Mavericks that we are, Portlanders held their Earth Day Celebration today; and although I missed out on the Friends of Trees fruit trees (apparently they were gone before the event officially opened) I had an awesome time and got to reconnect with some friends I haven't seen in ages. Besides, any day spent in the saddle is a good one, and I spent the entire day on or next to my Xtracycle. Sweet.
I can not fathom what folks are thinking who DRIVE to Earth Day events. I am just sayin'
One of the few activities I had always ~however grudgingly~ acknowledged probably _did_ require a car was camping. Which is why I've not done it in years. But this is Portland, baby, anything worth doing can be done on a bike! Low and behold, there is a local group organizing bike camping trips! Yes, by that I mean we load our camping gear onto bikes, have a group ride to the camp site, and camp. I say "we" despite having not yet participated, but I am very much looking forward to it.
Looking back through this blog I was reminded that, in the beginning, I was tracking my bike miles, and Earth Day seems a perfect day to bring that back ~plus, it will help with my training for bike camping!
Today's Bike Miles: 15
Bike Miles this Week: 45
Car Miles this Week: 0
reducing my carbon footprint: priceless
Saturday
Monday
Rumors of My Death Are Greatly Exagerated
"After changes we are more or less the same"
The Boy and I are both older, doing well, and making fewer trips to Seattle these days. We have survived much, including an extended hospital stay in which The Boy underwent injections, inspections, detections ~and major surgery.
I don't feel up to offering a complete re-cap of the past 2 years just at the moment: Come over some time, I'll pour us both some Bushmills and tell ya the whole tale.
In the mean time I just have to tell you this one piece of the story, because it is SO beautiful and SO miraculous ~and because it involves BIKES!
So, The Boy and I had been away for over 6 months, sequestered in a series of rooms, in the Labyrinth that is Seattle Children's Hospital. After all that time confined to bed, one of the countless challenges The Boy faced in his recovery was regaining the ability to walk. The tendons in the back of his knees had contracted, while his legs had grown, and he had lost an enormous amount of muscle tone and strength in his legs. He couldn't walk, let alone ride a bike. Exactly the kind of situation a teenager wants to find himself in while trying to re-integrate into society!
His complete dependency, and the amount of time he was having to spend with doctors and physical therapists, caused a terrible, and seemingly impenetrable, depression.
Meanwhile, Portland's amazing and eclectic cycling community had risen up around us in a way I can neither adequately describe, nor begin to express my gratitude for. It made the final scene of "It's A Wonderful Life" look like a study in apathy. I owe them nothing less than my son's life, as well as what remains of my sanity. Their love, support, and tireless fund raising made everything possible.
At one of the bike-themed benefits organized on his behalf, a friend of ours had brought his tandem recumbent so that The Boy could join us on the ride. Seeing my son on a bike for the first time in over a year was miraculous. More miraculous still was the effect *being* on a bike had on him: the clouds of depression that had obscured his spirit parted, allowing his courage and charisma to shine through. Despite the shortened tendons in his legs, he peddled with a conviction I had forgotten he was capable of, extending his legs further than he ever did in his Physical Therapy sessions. I left the ride certain of one thing: the kid NEEDED a recumbent.
I hate nothing more in this world than asking for help. Seriously. I will do anything, and everything, or just make do, before even considering seeking assistance of any kind from anyone under any circumstances. But, after exhausting all the other options: after our insurance declined to cover the cost of a recumbent (despite a letter from his physical therapist confirming the need for it), et cetera and so on; there remained the unalterable fact that the kid needed a recumbent, and getting it was going to require asking for help.
So, I approached "City Bikes", the worker-owned, collectively run bike shop I have been going to since before The Boy was born, and said "The Boy needs a recumbent, what can we do about that?" Their response was "We have ways of making things like this happen" and by some miracle, they did just that! The brilliant and talented Jonathan Maus of BikePortland was there to capture the moment when they presented The Boy with the specially ordered SUN recumbent.
In addition to a lovely writeup in BikePortland The Boy got a new lease on life, and an alternative to physical therapy sessions that were the bane of his existence. Now he has a way to exercise that focused on his interests and abilities, rather than his shortcomings.
Previously, when he went out in public with his wheel chair or, later, his walker, all anyone saw was the mobility device. On his bike, people saw an amazing kid on an awesome bike! Passers by would stop to ask him about his cool recumbent. Overnight he went from being a pariah to being a celebrity, and he made more progress towards mobility in his fist month on the recumbent than he had in the 3 month prior. Best of all, the smile I had been waiting to see gor over a year returned to my son's face.
That is the depth and breadth of the wonderfulness that is Portland's bikey community; and if I spent the rest of my life doing nothing but offering up my thanks, I could not begin to do justice to their generosity.
The Boy and I are both older, doing well, and making fewer trips to Seattle these days. We have survived much, including an extended hospital stay in which The Boy underwent injections, inspections, detections ~and major surgery.
I don't feel up to offering a complete re-cap of the past 2 years just at the moment: Come over some time, I'll pour us both some Bushmills and tell ya the whole tale.
In the mean time I just have to tell you this one piece of the story, because it is SO beautiful and SO miraculous ~and because it involves BIKES!
So, The Boy and I had been away for over 6 months, sequestered in a series of rooms, in the Labyrinth that is Seattle Children's Hospital. After all that time confined to bed, one of the countless challenges The Boy faced in his recovery was regaining the ability to walk. The tendons in the back of his knees had contracted, while his legs had grown, and he had lost an enormous amount of muscle tone and strength in his legs. He couldn't walk, let alone ride a bike. Exactly the kind of situation a teenager wants to find himself in while trying to re-integrate into society!His complete dependency, and the amount of time he was having to spend with doctors and physical therapists, caused a terrible, and seemingly impenetrable, depression.
Meanwhile, Portland's amazing and eclectic cycling community had risen up around us in a way I can neither adequately describe, nor begin to express my gratitude for. It made the final scene of "It's A Wonderful Life" look like a study in apathy. I owe them nothing less than my son's life, as well as what remains of my sanity. Their love, support, and tireless fund raising made everything possible.At one of the bike-themed benefits organized on his behalf, a friend of ours had brought his tandem recumbent so that The Boy could join us on the ride. Seeing my son on a bike for the first time in over a year was miraculous. More miraculous still was the effect *being* on a bike had on him: the clouds of depression that had obscured his spirit parted, allowing his courage and charisma to shine through. Despite the shortened tendons in his legs, he peddled with a conviction I had forgotten he was capable of, extending his legs further than he ever did in his Physical Therapy sessions. I left the ride certain of one thing: the kid NEEDED a recumbent.
I hate nothing more in this world than asking for help. Seriously. I will do anything, and everything, or just make do, before even considering seeking assistance of any kind from anyone under any circumstances. But, after exhausting all the other options: after our insurance declined to cover the cost of a recumbent (despite a letter from his physical therapist confirming the need for it), et cetera and so on; there remained the unalterable fact that the kid needed a recumbent, and getting it was going to require asking for help.
So, I approached "City Bikes", the worker-owned, collectively run bike shop I have been going to since before The Boy was born, and said "The Boy needs a recumbent, what can we do about that?" Their response was "We have ways of making things like this happen" and by some miracle, they did just that! The brilliant and talented Jonathan Maus of BikePortland was there to capture the moment when they presented The Boy with the specially ordered SUN recumbent.
In addition to a lovely writeup in BikePortland The Boy got a new lease on life, and an alternative to physical therapy sessions that were the bane of his existence. Now he has a way to exercise that focused on his interests and abilities, rather than his shortcomings.Previously, when he went out in public with his wheel chair or, later, his walker, all anyone saw was the mobility device. On his bike, people saw an amazing kid on an awesome bike! Passers by would stop to ask him about his cool recumbent. Overnight he went from being a pariah to being a celebrity, and he made more progress towards mobility in his fist month on the recumbent than he had in the 3 month prior. Best of all, the smile I had been waiting to see gor over a year returned to my son's face.
That is the depth and breadth of the wonderfulness that is Portland's bikey community; and if I spent the rest of my life doing nothing but offering up my thanks, I could not begin to do justice to their generosity.
Saturday
"Why Am I Soft In The Middle, When The Rest of My Life Is So Hard?"
Here is a stunningly embarrassing example of how I am not "all that"
Nursing this bum knee, and juggling all the insanity of The Boy's medical stuff, I have gone lazy and slack. There may be those out there who can hold to multiple commitments and obligations simultaneously, honoring each with their unwavering time and attention and letting nothing slip through the cracks. I am not among their ranks.
I get distracted. I can be nearly brilliant at just about anything, as long as thats all I am doing. But life intrudes: I get a handle on the Mom Thing, only to find I have dropped the ball on my own education; I get going with a plan for eating local, and loose my living room to a flood of clutter; I fine-tune the bike commute routine, only to blow out my knee.
I have been letting myself off easy on the cycling while I trying to mend my knee, and in the mean time a million other demands began tugging at my sleeves like needy children, including my own needy Boy. It is only in the past few weeks that I have begun to have faith that my knee might really be getting better, and it is still not 100%. So, I was not a great candidate for a chaleenging ride in the boonies.
It was an accident
Originally, the ride had been proposed by a member of my soup-swap group, who had the delightful idea of a pedal-powered berry picking trip to Sauvie's island, I could have gotten myself and my bike onto the island via the bus, leaving a leasurly and flat ride of fewer than half a dozen miles total, on flat familiar terrain.
That was a beautiful plan.
The plan evolved over time, under influences I still don't grock, shifting to a proposal for a ride leaving from a different point and heading a completely different trajectory, through uncharted territory. But still with the option of a mass transit assist for the first leg and still involving berry picking. Frankly, there were reasons to bail at this point: I had dropped the ball on finding child care, knew that The Boy wasn't keen to come along, and I had a million other things to do. But I REALLY wanted those blueberries. And I really wanted a break form my myriad obligations. I kinda wanted to run away, with or without my kid. Half a dozen miles was do-able . . .
The morning of the ride was like Murphy's Law run a muck. I cant even begin to tell you. The dryer had failed to sufficiently dry our clothes, so we were not ideally dressed for the freakishly hot weather; the bike-with-Trail-A-Bike I had intended for us to ride had technical difficulties, so at the very last minute we had to switch to the Xtracycle, the heaviest bike I own and one The Boy can not help pedal. It went on like that. All morning. A real argument could have been made for bagging it and staying home. A very good argument. I wasn't really thinking straight, I had a bit of a crush on one of the riders.
Of course, it might have helped if I had ingested even one carbohydrate before the ride. Instead, all I had was coffee ~talk about running on empty! I forgot that old credo of "be prepared", even more important for cyclists than scouts!
But then, when I left the house, I thought I was going to ride a mile or two to a U-pick farm where there would be plenty of fresh ripe goodies to nosh on.
Thats not what happened.
I did allow The Boy to get packaged snacks to take on the road (don't bother writing in about the environmental impact of packaging or how it is inconsistent to shun the petrol in cars but purchase it in packaging. I know. I know. I am failible, like the rest of the human race)
Unbeknownst to me, the destination had changed, again, and somehow, I got hoodwinked into a much, MUCH tougher ride than I had signed up for. I don't quite remember how. I think it had something to do with wanting to avoid embarrassment, an effort that failed spectacularly.
Along the way:
there was a flat tire.
there were many unspeakably steep grades and miles of bad road.
the tires on the bike I was riding went out from under me on a stretch of gravel
an empty bottle was tossed at me from a passing truck
I ended up walking the bike part of the way
It was so #@%*ing humiliating
Also, there were no blueberries, at any point; no berry picking of any kind at all.
On up side, I did buy the sweetest peaches I have ever tasted in my life and a flat of succulent raspberries from a road side stand, and met a farmer who turned out to be one of the kindest souls I have ever met. He even brought us bottled water from his house and refused any payment for it.
My knee seems to have survived the mad adventure with no ill effects, and I cant remember the last time I was so proud of my son, who also survived. We both got to face down an inexplicable adventure, and never once lost our cool with each other. Despite getting up close and personal with just how outta shape I am, I did manage to I secured fresh, local produce, purchased directly from the farmer, and ferried it home on the back of my bike -zero food miles!
So, if you were thinking that I have the "it" on this whole cycling/sustainable living/right livelihood thing: oh, honey ~so not true. I fall painfully short, in so many ways. But heres the thing: it is not about perfection, it is not about getting it right every time; it is about making an effort, and making the commitment to begin where we are, and do our best in the circumstances we find ourselves in. We begin here. It begins with you and me, in all our imperfections.
Nursing this bum knee, and juggling all the insanity of The Boy's medical stuff, I have gone lazy and slack. There may be those out there who can hold to multiple commitments and obligations simultaneously, honoring each with their unwavering time and attention and letting nothing slip through the cracks. I am not among their ranks.
I get distracted. I can be nearly brilliant at just about anything, as long as thats all I am doing. But life intrudes: I get a handle on the Mom Thing, only to find I have dropped the ball on my own education; I get going with a plan for eating local, and loose my living room to a flood of clutter; I fine-tune the bike commute routine, only to blow out my knee.
I have been letting myself off easy on the cycling while I trying to mend my knee, and in the mean time a million other demands began tugging at my sleeves like needy children, including my own needy Boy. It is only in the past few weeks that I have begun to have faith that my knee might really be getting better, and it is still not 100%. So, I was not a great candidate for a chaleenging ride in the boonies.
It was an accident
Originally, the ride had been proposed by a member of my soup-swap group, who had the delightful idea of a pedal-powered berry picking trip to Sauvie's island, I could have gotten myself and my bike onto the island via the bus, leaving a leasurly and flat ride of fewer than half a dozen miles total, on flat familiar terrain.
That was a beautiful plan.
The plan evolved over time, under influences I still don't grock, shifting to a proposal for a ride leaving from a different point and heading a completely different trajectory, through uncharted territory. But still with the option of a mass transit assist for the first leg and still involving berry picking. Frankly, there were reasons to bail at this point: I had dropped the ball on finding child care, knew that The Boy wasn't keen to come along, and I had a million other things to do. But I REALLY wanted those blueberries. And I really wanted a break form my myriad obligations. I kinda wanted to run away, with or without my kid. Half a dozen miles was do-able . . .
The morning of the ride was like Murphy's Law run a muck. I cant even begin to tell you. The dryer had failed to sufficiently dry our clothes, so we were not ideally dressed for the freakishly hot weather; the bike-with-Trail-A-Bike I had intended for us to ride had technical difficulties, so at the very last minute we had to switch to the Xtracycle, the heaviest bike I own and one The Boy can not help pedal. It went on like that. All morning. A real argument could have been made for bagging it and staying home. A very good argument. I wasn't really thinking straight, I had a bit of a crush on one of the riders.
Of course, it might have helped if I had ingested even one carbohydrate before the ride. Instead, all I had was coffee ~talk about running on empty! I forgot that old credo of "be prepared", even more important for cyclists than scouts!
But then, when I left the house, I thought I was going to ride a mile or two to a U-pick farm where there would be plenty of fresh ripe goodies to nosh on.
Thats not what happened.
I did allow The Boy to get packaged snacks to take on the road (don't bother writing in about the environmental impact of packaging or how it is inconsistent to shun the petrol in cars but purchase it in packaging. I know. I know. I am failible, like the rest of the human race)
Unbeknownst to me, the destination had changed, again, and somehow, I got hoodwinked into a much, MUCH tougher ride than I had signed up for. I don't quite remember how. I think it had something to do with wanting to avoid embarrassment, an effort that failed spectacularly.
Along the way:
there was a flat tire.
there were many unspeakably steep grades and miles of bad road.
the tires on the bike I was riding went out from under me on a stretch of gravel
an empty bottle was tossed at me from a passing truck
I ended up walking the bike part of the way
It was so #@%*ing humiliating
Also, there were no blueberries, at any point; no berry picking of any kind at all.
On up side, I did buy the sweetest peaches I have ever tasted in my life and a flat of succulent raspberries from a road side stand, and met a farmer who turned out to be one of the kindest souls I have ever met. He even brought us bottled water from his house and refused any payment for it.
My knee seems to have survived the mad adventure with no ill effects, and I cant remember the last time I was so proud of my son, who also survived. We both got to face down an inexplicable adventure, and never once lost our cool with each other. Despite getting up close and personal with just how outta shape I am, I did manage to I secured fresh, local produce, purchased directly from the farmer, and ferried it home on the back of my bike -zero food miles!
So, if you were thinking that I have the "it" on this whole cycling/sustainable living/right livelihood thing: oh, honey ~so not true. I fall painfully short, in so many ways. But heres the thing: it is not about perfection, it is not about getting it right every time; it is about making an effort, and making the commitment to begin where we are, and do our best in the circumstances we find ourselves in. We begin here. It begins with you and me, in all our imperfections.
Monday
The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
By Berry, Wendell
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
By Berry, Wendell
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Friday
City to City
The Boy and I have been making the trek from Portland to Seattle by train with such frequency and duration that I recently mused to someone that I was loosing my sense of which end of the junket was home and which the visit. It has been interesting learning to navigate a new town car-free: both cities have their own charms, advantages and disadvantages when it comes to cycle-centric travel.
Along the way we are learning a great deal about traveling with bikes ~and traveling in general.
If your main purpose is tourism, then arriving with your bike by train in either of these cities can be a great way to get around the downtown core and see a lot of sites, peddling allows you to take in the sites in a way that driving just can't, it is easy to make quick stops when something catches your eye or strikes your fancy, asking for directions from passers by is greatly simplified, and there are no worries about parking when you get to a spot you want to linger at.
Our experience has been that the secrete to taking bikes on Amtrak is maintaining a calm, matter-of-fact attitude when interacting with the railway staff. Think Obi Wan Kenobi in the original Starwars film. When one Amtrak employee bulked at our trail-a-bike, I used the Obi voice as I assured him that "they uncouple and hang on the bike racks, it's never been a problem"
Aside from that, there are the basics: make your reservations as early as possible, arranging for the bike[s] at the same time you purchase your ticket. You will be issued tickets for your bike[s] as well as the humans in your party.
Arrive at the station half an hour to an hour before your train is due to depart, check in. Assure them you have taken your bike[s] dozens of times and it has never been a problem. In our case, it has gotten to the point where this one particular baggage guy will come over if he spots us, and load our bikes for us. Sweet.
Folks in Portland do not seem to fully believe me when I describe the hills in Seattle. Hear me now and believe me later: the hills go straight up! Riding up Pine street from Pike Place Market requires one to defy the laws of physics. Oh, you laugh now, but just you wait!
Luckily, the buses in Seattle are great, as are most of their drives, and they serve well as the cyclist's equivalent of a ski lifts. A few pointers:
If you have bike buckets on your bike's front rack, under no circumstances should you leave them on the bike when it is loaded onto the bus racks. You just cant imagine the carnage that can ensue Remove the buckets before the bus arrives, load you bike onto the buses rack, and carry your buckets inside.
If you come across a bus driver who refuses to allow you to bring your folded trail-a-bike into the bus, remember 2 things: 1) mean people are suffering inside, this individual deserves your compassion -ok, tolerance; and 2) the folded trail-a-bike can, if need be, ride on the bus's rack. If at all possible, load the trail-a-bike in the spot nearest the bus (not necessary, but it gives you a margin of error) , hook the rack's arm over the folded trail-a-bike (I will try to get a photo for ya), say a silent prayer for the grumpy, unreasonable driver. Your bikes will be fine and you will soon be free of this suffering soul -they, on the other hand, have to live with themselves permanently.
Along the way we are learning a great deal about traveling with bikes ~and traveling in general.
If your main purpose is tourism, then arriving with your bike by train in either of these cities can be a great way to get around the downtown core and see a lot of sites, peddling allows you to take in the sites in a way that driving just can't, it is easy to make quick stops when something catches your eye or strikes your fancy, asking for directions from passers by is greatly simplified, and there are no worries about parking when you get to a spot you want to linger at.
Our experience has been that the secrete to taking bikes on Amtrak is maintaining a calm, matter-of-fact attitude when interacting with the railway staff. Think Obi Wan Kenobi in the original Starwars film. When one Amtrak employee bulked at our trail-a-bike, I used the Obi voice as I assured him that "they uncouple and hang on the bike racks, it's never been a problem"
Aside from that, there are the basics: make your reservations as early as possible, arranging for the bike[s] at the same time you purchase your ticket. You will be issued tickets for your bike[s] as well as the humans in your party.
Arrive at the station half an hour to an hour before your train is due to depart, check in. Assure them you have taken your bike[s] dozens of times and it has never been a problem. In our case, it has gotten to the point where this one particular baggage guy will come over if he spots us, and load our bikes for us. Sweet.
Folks in Portland do not seem to fully believe me when I describe the hills in Seattle. Hear me now and believe me later: the hills go straight up! Riding up Pine street from Pike Place Market requires one to defy the laws of physics. Oh, you laugh now, but just you wait!
Luckily, the buses in Seattle are great, as are most of their drives, and they serve well as the cyclist's equivalent of a ski lifts. A few pointers:
If you have bike buckets on your bike's front rack, under no circumstances should you leave them on the bike when it is loaded onto the bus racks. You just cant imagine the carnage that can ensue Remove the buckets before the bus arrives, load you bike onto the buses rack, and carry your buckets inside.
If you come across a bus driver who refuses to allow you to bring your folded trail-a-bike into the bus, remember 2 things: 1) mean people are suffering inside, this individual deserves your compassion -ok, tolerance; and 2) the folded trail-a-bike can, if need be, ride on the bus's rack. If at all possible, load the trail-a-bike in the spot nearest the bus (not necessary, but it gives you a margin of error) , hook the rack's arm over the folded trail-a-bike (I will try to get a photo for ya), say a silent prayer for the grumpy, unreasonable driver. Your bikes will be fine and you will soon be free of this suffering soul -they, on the other hand, have to live with themselves permanently.
Oh, and as to not knowing which end of the junket is home: shortly after returning from our last trip to Seattle, my bike was stolen. I still had the Xtracycle (thank goodness), but I can't use that one for the trips to Seattle, and we had another appointment in less than a month. I reported the theft to all the appropriate authorities, and then -as is the custom in this cycling community- posted the theft to a couple of local listservs, as well as posting “stolen bike' fliers around town. We do this mainly to have more eyes out there watching for the missing bikes, and make it harder for thieves to fence stolen bikes.
Anyway, several folks who know me, know the boy, and know how desperately important our trips to Seattle are leapt to action and before I knew it I had 2 bikes to replace the one.
The first replacement bike is an old school Raleigh designed for racing, it is the lightest and nimblest bike I have ever ridden which apparently had be languishing in someones basement when they heard I needed a bike. It gets me places in record time, but doesn't handle being loaded down with cargo at all. We took it to Seattle once, where it became clear that -for all it's charms- this was not our going-to-Seattle bike.
I didn't want to complain about a gift bike, but I couldn't afford to replace the stolen mountain bike, when Peter at City bikes came riding to my rescue like the proverbial white Knight. He had picked up a second hand Jamis Mountain bike, very similar to my missing KMS, which I suspect he was originally planning to fix up for the shop to sell, instead he fixed it up for me and refused to accept a cent for it. Yeah, this is home, and this cycling community is family.
Saturday
Bike Bucket DIY
Several folks have asked about how to make bike buckets, and as luck would have it I've had occasion to make another pair, so here are the step-by-step photos I didn't get last time.
This project has got to be the easiest DIY project ever ~seriously, my dog could do it if he had thumbs. Basically, you slap a couple hooks on a reclaimed plastic bucket and go. It is quite nearly impossible to mess up, and I bet they would work even if you did, but you asked for specific instructions, and you shall have them.
In addition to being easy, Bike Buckets are also the ultimate commuting tool: perfect for carrying clothes, groceries ~almost anything. Here, at last, is a way to pick up berries, bananas, and yogurt on your bike, and not have an accidental smoothie when you arrive home!
The hardware for my pair of buckets cost me about $10 (this included packages of nuts and bolts that have left me with an ample surplus for other projects). The buckets themselves may cost you a couple bucks as well, depending on where you get them, however, given that a "pre-fab" pair from a bike shop will set you back about $50, it is well worth the $10 to make your own.
For each pair you will need:
2 buckets (check your local food co-op or restaurant for cast-offs)
4 coat hooks or utility hooks
2 “S” hooks
bungee cords, or other other elastic devices
nuts, bolts, and washers
A drill makes fast work of the project, but you can easily work around it's absence if you don't have one. Likewise, a utility knife and measuring device of some sort come in handy. The buckets are available from almost any co-op, restaurant or other food-service outfit (they are used for bulk peanut butter, tahinni, honey, etc.); you can also use kitty litter buckets, as I did.
Hold the bucket against the rack on your bike (you will need to have some kind of rack on your bike to carry buckets) There is really no right or wrong placement, just a matter of personal preference. Mark your chosen location for the hooks on the bucket with a sharpie pen.
In my case, I wanted the bucket lids to rest just above the edge of my rack, getting things to line up the way I wanted them to required cutting a couple of notches in one of the ridges circling the bucket: this is where the utility knife comes in! This photo shows the notches cut and hooks installed.
Making the second bucket goes quick: line up the two buckets and use the holes you have drilled in the first bucket as a template for drilling the holes on the second.
Don't forget to attach the washers and nuts inside --that's important! Here you see the bolts nutted and the knots knotted. If you plan to load down the buckets with text books, tools, buckets of paint, etc. you may want to reinforce the bucket by putting in a metal plate (the hardware store will have pre-drilled plates)
Now you need to attach the elastic strap and hook that will keep your buckets from bouncing off. It's so simple: pop a couple of small holes or slits in the bucket, thread a bungee cord or inner tube through, add an "S" hook, and your good to go. I got fancy and put the holes under the "lip" of the bucket, but don't stress out, you can put 'em just about anywhere. I also went all-out by installing a horizontal strap, just like they put on the official bike shop bike buckets, that the "S" hook strap passes under before attaching to the rack. It reduces "wiggling", especially with heavier loads, and generally keep things more secure, but is not essential.
The "S" hook strap, on the other hand, is essential: it hooks to the bottom of your bike's rack and keeps the buckets from bouncing off. Having threaded the inner tubes (or whatever you are using) through the holes in the bucket, tie them off (If you feel uncertain about how long to make your stretchy straps, leave yourself some slack behind the knots, so you can make adjustments later if need be), hook the "S" hooks onto the strap and use a wrench to tighten it on a bit. easy-peasy. Looks something like this when your done.
This project has got to be the easiest DIY project ever ~seriously, my dog could do it if he had thumbs. Basically, you slap a couple hooks on a reclaimed plastic bucket and go. It is quite nearly impossible to mess up, and I bet they would work even if you did, but you asked for specific instructions, and you shall have them.
In addition to being easy, Bike Buckets are also the ultimate commuting tool: perfect for carrying clothes, groceries ~almost anything. Here, at last, is a way to pick up berries, bananas, and yogurt on your bike, and not have an accidental smoothie when you arrive home!
The hardware for my pair of buckets cost me about $10 (this included packages of nuts and bolts that have left me with an ample surplus for other projects). The buckets themselves may cost you a couple bucks as well, depending on where you get them, however, given that a "pre-fab" pair from a bike shop will set you back about $50, it is well worth the $10 to make your own.
For each pair you will need:
2 buckets (check your local food co-op or restaurant for cast-offs)
4 coat hooks or utility hooks
2 “S” hooks
bungee cords, or other other elastic devices
nuts, bolts, and washers
A drill makes fast work of the project, but you can easily work around it's absence if you don't have one. Likewise, a utility knife and measuring device of some sort come in handy. The buckets are available from almost any co-op, restaurant or other food-service outfit (they are used for bulk peanut butter, tahinni, honey, etc.); you can also use kitty litter buckets, as I did.
Hold the bucket against the rack on your bike (you will need to have some kind of rack on your bike to carry buckets) There is really no right or wrong placement, just a matter of personal preference. Mark your chosen location for the hooks on the bucket with a sharpie pen.
In my case, I wanted the bucket lids to rest just above the edge of my rack, getting things to line up the way I wanted them to required cutting a couple of notches in one of the ridges circling the bucket: this is where the utility knife comes in! This photo shows the notches cut and hooks installed.Making the second bucket goes quick: line up the two buckets and use the holes you have drilled in the first bucket as a template for drilling the holes on the second.
Don't forget to attach the washers and nuts inside --that's important! Here you see the bolts nutted and the knots knotted. If you plan to load down the buckets with text books, tools, buckets of paint, etc. you may want to reinforce the bucket by putting in a metal plate (the hardware store will have pre-drilled plates)Now you need to attach the elastic strap and hook that will keep your buckets from bouncing off. It's so simple: pop a couple of small holes or slits in the bucket, thread a bungee cord or inner tube through, add an "S" hook, and your good to go. I got fancy and put the holes under the "lip" of the bucket, but don't stress out, you can put 'em just about anywhere. I also went all-out by installing a horizontal strap, just like they put on the official bike shop bike buckets, that the "S" hook strap passes under before attaching to the rack. It reduces "wiggling", especially with heavier loads, and generally keep things more secure, but is not essential.
The "S" hook strap, on the other hand, is essential: it hooks to the bottom of your bike's rack and keeps the buckets from bouncing off. Having threaded the inner tubes (or whatever you are using) through the holes in the bucket, tie them off (If you feel uncertain about how long to make your stretchy straps, leave yourself some slack behind the knots, so you can make adjustments later if need be), hook the "S" hooks onto the strap and use a wrench to tighten it on a bit. easy-peasy. Looks something like this when your done.
Wednesday
Sprocket Smoothies, and local politico Sam Adams, whiped up cycling excitment and over 100 organic fruit smoothies at Portland's Bike to Work day in Pioneer Square. They say that behind every great man is a great woman, in this case that me at the back of the bike. The photo was taken by the brillient and talented Jonathan Maus, who has a great write up on this event on his blog BikePortland
Steve Solves Sidecar Steering Situation
Thanks to Steve in Nova Scotia, the side car now maneuvers like a dream! The key was, as he suspected, removing the "inside" wheel of the car. My theory is that the side car will offer some added safety while riding, as the increased width and mass will make us far more visible, and force motorists to shove over. Luckily for us, Oregon law grants cyclists the full lane (absent bike lanes), and I have found I am (or at least feel) safer when I take the lane.I had thought seriously about comming up with some kind of pivoting system, as another contributor suggested, but a)couldn't quite figure out how to do it, b)had been given an equally persuasive argument to NOT have pivots c) removing the middle wheel was quick, easy, and worked like a charm.
The day dawned gorgous, all sunshine and blue skies, and having been loligagin around the house for the past several days I couldnt wait to get out for a ride. I was trying to coax The Boy into coming with me when he shocked my socks off by asking if we could try the sidecar! Well why not? (it's hard to see in the photo, but he is cuddling his cat, who came up to see what the heck the kid was doing)
It worked like a dream, even with all 60+ pounds of boy in it ~and boy, did we attract attention! With it being such a nice day, many folks were out on their bikes, and several folks actually stopped us to ask about the rig, many more smiled and waved, or gave us thumbs up. We felt like celebrities!
We made a stop at Goodwill, and as I was locking up the bike, I had a wonderful chat with a German fellow who began the conversation with "Hey, can I have a ride in that?" If he had not been traveling with a lovely young lady, and I with my son, I might have picked him up. In stead, The Boy and I went in and found ~wait for it~ a bean bag chair! in his favorite color blue and the works! Yes, we did pop it on the side car and road home with him, quite literally, in the lap of luxury.
The beanbag has pockets on either side for The Boy to stash snacks, in this case, a soft pretzel. I dont know what the waight capacity for the sidecar is, I'm a little concerned though, the kid is lookin mighty comfortible there, he may never want to ride his own bike again!In this shot you can see that the rail on the right side of the bean bag is a bit wabbly, tending to lean in a bit. The Burley flatbed is designed to disassemble and fold flat easily, which is great if your main concern is storage space. I have bolted the left rail ridgedly into possition, and plan to do the same to that limp right side rail this weekend, when I will also begin working on the "box"
tune in next time for the amazing adventures of "Biofuel* Mamma & The Boy" . . .
(*cyclists are the ultimate biofule vehicle, and the only sustainable one)
Sunday
Sidecar Update
Having gotten the important pieces bolted down, I couldn't resist taking the sidecar out for a test drive.The Boy took one look at it and declared "I am NOT getting in that!" Not sure if it was the fact that it is still a flatbed shell of a thing, just a bit more substance than idea at this point; or if it is that he has always been the "grown up" in the family. Anyway, I tossed a bag of compost on the side car for balast, and took it out for a spin. Heres where we are at:
* It has the turning radius of a tank
* The side car has a tendency to "push" the bike towards the curb (away from the side car)
* The outside wheel of the sidecar has a tendency to lift up off the pavement
I am not an engineering genius, and am hoping someone out there is and can offer some feedback.
I wonder if, in my concern about attaching the sidecar securely, that I have made the connection too ridged? Right now the front of the side car attaches to the bike frame with a standard Burley trailer hitch, the back attaches to the back of the Xtracycle frame through a pipe inserted into the Xtracycle frame, with the other end bolted to the back of the sidecar.
The sidecar is on the left side of the bike, and turning right is difficult.
Mover's Lament
Spring is altogether the worst time for me to consider moving from this place. Granted, there are a dozen good reasons, and several flimsy ones, for me to do so; but all those reason existed over the winter, and that would have been the time to make the leap. Now everything is budding up and blooming: the apple tree, grafted with three different varieties of apples, has that certain complexion that it gets this time of year, whispering promises of bumper crops that will last from lat spring to early winter. I always have both the earliest and latest apple crops of anyone I know. The asian pear is filling out so nicely this year, and coming into it's own. Thr fig tree in front yard is already making noises about the first of the two crops of sweet, decadent fruit it will produce this year; if I move on schedule, I will miss both harvests. The raspberry canes, which had their first crop just last year, are bursting forth with new growth and spring leaves, all fresh and new and brimming with both the memories of last years crop, and hints of an even better one this year, the grape vines are just beginning to stir and shake off the winters dormancy, like the raspberries, they had their first harvest last season, after years of tender nurturing, how can I leave now when I am literally just beginning to see the fruits of my labor?
The wide expanse of sunny garden space beckons, mocking the postage stamp yards I have seen in the co-housing group's real estate search. Even in it's naked, unplanted state, it rivals anything I have seen elsewhere in the city.
Sure, the neighbors suck, the location is too far away from everything else I do, and the rooms are haunted by years of lies, deceptions, and betrayal; my marriages is buried here, along with a number of beloved pets. But here, too, is the herb garden, bursting with medicinal plants, that I put in when I was first learning to make salves and remedies. The fledging native plants edging the Northern side of the house, planted to support local wild life, here too is the soil, black and teeming with furtility forged by my two hands. The walls my son and I painted together. Here is the place I came to believing it to be the place I would grow old. It is just waking up from it's long sleep, to find me thinking of being on my way.
Sure, there are a dozen good reasons, and several flimsy ones, for me to go, but it would be much easier to considier doing so if it wernt spring.
The wide expanse of sunny garden space beckons, mocking the postage stamp yards I have seen in the co-housing group's real estate search. Even in it's naked, unplanted state, it rivals anything I have seen elsewhere in the city.
Sure, the neighbors suck, the location is too far away from everything else I do, and the rooms are haunted by years of lies, deceptions, and betrayal; my marriages is buried here, along with a number of beloved pets. But here, too, is the herb garden, bursting with medicinal plants, that I put in when I was first learning to make salves and remedies. The fledging native plants edging the Northern side of the house, planted to support local wild life, here too is the soil, black and teeming with furtility forged by my two hands. The walls my son and I painted together. Here is the place I came to believing it to be the place I would grow old. It is just waking up from it's long sleep, to find me thinking of being on my way.
Sure, there are a dozen good reasons, and several flimsy ones, for me to go, but it would be much easier to considier doing so if it wernt spring.
Wednesday
Spring Time & The Mother of Invention
Well, spring has sprung here at our little urban homestead, bringing with it all manner of projects, activities and refections on the meaning of it all.I went out to check for eggs this morning, having not done so for a while, and found that the girls have at last started laying! There was, in fact, a bumper crop of eggs, guess they are making up for lost time. At this point it appears that it may just our duck who is laying at the moment, with luck Henrietta hen will join her soon.
I am making slow progress on my latest bike related project: Around the first of the year I got it in my head to create some sort of trailer or other kid/cargo enclosing device that would allow me to ferry the Boy through foul weather, and also allow me to transport large bulky items that I don't want to have get wet. So, a while back, I picked up a Burley flatbed trailer as a base from which to work. At the time I was thinking of something tow-able, but as I began tinkering and researching, the project morphed (on paper) through a number of incarnations, finally evolving into a sidecar arrangement.
Some of my “bikey” associates think I am coddling the Boy, that he should pedal like the rest of us, rather than getting a free ride. Maybe he should, but the Boy has a liver condition, which I have not discussed much, here or in life, because it is rather depressing. He is less robust than most 12 year olds, and very sensitive to temperature drops and the like. He HATES getting wet or cold, and his kvetching really detracts from my enjoyment of our rides. I figure that going by bike (in any form) is better for him than traveling in a smog-mobile, even if I were willing to operate one, and by making cycling pleasant for him I may be instilling longterm habits.
One reason for a sidecar, rather than a trailer, is it will allow the Boy and I to chat while riding, I love being able to do this when he rides behind me on the Xtracycle's snap deck. The main deterent to the sidecar idea was the puzzle of how to attach it securely without permanently altering or damaging the bike. But after tinkering with the Burly a bit, I found that the hitch and arm are easily detached from each other, and from the trailer body, by removing a couple of bolts; meaning I could alter how the trailer attached to the bike without damaging or permanently altering it . This was a fabulous discovery, as I am reluctant to make permanent changes before knowing that the sidecar will work.
With the hitch removed from the arm of the trailer, it was possible to attach a piece of EMT tubing on to the hitch, and attach the other end to the trailer. A second piece of tubing connects the back of the trailer to the Xtracycle frame. The final puzzle will be putting together the "box", which will hold the Boy/cargo. Not so much a challenge from an engineering or carpentry stand point, but simply in terms of finding the time and energy.
The Boy is hoping to have a bean bag as a seat, although unconventional and -I think- decandent, this arrangement would make switching between passenger and cargo use a snap. I will be making bike-powered smoothies at this years Earth Day celebration, and hope to have the sidecar done in time to use for that ~I figure, if I am going to loose a load, or have the trailer malfunction, better to have it happen with an inanimate load on board.
Saturday
Thoughts on Transformation
After spending the better part of the past decade in pursuit of the credentials to be an Art Therapist, now that I am closing in on the goal I find myself loosing faith in the whole notion of therapy. Well, not therapy itself, because I know it can be a powerful tool for change; nor do I doubt the potential people have to change, grow and evolve. But heres the thing: in my experience, they just don't want to.
We all develop defense and coping mechanism that, almost invariably, turn against us. We have all seen it, in our own lives and in others: we all know people who grew up being hassled by bullies and thugs, and are still doing battle with them today ~except, the perpetrators are decades gone. Today the innocent folks who trip their hair triggers are mystified and confused by their defensiveness. Far from protection, this pattern of behavior serves to alienate potential allies and friends. I know so many people who, rather than seeking to evolve, insist that others except them exactly as they are, anger issues and all. They want everyone else to change, so that they dont have to. I have been such a person. This seems to be the possition taken by the majority of folk. Like the man I know who is so scared and debilitated by being abandoned, first by his mother and then by a girlfriend, that he is unable to commit to any woman. He makes any woman who wants that commitment feel wrong. These issues are by no means insurmountable ~unless one refuses to change; and that is what most people choose to do.
Far be it from me to foist transformation on anybody. Though I believe that humans are not only capable of change, but that these transformations are an essential part of what makes us human, I am not interested in forcing anybody to be fully human. I don't want to play the heavy, and I don't want to be useless. There is precious little I can imagine worse than being useless ~being a serial killer perhaps, or a fascist, but not much else. My skills as a therapist would seem to be exactly that. The cure only helps if you take it.
Into this tangle of darkness and doubt, a fair-haired young man ~or he was a young man~ has appeared, like a beacon. He is not a young man now, but he was, and a wild one at that. He was the Kurt Cobain of my high school, our very own Drug Store Cowboy; the boy most likely to crash and burn, a boy who had experienced more tragedy and loss in the first decade and a half of his life than most people experience in a lifetime. He was a boy who struck fear and sadness in the hearts of the staff, not because they feared him, but they were afraid for him; as he was hell bent and single-minded on his path to self-destruction. There was literally every reason in the book for him to fail, and no reasonable hope of him living to adulthood.
But live he did. He lived, he grew up, he spent time in the desert. I don't know if he got therapy, art or otherwise, but I do know that he chose transformation, and in doing so chose life.
Twenty years after high school, through a strange and complicated series of events, he and I found ourselves in a local coffee shop, with our kids. The out of control 'bad boy' who used to bring orange juice laced with vodka (given the relative proportions, one might better describe it as vodka laced with orange juice) to school, now cradled his youngest son in his lap, with an tenderness and presence that nearly moved me to tears. While his older son played Yu-gi-oh cards with my son, we caught each other up on the past two decades.
He is happily married; he is in collage, and almost as passionate about his studies as he is about his family. He could have insisted that the rest of the world work around his issues and change to accommodate his wounds, but, if he had, he wouldnt have this amazing life, and he and I wouldn't have been sitting in that coffee shop, sharing insights about school, parenting, and creating one's best life. He has owned, and changed, his “stuff”; and in doing so has found wholeness and happiness in this personal transformation. I believe doing so has saved his life.
If it could happen once, in a life as unlikely as his, it could happen again, and next time I want to be there when it does.
We all develop defense and coping mechanism that, almost invariably, turn against us. We have all seen it, in our own lives and in others: we all know people who grew up being hassled by bullies and thugs, and are still doing battle with them today ~except, the perpetrators are decades gone. Today the innocent folks who trip their hair triggers are mystified and confused by their defensiveness. Far from protection, this pattern of behavior serves to alienate potential allies and friends. I know so many people who, rather than seeking to evolve, insist that others except them exactly as they are, anger issues and all. They want everyone else to change, so that they dont have to. I have been such a person. This seems to be the possition taken by the majority of folk. Like the man I know who is so scared and debilitated by being abandoned, first by his mother and then by a girlfriend, that he is unable to commit to any woman. He makes any woman who wants that commitment feel wrong. These issues are by no means insurmountable ~unless one refuses to change; and that is what most people choose to do.
Far be it from me to foist transformation on anybody. Though I believe that humans are not only capable of change, but that these transformations are an essential part of what makes us human, I am not interested in forcing anybody to be fully human. I don't want to play the heavy, and I don't want to be useless. There is precious little I can imagine worse than being useless ~being a serial killer perhaps, or a fascist, but not much else. My skills as a therapist would seem to be exactly that. The cure only helps if you take it.
Into this tangle of darkness and doubt, a fair-haired young man ~or he was a young man~ has appeared, like a beacon. He is not a young man now, but he was, and a wild one at that. He was the Kurt Cobain of my high school, our very own Drug Store Cowboy; the boy most likely to crash and burn, a boy who had experienced more tragedy and loss in the first decade and a half of his life than most people experience in a lifetime. He was a boy who struck fear and sadness in the hearts of the staff, not because they feared him, but they were afraid for him; as he was hell bent and single-minded on his path to self-destruction. There was literally every reason in the book for him to fail, and no reasonable hope of him living to adulthood.
But live he did. He lived, he grew up, he spent time in the desert. I don't know if he got therapy, art or otherwise, but I do know that he chose transformation, and in doing so chose life.
Twenty years after high school, through a strange and complicated series of events, he and I found ourselves in a local coffee shop, with our kids. The out of control 'bad boy' who used to bring orange juice laced with vodka (given the relative proportions, one might better describe it as vodka laced with orange juice) to school, now cradled his youngest son in his lap, with an tenderness and presence that nearly moved me to tears. While his older son played Yu-gi-oh cards with my son, we caught each other up on the past two decades.
He is happily married; he is in collage, and almost as passionate about his studies as he is about his family. He could have insisted that the rest of the world work around his issues and change to accommodate his wounds, but, if he had, he wouldnt have this amazing life, and he and I wouldn't have been sitting in that coffee shop, sharing insights about school, parenting, and creating one's best life. He has owned, and changed, his “stuff”; and in doing so has found wholeness and happiness in this personal transformation. I believe doing so has saved his life.
If it could happen once, in a life as unlikely as his, it could happen again, and next time I want to be there when it does.
Monday
Giving up the meaningless for Lent
I heard a very interesting piece on NPR recently about the notion of Lent, advocating that -rather than giving up chocolate or the like - that we give up for the inconsequential and meaningless in order to focus on things of real importance.
For a number of reason I find myself applying this notion to my own life,
It is less about "spring cleaning" and more about reflecting on that which I surruound myself with, and reconnecting to those things that truely resonate with me, and those people people who reflect and support my core values. Finding what resonates with me and letting the rest fall away. Because the problem with clutter isnt is not so much that it covers the good stuff, but it interfiers with one's connection to the good stuff, and thus our connection with ourselves.
I have been looking into several Co-Housing opportunities, a couple of which would offer far less personal space than I currently have. Although the one that would reduce The Boy and I to sharing one room is doubtless impractical, in looking at the space I am using, and how I am using it, I see that I could do with far less space and stuff. Like so many Americans, I am a bit of a pack-rat, and much of the stuff filling my current space is not truely meaningful to me. I am becoming aware of the extent to which clutter (whether pysical, mental, psychological or metiphorical) impeds our ability to enjoy the precious things we have, and blocks the arrival of truely meaningful things (be they material objects, people or ideas). The treasures get burried, and new things we might treasure have no place to land, literally or figuritivly.
Not sure I will ever qualify as a minimalist, and that may not be te point, but I believe there is value in weeding out the superfulous and unnessisary, and tending the roots of what really matters.
For a number of reason I find myself applying this notion to my own life,
It is less about "spring cleaning" and more about reflecting on that which I surruound myself with, and reconnecting to those things that truely resonate with me, and those people people who reflect and support my core values. Finding what resonates with me and letting the rest fall away. Because the problem with clutter isnt is not so much that it covers the good stuff, but it interfiers with one's connection to the good stuff, and thus our connection with ourselves.
I have been looking into several Co-Housing opportunities, a couple of which would offer far less personal space than I currently have. Although the one that would reduce The Boy and I to sharing one room is doubtless impractical, in looking at the space I am using, and how I am using it, I see that I could do with far less space and stuff. Like so many Americans, I am a bit of a pack-rat, and much of the stuff filling my current space is not truely meaningful to me. I am becoming aware of the extent to which clutter (whether pysical, mental, psychological or metiphorical) impeds our ability to enjoy the precious things we have, and blocks the arrival of truely meaningful things (be they material objects, people or ideas). The treasures get burried, and new things we might treasure have no place to land, literally or figuritivly.
Not sure I will ever qualify as a minimalist, and that may not be te point, but I believe there is value in weeding out the superfulous and unnessisary, and tending the roots of what really matters.
Thursday
A Revolution of One
Although I am intrigued by the Branson/Gore plan to reward inventors who come up with devices to remove carbon from the air, I have enough experience as a mom to understand that the most effective way of dealing with a mess is not to make it in the first place. Prevention is worth a pound of cure, or in this case, a ton of carbon.So while the geeks are tinkering with their gadgets, lets take our cue from those prophetic lyrics of that Mr Rodger's classic and "think of something to do while we're waiting" It wont get me the 25 million dollar prize, but it might provide my son with a planet to grow old on, so here is my plan for eliminating 1,000,000,000 tons of carcinogens and greenhouse gases by the end of 2010.
Over its lifetime, one compact fluorescent bulb prevents 1,000 - 2,000 pounds of carbon dioxide from heating the atmosphere, they also last far longer than traditional bulbs. My home has about 10 fictures that use light bulbs, so just by switching to compact fluorescents (as I did a few years ago) I am eliminating over 10,000 pounds of carbon from the air annually, or about 30,000 by 2010. If every American home changed just 5 high use light bulbs to compact fluorescent bulbs, together we'd keep more than one TRILLION pounds of greenhouse gases out of the atmosphere.
Due to my bum knee, I am cycling a bit less at the moment, but I still get in half a dozen or so miles a day, and use mass transit for the rest. As noted in an earlier post (and the point can not be emphasized enough) replacing just 20 car miles a week (less than 4 each day) eliminates one ton of carbon from the atospere annually per cyclist. One individual, replacing just 4 car miles a day with cycling, will eliminate over 4 tons of greenhouse gases from the atmosphere by 2010, on their own, while running errands and doing daily tasks. In essence, they will save the world in their spare time.
Census data indicates that there are approximately 200,436,329 Americans between the age of 15 and 65, the age range within which most people are operating cars. If each of those Americans were to replace 20 miles of driving with 20 miles of cycling each week, the United states could reduce greenhouse gas emissions by more than 200,000,000 tons annually. 800,000,000 by 2010
If every household in America replaced just one 4-pack of virgin fiber toilet paper with 100% recycled, together we could save 1.22 million trees, 537 million gallons of water, 5.1 million cubic feet of landfill space, and avoid 230,000 pounds of pollution.
Trees are the lungs of the earth, absorbing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and releasing oxygen. I don't have a number for how much C02 per tree, but I have no doubt that it is a good number, which is why all the paper products I use, from printer paper to TP is recycled
So, by using compact fluorescent bulbs, replacing a handful of car miles with cycling,and using recycled paper products, I personally will eliminate some 5 tons of Co2 and other greenhouse pollutants from the atmosphere by 2010. No new gadgets, no million dollar budget, no government program, just me and my choices. If the 200,436,329 Americans between the age of 15 and 65 were to do the same, it would add up to the elimination of over 1,000,000,000 tons of carcinogens and greenhouse gases by 2010.
You personally, on your own, could eliminate over 5 tons in that time, without any major lifestyle changes, without giving up much of anything. That is real, and significant, and perhaps most important, immediately attainable.
We have what we need, right now, to make the difference. You have the power to save the world
Additional Co2 reduction can be acieved by eating and shopping locally, choosing organic foods and foods with minimal packaging, weatherizing your home and conserving energy, and recycling. The average American generates about 15,000 pounds of carbon dioxide every year from personal transportation, home energy use and from the energy used to produce all of the products and services we consume, but we are capable of being so much better than average.
for more information on how to reduce you environmental footprint, check out this link
http://www.bestfootforward.com/footprintlife.htm
Sunday
Happy (Chinese) New Year
All sorts of things are coming into alignment for me at the moment, new beginnings, final endings; cycles of all sorts coming full circle. I began this blog a year ago, near the start of the Chinese New Year, which is apon us once again. It is the year of The Boar, the same place on the Chinese calendar when my son was born, and much is happening related to The Boy, and parenting him. Many things coming together, both Yin and Yang, and several are weighing heavy on my soul. Among them are these two:
The first is a number:One Ton. A few weeks ago, as part of a cycling advocacy project I was working on, I was doing research and crunching numbers related to auto emissions. Math has never been my fortay, but in the interest of cycling advocacy ~and bullet-proof stats~ I did some calculations, and the result has been haunting me. The point of the exercise was to illustrate the value and impact of replacing even a small number of car miles with cycling, in doing the reseach I found that automobiles produce between 1000 and 2,500 lbs of C02 per 1000 miles, with the average car trip being less than 10 miles. This makes individual transportation choices a very powerful and very effective means of reducing Greenhouse gases. An individual who replaces just 20 miles of driving per week with cycling literally eliminates the release of over a ton of greenhouse gases annually. One ton of C02.
This is, of course, great news: absent good government, policy changes or a giant carbon zapper in the sky, individuals can eliminates literally tons of toxins and carcinogens by riding less than 4 miles a day. I find that this knowledge is making me hyper~conscience of any time I make any use if a motor vehicle in any fashion. If I ask The Boy's father to come pick him up from my house, rather than dropping our son at his office by bike, thats 6 miles. If I accept a ride to school from a fellow student, thats 10 miles. Those choices add up, both ways.
The second thing tickling my brain happened on the precipice of this New Year, I met a man who has never bought so much as a single gallon of gas ~not ever. Now in his 30's, he has been riding a bike since childhood, and has never owned a car. I like to think of myself as a radical visionary who thinks outside the box and is able to imagine the most unfathomable and unlikely of alternatives. But the notion of someone never once succumbed to the automobile at any point in their life, to have lived car free from day one. Apparently, it can be done, and I live in a town with a guy who is doing it. I am in awe.
Perhaps it is my connection to the Year of the Boar, the Year my magical boy was born, or the fact that celebrating the new year at a time when you can sense all the signs of the change of season, rather in the dead of winter, has always felt more authentic to me; in any event I am feeling this New Year potently, and all that one associates with the New Year. I am feeling a renewed excitement about to cycling and cycling advocacy. Armed with the knowledge that one can go years without using a car, as well as a deeper understanding of the impact a single individual can have in doing so, I am feeling renewed energy ~and urgency~ around these issues. The concers are so monumental, and the stakes so high, both essential and danting, I have been taking comfort in a passage from the Talmud:
"Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief.
Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not
obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it."
There is much work to do, and we all have part to play
May we all be the change we wish to see in this new year.
Wednesday
Saturday
"You want to blend those smoothies with WHAT??"
"Dont be officoius, your not yourself when your officoius ~thats the curse of a government job"
--Ruth Gordon as Maude in "Harold & Maude"
Portland's cycling community may be yearning for bike blended smoothies, but I am not sure our Health Department is ready. So many hoops to hop through I am beginning to feel like a circus dog.
I had had this notion that because all the smoothie ingredients could be loaded into the bottle blenders and sealed up at a commercial kitchen prior to events, that licensing as a mobile unit would be s snap, but ah-ha! Although the Bottle Blenders are completely self contained and do not need to be opened for blending ~The Bottles must be opened to dispense the smoothies, after they are all blended and good to go, and for that the Health department is insisting I get licensed as a temporary restaurant. grrr
The upside is that this will allow me to custom blend smoothies on sight at farmers markets and other events, and when bike-bartending at private parties I will be largely free bureaucratic red tape. Got to stay positive, it's like The Boy says "there are only two kinds of problems: those you can do something about, and those you cant. No sense worrying about the ones you can do something about (just do it) and no sense worrying about the ones you cant (nothin you can do)” thats my boy
For folks living in the area, we will be offering samples at People's Farmers Market just as soon as we get a clear day, which according to the current forcast, wont be this Wednesday, better days are comming
--Ruth Gordon as Maude in "Harold & Maude"
Portland's cycling community may be yearning for bike blended smoothies, but I am not sure our Health Department is ready. So many hoops to hop through I am beginning to feel like a circus dog.I had had this notion that because all the smoothie ingredients could be loaded into the bottle blenders and sealed up at a commercial kitchen prior to events, that licensing as a mobile unit would be s snap, but ah-ha! Although the Bottle Blenders are completely self contained and do not need to be opened for blending ~The Bottles must be opened to dispense the smoothies, after they are all blended and good to go, and for that the Health department is insisting I get licensed as a temporary restaurant. grrr
The upside is that this will allow me to custom blend smoothies on sight at farmers markets and other events, and when bike-bartending at private parties I will be largely free bureaucratic red tape. Got to stay positive, it's like The Boy says "there are only two kinds of problems: those you can do something about, and those you cant. No sense worrying about the ones you can do something about (just do it) and no sense worrying about the ones you cant (nothin you can do)” thats my boy
For folks living in the area, we will be offering samples at People's Farmers Market just as soon as we get a clear day, which according to the current forcast, wont be this Wednesday, better days are comming
Sprocket Smoothies Goes to Town
Prior to getting the news that I may have an ACL tear, I had set up a photo shoot of the B3 in action: the plan was to provide smoothies to volunteers at the Bicycle Transportation Alliance's volunteer outreach day. I am finding that "spinning" does my knee good, and that riding down hill or on the flats does no harm, so I packed up all the gear, and an abundance of pre-packed Blender Bottles and headed off for the BTA's office. The one bummer was that I had to accept a ride there to avoid peddling up steep hills. Props to Michael for getting my gear and I there.
The B3 made quite a impression on the volunteers at the BTA office, and the smoothies were well received, but the photographer didn't make it, and there were several full bottle blenders left over, so I coasted dow the hill to Free Geek and served up a bunch of smoothies there. It was a real hoot: one guy, seeing the stoker handlebars and snap deck, exclaimed "The bike turns into a blender and then can turn into a tandem? DUDE!" Another fellow, who was there to use the free computer resource room, said that the smoothie I gave him was the most nutritious meal he had had all day.
The new Blender Bottles, that replace the old-school blender jar, are just too cool! Much as I personaly like the look of the traditional blender jar, the Bottle Blenders allow one to "assemble" the smothies in advance and seal them into these individual, freezable "bullets". Not only does this make the Health Department very happy, it really streamlines the opperation when one is at an event. Each Bottle Blender holds 2 servings, when poured into the large, fully compostible corn-based cups we are using.
Everyone had a blast, the smoothies were a hit, and I got a great deal of positive feed back and valuable insight about operating the "smoothie mobile". Interestingly enough, there were no digital cameras at Free Geek, The Boy snapped a few pics on a little point and shoot, if any of the shots turn out I will post them
The B3 made quite a impression on the volunteers at the BTA office, and the smoothies were well received, but the photographer didn't make it, and there were several full bottle blenders left over, so I coasted dow the hill to Free Geek and served up a bunch of smoothies there. It was a real hoot: one guy, seeing the stoker handlebars and snap deck, exclaimed "The bike turns into a blender and then can turn into a tandem? DUDE!" Another fellow, who was there to use the free computer resource room, said that the smoothie I gave him was the most nutritious meal he had had all day.
The new Blender Bottles, that replace the old-school blender jar, are just too cool! Much as I personaly like the look of the traditional blender jar, the Bottle Blenders allow one to "assemble" the smothies in advance and seal them into these individual, freezable "bullets". Not only does this make the Health Department very happy, it really streamlines the opperation when one is at an event. Each Bottle Blender holds 2 servings, when poured into the large, fully compostible corn-based cups we are using.Everyone had a blast, the smoothies were a hit, and I got a great deal of positive feed back and valuable insight about operating the "smoothie mobile". Interestingly enough, there were no digital cameras at Free Geek, The Boy snapped a few pics on a little point and shoot, if any of the shots turn out I will post them
Friday
The Boy and I ventured out for a short, leasurly ride: the first since I got the news that I may have a torn ligament.
Not riding had all but eliminated my will live, so I checked with my doc and got the go ahead to ride ~as long as doing so didnt hurt. Walking sometimes hurts, so I'm not sure how relavent that limit is, but I took it under advisment.
The ride went well, and was almost essentially pain free. I wonder, if I just wear the brace for the rest of my life, and Ice daily, if I can forget this surgery nonsense?
I have been taking mega doses of Glucosamine, MSM, Chondroitin, Cod Liver Oil and Vitamin E while waiting to schedule my MRI, as well as working with an herbalist, a Reiki preactitioner, and anybod els I can find. And hoping for the best.
Not riding had all but eliminated my will live, so I checked with my doc and got the go ahead to ride ~as long as doing so didnt hurt. Walking sometimes hurts, so I'm not sure how relavent that limit is, but I took it under advisment.
The ride went well, and was almost essentially pain free. I wonder, if I just wear the brace for the rest of my life, and Ice daily, if I can forget this surgery nonsense?
I have been taking mega doses of Glucosamine, MSM, Chondroitin, Cod Liver Oil and Vitamin E while waiting to schedule my MRI, as well as working with an herbalist, a Reiki preactitioner, and anybod els I can find. And hoping for the best.
Wednesday
Feb. 1st POWER OUT FOR FIVE
This just in ~sorry for the late notice
On 1 February 2007, please participate in the biggest mobilization of Citizens Against Global Warming to date!
The Alliance for the planet (a group of environmental associations) http://www.1alliance.fr
(I know nothing about this organization-but I advocate the idea) is calling on all citizens ALL OVER THE WORLD to create
5 minutes of electrical rest for the planet.
People in eastern North America turn off their lights and electrical appliances on the first of February 2007, between 1:55 PM and 2:00
PM, (and 18.55 for London, and 19.55 for Paris, Bruxelles, and Italy, 10.55 AM on the Pacific coast of North America.
This is not just about saving 5 minutes worth of electricity; this is about getting the attention of the media, politicians, and our selves.
Five minutes of electrical down time for the planet; this does not take long, and costs nothing, and will show all political leaders
that global warming is an issue that needs to come first and foremost in political debates.
Why February 1st? This is the day when the new UN report on global climate change will come out in Paris.
This event affects us all, involves us all, and provides an occasion to show how important an issue global warming is to us all.
If we all participate, this action can have real media and political weight. Please circulate this to your utmost ability in whatever way you can.
On 1 February 2007, please participate in the biggest mobilization of Citizens Against Global Warming to date!
The Alliance for the planet (a group of environmental associations) http://www.1alliance.fr
(I know nothing about this organization-but I advocate the idea) is calling on all citizens ALL OVER THE WORLD to create
5 minutes of electrical rest for the planet.
People in eastern North America turn off their lights and electrical appliances on the first of February 2007, between 1:55 PM and 2:00
PM, (and 18.55 for London, and 19.55 for Paris, Bruxelles, and Italy, 10.55 AM on the Pacific coast of North America.
This is not just about saving 5 minutes worth of electricity; this is about getting the attention of the media, politicians, and our selves.
Five minutes of electrical down time for the planet; this does not take long, and costs nothing, and will show all political leaders
that global warming is an issue that needs to come first and foremost in political debates.
Why February 1st? This is the day when the new UN report on global climate change will come out in Paris.
This event affects us all, involves us all, and provides an occasion to show how important an issue global warming is to us all.
If we all participate, this action can have real media and political weight. Please circulate this to your utmost ability in whatever way you can.
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