Two Wheels and Other Things

and… Discuss

:-)

I normally don’t wake up remembering dreams, just vivid emotion.  To be able to revisit the actual content is a rarity and something I can’t shake right now.

And I don’t WANT to shake it…. well kind of.

In 1992, Dad and I did a few training rides for my upcoming solo RAMROD.  The first ride consisted of a super long and hilly ride around Hood Canal starting from Port Orchard which hurt pretty bad.  He and I both barely made it home as we hammered the South Shore pretty hard forgetting the hills coming out of Belfair and the headwind that usually accompanies it.  The second was the Penninsula Metric Century course that winds from Southworth, through Port Orchard, out to Gig Harbor, Ollala and then back to Southworth.  We did the rout twice, once clockwise than counter clockwise.  I remember bonking that day pretty hard coming out of Purdy, stopping for a Coke and a Snickers bar at the gas station.  Dad took the time with me I needed to feel better and then we headed on out.  Our third ride, 1 week before RAMROD, was from the base to the top of Hurricane Ridge (next to the climb to Paradise this is one of my favorite routes) and dad and I planned on not racing to the top but pretty much hitting it as hard as we could.  The stretch to the Ranger station hurt pretty bad and I remember telling him that my legs didn’t feel so good, maybe lack of a decent warm up.  He backed off a little until I found my legs and then we were off.

It was a great tempo.

This is how climbing should be, setting pace for each other, encouraging words, a longer pull to give the other a breather when you can.  I was feeling great.

but then I did something completely stupid.  I surged and dropped my dad.  I looked behind me and didn’t see him around the last corner.  I hesitated for a second but then pressed on.  In my mind it was a training ride for me so I should make the most of it.  Looking back, it was probably more than that for him.  He just wanted to ride with his son.

I got to the top where mom and Evan were waiting for us with food.  Obviously mom was a little worried about where dad went so I turned back around and headed down for him.  He didn’t speak to me for the rest of the ride back up or through lunch.  In fact  He blew my doors off on the way down and I couldn’t even touch his descending skills.

Ive lived with that almost everytime I touch my bike now.  It hurts.  I would give anything to have that day back and finish the climb with him.  Not everything is a race

Well last night, in my dream, dad and I finished together.  Every turn, every pull, until that last corner to the top when he dusted me at the sprint to the RV sign by the picnic tables.

Thanks for the ride dad…  We’ll have to do it again soon

Let’s put “the way back machine” into drive.

Years ago.. and I mean YEARS.  Let’s say… 1987 ( I guess that’s not TOO long ago for some of you old farts) there was a family that lived behind us, The Vesey’s.  Cool folks they were.  Our parents were friends and evan and I rough and tumbled it with the three kids all the time.  They had a woodsy back yard and lived in a cul-de-sac so it was always good to play kick ball or hide and seek.  Good times.

One afternoon in the middle of a kickball game, my mom shouted from the back fence that we had to come home.  I underhand lobbed the ball to Adrianne (the oldest of the Vesy kids) and ran home.

Sounds innocent, doesn’t it?

Little did I know that when I walked in the front door I would be confronted by my parents asking why I flipped of the Vesey’s.  My mom and dad were PISSED.  I told them I didn’t do it… begged them to believe me but to no avail.  I got a butt whoopin and was made to write and hand deliver an apology that read. “I’m sorry I was rude and obnoxious.”  Mr. Vesey was a naval officer and pretty intimidating for a kid of my size so with him standing in the doorway i felt as small as an ant.

To this day I remember this incident.  You know why?  Because I was innocent. I didn’t flip ANYONE off. 

I guess it was future punishment for all the times I snuck out to throw pine cones at cars and drink beer with my friends.  They knew I would need it!

:-)

My package of goodies arrived from Excel today and I am super happy.  2 new bars, pedals, stem adapter, front and rear derallieurs, chains, bar tape, cables and a cassette all to build up the tandem for Rosanna and me.

Tandem?  What Tandem?

Back in high school (I won’t put the year down) I worked in a large shop in downtown Port Orchard selling Cannondale and Schwinn.  Over the years I (and my father) amassed a large number of two wheel adventure machines.

Let’s see if I can remember them all-

Schwinn High Sierra (dads first bike)
Schwinn Traveler (my first bike)
Schwinn Tempo (2 of them!)
Cannondale 3.0
Cannondale 2.8
Klein Performance Touring
Terry Womens
Paramount OS 50 mountain

And a Cannondale Tandem, which was ridden way more by my mom and dad as he and I had two completely different ways of riding. Dad was a big gear pusher and I liked to spin. I stood a lot and he always stayed in the saddle. I blew through stop signs and he didn’t :-)

When dad passed away, the tandem hung in the garage for ages. Dad and Mom’s Giro helmets still hung from the captain and stoker bars and it was begging to be used again. I thought it would hang there forever, untouched, that is, until I met Rosanna.

Rosanna is a kick ass cycling chick. She’s raced both road and Tri, she loves spending time on the bike so much that she started her own womens cycling club, Seattle Tailwind. I brought up the idea of riding the tandem together and she was totally stoked.  (pun intended)

So here I am now, the tandem in my shop down to bare frame. The new wheels, drivetrain, bars will be on by the end of the weekend ready to roll.

I’m gonna keep dads bell on it though. I think everyone knows why.