upon this:

Rather unassuming invitation into the dry grass right?

Wrong. Atop the hill I found paradise.

Food glorious food! Glorious people growing their own food!

Where baby Chinese eggplants come from

Someone is doing something right.
It turned out to be the community garden for the families living in grad student housing at UCSB

A nice place to stop and ponder

Fuzzy squashes

I don't know what these are but they are fantastic. They look like plastic space flowers but they are very real!

Potential

Some are just getting started, thank you

While others are beautifully organized

Gorgeous in every respect

"If I hold very still you won't see me plotting to thieve upon the lovely lettuces."

Hiding in the cool of the Kale

Hallowe'en around the corner!

Sweet peas anyone?

Hummingbirds abound

A seat in the shade of the vines. There are little grapes in there too.

Soaking up the sun

It was hard for me to not steal these - boysenberries, my favorite all time fruit and impossible to find in stores because they are too fragile to ship very far.

Again, don't know what it is besides pretty

Fried green tomatoes?
We too can do this - yes we can!

This is the dream and The Solution...

...To the problem (all in the same shot - look closely above)

The path home. Another day, another blessing.
It gives one hope.
I'll go to the beach tomorrow.

120 lbs. of Stardust

2009-07-30T22:01:00.000-07:00

Mesa Verde - no, it's not a painting

I rode until I found a cool breeze. At last. At last one of the heavy gray clouds had wrestled the sun's grip off the McElmo Valley and bathed the hills and mesas in a gentle cloak of shade. The landscape softened revealing different colors and curves. The air was still warm as breath and dry but the brutal heat had broken. When the sun re-emerged it was as a golden lover with rays that glowed rather than burned. We had earned our right to stay in this valley another day. Paid for with sweat and salt stained skin, siestas, fans and spray bottles, pink foreheads and hiding our cars in the shade. Now the cliffs of Mesa Verde reflected a palette of rose and pink in a lavender sky.

With my tendency toward heat prostration anytime the mercury rises past 85 F I was sure this land would fry my brain like so much albumen on blacktop. But I loved every minute of it. I rode every day near sundown and instead of dying, the dry air seemed to sweat out every drop of venom that the unseen demons of stress had deposited in my blood stream. With each ride I grew lighter. And while the sun did test and menacingly remind me of my mortality (oops, my water bottle is almost empty...!) the colors of the valley walls, the souls of ancient Puebloans whispered healing prayers to me, songs of welcome. I had packed my troubles in my carry-on bag and smiled, but when I came back from my first ride here that bag was empty.

The eldest llama

When I left Cortez the rains were just beginning. The warm air held the sweet, dusky aroma of wet hay - a scent familiar from a handful of childhood summers a lifetime ago. I had been taken to wildflower-lined bike trails high in the hills, hiked through ancient ruins, dined on home cooked cuisine made from vegetables from my friend's garden, watched stars shooting across the milky way every night, and delighted at the sight of every lizard, bird, prairie dog and insect. Sat, breathed in and out and listened to the wind blow.

Happy Trails

The energy of this majestic place would sparkle on my skin all the way home. Thank you Fiona and Steve, Joyce, Carol, Mark, Karen, Dan and Alan. Thank Mr. McElmo whoever you are!

Welcome storm

Fiona contemplating the wisdom of the Anasazi

Me feeling incredibly lucky

Lucy the Border Collie mix puppy

Jimbo from Kokopelli's bike shop who loaned me the mtb

As seen in the yard

The Rock House built into the cliff face

Russian Sage

Hope I can come back one day.

Permission to Pass in Peace

2009-07-24T17:27:00.000-07:00

I don't think they mean bicyclists

A girl really should hop on the back of a motorcycle more than once every five years but every five years is better than nothin'! Today, when I got a chance to ride to Durango with my friend's boyfriend on the back of his Suzuki Vstrom it broke the 5 year drought.

Born to be Wild.

Skimming along the surface of the earth as a passenger exposed to the elements gives a better perspective than as someone at the handlebars or the wheel. In the sparsely populated southwest you can easily see the upheavals of the eons and with much more clarity. One gets the sense that we were indeed strangers here once upon a time, deposited on the surface many thousands of years ago. Perhaps as explorers, perhaps as refugees. We learned to adapt and then to dominate - to our own detriment. It's the prerogative of the Earth whether to embrace us or not, not the other way around. Gliding along at 75 mph, protected merely by some clothing and a helmet one becomes aware of one's own fragility in the landscape. The forest and the cliffs couldn't care less if I go splat. Our lesson, I believe is to learn how to respect Her and live harmoniously with the landscape and each other. We are obliged to behave as guests of our gracious host who has endured us these many thousands of years.

Of course, we are free to build more fiery chariots and bug the hell off to harass any other blue planet we are fortunate enough to find. However, if we try Her patience too long, she will simply rid herself of us by becoming inhospitable.

As I pass Lookout Point on Mesa Verde, renown site of vast Native American ruins, it's easy to imagine the Anasazi performing ceremonies on it's cliff tops. It makes me wonder how many generations it took for us to forget where we came from. Did our ancestors genetically engineer their offspring with whatever Cro-Magnon or Neanderthal species Earth's evolution had produced at the time? Earth's elements are now what make up my existence and all human kind, but the Earth is not a birthright, it is a gift that appeared as a jewel in the blackness of space millenia ago and innocently welcomed weary travelers. Along with the memory of my extra-terrestrial origins I have also lost the ability to imagine any home more beautiful than this.

Ramblings from the lunatic fringe to be sure. Many others have expressed these theories before and far better than I. But these are the things you think about on your first vacation in years while going 75 mph on the back of a motorcycle down hwy 160 in southwestern Colorado.

A Feast With Friends

2009-07-23T18:18:00.000-07:00

The turn of events in Colorado Springs necessitated a spontaneous sojourn to Cortez Colorado to visit an artist friend from Leucadia California. Six years ago Fiona had moved to Cortez and built her own house near Ute Mountain. I love serendipity! Cortez really surprised me. The majestic landscape of the ancient Navajo and Ute people inspires a peace I have not known in a long time. A perfect and most welcome respite for my weary soul. The very breeze is healing. My old friend Fiona is thriving in this land and is an exceedingly gracious host. I'm meeting warm and delightfully vibrant people. I feel so blessed in this place.

Sweet Gary Fisher on loan from Kokopelli's Bike Shop

"Slow Food" from Fiona's garden

Hungry Pest

Road to Utah

Welcome Neighbor

Road to Cortez

Ute Mountain

It is Finished. And it is Varnished!

2009-07-20T00:34:00.000-07:00

It's official

The mural for Carmichael Training Systems in Colorado Springs is complete. Here are the photos and text supplied by Marian Hunting of Women's cycling Magazine. They have put the article on their site with an interview they did with me when I began the project. I will edit this post more after I have had some sleep but couldn't wait to share.

The WHOLE thing

El Diablo terrorizes the leader up Alpe D'Huez

Kathleen King’s Tour de France Mural

Courtesy of Marian Hunting, Women's Cycling Magazine

July 19th, 2009

Kathleen King is a cyclist and an artist who began her career as a muralist in 1983 in San Diego, California. More recently, Kathleen was commissioned by Chris Carmichael to paint an indoor mural for the new Carmichael Training Systems facility. Kathleen began researching her latest project, an 8 foot by 13 foot indoor mural, in January of this year and began painting in March.

Kathleen’s painting is visual representation of the history of the Tour de France with a timeline composed of sunflowers, one for each year of the Tour since it began in 1903, and a peloton composed of all of the 56 Tour winners done in Kathleen’s distinctive scribble style.

At the head of the peloton she painted 8 of the stars of the Tour de France history: Lance Armstrong (1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, & 2005), Miguel Indurain (1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, & 1995) Eddy Merckx (1969, 1970, 1971, 1972, & 1974), Bernard Hinault (1978, 1979, 1981, 1982 & 1985) , Jacques Anquetil (1957, 1961, 1962, 1963, & 1964) Fausto Coppi (1949 & 1952), Gino Bartali (1938 & 1948), and Maurice Garin (1903). Kathleen has also depicted 8 of the popular climbs that are often featured in the Tour (including the Alpe d’Huez), the popular El Diablo, and the celebrated Lanterne Rouge.

Kathleen will be unveiling her latest project at the Grand Opening of the new Carmichael Training Systems facility today. You can follow Kathleen on twitter here, follow her on her blog here, and purchase some of her wearable art here.

I Gotch-yer BIKE SCRIBBLE SHIRTS Riiiight Heeee-yah!

2009-06-21T19:17:00.000-07:00

Otherwise known as shameless self marketing...

At long last the Bike Scribble shirts are available to buy online. They come in three different Scribble designs and many different colors.

This just in: Martha Van Inwegen creator of Action Wipes
brings the golden sun out in Pismo Beach

Here you can see Chris Carmichael proudly wearing the navy blue version. Thanks Chris!

And here is Tim Jackson smiling in his red Bike Scribble shirt while representing Masi at the Amgen Tour of California. Thanks Tim!

A demonstrative Dave Towle was announcing the Amgen Tour of California that day in Solvang so he couldn't put his on but gave me the high sign of approval. Thank you Dave.

Leonard Basobas of The Triple Crankset - uber cycling blog - looks sharp in green as he tirelessly covers the Paso Robles stage of ATOC. Thank you Len!

At the risk of being obnoxious, here's that link to the online store again:
BUY HERE

So far you can get them in green, maroon, blue, navy, red, purple and maillot jaune gold. There are more folks out there who have the prototype shirts (and you know who you are) so I will be posting those photos soon. Truly, everyone thank you for your support in this little endeavor and thank you for reading this shameless piece of advertising.

Go Here!

This just in! Behold fabulous Miss Kris "K2" Keim rockin' her maroon sleeves. Thank you Kris! Once again, I love the internet!

Just transmitted across the Atlantic, Carlton Reid author of The Bike to Work Book in the Scribble and on his mtb! SWEET! Thanks Carlton. Have a great ride in the English countryside.

Communicado

2009-06-11T16:32:00.000-07:00

Busy Busy Busy...

I've been out of touch...for awhile...working on a mural... about the Tour de France for Chris Carmichael's new training facility in Colorado Springs, "Carmichael Training Systems". The opening gala is on June 19th and I am working feverishly here:

with my faithful sidekick Eli in tow:

And it's looking something like this:

And this:

The grand opening for the public is on June 20th.

I am in a massage coma a the moment thanks to CTS' wonderful staff massage therapist Charissa and thankful for spell check but there will be more photos and details soon.

If you are looking for SCRIBBLE SHIRTS please click.

It's Raining Champagne in California!

2009-02-23T10:36:00.000-08:00

Frank Schleck crosses the line to win stage 8 of the Amgen Tour of California

Record crowds lined the roadside over the 9 days of ATOC. Epic stages. World class racing. Wonderful memories. Cycling is made up of really exceptional people. Made a ton of new friends. There is so much more to tell but I had the good fortune to wind up at the AAA party: Amgen, AEG and Astana! And I simply need more sleep!

Levi Leipheimer makes it Three

And the champagne melée ensues

Silver Spirit

2009-01-10T01:09:00.000-08:00

While on a ride toward Ventura today I saw an older woman approaching me, going the opposite direction on the other side of the road. She had short gray hair, appeared to be in her late fifties and couldn't have been more than 5' 2". But she weighed about 185 lbs. She was riding a hybrid, had on a good quality helmet, sport shades, and a smile on her face. There were big rolls of fat everywhere, but she didn't care. She had on a heather gray ensemble: bike shorts, tank top and a little matching jacket tied around her waist. As she passed she gave me a broad smile and a smart, sharp nod of the head. I nodded and smiled back. She was confident and happy, not huffing and puffing, or self conscious. It would have been easy to hide, sit on the couch feeling old and making excuses. But not her. Fat be damned! She was on the bike and getting fit with the sun on her skin. I LOVE that! Whoever you are, you go Girl! See you on the road.

Bike: 1
Couch: 0

The Comeback Trail

2009-01-03T23:23:00.000-08:00

We're going to play a little game called "find the bike or cyclist in this picture". I didn't plan on it but there were so many cyclists training on this road I just went with it. There's one in about every other shot.

Click on the photos to enlarge and they'll be easier to see.

The subtitle of this blog is: "It's All Terrifying and it's All Beautiful". Never before have I witnessed a scene that exemplified that sentiment so well as what I am about to show you. As many of you know the neighborhoods around East and West Mountain Road in Santa Barbara were laid waste by the Tea Fire. That road is the way to the infamous "beyond category" 3,998 ft alt. hill climb simply known as "Gibraltar Road" and therefore a favorite haunt of cyclists including myself.

I watched as the 300 ft flames climbed into the sky that night and roared, fast, ferocious and deadly down the hillsides, whipped by 70 mph winds. I prayed for the people in those houses. "Run! Get out!" I whispered under my breath. When the fires had all been put out I made a point to ride up to that area on the days that followed, my goal being this:

What had happened to the art collector with the sculpture garden and the cyclist fashioned into a mailbox? I had to know. It took over a week to get there. Edison crews pulled the barricades back a block at a time as they replaced the torched telephone poles.

Here he is today:

As I rode past driveways I knew well I saw instead the houses that high hedgerows had hidden, now reduced to smoking ruins. The air was still oppressive, the smell of smoke filling my nostrils. I rode slower and slower and slower... I couldn't take my eyes off the blackened smoldering hillsides, the trees, the mailboxes, the twisted metal and wire of all the things that days before had been an everyday part of someone's home.

No time to get the mail.

This bike tried to run from the fire by climbing a tree.

I wasn't alone. There were other cyclists and motorists and joggers. We all had the same look on our faces. The way people look at a wake for a child. All I could think about was how horrific that night must have been, to be trapped in one of these canyons. I could see how the hungry fire had fingered through the creek beds like a thief, torching the trees from underneath, curling up the embankments to devour everything. The power had gone out shortly after the fire had started. No light to gather your belongings, children, pets. No street lamps to show a way through the thick smoke. The few narrow roads out must have been chaos. I have never been filled with such sorrow simply looking at a landscape. On the first trip I couldn't take any photos. I would raise my camera and slowly lower it back down and turn it off. The camera couldn't see the way it felt. I slogged back the way I came and didn't pick up my pedal stroke until my path was greener and I was beyond the burn zone.

I resolved to return and document, document, document. When I did I began to see such beauty. Cast-iron black trees against blue sky and chocolate earth. A thousand shades of umber, sienna and rust. Then on the last trip... GREEN! Like a fresh splash of cool life on the eyeballs, NATURE was coming back. And that made it even more beautiful. I wish I was more of a photographer with a proper camera and lenses because I can't hope to do it justice. My friend Carson Blume, cycling photographer, is sick this week otherwise I would have got him up here. I hope you get the idea anyway.

Green

Remember Christo? The artist who wrapped an island in pink plastic? I know it's hard to see but this is an entire hillside wrapped in burlap. It looks so surreal up close and it's BIG.

More burlap hill
(see tiny cyclist?)

A sculpture I could not see before because it was beyond the gate, obscured by trees.

Kind of proud of my calves these days. They're not massive or anything but I've always had trouble growing them and for me they are huge. Thanks for reading and Enjoy your rides!

'Tis the Season to be Jolly!

2008-12-24T20:08:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas,
Happy Hanukkah,
Joyous Chrismakkah
and
Happy Festivus for the Restuvus.

Wishing us all silent nights on a peaceful Earth with good will and equal rights for all.
Can I get an AMEN!

Peanut butter dark chocolate kiss cookies

Be good to each other

Adam Sandler's original Chanukah Song, recorded in Chicago no less. Word up.

Cantus' Stille Nacht. Simply stunning. If you want to be blown away, listen.

"Idle" Chatter

2008-11-20T22:53:00.000-08:00

Breaking news:

Bike Scribbles Cross Atlantic!
"City Cruise"

While I can't believe I'm saying this I must admit I am thoroughly smitten with Twitter. At first it seemed like just another techno-gizmo time suck:

"What are you doing right now?"
"Chewing on my pen cap. You?"

Honestly, who among us is moment-to-moment fascinating like, say, Lance Armstrong (who is, you guessed it, also on Twitter. No really, it's him)? Certainly not I.

But I gave it a couple of weeks and POW it started to work its magic. I now swear by it as one of the most brilliant networking tools in existence. I've started meeting all kinds of local creative people and bike people as well as reaching all the way across the US and the Atlantic. Which brings me to the point of this post: The Bike to Work Book by Carlton Reid and Tim Grahl.
One night I was reading the Twitter roll and saw that a British man I knew only from his internet efforts in the cycling world was asking for Americans to look over the rough draft of his new book and make constructive comments. While just breakfast time in the UK it was the wee hours of the morning here so I think I was one of the very few Yanks still awake at the time. I offered and he sent me the pages in an email. Along the way he mentioned that he had seen my website and liked my artwork. Then I had an idea. I sent over a bike Scribble and made a suggestion. Long story short, he accepted. I drew some custom scribbles and in really a head-spinning short time - TA DA! The book is almost here and my Scribbles are part of it!

It is a very timely volume indeed. The perfect manual if you want to sock it to Big Oil in style. Fun to read, energizing and packed with information, these guys have covered every possible question. I've learned several things about biking that I didn't know before and learned about some really cool products that assist in making bike commuting a breeze. And those are from just the first few chapters. The only downside is that when you're done with the read you will be plum out of excuses to drive a car for much of anything!

I am intensely proud of being involved in this project. Carlton Reid is a really good guy (with an amazing 11-year-old cycling son Josh, by the way). I hope this book gets all the smashing success it deserves. Do check the link for a preview and you can leave comments if you like as well. I've never seen an author so gracious about getting critiqued!

Many thanks to Donna Tocci, Tim Jackson and Kris Keim for coaxing me into this fine pot of jam! And thanks to photographer Carson Blume for the digital assistance.

"Zoomin' Through"
© Kathleen King 2008

The "Wait" is Beginning to Lift

2008-11-08T22:44:00.000-08:00

It's a sunny day at the beginning of the Obama Era...

"Unfinished Flag of the United States"

Lawrence Ferlinghetti
George Krevsky Gallery

Warning: You are about to see poetry. But not just any poetry, one of the greatest American Postmodernist poems ever written. Don't be afraid. I promise it won't kill you.

In the streets, the shops and on the web it feels like the dawning of a new age. Now I know this man will be just a president and a president is just a man - who needs a congress, a senate and corporate America to cooperate with his vision. Not only that, he will be a president who inherits a generation of troubles to solve. Four years is such a little time. And we'll all need a lot of meditation, good vibrations and old fashioned prayer. But the People! The spirit of the American People is hopeful and excited and able to dream again about being 'the shining city on the hill'.

All my life I had read this poem in a mood of angst and irony. It is one of my top three most favorite. Today I read it and felt for the first time that maybe for some things the wait would soon be over. Please give it a chance and try to get all the way to the end. I hope you will get something from it and maybe love it as I do.

First published in A Coney Island of the Mind by Lawrence Ferlinghetti in 1958.

I Am Waiting

I am waiting for my case to come up
and I am waiting
for a rebirth of wonder
and I am waiting for someone
to really discover America
and wail
and I am waiting
for the discovery
of a new symbolic western frontier
and I am waiting
for the American Eagle
to really spread its wings
and straighten up and fly right
and I am waiting
for the Age of Anxiety
to drop dead
and I am waiting
for the war to be fought
which will make the world safe
for anarchy
and I am waiting
for the final withering away
of all governments
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder

I am waiting for the Second Coming
and I am waiting
for a religious revival
to sweep thru the state of Arizona
and I am waiting
for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored
and I am waiting
for them to prove
that God is really American
and I am seriously waiting
for Billy Graham and Elvis Presley
to exchange roles seriously
and I am waiting
to see God on television
piped onto church altars
if only they can find
the right channel
to tune in on
and I am waiting
for the Last Supper to be served again
with a strange new appetizer
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder

I am waiting for my number to be called
and I am waiting
for the living end
and I am waiting
for dad to come home
his pockets full
of irradiated silver dollars
and I am waiting
for the atomic tests to end
and I am waiting happily
for things to get much worse
before they improve
and I am waiting
for the Salvation Army to take over
and I am waiting
for the human crowd
to wander off a cliff somewhere
clutching its atomic umbrella
and I am waiting
for Ike to act
and I am waiting
for the meek to be blessed
and inherit the earth
without taxes
and I am waiting
for forests and animals
to reclaim the earth as theirs
and I am waiting
for a way to be devised
to destroy all nationalisms
without killing anybody
and I am waiting
for linnets and planets to fall like rain
and I am waiting for lovers and weepers
to lie down together again
in a new rebirth of wonder

I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed
and I am anxiously waiting
for the secret of eternal life to be discovered
by an obscure general practitioner
and save me forever from certain death
and I am waiting
for life to begin
and I am waiting
for the storms of life,
to be over
and I am waiting
to set sail for happiness
and I am waiting
for a reconstructed Mayflower
to reach America
with its picture story and tv rights
sold in advance to the natives
and I am waiting
for the lost music to sound again
in the Lost Continent
in a new rebirth of wonder

I am waiting for the day
that maketh all things clear
and I am waiting
for Ole Man River
to just stop rolling along
past the country club
and I am waiting
for the deepest South
to just stop Reconstructing itself
in its own image
and I am waiting
for a sweet desegregated chariot
to swing low
and carry me back to Ole Virginie
and I am waiting
for Ole Virginie to discover
just why Darkies are born
and I am waiting
for God to lookout
from Lookout Mountain
and see the Ode to the Confederate Dead
as a real farce
and I am awaiting retribution
for what America did
to Tom Sawyer
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder

I am waiting for Tom Swift to grow up
and I am waiting
for the American Boy
to take off Beauty's clothes
and get on top of her
and I am waiting
for Alice in Wonderland
to retransmit to me
her total dream of innocence
and I am waiting
for Childe Roland to come
to the final darkest tower
and I am waiting
for Aphrodite
to grow live arms
at a final disarmament conference
in a new rebirth of wonder

I am waiting
to get some intimations
of immortality
by recollecting my early childhood
and I am waiting
for the green mornings to come again
youth's dumb green fields come back again
and I am waiting
for some strains of unpremeditated art
to shake my typewriter
and I am waiting to write
the great indelible poem
and I am waiting
for the last long careless rapture
and I am perpetually waiting
for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn
to catch each other up at last
and embrace
and I am awaiting
perpetually and forever
a renaissance of wonder

-Lawrence Ferlinghetti

San Francisco's Poet Laureate and co-founder of City Lights Booksellers and Publishers was born in Yonkers, New York on March 24th 1919. Ferlinghetti, who is also known for his activism, essays and painting, has often been considered a Beat poet though he doesn't consider himself one. Located in San Francisco's North Beach district, City Lights Publishing is most noted for publishing the controversial and legendary Howl by Allen Ginsberg. Ferlinghetti was then famously charged and tried for violating obscenity laws, then acquitted. At age 89 Lawrence Ferlinghetti is still writing, touring, traveling and speaking his mind. His voice and life are heroic and he is one of the greatest artists and Americans this nation has ever produced.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

about to sign my copy of Americus, Book I at D.G. Wills Books in
La Jolla, CA
2005

Happy Happy Joy Joy

2008-11-04T20:41:00.000-08:00

OBAMA WINS!!
IN
LANDSLIDE

I am proud to be an American!

BOO!

2008-10-31T19:31:00.000-07:00

HAPPY HALLOWE'EN!

Ha HA HAAAA!

WowEEE

Yikes

Awwwww!

Ooooooooh

TeeHeeHee

SHARK!

Ooops, too late

Mmmmm, fresh pepitas!

Hope y'all have fun!

IT'S A SIGN!

2008-10-29T00:12:00.001-07:00

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all..."

And the signs are everywhere.

Signs of intelligent life.

On my last few bike rides through the tree canopied byways of Montecito I have included a little game: counting political posters and bumper stickers. The unofficial tally is roughly 20 to 1 in favor of Obama/Biden over the Republican ticket. So I have decided to honor these brave souls with a gallery of gates. Hopefully it will gladden your heart as it has mine.

Here in front of a very modern Frank Lloyd Wright sort of design

Now why should these displays be so noteworthy? Well, if you haven't heard, the community of Montecito is not merely one of the wealthiest in California, or the US, but in the world. This is the land of estates, acreage, the loooooong driveway/private road and the solemn guard gate. Big, huge, sexy, MONEY by the bushel-basketful . Entry level home ownership starts at $3 mil. This should be a Republican stronghold. Not only that, but this idyllic enclave has a reputation for being reclusive, exclusive, tight lipped and PRIVATE with a 'talk to the intercom' sort of attitude. To declare one's political leanings with a yard sign, especially those that proclaim 'we don't fit the mold' is downright radical. So how can I help but celebrate them!

Atop a loooooong hedgerow

Many of the homes have put out great Halloween decorations

Though hard to see, this is a very handsome gate

One for the road

Oh, one more. I tell ya they just keep comin'!

For those that may think the revelation of my own choice for 2008 here on my blog a little imprudent, I think that cat was already out of the bag. I'm an ARTIST. My clients probably suspect I'm a raving liberal. I'm waiting for November 4th like a four-year-old waits for Santa Claus.

Last but certainly no less important, the signs for equal rights
NO ON PROP 8! Gay and Lesbian couples should KEEP their right to marry.

You have to love these people. These two photos are of the same property.
They used the "No On Prop 8" signs like landscape décor.

This entry boasted no affiliation whatsoever buts earns a place because they grow amazing hydrangeas and I know the kids will love it on Friday night

Whatever you believe, with all my heart I HOPE you get out there next Tuesday and vote.

An update on my tasty critter friends whose numbers are rapidly dwindling nationwide as I write.

Goodbye Mr. Orange Halloween Edition Hippo (or is that a rhino?)!

Smile, darn ya, Smile!

2008-10-15T16:07:00.001-07:00

Urban Wildlife

"Hand over the Mother's Circus Animal Cookies or you'll never see Eli again!"

Mr. Raccoon here, whose lovely wife was behind him in the dark, is as big as the average footstool - about 3x the size of my cat.

Endangered Species

For those of you who don't know (too bad if you don't care; you're out numbered) Mother's Cookies of Oakland California has shut it doors FOREVER which means NO MORE pink rhino cookies, or blue camels, or red lions, or orange elephants with sprinkles! Waaaaah!

crustulum matris bestia circus (leo) rufus

crustulum matris bestia circus (camelus) peteulanus

Women weeping at the Palace of Fine Art at the thought of a world without Mother's Cookies.

The long silence simply means that my head has been preoccupied with empire building, which has hit a few snags of late. But I refuse to accept any reality other than "onward and upward"!

There has also been a lot of cycling my butt off.

Ascending great heights.

And working on my little illustration-esque tarot designs and putting them on canvas.

Eli is making new friends and sending the local rodents to their 'great reward' even without the majority of his teeth.

I've learned a lot about adaptation and perseverance from that little furbrain!

How does the bumble bee fly? Because it thinks it can. BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ!

Over, under, around or through, we will get there.

WooHoo!!

2008-08-01T14:32:00.000-07:00

Tim "Masiguy" Jackson comes full circle!

He took his first RIDE on a BIKE since the crash TODAY! Thanks to Donna T. (who got the scoop on me) YAY TIM! Cheers for you!

Watch the video:

http://masiguy.blogspot.com/2008/08/first-friday.html

Glorious!

2008-07-18T13:02:00.000-07:00

The anointed one, Mark Cavendish (Team Columbia) makes it four in the 13th stage of Le Tour de France, flanked on his right by 2nd place Robbie McEwan (Silence Lotto) and on his left by 3rd place Romain Feillu (Agritubel).
The world is his oyster.
photo: Graham Watson for Velonews

4!

Eyes on the prizes
photo: AFP, Road Bike Action
video on Versus

Congrats Cavendish! (or, take that, ToC)

2008-07-09T11:33:00.000-07:00

Yeah Sweetheart, you really did just win stage 5 of Le Tour de France!
photo: AFP

Mark Cavendish, the "Manx Express" has won stage five, the longest stage of Le Tour de France, 232km from Cholet to Chateauroux. Hopes were high after his brilliant performance winning two stages of the Giro d'Italia and now his place in history is assured. The new-to-the-Tour, Team Columbia has made their 'mark' on this tour indeed. I guess we'll have to stop calling them "team boring kit". Champagne all around!

After stage six of the ToC (and before the disqualification decree),
Mark is interviewed by Bob Roll. You can also see the fabled Graham Watson over Mark's shoulder.
photo: Kathleen King

I'll never forget the confusion after stage six of the Tour of California as throngs of press and officials milled around for twenty minutes waiting for the decision that Cavendish would be stripped of his breathtaking stage win on a technicality. Well, take that ToC, this kid's got wings on his feet. It's a great year to be Mark Cavendish. Go Baby Go!

...and we're Back!

2008-07-05T17:35:00.000-07:00

C130

Note the homes at the bottom of the frame

note: My camera has a problem with the protective shutter getting stuck so some shots have black corners.

The hills are still burning in Goleta (north of Santa Barbara) and even more residents, thousands now, have been evacuated from their homes. Some of the residents were allowed back in to Old San Marcos road yesterday 'at our own risk'. I took the opportunity to station myself on the ridge above our neighborhood to witness the heroic firefight that kept the fire from our back door. I was by no means alone. many news vans were parked down the hill and I was passed by five engine companies. Soon after I got there, "Rocky" the chief of our San Marcos Volunteer Fire Department, pulled up in his rig to spot and relay information. Several of the firemen who are residents of the Trout Club had tales of many wildfires that had threatened and burned homes several times in years past. We all watched the flames rise and fall in a tense but stoic mood lightened by the driest of humor.

"Rocky"

Rocky's rig

I cannot begin to adequately describe the skill and bravery of the pilots who pummeled these hillsides dropping load after load of water and retardant. Between my proximity to the flames and all the military aircraft in the sky I felt like a war correspondent. I kept hearing The Ride of the Valkyries in my head. I could hear the flames roar and crackle like an angry beast from hell, feel the heat, smoke, and rumble of engines and propellers. And then the wind came up, in 40 mph gusts; that's strong enough to sting your face and make you lose your footing. From the very beginning of this event we have been at the mercy of these evening "sundowner" winds.

Aerial Acrobatics
The larger craft are led out by smaller spotter planes

The Beast

S20 (?)

Firefighters and news crews assembled at the gates of hell

On the drive to the hotel July 4th

July fourth fortunately ended with a respite and a different kind of red glow. Cathy Mehl of USCyclingReport.com, (also an evacuated hill dweller) invited me out to a party on her friend's boat in Santa Barbara Harbor for the fireworks show. Being new in town and having only got the last truckload of belongings moved in last week, packing up to evacuate just seemed a discouraging bridge too far. Plus it's exhausting to be on red alert in your mind and soul for 36 hours even when you don't move your body all that much. Good food, dark beer and cheering for the glittering sparkles overhead, surrounded by the cool ocean breezes were just what I needed.

Like another world
the fireworks over Santa Barbara Harbor

Unofficially out of immediate danger (and unofficially back in my crib) I can hear the men yelling on the lines, choruses of chainsaws and massive water tanker helicopters flying overhead as they turn around and head back to the latest drop zone a few miles to the west... My thoughts are with all the Goletans to the west and south because the fire is heading their way. At this writing the few puffs of smoke that I saw driving home on July 1st has now grown to more than 6,600 acres.

The hillside today - July 5th

CNN (getting live coverage of a charred hillside...)

Trout Club Cheek

a couch, I'm guessing positioned by Jan and Rocky for comfortable conflagration viewing during the night shift watch

correction: it has since been discovered that Jan and Bob were responsible for the couch and are up there again this evening... fire has now consumed over 9,000 acres...

I can't wait for that first blessed bike ride (tomorrow?!) I did get to see the first stage of the 'Tour DAY Frantz' at the hotel - yes, even with all this my concern over tv access for today never left my mind. Cathy was equally concerned. She wanted to be able to catch it live at 5:30 a.m. We bike nerds are all completely mental I tell you. Certifiable!

and all is well

evening addition: To the tall, handsome men of engine co. #5 from San Gabriel who are keeping watch over our canyon tonight - thanks boys. Your broad smiles and shoulders reassure me we're in good hands. Ahhh firemen, as always they do the human race proud!

THE NEW HOTNESS

2008-07-03T17:21:00.000-07:00

View from the deck to the west

View to the south

NBC national news trucks are stationed 1/8th mile down the slope from my house... Our area is under evacuation warning. They say the "Gap Fire" has #1 priority in the state because of its proximity to homes. It has been suggested that the fact that Arnold Schwarzenegger has a house near here doesn't hurt... Well, my bike is in the truck... Eli and his "Cat Cab" are where I can see them.

For a more comprehensive account of the situation please see fellow Santa Barbaran Marco Fanelli's blog. It's packed with photos and facts. S'mores anyone?

SOLSTICE

2008-06-22T01:45:00.001-07:00

If you're going to do the recumbent thing I say go with the pinwheels, the rainbow whirly-gigs, dress in an Elmo suit and for chrissakes put some gold fluffy stuff in your wheels!

At the beginning of June everyone I met in Santa Barbara started talking about "Solstice". "You're going to Solstice aren't you? Everyone goes to Solstice - It's THE thing!" Well I couldn't believe that any one event/parade could be such a big deal but they were right. Solstice is a tremendous deal in Santa Barbara. I'm sure people are already planning their floats and costumes for next year.

It draws nearly the ENTIRE town - over 100,000 attend every year. The route travels for about a mile up the main drag, State Street, a gentle incline the whole way. One of the rules for this parade is every entry must be human powered only - no motors. The unspoken rule is: half naked is better! A woman in the crowd told me that in the early days there was a lot more nudity but they've toned it down recently.

The whole parade makes a turn at the mile mark that lands the whole glittery, undulating celebration by flooding into Alameda Park. There awaits a tie-dyed, new age, beaded, braided, fringed, face-painted, dread-locked, didgeridoo playing, peace nicked, tree hugging, hippie love fest extravaganza that would make Jerry Garcia shed a tear of joy. And they sell imported beer! It was so, like, conscious and metaphysical and creative and free. If you didn't know you were in California you sure as align-my-chakras know it now!

It really struck me how the whole city came out for this from every walk. I even saw elderly couples in druid-style forest spirit masks, men and women with flowers in their hair. It was beautiful, every bit of it. Like Jimi said: "I'm gonna wave my freak flag high." And Santa Barbara will welcome you if you do.

I focused on anything bicycle in keeping with our theme here. The theme of the parade, however was: "Solar Flair". Go put on some tie dye, assume your favorite yoga position and enjoy.

This stilt walker...I'll call him Father Rainbow Flowers, was going along blessing the crowd.

This is a guy named Bryan and his killer red Monster Cruiser, or was it Mega Cruiser?
The heat has made me forgetful.

This thing, whatever it is, was just so pretty.

Obviously all the triangles were painted by children.

Solstice Trike - Yeeeeaahh Dude!

Lots and lots of twirling people. Lots.

And hula hooping and drumming.

Terrific, wonderful, irresistible drumming throughout.

This is actually a homeless man who had decorated his bike for the occasion.
I found that very touching.

And speaking of incredibly cute kids.

My favorite by far. Is this not an awesome dragon?

And remember: human powered - check out the guy pushing it all the way UP State Street. Temps were in the 90s today.

This was hilarious. It's a shark ("landshark"). It belongs to a float with mermaids and a fishing boat. The shark chases the mermaids and spectators around only he did it like a bull fighter. He would chase then back off, pretend he wasn't interested and then lunge at you.

Because everyone needs a gold pyramid on casters, to, ya know, channel energy
or be a beacon for aliens, or...?

Many colorful hats

Of course Pharaoh has something to do with solstice!
Ancient Egyptians worshiped the sun god Ra - and he road a bike too!

Me.

I brought my own seating arrangements as you can see.

The finale

(I had to move out of the sun as my shoulders were frying like a potato chip).

It's a big inflated sun and if you look closely there is a girl in the middle dancing on a pole... yeah you read right.

There was also a very beautiful, Polynesian-looking young woman wearing nothing but a tiny silver g-string and a pair of tiny white floral pasties blowing on a conch shell and jumping up and down, but I decided to spare you men the trauma of such an image.

editor's note: to those of you who flocked to this blog in search of pictures of the nearly naked girl in pasties...PSYCH!

...and all the village danced, drank mead and enjoyed life on into the night until the sun rose up again.

Say Something!

2008-06-19T21:30:00.000-07:00

Eli on the slab

Ok. Something. Please forgive the long absence. I still have nothing exciting or particularly clever to write but, death before blog idleness. My new environment is proving to be capricious indeed. Three weeks ago I was lighting fires in the potbellied stove morning and evening and now it's 95 at midday. At this writing, 8:30-ish it's still 85. But it's a dry heat! Typing at the keyboard inspires sweat. Mostly one just lies still, or runs down to the coast where it's still hot but pleasant. I've been getting in some great rides up the big hill and along the foothill routes. But not these past two days. Don't want to cook my brain. Much of this wooded enclave is still a little 19th century and setting up reliable internet connections is a royal pain in the butt. I'm currently "poaching" a signal to blog while I wait for newly ordered gizmos to arrive.

Speaking of butts and bicycles, my greatest compliment this month came from my new massage therapist (Saint) Jacob who informed me that it wasn't the painting position that had tweaked my lumbars but the fact that muscles in my butt were growing so fast from the sprinting I've been doing that my lower back couldn't balance them and gave up. HA! My back is tweaked from my massive, hard-training cycling muscles! Badge of courage. I know K2 will have something Pilates-wise to say about this...

My one pro cycling comment: Amgen in bed with ASO - Hmmm....

Kudos go out to Liz for moving her blog to Missing Saddle. And Tim for his sweet gig on Velonews' At the Back page, and Len because his writing is just consistently so damn good!

I just brought my cat up from cool, coastal Del Mar to his new home in the sweltering hills. Poor thing must think he's being tortured and that I don't like him. And now for your moment of Zen:

Eli on the rock - so glad I don't have fur

I promise something more interesting, clever and/or deep and bike related when I can get my computer down off the stack of pillows by the window and onto my desk where I can THINK!

To all my dear friends who are gleefully getting marriage licenses this week and making hasty plans to tie the knot before friends and family, a tearful and exulted CONGRATULATIONS! It's been a long road.

Yay Doug and Perry!

Peace and Love, Y'all.

Mothers Daze

2008-05-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

I have two moms. Extraordinarily they are both named 'Katherine', only one actually spelled it "Kathryn". My adopting mother, Katherine, passed on some years ago to the great Department of Pre-Columbian Studies in the sky. I'm certain she's savoring spicy hot cacao with real Aztecs, Mayans, Olmecs and Toltecs. They're discussing how the Nazca Lines were made in languages that haven't been heard in thousands of years. Heck she's probably talking to the very people who made the Nazca lines! Anthropologist's Heaven. This would please her very much.

We always used to say that Mom had been a Mayan or some such in a past life. She used to have dreams of being chased barefoot into the jungle by Europeans. She was the first person to explain to me what the Colonialists really did to the indigenous peoples they "discovered".

I can picture her now wearing a cape of brightly colored feathers from birds long since extinct, twirling her skirts, dancing barefoot to flute music and having A BALL!

My biological mother Kathryn Garfinkel should be about 63 now. I wish I knew as much about her as the other Katherine, but alas we parted when I was brand new. Wherever she is she should know that her red-headed baby girl is doing just fine... and misses her... and hopes she has found a good life... Especailly on Mother's Day.

A Happy Cinco de Mayo Indeed!

2008-05-05T15:57:00.000-07:00

Tim Jackson is getting sprung from the hospital today. He says he can feel and wiggle his right thumb and the doctors are satisified with his ability to negotiate the stairs on crutches enough to let him go home! Way to celebrate the new moon in Taurus. Rock and Roll Masiguy!

A Smile is Worth a Thousand Words

2008-05-03T14:28:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Blue Squirrel we have a happier image of Tim. He's on the mend! Let's hope this posts correctly as I'm not on my own computer at the moment. Please see Blue Squirrel's blog for more comprehensive updates. Thanks again to practically the entire internet bike universe for all the global blog love!

Update for Masiguy

2008-05-01T23:30:00.000-07:00

Sorry folks, can't seem to get this to save properly:

Addition #5 An unfortunate update to report. I spoke to Tim this evening and the word has come back on his knee. It is fractured in two places and he will not be able to put ANY pressure on it for twelve weeks. That just sucks. As one of those people who believes there is always good to be derived from any situation I am amazed at how people are coming together and connecting over this incident. Tim Jackson brings people together. It's one of his gifts. Folks are looking at this blog from Chile to China, India to New Zealand and everywhere in between. The story and pictures have been repeated on ten other blogs that I know of. I've been sharing all the stats with Tim. It's astounding. Gives one hope for the planet. Tim will heal it's just going to take longer than we first thought. Hmmm, I wonder, how will Masiguy use that time? Thanks for all the great comments.

Let The HEALING Begin!

2008-04-30T19:17:00.000-07:00

As you may already know Tim "Masiguy" Jackson the maestro of bike-blogging took a pretty bad spill at the San Diego Velodrome last night. He hit the boards at about 30 mph trying to avoid another rider. He was on a brand new bike, 24 laps into a 25 lap race... He sustained a concussion, a broken rib and nearly severed his right thumb clean off. At the moment he has a blood clot behind his left eye and three cracked vertebrae in his neck - hence the neck brace - which they say he'll have to live with for the next six weeks. We are waiting for the results of a cat scan to determine the condition of his right knee...

Unbelievable as it sounds they expect to have him standing upright, at least a little bit, later this evening. I got to meet Masisister, Masimom and Masistepdad all at his bedside. Jill from Haro was there as well when I left. Tim is in remarkably good spirits though hurting more he said than he's ever hurt in his life. Not surprising. He has his very own morphine drip control which makes him smile. The thumb has been successfully reattached. I saw him eat food, with lots of assistance from the nurse, with my very own eyes. He's HUNGRY and that's good. It is the beginning of a long road but our man is gonna make it I'm certain!

He's at Scripps Mercy Hospital in San Diego rm# 1024. Please see Blue Squirrel's blog for more info on the actual crash.

Get well soon my dear friend. You are so loved. All the prayers, meditations and good vibrations are flowing your way.

Going to become a little ambidextrous for awhile

The thumb

Not this time Mr. Reaper

Smile Tim! You're on Morphine. (yes, that is a morphine drip smile)

Addition: Tim could go home as early as tomorrow or Friday, remarkably. We'll know more in the morning.

Addition #2: Blue Squirrel is back from his trip to the hosp. with update #4. Please have a look.

Addition #3 A tremendous outpouring of love and support is coming in from all over the globe! Spoke to Tim this morning and he is doing well. His eye is much better. Still waiting to know more about the knee. His neck is stable and doctors are happy with his progress. He's eating a little bit more and is surrounded by family and friends who are looking after him. He sends his thanks to everyone for the well wishes.

Addition #4 The brilliant Blue Squirrel is hosting a Tim Jackson Get Well Fund. Please click on the link and check it out. Lots of options for gift cards and such to help Tim with the peripherals during the down time. Thank you all.

Officially OFF THE GRID!

2008-04-23T00:56:00.000-07:00

The Pelican has landed. Yup, it's true, I have found a new home, and my address is:

UN-GOOGLE-ABLE!

I can't tell you how much chuckling pleasure this little fact gives me. You can enter the address all you want and Google remains mute. The satellite map shows the area but not the road! Tee hee hee hee... I didn't think it was possible. It's high in the hills above Santa Barbara not someplace like... the Appalachians for heaven's sake! But I am reveling in the anonymity. It reminds me of the movie where Dudley Moore tells a friend: "I'm incommunicado." and the woman on the phone asks: "Where is that?" Dudley says: "Next to Cognito".

If you look closely you will see the road on the top of the ridge that is now my home training ground.

"Cognito" is at the top of a well worn epic hill climb. Santa Barbara cycling pals will easily guess where it is (expect summit brunch party soon). The house itself is rather cabin-like but contains all the modern conveniences. There is a pot bellied stove and fireplace to lessen dependence on the electric heaters for warmth. However, no cable, so satellite is necessary for TV, and radio reception depends on tricky antenna placement. God bless Blue Tooth!

One thing there is plenty of here: QUIET and lots of stars. We also have something called "sundowners", high gusting winds that come up as the sun sets. They routinely blow the plastic deck chairs over the railing where they fall to the ground two stories below. There are lots of welcome animal sounds day and night, nice neighbors with beautiful gardens, a babbling creek and swimming holes. Yeah, I said swimming holes! I'll be starting my own veggie garden too.

Once again, in more pictures than words:

The view from the top

Alarm clock

Pest control

If the phone cuts out I'm blaming this guy

In the gardens

Poppies at the roadside

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams...

Maybe this is the Appalachians!
(actually a former director of the Botanical Gardens lives here, go figure.)

Top of the creek bed

Creek

"I have made fire! I... have made fire!
(Tom Hanks ain't got nothin' on me)

Those close to me know that this relocation (after 12 years in Del Mar) has been a long journey indeed. As a special bonus that is evidence that the Great Spirit is watching over me after all my new house mate is a partner in a local winery: "Help yourself to all the wine you can drink. Plenty of wine!"

It's going to be a cozy year.

WHIRLWIND

2008-04-08T22:32:00.000-07:00

Jennifer Wilson brings the proper attitude

I made it to the Redlands Classic for the criterium on April 5th, day three of the annual jamboree. What follows are a few words and a slew of pictures.

Mara Abbott - the one to beat in yellow, and Katharine Carroll called up to the front.

Michael Engleman (the salt of the earth), and Rebecca Much having a good day.

My primary mission was to meet with Michael Engleman of US Women's Cycling Development Program and Dave Varrechia of Vanderkitten Racing, as, in addition to racing myself, I am seriously considering the notion of working to promote women's cycling in various capacities.

Leah Guloien and Jenny Trew

Goal #2 was to meet as many of my cycling sisters as possible...and watch a really good race. For all the women I met I will say this: they are really warm, open people, FUN, dedicated and SMART. I found myself in a sea of EXTREME multi-taskers. Nearly all of them have very complicated lives that include husbands and children, college degrees to finish, careers to maintain. They count the bruises and scars on their bodies with a shrug as just part of the journey. Almost all are surprisingly under compensated for what they do and sacrifice far more than time and energy to be part of the sport. Each would make a wonderful role model for young women any day of the week! It makes a girl feel privileged to be in the midst of such dynamic women and they are all so welcoming to newcomers like me.

Jenny Trew and Melissa Sanborn

Waiting for the shot.

Some of the girls were having a hard start to the season. Some were getting over the flu. Some were just beginning to feel symptoms of the flu. Others were still not quite recovered from injuries sustained in the races of recent weeks. A few were all smiles and at the top of their game. Liz Hatch who was still recovering from that nasty spill in Visalia was "...just happy to be back on the bike" but DNF the first stage. My USWCDP girl Kris Keim (Kenda) who had mechanical issues early on never quite got in the groove and said 'enough' during the crit. Heather Sborz seemed to be struggling through the last laps and no wonder, she got sick soon after reaching home. It's early yet.

One thing is certain, the season has just begun to ramp up and anywhere the ladies are on the course it's guaranteed to be a great show!

Emilia Fahlin's moment in the sun.

One thing I discovered on this trip: I love to get out to a part of the course where there aren't a lot of spectators cheering. I love that sound of the peloton, 100 or more wheels all whirring together at 25mph or more. I love that whirring sound!

Some photos from the course - imagine the whirring sound for yourself...

Getting underway a few laps in.

Mara taking care of business.

Taking the Sixth Street turn.

Little Millie already a champ and the future of women's racing!

Spring has sprung - a wild rose from the trailside

If I get names wrong or leave anyone out please leave a comment and I'll correct it immediately.

And Suddenly... BIKE ART!!

2008-03-26T10:49:00.000-07:00

While the memory of exactly when Crayola's Big Box of 64 entered my world is lost in the fuzzy recollections of the toddler brain, the day I savored my first taste of freedom is clear as an early spring day.

On my fourth birthday I received a grape purple Schwinn 'big kid' BIKE! It came with training wheels... I tooled around on the driveway for about 20 minutes, marched into the kitchen and demanded they be taken off. My mother all flustered, my dad with a knowing grin stood 20 feet apart on the blacktop and pushed me back and forth standing farther and farther apart with each pass. After about 15 minutes of that I circled the drive a few times and rolled off down he hill. I was FREE. I yelled to my mom that I'd be back before dark.

I went to explore the canyons and visit all my little friends. To her credit, Mom, instead of freaking out and shrieking at me to come back ( I was only four) simply got on the phone to all my little friend's moms and proceeded to track my progress through the neighborhood with the accuracy of NORAD, as I flew by kitchen window after kitchen window. It was 1968.

I became a professional artist at 19 when I sold my first painting, quit my day job and later dropped out of school (oops). But it's taken 25 years of painting and 40 years on two wheels for the love of cycling to make the trip from my heart to my brain where it finally trickled down my right arm and hit the canvas.

So here it is, my first ever bike painting. It does have a precedent in my body of work, for those of you who are serious art enthusiasts. It follows from a series called "Scribbles" (for obvious reasons). You can see more Scribbles on my website if you like.

I'm serving it up here for 'my people', my bike people, like my first born. But don't feel you have to tell me the baby is pretty. Please express whatever you'd like. The point of ART is neither to be 'good' nor 'bad', 'right' or 'wrong', but to make you think and ultimately feel in a way that you hadn't thought or felt before you looked at it. If you happen to enjoy it, well heck, that's gravy!

Yes, there will be more joining this one soon, pedaling hard on his heels about to catch...

Ringside at the ToC

2008-02-25T22:09:00.001-08:00

Two brave and handsome warriors having a chat after the battle.

When the warriors of cycling barrel toward the line at a major tour, standing in the crushing throng of fans who squish against the barricades is no different than a second row floor seat at an Aerosmith concert - "I'm certain I had a chair... " Double that when you're hanging out amidst the media. Those people are armed with heavy metal, Blue Tooth and LUGGAGE.

My one LUCKY shot!

My many thanks to Len Basobas of Triple Crankset for letting me shadow him around Solvang, tethered to his media-cred strings.

Exuberant young Cavendish in the bliss of ignorance before the...er, disqualification...

I got to see and smell the stars up close and my one overarching comment is this: Holy Bejeebers these boys are FAST!!!!! Catch-your-breath thrilling really. They'll show you the true meaning of "Zoom Zoom". All you want to do after witnessing something like the Tour of California is jump on the nearest bike and ride to the sun at mach 2 'til you burn up in a blaze of supersonic joy.

Quikstep outside the Solvang start on the TT route out of town.

A blur of High Road.

The cutesy-quaint theme park of a town that is Solvang was thoroughly overrun with bike nuts. Ah my people! Like crack heads on carbon drooling over the slick components and every shred of statistical info. I watched the Time Trial from every possible vantage point in town. Accidentally brushed right by Levi Leipheimer's shoulder as he entered the press room while I was exiting, surprised to find we are the same height - 5' 6". Levi has such a gentle presence, especially considering he has to have a cougar in his soul to ride like he does.

Body by: a bazillion hours on the bike, thank you very much.

Saw Tom Boonen outside the team trailer - yup, heavy sigh. He's really that pretty up close. Global warming from carbon emissions? Nope, it's just Boonie taking off his jacket. Paolo Bettini was on the trainer next to him, all business. Everything about Paolo says PROFESSIONAL. He's going to WORK.

Paolo at work work work.

Paolo working while his teammate checks out girls.

Kept trying to catch a glimpse of Cipo but he was like a vapor; suddenly there and just as quickly gone. I used to think he was a little too over-the-top to take but the comeback at 41 has all my respect. Hammer 'em Mario! Hammer 'em 'til they squeal.

Rock racing in all it's Pop Neo-Consumerist glory.

Prophecy?

A new kind of 'blue man'.

Look! Facial hair on a cyclist!

Burns and 'stache. I'm seeing Fashion Trend folks...

A super fast femme Vanderkitten flier and a crazed Triple Crankset camera man.

Two of cycling's angels.

In a serendipitous twist of fate I happened to be staying with a friend in Montecito whose house turned out to be three whole blocks from the official time start of stage 6. I had the fun of riding my bike down to the intersection in my new "LET LEVI RIDE!" T-shirt.

A new cycling fan is born - shoulda seen this tyke jump up and down when the riders came through! Cute!

At the official time start of stage 6 in Montecito (just south of Santa Barbara proper).

How Montecito welcomes the peleton (with mimosas). Of course it's Cristal!

The last time I saw Valencia/Santa Clarita the only significant buildings there were the California Institute of the Arts and Magic Mountain. Now it's one never-ending mega-mall/auto park. On February 23 most of it was blocked off for the sea of fans at ToC! The parking lots were total anarchy. So glad the sun came out (mostly) to give the riders and the sponsors the promised California postcard of a day. And I'm most pleased to report that cycling is not hurting for fans, people. There are MILLIONS of us and our numbers are GROWING.

Media alert.

Spandex rush.

I got to meet Bob Roll after stage 6 in Santa Clarita. What a sweet man! And fit as that proverbial fiddle, I might add. Soon as he was outside the barricades he got MOBBED by fans, yet was gracious to all.

Eli the cat is so happy I'm home that he just brought me a freshly killed baby mouse. Oh joy. I'll spare you the picture of the carnage.

All photos by Kathleen King.

BaaaaaD Valve Stem!

2008-01-23T16:28:00.000-08:00

Gooood bike mechanic!

Remember when you were a kid how a parent would tell you that after the big test/game/doctor visit/show etc. you were going for ice cream, pizza, or whatever treat? Then when it came time to go something went awry; the place was closed, they were out of your favorite flavor, or you had car trouble? You had tasted the flavors of your favorite food for hours in anticipation and when you couldn't satisfy the craving it just about drove you out of your skin? You know you're in deep when you feel that way about a bike ride.

I had run some errands earlier on the bike. Stopped at home to drop off the odds and ends and add more layers of spandex before taking on a series of hill climbs. I was really looking forward to the workout.

My front tire seemed a little soft so I grabbed the little hand pump to top it off. I hit it wrong somehow and emptied the rest of the air from the tire. Now the stem (which was bent to begin with) was stuck too far down and all efforts to grab it sufficiently failed. The pump itself appeared to be working improperly so I disassembled part of it and put it back together. No luck. I was crazed at this point. I futzed with it like an orangutan for about fifteen more minutes before admitting defeat.

Crouched on the patio all suited up, helmet and gloves, my fiery steed crippled, I felt just like a little kid staring through the glass at a vat of Jamocha Almond Fudge where the Peppermint Fudge Ribbon was supposed to be.

Now a normal person would just deal, put their sweats back on and find something else to do. A bike nut on the other hand puts on street shoes, throws the bike in the pick up truck and drives (in rush hour traffic) to the LBS IMMEDIATELY!

The muscles in my legs bitched and cursed the whole way like horses stuck in the starting gate.

I rolled into B&L ten minutes before closing where the crew were just putting the shop to bed. Elliot saw my pooh face and asked what was the matter. I held out the falling-apart-pump... Of course it was a tiny problem and all was made right in a blink. I caught up on the news and found a shiny new pump.

What struck me as I meandered around the half darkened shop and chatted with the grease flecked guys was how much I felt welcome and at home. There was no question why I had to have my bike working RIGHT NOW! No one was looking at me like "oh god another customer before closing!" I asked about some of the new toys and no one was in a rush to get me out the door. If the problem had been bigger they would have stayed without hesitation. As I wheeled the bike out to the truck no one hurried behind to turn the locks. They are cyclists. They get it.

It was dark by the time I got back so I ended up at the gym consoling myself with the fact that the bike would be ready for me in the morning.

Today dawned with the howling wind on the edge of a storm front that is moving in to town so I didn't get quite the laps in that I had anticipated... But the warmth of the previous evening's adventure stuck in my heart. I feel truly blessed to be a member of this crazy bike tribe.

The storm will pass soon. It's the little things that make life sweet.

And now for an Ed update: here he is back on the tele pole watching the sunset.

Sneak Preview

2008-01-21T16:04:00.000-08:00

My Big Debut

Once upon a time, while still in high school I fell in love with the medium of radio, and of course, pop music. Friends and family had remarked on my 'awfully deep for a girl' voice since I was a child so it was fitting that my first internship would be at a radio station. I went on to study, not broadcasting, but media philosophy and linguistics, leaving radio behind. Finally, philosophy gave way to art and there I stayed.

While making plans to move to Santa Barbara I ran across this little video project. A philosopher needed a female voice over for her scientific proof on the existence/nonexistence of god. 'I can do that!' I thought. It sounded fun. Controversial, but I love ideas that stir the pot.

It was originally supposed to be only voice over but when I went for the audition they said "we like your look" so I ended up on camera. Working with a teleprompter for the first time was really cool. It was so much fun I decided to get back into doing it as a sideline.

Please bear in mind when you watch that I am reading a script. I was hired to do a job. Although, as an ex philosophy major, I do agree with the logic of the argument it by no means expresses my personal spiritual views. In a nutshell I believe that God is a spiritual concept, not a scientific one. My spiritual beliefs are quite complex and just that - beliefs - which don't require scientific proof.

I do believe that what has kept humanity at war throughout the centuries is our conflicting beliefs on spiritual "Truth" and the nature of "God". Dr. Atwater's proof is one way of offering a solution, in that if the existence of God cannot be proven scientifically then maybe we can stop killing each other over Him.

Mama always cautioned that if you want to keep the conversation polite steer clear of Politics and Religion. Polite conversation is boring. Dialog is how the human race evolves. So feel free to make all the comments you want. Of course anything vulgar or mean spirited will be deleted.

The video will be released on YouTube soon and we'll see what happens...

Butter and Cement

2008-01-09T20:43:00.000-08:00

Winter temps can be fickle in SoCal. Even on the most beautiful days I tend to stay close to home. When you ride out dressed for 61- 65 F and find yourself 15 miles from home when the wind comes up and it drops into the 40s it can turn a great ride into a big, slogging drag. I had a lot of work to do today besides, but knew I had to move my legs and was sorely in need of an endorphin rush.

My usual quick fix solution is to go up-down the hills just behind the house. The neighbors up there who walk their dogs are so used to me now they call out "How many laps today!?" as I zip past.

The revelation on this particular trip that makes it worth writing about is a subtle one but I'm sure familiar to many. The approaching crest of the first lap took me by surprise. Usually it takes me a LONG time to warm up. The first slope is short but steep and being far too proud to down shift into the wee gears I'm usually standing on the pedals for most of it. It feels like I'm riding through cement and I wonder if I'll ever get stronger. But here I was at the top and could barely remember the bottom. And the muscles in my legs were propelling me forward smooth as butter.

I can't even recall what it was that occupied my brain on the ascent. I might have been pondering (Ok, grinding my teeth over) the shamelessly fear-mongering statements made by John McCain in his victory speech last night. It could have been the old standby, 'why did I waste so much of my precious time on that particular ex-boyfriend'. Or, maybe it was about the big hole in the ground that I passed on the way up where the last pre-WWII cottage in the neighborhood was recently razed. Soon a $1mil. postage-stamp patch of ground would be turned into a $3 mil., three-storey ocean view pad with roof deck, at most three tiny bedrooms, a microscopic garage and not an inch of yard where kids or pets could play... priced thoroughly out of reach for 95% of the population....

The point is that I was DISTRACTED and arrived at the top of the hill without breaking a sweat. I felt awesome. Things are changing. The legs are BACK! So of course I went up-down the hills eight more times, as fast as I could until it HURT and I had a giant smile on my face.

Grrrrrrrr!

So many teachers and coaches stress FOCUS, FOCUS, FOCUS throughout any type of training process. I stand before you this evening in praise of

DISTRACTION!

If you want to make great strides in fitness my advice is to get out there and talk to yourself!

A Good Day to Be a Duck

2008-01-06T15:11:00.000-08:00

It's cold and damp and drizzly here in So. Cal. The big storm has passed and everything is soaked. People are huddled around the fourth cup of coffee because it warms the hands.

I know we don't know from REAL cold here in subtropical/desert paradise but it's cold enough on a Sunday for us to just stay inside, hang out in the kitchen cooking roasts and soups and wait for the sun to come out again. Wusses!

I really don't have anything to write about yet, except waiting. I'm waiting for a video I made to be released on YouTube. Waiting to be able to ride my bike again. Waiting for Monday to talk to clients. Waiting to cast my vote and for the Bush administration to grind to a halt - at long bloody last!

I am painting today, but can't share that yet. It's a bike painting...! More on that later - when it's ready for public consumption.

For now I will give you the Great Blue Heron, hunkered down on the marsh, and Eli the cat (take note "Suitcase..." Chris) all curled up. These two pretty well sum up the mood around here.

Stay warm.

Makes you wish you had a long furry tail doesn't it.

2008

2008-01-01T12:11:00.000-08:00

From all the water fowl on the marsh and the creatures on two wheels,

a PROSPEROUS and PEACEFUL NEW YEAR to all!

Don't dream it, BE it.

L'chaim!

Good Fortune Flies In

2007-12-31T20:38:00.000-08:00

Meet Edgar. Edgar is a Great White Egret and stands approximately 45" high with neck fully extended. His beak is 5" long. He eats primarily frogs and fish. An Egret's lifespan is appox. 23 years. Edgar is supposed to live on the marsh - a protected wildlife refuge - across the street. Not anymore.

I swore I would not pollute my newborn BIKE themed blog with a tale of Ed. Like the blogosphere needs another tale of urban wildlife! But today his antics have pushed him across the line from amusing anecdote to local human interest story worthy of a spot in the local paper.

The birds that call the marsh home do not mingle with the humans. For the most part they ignore us by day and fly high over our heads to nest in the trees on the cliffs by night. They do not come closer when you call to them. Except for Ed.

It started out as a mere oddity...
Ed developed an affection for the vacant lot next door.

Posed in the bare tree.

Perched on the telephone pole.

I would say "Hi" to him nearly every day on my way to the mailbox. People on the street began stopping by the road to take pictures. It was a startling and delightful chance to get up close to such a beautiful wild and winged creature. Then it got surreal.

About a week ago I was walking back from the market about 3 blocks from the house when I heard this chortling, cooing sound. I look up and there is Ed right across the street from me on the marsh side. I said "Hey Ed, sweetie how are you doin'!" Damned if he didn't spread those gigantic white wings of his and loft himself across the street (took about a flap and a half) and plopped down on the sidewalk 8 ft. in front of me and gave me a sweet little chirp. I actually backed up a little. He moved into the neighbor's front yard and we stared at each other a bit and I went to get my camera...

When I came back he was up the street making like a lawn ornament and very intent on something...
Turned out to be a hummingbird who was trying to scold him away from a nest.

I clicked away hoping I'd get lucky and wishing I had a professional camera quick enough to stop the hummingbird.

Here is Ed with cyclist on his side of the habitat, right in front of my house. He stood out there chirping at me for awhile while I took pictures from the window.

Well today Edgar put the cherry on it. My neighbors came running all excited to inform me that Edgar had landed on top of my house.

There he is standing atop the cupola to the roof garden. We think it's a sign of good luck for 2008.
In order to satisfy the bike theme I asked Ed if he was interested in cycling at all. He said he is very impressed with the strong formation behavior of the cycling teams. He likes that the cyclists are less noisy and smoky than cars. His favorite kit is Jelly Bellies because they look like they'd be good to eat. Ed said that if he could not fly he would most definitely ride a bike, because it looks like the next best thing.

Thank you Ed, for gracing us with your magnificent presence.

Psychic Gifts

2007-12-27T00:23:00.000-08:00

It's always thrilling when a gift we have secretly wished for magically appears under the tree or on a birthday, bestowed by a thoughtful friend. Even more rare and dear is the gift a friend thought to give you before you were aware you wanted it.

Such is the case with my new "The Cyclist's Training Diary" by Velopress (with an introduction by Joe Friel).

My heart leapt with glee as I peeled back the paper to see cycling helmets in the picture on the back cover. It was a BIKE GIFT! I gasped when I turned it over. A training diary! I didn't recognize the kit but that even looked like my fave, Robbie McEwen on the cover (now know it's Tim Johnson).

You see, what is so remarkable is that the friends who gave it aren't into cycling. I'm usually the only one in our circle who talks about it. You know the feeling, you're rattling on about Disco and Astana vs. Chipotle while eyes glaze over and you think 'oh jeez, shut up already, no one cares but you...' But no, this meant that they had been listening, listening to how important it was to me. Those are real friends.

When I set big goals I normally keep them to myself and prepare quietly until I'm reasonably certain I can make them happen - then I tell everybody. But this fall I decided that I would race in 2008. This goal scared me. I've participated in endurance events where the only challenge was to raise money and finish alive. I've never tried to compete and be fast. This would be a BIG stretch. So as a counter measure I started telling everybody because I knew it would prevent me from backing out.

I was so excited as I began leafing through the crisp pages. Then I started seeing things that confused me. It spoke of setting goals for hours per week, measuring distance in kilometers and logging my maximum heart rate... I always set training goals in miles and distance - 50 miles on the flat on Monday, hills on Tuesday, 60 flat on Wednesday...If my heart was beating and I didn't feel like I was gonna throw up or die, I was doing great!

I closed it sharply, put it down literally on the floor and circled it warily as if it were a porcupine with PMS. I was suddenly struck by how different a world I was about to enter into. Just who in the hell did I think I was? How presumptuous of me! How NAIVE! I took a few deep breaths and picked up the book again, sat down. It says: '500-700 annual hours of training for Masters 35+...' Yeah, OK, not so bad, I've done that in a year before. Another deep breath. I guess this is real.

I started making friends with it and found it has spaces for every possible notation. There are grids in the back if you want to graph your progress and charts to note how you've modified your bike as needed. It doesn't just say 'log your heart rate' it tells you how and what you should be looking for. In fact it's not just a logbook it's full of tips that although not the same as a live coach take a lot of the mystery out of developing a comprehensive training program for yourself. Most importantly it introduced a notion that hadn't occurred to me before: tracking my progress in detail after the ride, as opposed to just making a check mark on a list that, 'Yeah I did my fifty miles and I feel pretty good. Time for a trough of lasagna!'

I have a feeling I'm going to grow to love this little diary. And what's really awesome is that every time I look at it I see my friends who cared so much about me and my goals that they searched for something that would help me achieve them. Now when I ride I roll with an invisible posse of friends who believe in me and are already proud of me just for getting out there. COOL!

For those friends I represent spandex and toeclip cycling. I won't let them down.

SUBLIME

2007-12-25T16:52:00.000-08:00

My neighbor's 12-year-old son made me a sandcastle menorah for Christmas. Apparently, there is a way of baking the sand in the oven with baking soda that turns it into clay. He had it all decorated with shells. It sounds funny, I know, but we lit the whole thing and with candlelight glowing on the sand it was really quite beautiful.

I can see the menorah candles burning down as I sit on the patio in a tank top and shorts, spread out on two deck chairs munching on maple bacon and drinking Green Machine. Breakfast part deux. On the patio side the other neighbor's child has obviously received a Billy Joel songbook of sheet music. An accomplished pianist, she is ripping through the highlights of the Turnstiles album, a personal favorite, such as Summer Highland Falls and Miami 2017. The kid is really GOOD!

Moreover it gives me a cozy feeling. These days when I say "I'm going home for the holidays" I mean my uncle's place on Manhattan's Upper West Side. He's a concert pianist. By the time a jet-lagged Southern Californian wakes up in New York it's damn near noon and my uncle has started practicing. He usually warms up with jazz standards and oldies from the fifties before launching into Franz Liszt. Closing my eyes I soak in the warmth of the sun and the melodic sound of live ivory. The clear winter sunlight is glinting off the blue water of the marsh and the dense eucalyptus and pines on Torrey Pines Hill look soft as green velvet.

Ahhh contentment. Peace. Is this not what Christmas Day is about? To be at peace with all and HAPPY with what simple pleasures are provided?

Life is GOOD today and I am LUCKY.

My cousins are playing tennis together in Brooklyn, it seems for now the sun is shining there too. Another friend informed me he had already ridden his bike a hundred miles today - in 4 hours! Stud. I know I should get out there too. It's criminal to waste this gorgeous day while my north-eastern brethren and sistren are shivering and riding trainers in their garages to stay in shape...

But, Dayanu! - 'It is enough' what I have right now.

'Thank you for sending the beautiful blue pigments. I cannot pay you because the Pope has not paid me. I am penniless, therefore I cannot be robbed."

-Michelangelo, from a letter to his brother Buonarroto.

Ok. I'll go for a walk to the beach.

There, Tim. I bloggeth therefore I am (self absorbed. tee hee hee).