My life is at its fullest right now: how rich it is to be able to escort my partner to work by bike and not have to rush off to work or grade papers or something else. Well, I didn’t go all the way to PSU, just to the Hawthorne Bridge as the sun warmed up the Willamette. Another gorgeous morning.

And then (then!) Rita Shaw, a colleague, came over and we drove to Gail Alexander’s kayak shop in Ridgefield, WA (http://www.ridgefieldkayak.com/) which is a very special place, tucked in the confluence of 3 waterways. Gail is doing me a special favor of letting me store my kayak there, which we transported there this morning, in exchange for special kayakers being able to use it during the season. It’s an incredible deal for me.

Gail joined us paddlers on the water in the coolest canoe, outfitted with an electric motor:

You can see how stressful the time was. The water was flat, no wind, little current, and Great Blue Herons dripping from trees. An occasional Kingfisher kept us alert with its brilling. Rita and I got to float along, under the strong sun, under the steady eye of Gail. An idyllic couple of hours.

So, just a 6-mile flat ride this morning, and a lovely flat paddle this afternoon. I tell you: turning 50 has been the best thing I’ve done. I wonder why I didn’t do it earlier?!

P.S. Gail is offering a poetry and paddling get-together. There’s one left this season. The way she describes it gives me chills of delight: paddling up stream, receiving a packet of prompts, pens, paper, and taking some time to write, then returning to the boathouse for sharing or talking or reading or listening. What could be better? Give her a call.

Blazing!! Even though I didn’t have my heart monitor/speedometer, I knew I was flying. Do you ever have those moments when the bike is tuned, you have kick in your legs, and there’s nothing stopping you? It was one of those days. I made it to school, usually a trip of 1 hour 5 minutes, in under 55 minutes. And that included making a phone call on the way up Rt. 213.

The ride back deflated me. The headwind was fierce. Have you ever had those moments when what you thought was true, the way you built yourself up, couldn’t be? Reality bites. What carried me there earlier was the wind. Oh well, I hope I’m getting stronger and faster, but the real factor is physics: weight, work, resistance.

Today I rode #25 and #26. Yippee, more than half way there!

Today was one of those inexplicable days. As soon as I set my bike on the ground in NW Portland to take a hilly ride, the skies opened up. I was drenched in a soft rain. Proving how thin the skin of presence is I could hear LadySmith Black Mombasa sing, “brrrrrr, rain, beautiful rain…” and I could smell the grass of the Maasai Mara. The rain is a blessing, but not being able to see as well with spots all over my classes, and not being able to shift gears because my hands kept slipping were annoying realities. I made it up the hills through Washington Park and the Arboretum, and for the first time, I didn’t feel like throwing up. There may be a few reasons for this: 1) there was plenty of time between the ride and breakfast, 2) I wasn’t trying to chase someone up the hills, or 3) I wasn’t pushing myself. Perhaps 4) all of the above.

Once up to Skyline, I was a little more nervous than usual on the windy, no-shoulder road. One car came a little too close, a little to quickly, and about a mile later, his car was on its side, leaning up against the ditch. He was standing next to the car, and he looked unscathed. Luckily. But seeing his car made me realize how slick the roads must be after so little rain for so long, and I decided to get down off the skinny roads as soon as I could.

The ride wasn’t long, but it was good to get some hills in. I’m building up to tackle Larch Mtn. And after the next few rides, I’ll taper before Cycle Oregon. Thanks for your good thoughts.

After so many rides now (21), people ask me if I can make it through a day without getting on my bike. I’ve chuckled a little any time someone has asked. I’m not that driven. Well, after this week in which I have not ridden, I really miss my bike. What I know is that I feel much better when I do ride. Today I spent 45 minutes on a stationary recumbent bike, and although it was uncomfortable and, well, stationary, I felt great afterward–uplifted, nearly giddy. This winter, when the weather is formidable, I’m going to have remember the feeling I had today, and get my butt back in the saddle.

Oh my word, I haven’t written in days. So sorry. I’ve had some glorious rides with wonderful people.

After biking to school and back (which I count as two rides) on Friday, I rode with my friend, Dawn Martin, along the Columbia, a flat 12-miler on Saturday. It was later in the afternoon, and so, we had the bike path mostly to ourselves. Riding side-by-side is a great way to catch up with a friend. Unfortunately, though, there was a strong headwind on the way home. That can certainly add stress. But Dawn’s good spirits pulled us through.

That ride capped off an extraordinary day. Cheryl had surprised me with an overnight to Skamania Lodge for Friday evening, and then, as we had planned, we went to celebrate my birthday on Saturday morning by going on a sternwheeler cruise along the Columbia, leaving from Cascade Locks. Unbeknownst to me, my brother and a good friend from Houston flew in to surprise me. They held the door open for me at the dock, and I practically fainted. My body recognized them before my mind did. What an incredible gift.

The picture shows my joy at seeing my brother. Even though my brother was with us the next day, I did do the Portland Half Century, not the whole century. I’m a wimp. The “extreme climbing” of the middle 50 miles scared me for the second year in a row. And frankly, it was a good idea to stop at the split.

My equipment is showing a bit of wear. A bolt had fallen out of my shoe, and so, my clip did not unclip. Yes, that was scary. I had to stop, take my foot out of my shoe, and force the clip out. The next 22 miles were a challenge–keeping my foot on the pedal and pushing metal-to-metal but a half-inch raised. By the end of the 50 miles, my right quad was complaining.

My friend, Linda Brumder, was kind enough to join me on the 50. While it was a flat course, there were challenges, but she didn’t show the strain. She could have gone another 50, I’m sure.

Luckily, we had a great meal after. That’s the thing about doing 8-9 rides in a row: you get a bit hungry.

While I don’t have my list in front of me, I think I have 30 more rides to go. My word, what have I done to myself? Some of the best things about this challenge are people dusting off their bikes and coming along, seeing great sights, and more. I’ll ride just about anywhere with just about anyone. Want to ride?

Right now I’m in Connecticut with more relatives, and not riding. When I return on Aug. 30th, I will be focused on training for Cycle Oregon. I might not be riding just once a day or just flat rides for a couple of weeks. After CO from Sept. 11-18, I’ll be back to riding a diverse schedule. Wanna come along? I’d love it. Thanks for all your support.

with a card from Cheryl:

In truth, I am part Golden Retriever, and so, a soggy ball in my mouth, running all day in the water means pure happiness. That’s what today was for me.

Two bike rides with great friends, amazing surprise gifts, a poem from a dear cousin, hysterical cards, dinner at a Greek restaurant, calls from my siblings, flowers and songs from in-laws and loved ones, a Papa Haydn’s dessert, it’s been perfect. 

Nicole and her son, Lukas, joined Cheryl and me for a wonderful spin around Sauvie Island, a flat 12-miler through fields of pumpkins, cauliflower, and geese. Lukas had ridden 70 miles yesterday with his dad, so he was stretching his legs. Cheryl got me laughing so hard I fell over, but drew no blood. 

(I’m sorry I took out most of Lukas’s face with my rear view mirror.)

After Cheryl went to work, Amanda came over and we headed out to Hagg Lake (see yesterday’s post). Amanda is renewed after finishing summer quarter, and we zoomed around the lake. The clouds parted right as we got there, and we rolled over the rollers and chugged up the hills. Of course, there was a headwind on the way back into Forest Grove. We talked about daughters and when they use the word, “mommy” or “momma.” Her daughter sometimes needs practice using a bigger girl voice, and so, maybe A has suggested she not use “mommy” quite so much. And our Kendra used “momma” a couple of times the day she left, letting us know that she had a wide range of emotions going off to college. The use of “momma” meant the world to Cheryl.

After biking I read lovely Facebook greetings, and soon Cheryl and I headed off to Eleni’s in Sellwood for an outdoor Greek dinner. Oh baby, that was amazing. Then, to Papa Haydn’s (a good walk), and we brought dessert home. What could be better!!

It’s been a glorious 50th birthday, full of playfulness, surprise, and love, love, love. Thank you, life.

Fit and humble are two words that come to mind when thinking of the friend who biked with me today: Jan Fortier. She’s all about books, gardening, friendship, good relationships, and health. What a great smile, great friend. She used to commute by bike twice a week from SE Portland to Marylhurst, up the cemetery hill, down to LO, back through Tryon Creek, etc. What an animal.

We started at the McMenamin’s Grand Lodge, rode out Rt. 47 to the old Hwy 47 Rd, and then around Hagg Lake. When the clouds burnt off, the lake sparkled. It’s nothing but rollers around the lake, and fun.  It was great to share those hills, those osprey, that time.

After two days off, I rode twice today. Felt good. Had lots to think about. Kendra, Cheryl’s daughter, left for college today. Two of her bestest friends came over to see her off, and then, surprised her at the airport to say goodbye. I said goodbye from our house, with Rafi in my arms. Cheryl and Kendra took Mia in the car with them to the airport. It’s an important day.

Cheryl and I have been talking about the little things that make someone a daughter or a mother, what makes a good mother. In the last ten years I’ve witnessed lots of little things. Since we’ve lived together the last two and a half years, I’ve marveled at the notes almost every morning that Cheryl leaves for Kendra, the lunch she’s made every day of school, the laundry folded, the millions of texts sent and received about evening plans and doctors’ appointments, and the list goes on. And it’s the little things that I’ll miss: the way Kendra greets the dogs, her smile in the door when she comes home, and more.

So, the climb up Saltzman Road to Skyline was my grief, my way of using my heart to shed tears. And gliding down Thompson was part of the joy I feel for the freedom Kendra is experiencing, the wild abundance of college. And then, the return up Springville Road was calm, hot acceptance. This is new. This is where we are.

Only 18 miles today, but plenty of elevation. It’s an important day.

Because of the heat and plans for the rest of the day (fairwell barbecue for Kendra), I changed the riding plan for today to something a little closer in. So, to Crown Point it was! Shortly into the ride, the wind hit. Wow, a head wind going, which is much better than headwind coming back. Huge lines of riders blew by me. I tried to stay calm even when women my age passed me. So it goes. At Crown Point the wind almost knocked me over. Getting back on to my bike was a tricky balancing act, but gosh, oh golly, the ride back down was lickety-split. Way fun. “Can’t touch that,” Hammer sang.

My incredibly-supportive partner commented yesterday, “You seem like your head is not tripping you up with these rides,” or something like that, and it’s true. These days I’m out to have a great time, not to conquer anything. I realize I am incredibly lucky to have the health, salary, time, and more to be able to do these rides. The villagers I’ve seen in Kenya and Tanzania have no time; they are working always, usually with their bodies. I am not wasting these precious rides. At least, I hope I’m not. There are too many blessings to count.

Today was ride #12, 253 miles total. About 203 miles this week.

OK, I have to confess that yesterday I didn’t ride. I was supposed to do a flat 50, but I worked on my novel, instead. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it up, but I could tell that my body just needed a little down time.

Today’s ride was fabulous. You HAVE to do this: get up early (5am) and drive out to Mosier (65 minutes). Park near the totem pole, past the ice cream shop… (It’s a great town!) Go east on Rt. 30. The first 6 miles are basically uphill to Rowena Lookout, which is as beautiful as Crown Point. And you have exquisite views of the Columbia on your left, as your companions. And then the downhill is quite lovely. Just a little leaning with the hips, and the turns felt like luge (although I have no idea what that feels like…)

Riding through The Dalles isn’t much fun. You just go through downtown, and then, after 20 miles, there’s 15 miles uphill through rolling wheat fields, past an old, abandoned farm, under views of Mt. Hood and Mt. Adams. That’s the Emerson Loop, except when you turn back toward TD, there’s a gentle downhill for miles. Coasting along at 21 mph, I felt like a real cyclist, that is until the border collie came out of nowhere and kept up with me. Yikes! Luckily, it didn’t try to grab my wheel.

Anyway, the whole trip back was great–no wind–which those of you who have ridden in the Gorge know that is unheard of. Especially on Friday, the 13th.

There are so many things to think about when you’re on the cycle for 5 hours: keeping the front wheel steady, figuring out how to deal with 20 degrees more heat, how long is that hill? Well, there are other things, like the sorrow I sense in my chiropractor these days; like the surprise of discovering that my dogsitter, whom I’ve known for 20 years, died in April and I knew nothing about it (and feel so badly that I did not help or say goodbye); and like figuring out words or twists in my novel. When I get bored with my thinking or need a boost, I turn on my speakers with the iPod inside; the “exercise” playlist gets me going. It’s a blast to have music blaring when I’m trudging up a hill.

And it was just plain beautiful today. What a gift. At the end of the day I even got to see the driveway being put into our Mosier land. It’s amazing to see a dream become reality.