Tag Archives: biking

Seeing Red

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Red is a great color for a bike or a car or a cape. I have wanted a red bike since I was grew out of my red tricycle. I’ve pined over red mixtes (Soma Buena Vista) and road bikes (Salsa Warbird) and even mountain bikes (I did have a Gary Fisher Tasajara) but what they possessed in color they lacked in other ways, or that’s what I tell myself. Hi, I’m Bike Goddess and I have an addiction to bikes. Thanks for being here.

Gosh, I still miss Tessa, my Gary Fisher! She was sassy!

When Bryan at the eBikeStore informed me in an email that the bike of my dreams might be available for a test ride, I bit. See if you can answer the questions:

George Clooney, Madonna, Donatella Versace and Sir Richard Branson all have homes on Lake _________. (Como)

When excited, a favorite greeting is a “High __________.” (Five)

Ferrari’s are often this color: __________. (Red)

Faraday Cortland and first eLove!

When I got my first electric bike it was winter of 2015 and the bike was a Faraday Cortland with a belt drive. It had the 3 B’s. Belt drive. Beauty. Blissful. The third B I use to refer to the sounds a bike makes while you’re riding. I want my ride to be steath and I don’t want to hear the machine of the bike regardless of electric or not. The Como got a 4 out of 5 on the Bliss scale of noise. The battery is the quietest ever however there’s a sound the chain makes that’s a bit on the loud end when you’re coasting. My Cortland was my favorite and still holds a place in my heart. It’s baby blue with hints of opalescence so the color alone is iconic and difficult to name.

Why a belt drive? I took a belt drive bike for a test ride years ago but I let myself be swayed by popular opinion at the time and price. Popular opinion from the bike mechanics was that it was a fad and I should wait and see. The bike was expensive and just wanted to see what it was like. I was extremely impressed but I’d wait. Belt drives are stealth and maintence free. Imagine never dealing with chain grease or chain issues at all. I mean at all.

Front frame mount rack.

Lulu, the Cortland, has over 6,500 miles and she’s the only belt drive bike I’ve ever owned. She was my dream ride. Super cute and perfect for my 20 miles a day commute. I dolled her up with a few accessories and we got along famously for quite sometime. However the range of 22 miles round trip proved difficult for a few things just outside the range like riding into Portland and back. Two levels of boost such as boost and a little more boost was fine in 2015. She’s sublime and everything I wanted until I needed just a little more.

This was after I first got the Como. Original saddle and using the rack for panniers. I changed out the saddle and still a perfect commuter in 2022 with outstanding range. #ebikeanywhere

Isn’t that the way it goes. My second ebike is the one I ride now which is a Specialize Como 5 Turbo. I did call her Ella (Greek for come) but recently she’s become more of a Perri, as in Perry Como because it’s such a great name and when I had her in the bike shop for some annoying crooning and creaking, Perry became the obvious name choice. She has over 14,000 miles which means she’s taken the lead over any of my miles and my Kona mixte comes in at 13,000 as an analog bike. Both of these bikes fit me like designer jeans or like they were made especially for me. I can ride and ride and ride either bike without worry. All the adages come true with these two bikes. I can go the distance and wear whatever I want, kitted up or not, these bikes are my steelmates.

My Kona Mixte is such a sweetie. Best analog bike ever!
Basket situation on my 2019 Como 5. Not a frame mount, yet perfectly adequate.

The desire for a belt drive nags at me however. And the color. I don’t mind the midnight blue but I live in the Northwest and everything from November to May is midnight blue. I want color. I commute to and from work and most errands and generally I do everything and go everywhere on my bikes. Don’t I deserve it? Yeah, but do you really need it? Ugh! Life in my head is like the Devil and the Angel and I’d like to evict both of them.

Very soon I will test ride the new Como 5 in red with a belt drive. There’s a possibility that this bike can also be outfitted with a large basket in front that is frame mounted which is another feature from the Cortland that I adored. This will pose a big problem for me because I will want. I will pine. I will long for it. I will feel all the feels and I’ll need it like I need air. I will feel all the longings of all my days summed up in one object and I’ll be out of my right mind and become obsessed with having the thing I don’t really need but I want.

The answer to the questions above are: Como. Five and red. This is a review from Ebike Review and even though it’s the Como 3, you’ll get the basic idea. I don’t 100% love the look and the deep step through but I could see myself appreciating it in a few more years too.

Will this one have it all? The truth is I could be content with Perry Como as she is. There are many features I’ve dialed in on my 2019 Como. You know how it is. You fiddle and toy and tinker until it fits the way you want and does what you want it to do. I have the basket situation arranged so I use a Timbuk2 messenger bag to stash all my capes and clothes and accoutrement so basically the new Como will have to knock my cleats off. I wonder if it will.

Thanks for reading my musings on bikes and accessories. It is a bit of an addiction, but a good one. At least that’s what I tell myself. Right? What are your bike obsessions? Anything that’s a deal breaker?

Have a great day and get out there and ride!

Bike Goddess

Frightful Few Weeks

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Not my skeletons but still a fightful few weeks!

Are they still on the lam? The local polic posted a photo of a white subaru and video of what appears to be some sort of pyrotechnics and then days and days of fire and smoke and evacuations. 18,000 acres burned. All because someone thought fireworks in a forest would be what? Fun? Stupid is and stupid does. I haven’t been on my bike since Monday, October 17th because the air quality numbers have been high enough to make me think I should brush up on my driving skills. At school students are inside for recess for four day. It has been yet another unprecedented week of chaos.

Smoking in restaurants was banned first in California in the 90s, but this isn’t smoking per se, it’s a forest fire. Firefighters worked tirelessly on the Nakia Creek fire which is near my school district. I live about 12 miles south and west, but it’s a fire…therefore the high winds and lack of rain means that lots of families were evacuated and the reverse 9-1-1 call made to many people I know. You may have seen news of the incident on the news but what you don’t see unless you too have been through it are the dire effects of all the smoke. It’s in my eyes, lungs and it feels gritty and gross. If I ever thought I could be a firefighter this week has eliminated that possibility.

Usually in the Green but several days of bad air makes you appreciate all the good air.

Two Mondays ago I commuted 11.6 miles in the morning but my husband picked me up because air quality was getting worse by the minute. Moving the needle of normal air quality from green to yellow to orange and red and before you know it you couldn’t see ahead much more than 3 feet. I commuted again on Friday, the 21st.

October 21st we finally had the first drops of rain.

Once the rain came it stayed and I’m happy it’s back even though I do complain about it. I admit that I prefer misty-moisty to burning embers, smoke, cinders and ash. However, somehow between the fires and mist I caught a cold. Not Covid, which is what everyone says now. “I got sick, but not Covid-sick.” I tested myself multiple times and I was negative for Covid but a cold caught me and regaled me with a sore throat, cough, massive headache and general malaise. I wish I could tell you that I stayed home, but I did not. I know, I know! Have I learned nothing? I know better but the educational system does not look kindly on taking time for oneself. It didn’t before the pandemic and it doesn’t now. I masked at school and took my DayQuil and pushed on through. Sometimes that’s the only option even when you know better.

Can’t have a rainbow without the rain.

What does this all mean? In the bike confessional, it means it has been two weeks since I’ve commuted my regular commute. Insert blood curdling scream here. I’d completed about 15 miles total which is disturbing and makes me long for the regular routine. I do this from time to time. I want a break from the routine, the grind, the day-today, but it’s never quite the break I want. I was thinking more along the lines of a vacation to a Greek island.

‘Tis the season of skeletons and pumpkins, monsters and ghouls however to me the scariest thing is not being able to ride my bike and be out there enjoying the scenery and breathing the clean air into my lungs and being happy to be alive. Here’s to health and happy trails and solid rain gear.

Keep riding dear readers and take care of yourself. Thanks for reading my blog. If you found some value in it please give it a Like and have a great day!

Bike Goddess

Le Tour de Imagination

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I’ve been watching Le Tour de France this summer. I’m always in awe of how fast, how far and just how this race comes together. Think about it. Twenty-three days and multiple countries on flats and in mountains and always right alongside rabid fans. It’s a spectacle that captivates my imagination. I stopped watching in 2017 because I was traveling in July. Then Paul Sherwin of the Phil Ligget/Paul Sherwin team of commentators for the Tour died in 2018 and I couldn’t listen. I missed their collaborative banter. They were such a great team of commentators whose “suitcase of knowledge” about the sport made me feel like I should sit up and take notes. It wasn’t the same without Paul. But this year with Bob Roll riding shotgun with Phil Liggett plus Chris Horner and Christian Vande Velde in the studio it’s been amazing. Watching these young riders primed and ready to attack is entertaing and fun once again. I’m not one for watching any other sport so take this all with a swig of your favorite sports beverage.

I’ve been entertained to such a level that I’ve taken my 2012 Trek Portland road bike (probably more of a touring rig) out for a spin on more than one occasion in the last several days.

Must be special if I’m putting on the cleats.

As a commuter I forgot what a road bike feels like. It’s a different sort of riding experience when you clip in and go. I’m amazed at how swift and agile the machine feels. Shifting is instantaneous and your heart pumps with a pace that makes you feel alive and ready to race and pace with anyone around. I immediately saw a rider in front of me and went full tilt to catch ‘em like a retriever eyeing a bird. Of course the guy was in his 70s and on a tricycle with a basket, but still, in my mind he was Chris Froome.

The 2006 Trek Portland is more of a touring rig, but still, she can move.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not a racer but gosh it seems like such an exciting life. The bikes are exquisite and I love that the traffic is all in service to the riders. The cars are ready to serve each rider whatever they need; water, air, food, energy bar, a new bike, now that’s perfect.

My husband has stepped up to the challenge of watching with me too. “What’s the Green jersey?” He asks. “But the dots are mountains?”

It’s fun to realize what I know about TdF standings as if I’m a child who knows all the names of the dinosaurs. “He doesn’t have the legs today,” I’ll observe or when I explain how the riders need to cool down after a ride.

“I’m only watching this because of YOU.” My husband observes daily but it’s genuinely fun because the arena is the world. I mean how amazing is it to hear all the languages and see the sights and scenery. I especially love when the rider crosses the finish line and punches the air with the herd of helpers gathering around with water and congradulatory pats and shoulder squeezes.

I understand why people speak in sports metaphores when I watch the Tour. Life is full of stages and some are mountain stages when others are flat and steady but all in all you get up, get dressed and go out there to see if you have the legs. You see what you can do. Some days you’re in the peloton just keeping pace, helping your mates and other days you’re on the podium.

Keeping pace.

Thanks for reading. Have yourself a Yellow Jersey sort of day.

Get out there and ride. Stay safe.

Bike Goddess

The 4-1-1 on 3-1-1

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If it was raining would you know if someone threw water in your face? I ask because last week while riding home from school a kid in the backseat of a car emptied his water bottle in my face and then threw the bottle at me.

Not being one to litter, I stopped and got the bottle and I was so confused by the whole incident I didn’t get a license plate but I did get a good look at the kid and the white Scion hatchback so even though I couldn’t “catch” them to throw the liter bottle back in the car and say, “Hey, dingdongheads you dropped this!” I did manage to think it over well enough to compose a decent blog post.

Over time I have been extremely lucky and had very few encounters like this out on the road. As the rain got a bit heavier and I thought about the times I’ve yelled back at a driver I can say it’s enough to count on one hand.

This sitch was different because there was someone else driving and the kid in the backseat seemed to be gleeful about his actions. I heard him laugh as if he heard a hilarious joke.

After retrieving the bottle I thought I saw them on the opposite side of the road but my glasses were dotted with drops and the din of rain and traffic noise made it hard to tell what was going on. Plus, there are lots of white cars out there.

Once I got home I was telling my husband and he said I should report it. Uh, how do you do that? It’s nonemergency and so do you call 911 or is there another number.

It’s 3-1-1 and there’s a dispatch operator who took down the details I report and asked me a few clarifying questions and then an officer called me to go over the the incident.

Bear in mind that I ride this route every single weekday. Monday through Friday, if I’ve ridden my bike to school I’m very likely riding this East-West stretch home. It’s wedged between a high school and a middle school and in a dozen or more years I’ve never had something hurled at me. Drivers along this segment are accustomed to the bike lane which is what makes this whole event all that much more startling.

“Would you recognize the kid if you saw him again?” Inquired the officer.

“Yes, I defintely could recognize him. He had reddish hair, no mask so I could see his face. He was 15-16 years old.” I replied.

“Yes, that’s consistent with other reports. Were you injured?” He wondered.

“No. The bottle missed me but it was certainly aimed at me. He emptied the water in close proximity to me and seemed like I was being splashed with extra water. It was as if I hit a branch on a tree that was heavy with water on its leaves. But I wasn’t near a tree. Then I saw the bottle and heard his laughing.” I explained.

“Hmm. Do you want to file a report in such a way that you have a case number?”

“No. I want you to know in the event that it happens again.” I continued.

“There have been other reports of a kid in a white hatchback who throws stuff at people walking or riding their bikes. We think he’s being picked up at school. That’s my beat, so I know.” The officer elaborated.

“Really?! Wow! I ride this all the time and this is a first, but I’ll keep an eye out.” I declared.

“Yes, and you have my number so if anything comes up don’t hesitate to let me know.”

After I hung up I felt like it was a small win for bikers. I also loved hearing the word “beat” in the conversation and I thought maybe he had one of those notebooks you jot down notes in like all the cop shows.

The next day, Friday, I took off like normal but when I got to the spot where the bottle was thrown I stopped for a moment to see if I got the cross street correct. Yes, it was 144th. Okay, good. Behold in front of me was the hatchback.

1 Adam 12

I took a few pics of it and called the officer and gave him a license plate. This is consistent with the other part of the story in which I heard the deliquents again on the other side of the street. I just couldn’t see since they probably passed as I was passing on the other side. They didn’t have school on Friday, but my school did, so I was out and about gathering evidence, I mean riding to school.

Overall, this was an interesting experience. The 4-1-1 on calling 3-1-1 is that you should do it. What’s the worst that can happen? You take a little bit of time to report an incident which could lead to helping out the next person. It’s important to the safety of others if you or someone else is harmed or threatened.

Be safe out there! Don’t let the dingdong heads keep you from enjoying the ride. As I mentioned before this incident was rare but it rattled me until I got it on the record and now I feel like I did my civic duty and maybe helped someone in the future. There’s strength in numbers and my dear readers and fellow bikers, we have to stick together.

Watch your 6 o’clock and get out there and ride.

-BG

Oh Sunny Day!

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Sellwood Bridge, Portland, Oregon

Spring Break is almost always a rainy mess where I live. I know I complain too much about the gray days but I admit that I love where I live and I can’t imagine life anywhere else. Spring Break usually means a week of Zwift rides. Today was the exeptional exception and I had a great 40-mile bike ride out to the Sellwood Bridge and back again.

As is often the case the day started out cold but the sun was up and at ‘em so I began to entertain the idea of a long ride while we were out to breakfast. I spent some time on Tuesday cleaning my bike fore and aft since there was encrusted bits of winter clinging to everything. Like a homeowner who knows exactly what stair creaks in the house, I knew my bike was overdue for some lube and general cleaning.

Shiny and bright.

I spent an hour or more deep cleaning and despite the fact that the rear derailer is still a bit greasier than it should be my bike looks brand new. Of course I went for a ride to show off and got caught in the rain. That was Tuesday and I only went 12 miles, but still, I was feeling exultant about my work. Also I’m only too happy to put on my new rain pants. I have to blog about my new Showers Pass Transit rain pants. They are the best ever! I mean they are a game changer!

After breakfast, an indulgence on trio of French toast, I decided to try for Sellwood. The reason this is a big deal is because I’ve only ridden out there a few times and it’s usually during the summer when the days are especially long and I can usually find someone to ride with me. On this occasion I just thought I’d go it alone. No big carved in marble plans, but the opportunity to try.

The first big news is that a land bridge that’s been under construction for the last several months reopened and it’s my direct route to the I-5 Bridge. What a primo upgrade! I mean it’s amazing to traverse this route now. The areas that were gutted and rutted are made smooth. Truly an Hallelujah sort of moment for me.

The Vancouver Land Bridge got a new surface. It’s bliss!

I did a couple of errands and then decided to go for it. By this time it was getting warmer and I was regretting wearing my puffy coat but it’s Portland and I could probably ride naked and no one would notice. I went through the Columbia Slough which was the perfect viewing deck for both Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Hood.

Columbia Slough (slew) with Mt. Hood in the distance.

Like many things I haven’t done in awhile I was trying to remember how I wanted to get into downtown Portland. There are many routes but which one did I want to use? I almost always take the Broadway Bridge but I wasn’t certain if I wanted to go that way. There are several homeless encampments and friends have said that some areas should be avoided. But as long as I don’t get a flat I’m good, so I figured I’d forge ahead and if my Spidey sense kicks in somewhere along the way then I’ll go another direction. I have nowhere to be today except in the moment with my Sunny Day.

Along the Springwater Trail.

Everything was perfect. I mean picture perfect. I rode and rode and rode some more. I thought about how seamless the routes and trails and roads connect and I felt thankful to live here and to have been here since the beginning of the bike boom. While I often listen to a book or music I didn’t do any of that today. I listened to the air, watched the birds and squirrels. I felt warmth of the sun and watched the light sparkle like glitter on the river. I heard the wheels on pavement and the hum of my perfectly lubed rear cassette and I felt like this has been the moment I was waiting for over the last two years. It felt ever so slightly normal. I went from Vancouver to downtown Portland and then over the Sellwood Bridge and then took the descent into Oaks Bottom and rode along the Springwater Trail and then over the Tilikum Bridge and back into the city and home again. Three hours and 15 minutes to do 40.97 miles.

Unless you’re worried that I’m living in some sort of Bike-topia, there was an incident with a car wherein the driver cut in front of me in pursuit of a parking space. The driver’s window was down so I yelled at her that that was a dangerous move. She sheepishly apologised and I yelled, “Well, that’s not good enough.” I could have used some stronger language, but she did seem sorry.

Tons of greenboxing in Portland. Yes, that’s my riding bunny.

Out to Sellwood is one of my favorite routes because it takes me along the Willamette Riviera (River) and it brings back scores of great memories of my adventures when I was a youngster in high school exploring the city. Back when I was just discovering how much I loved bicycling everywhere. There was nothing like the current network of paths but there are still some spots that remind me how far the city has come. How far I’ve come as well.

Path along the Willamette River.

This was the ride I didn’t know I needed. One of those great rides that remind you that you’re gonna be okay. That life is heartbreaking and yet you can still get on a bike and find a path and move forward. That’s a good day in the saddle.

The Tilikum Crossing Bridge open to the streetcar, bikes and peds.
The view from Fort Vancouver on my way home.

I didn’t go to Hawaii or someplace else for Spring Break. It’s not that I didn’t want to but I’m not ready for that sort of tourist travel yet. I was in Chicago recently not by choice but because my Uncle Harry passed away. I have more to say about that but this was the post that needed to be written today. It’s harder and harder to find our happy. Everything seems hard and it’s not like a bike where we can just shift and make something less difficult. I have two more days of Spring Break, then the weekend and then back to school. Today I had such a brilliant, beautiful ride that it was better than Hawaii.

Not better than Greece, but not much is.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my blog. I appreciate it! What’s a ride that makes you happy? Tell me in the comments.

Now go on. Get out there and ride.

Bike Goddess

Racing A Roadie

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Roadie Dude

I wish I was a primo athlete who cared about racing with others, but the fact of the matter is that even if I cared (which I sort of do) I am not that type of cyclist. I learned that fact early. Last week on my regular commute to school I was in my zone listening to a book and a roadie came up on my left and started to pass me. Now keep in mind that I ride 11.2 miles to work and about 12 miles back home in the afternoon with a rambunctious day of working with middle school students in between so I’m pretty much tuckered out by dinner time. Being a teacher means you are active. Maybe some have some time to sit, but I rarely do. Teaching is a workout!

Back to the roadie who dared to pass me. He was in full roadie regalia and I saw him off to my left as I was scanning the streets and taking in the sparkling sunshine. He said, “I decided I probably shouldn’t be pacing off you. So I’ll just pass.” Suit yourself, I thought.

I turned my audiobook off and decided to engage. I launched into conversation, keeping pace with him side by side. He’s likely in his mid to late 40s and he used to race. I’ve never met a roadie who didn’t claim that they used to race. I usually say that I prefer touring to racing, but again there’s very rarely a follow up question about what sort of touring I have done. He says, “I’ve always thought of eBikes as cheating but I can see and hear that you’re working.” Good thing my glasses are tinted because I was rolling my eyes! I was carrying the conversation, so yeah, I was talking and keeping his pace of 19-22 mph in first level of assist on my Specialized Como Turbo eBike. I’m pretty sure I could have kept pace with the electric juice anyway, but I might not have stayed with him for 5 miles. Maybe. But maybe he couldn’t have either.

I was having a blast. But consider this if you will. I am not an athlete. I don’t claim to be athletic or even sporty. I am lucky to keep my weight in check and ride a bike. I have bike commuted for over 20 years. I am average height and weight and I work at eating my salads and not overdoing it on anything. I think even if hired a trainer and worked on speed and climbing and time trials I’d still only manage to be a roadie who could crank it out at 12-15 mph. I don’t have speedy legs. I don’t care about being fast. I do care about getting on my bike everyday and riding my rides and my routes and being in my bike-ish element. End of story. Also, I ride an eBike for commuting, errands and whatever else I want to do but that doesn’t mean I ONLY ride eBikes. I love all my bikes and I ride non-ebikes as much if not more than eBikes. Also it’s assist, not a freakin’ motorcycle or a mo-ped or a scooter. Good grief, people are weird about eBikes and honestly I think it’s bizarre and narrow-minded. Is a carbon fiber frame cheating? Is electric shifting somehow cheating? What about people who drive less than 5 miles? Should we shame them? I mean why didn’t they walk the mile to the store instead of drive? I digress!

He’s a fair-weather cyclist who likes to put in some miles before he goes to work and even though he raced when he was younger it’s hard to get in the miles now. He has had a few different brands of bikes and one of his favorite bikes was a Specialized he had in the 90s. He asked some questions about types of eBikes and he said he was interested in trying it out because clearly you could as I demonstrated get a good workout with one. Plus it could replace a car. I was pleased to hear him say something supportive.

As we got to the part of the conversation that was more, “Well, it was nice talking with you…” I told him to ride like he would normally and I’d pace him. Now whether he was showing off or not, I don’t know, but I paced him at 24.4 for about a mile and then he decided to make a left turn and we waved good-bye.

We like our categories, containers and levels don’t we? I wish we weren’t like that. Bikes are bikes and you should take care of them so they can take care of you. Bikes are transportation and exercise and touring and racing and cargo movers and carts and anything else you need them to be. If you see a person with a certain type of bike you assume things about them. I’ve see more than my fair share of roadies who didn’t look like roadies and I know I don’t look like much of a biker but let’s not let that get in the way of us riding our bikes. Just ride your bike!

Whatever your ride, enjoy it and don’t let anyone give you a flat tire of attitude about how, where, how far or what you ride. Just be you. Get out there and ride your bike and throw a wave along the way because that’s always encouraging.

Take care out there! How do you feel about other riders or bike or interacting with riders you meet on the way?

Thanks for reading.

Bike Goddess

Are We There Yet?

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Remember when…

The classic line uttered by so many of us. We were kids and wanted to get there so we didn’t have to share the backseat or snacks or play stupid car games. As an only child I had none of those issues. I loved having reign over the backseat and sprawling out with my books, workbooks and assorted distractions. But I do recall watching the signs along the way to signal we were getting close to being there.

Truth told, last summer was a different story completely. We were really alone. A few weeks ago I was out there riding my bike and a group of riders heading to one of the local Pedalpalooza rides asked me to join in. Now these are amazing rides with themes like Goth Bike Ride and Dead Baby Prom and Disco Ride plus so many more. I want to ride them all. But there’s something that tugs at me and says, “Nope, not for you. Not yet.” I waved them on and thought, I can’t. Thanks, but I’m not there yet. You might be there, but I am not there. Yet.

Where? You know. There. There is the place where you can be on a bike ride with others and not be consumed with doubt about their health or Covid-19 variants. There is trusting them to tell the truth about being vaccinated. There is not feeling compelled to ask for their vaccination card. There is when you can laugh freely at a joke without wondering about the germs scattered and if you just back up a bit to be safe.

I’m not there. I’m a small group person and the small group is part of a bubble that I do know and trust without question.

Lighthouses are socially distanced. Photo from a recent trip to the Puget Sound.

I know others who aren’t either so I take solace in the fact that I’m not alone in being cautious about being with others. Plus at this point I’m totally enjoying getting lost in my own thoughts or getting lost on a new route. My alone-time will continue.

There is the place and time before it all caved in. Before we all went into our respective caves and stayed apart. Many people have endured more than I can comprehend. If the mask and a vaccine is the least I can do to help others, then sign me up. I was talking with a man who lost his job because of the pandemic. My glass in half full. I’m grateful I have my job. I’m thankful my family and friend are well. I’m grateful for the couple of trips I was able to take this summer. It’s all good in my book.

In Chicago people were masked on the street and inside businesses. However, in the Puget Sound area when I went into a little beach shack on Boston Harbor I saw only two others who were masked and the majority were not. That Includes the cashiers. I couldn’t take it. I was extremely uncomfortable at the sight. I had to get out of there. It’s an anxiety that I’m not familiar with until now. I wanted to exclaim, “You might be there, but I am not there yet, so stop staring. I am a card carrying recipient of the vaccine and I am going to continue to wear a $%&! mask. Deal with it.”

The reality is that I may not be there for quite awhile. I miss the community of riders chatting it up and swapping stories, but not enough to risk my health and the health of others.

Are we there yet? The classic question is part of being a kid and learning how to annoy your parents with such skill that you ask the question often enough that you ultimately get the response, “NO! And stop asking!”

Riding with a friend.

Whether you are there or not is not the point of this blog post. It’s merely to suggest that we respect each other enough to say, “I’m there for you when you feel like riding together again.”

That’s sweet.

Random sunset on the Puget Sound at Boston Harbor.

Thanks for reading my blog. You have no idea how motivating it is when someone clicks that STAR and LIKES a post. It makes me what to vault through the air like Simone Biles. Thanks for being here and there and supporting this little blog. You have yourself a great day and get out there and ride your bike.

Ride on!
Bike Goddess