Saturday, December 11, 2010

The Road to Vashon

Jenny and watched the not so uplifting adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's The Road the other night. Filmed in mono-chromatic landscapes filled with the scars of industrialization, director John Hillcoat did a wonderful job of painting a haunting picture of a post-apocalyptic world void of all but the most resilient, amoral and sometimes cruel beings.
Riding from Seattle to Vashon this weekend, Jen and I stopped under the West Seattle Bridge and spent several minutes just taking it all in. The eery similarities to the film captured us both. Above us towered thousands of tons of concrete that if left unmolested will stand for a thousand years. Under us what was once Duwamish River looked more like and industrial dump site than a natural resource. We stood in wonder of how long ago Salmon ran so thick through this waterway that one could walk their backs shore to shore? 100 years, 200 years ago? Surely a blink in the history of this place, but in that same blink look at we have "accomplished". I turned on the TV at the B&B Jen and I stayed at and learned that I will likely live to see the extinction of the Orca . Apparently they are starving to death. If we can not save this icon of our beautiful home, what makes us think we can save ourselves? We live an illusion of infinite economic and industrial expansion amidst finite resources, it seems to me part of a larger global race to the bottom. Everywhere we went this weekend I found myself saddened by the destructive hands of man on the order of nature; but in the midst of this destruction there is always life claiming it's place and fighting back. We too shall come to pass.
When I started riding bikes they were nothing more than a fitness tool, a means to fill the a void left in my life by chronic running injuries. Over time the bike has come to shape the way I view the world and taught me lessons about life. The bigger your life gets, the more it weighs you down. The faster your life goes, the more you miss. Less is more. Last is first.
While the direction that our world is headed causes dark times in my life, I am thankful for the opportunities I have to enjoy the beauty and joy that is around us. I will do my part to preserve it by approaching it on two wheels.



Concrete Jungle.

The moss will eventually win.

Sky Scraper.

The world will be a much better place after I shave my one month attempt at a moustache.

The Captain and Me.

Every day is a great hair day.

The Vashon Island Coffee Roasterie has a long and rich history in the NW. A great place to have hot coffee on a cold day and a look around.

The sign reads "Objects found in beans between 1984-1989 here at the Roasterie R1"

The Bicycle Tree, Vashon Island. Nature wins again.

Nature's Recyclers

Jenny loves the feel of my moustache against her face...

...and is saddened by the thought of me shaving.

Pretty OK winter day at the beach.

Equal parts Styrofoam and natural sea detritus. Charming.


Not your average cinnamon roll. Monkey Tree Cafe, Vashon Island.

A professional. This guy ran after us for 2 miles uphill before I caved and gave him a chunk of my meat stick. I think he would have came home with us if he could have kept up.

Spin with a view. Open all day every day.

As usual, it is important to rehydrate after a ride.

News spreads quick on Vashon, a barn fire north of town the culprit here.

No photography skills here. Just dumb luck.

Home sweet home.

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