Friends

What would Superman do?

As I have gotten just a tad bit older, I have come to realize that many of my oldest friends are some of my best friends.  Years and miles tend to separate folks, but common values, experience and history are  that which transcend both time and space; these things are important to me.

My path crossed with Matt's at a formative time of my life nearly fifteen years ago; I feel lucky to have made that encounter.  He was a person I could depend on then, and he is a man I can trust today.  There are few people in my life outside family that I am honestly able to make this affirmation of.

Old school infrastructure, my legs and a stupid plan delivered me on a bike to Matt's doorstep in Cheney for a weekend that I will soon not forget.  I am not a Father, but have a clear understanding that bringing children into this crazy world is the ultimate commitment that any individual can ever make.  I am happy to know that Dr. Silver's genetic package will bless another generation of our planet.

Dr. William Matthew Silvers and I have never, and still don't necessarily see the the world in exactly the same light.  We freely engage in the art of rhetoric on a the Bruyaian level we were indoctrinated in and know that if you wish to prove your point, you had better bring your data.

Despite all, I feel confident that as I walk in this life, those who would call Matt a friend would also be a friend of mine.

That's how I roll,

Matt

Bikes check as luggage in the Amtrak Empire Builder which required collapsing the handlebars, removing pedals and boxing up Adventure Bike.

 If a fellow happens to find himself in the town of Edmonds, WA and in need a cold beer, the American Brewing Company is a fine choice.  In addition to masterfully crafted beer, the establishment is located less than a 1/4 mile from the train station.  With the less-than perfect on time rate that the Empire Builder boasts, being able to drink beer while waiting for a ride is a really nice amenity.

 Better late than never.

 I arrived in Spokane, reassembled my bike and considered an open bivy in the Spokane Train Station for about a millisecond.  A quick ride out of town delivered me to the Fish Lake Trail and a cozy, albeit slightly noisy night nestled between two sets of railroad tracks a safe distance from the wildlife of the city.

Her name is Pepper and she is earns the title every minute of her life.

Functional Fitness defined:  Lifting and transporting odd-shaped, imbalanced and infrequently cooperative objects.  Pepper, Kari, and Clark.

 Dr. Silvers and his environmental condition chamber at the Human Performance Lab at Whitworth University.

 There is strength in Solitude and I can't wait for Matt to take her for the first spin.

 Successfully raising a two-year-old girl and twin yearlings requires a certain amount of routine and a little insanity.   As far as I can ascertain it revolves heavily around meals, diaper changes, naps and playing.   

Hobbit Houses. Cheney, WA.

The Cheney Normal School Heritage Center stands on the campus of Eastern Washington University as a tribute to, and record of the long history of the rural American one-room schoolhouse.

What could possibly go wrong with a little compressed gas, a lighter, marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers?

Dr. Silvers teaching Clara the basics about playing with fire. 

Good clean living.  Kari and I had a few for brunch on Sunday as well. 

Matt secured an afternoon hall pass and joined me on a pleasant mixed-surface ride from rural Cheney to the City of Spokane.

Although not being on the original itinerary, you really can't pass up a gravel road with a name like this.

Needless to say, I was compelled to take a roll on Greenwood as well.

Jake the Snake (aka Jake the Mistake).  The custom paint job, matching stem caps and self designed graphics on the 2001 Kona speak volumes of the attention to detail that characterizes anything that my friend Matt touches.

The Empire Builder rolls through Spokane at the slightly inconvenient hour of 2 am. Andy's on West 1st Street is open until 2 am and boasts an exceptional menu of NW Microbrews and a bike sculpture out front.  Coincidence?  I think not. 

Smoke break.  Wenatchee, WA.

I hopped off the train in Everett and rode to Mom and Dad's for a little refuel and a nap.  The Big Jim Special is not light in any sense of the word; but it sure hits the spot for a slight hangover and a couple hours of sleep on a train. 

Foolish Things

 

Smiles don't lie.  Halfway there and ready for more.  

Expedition Rules as according to my friend Alan:

1)  Come home alive.

2)  Come home friends.

3)  Come home with summits.

You will do foolish things, but do them with great enthusiasm.

-Sidonie Gabrielle Collete

I spun up the hill in my granny gear off the I-90 bridge on to Mercer Island and pulled over for a minute to wait for Jeff.  A couple riders on five-thousand dollar titanium bikes turned and looked at my shit show.

Looks like you need some more stuff to carry on your bike, can I give you some weight, one said with a bit of friendly sarcasm. 

Do you have to pay vehicle tax on that rig?, his buddy chimed in.

Not to be outwitted, I quickly retorted, Won’t take anything less than ten pounds fella’s;  The momentum just wouldn't be worth the inertia.    

They looked confused, laughed and one continued, Where are you going?

We're going climbin' out at Mount Si….If we get one pitch in today I'll be stoked,  I called out over my shoulder as Jeff caught up and we continued crawling up the hill. 

Little Si crags lie thirty-five miles east of Seattle, tucked in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains near the town of North Bend. Certainly not world class cragging by any stretch of the imagination, but by my shady research the nearest natural stone climbing to the city.  A 100 miles of riding and a few pitches of rock climbing seemed like a reasonable plan as I tipped back my forth and final beer on Friday night.  If I keep doing sober what I dream up drunk, I just might quit drinking.

I biked over to Jeff's place a little later than anticipated, but the skies were blue and spirits were high as we headed east over I-90 towards the Cascades on the Mountains to Sound Greenway. The morning unfolded into early afternoon as we climbed on dirt and gravel through the steeply timbered Issaquah-Preston trail away from the constant noise and heavy air of the City.   

My prospective shortcut between Preston and Snoqualmie didn’t quite work out like I planned, but  I learned a lot in the process and got to hike my bike through stinging nettles and the feces of native macrofauna.

When Jeff emailed from Palo Alta and said he wanted to shut off his personal homing device for the weekend and go on an adventure, I eagerly went to work planning something 'fun'.  Jeff is an interesting character and tougher than most folks I know.  He doesn’t say much, but when he speaks, something  intelligent and honest usually comes out of his mouth.   As we emerged from our little misguided bikewack,  Jeff finally spoke.

I should have known better than to follow your crazy ass out here to drag my bike through the brush and take pictures of bear shit.

I agree,  you should have known better, I responded with a grin; guess it just goes to show that you’re not very smart.

We pulled out the map and had a look at the damage.   I was really quite amazed that it had taken this long for Jeff to question my suspect judgment, but in any case he piped up.

So with our little bear shit examination sidetrack, we’re basically going to ride a century today and do some rock climbing along the way, he calmly stated without a hint of resignation.

Yeah, more or less, I responded with an optimistic smile. 

Jeff let the whole thing soak in.  Twenty long seconds of silent appraisal and Jeff continued, 
You realize the most miles I have ever ridden in a day before was when you and I went out to bivy on Vashon Island for the night.  How far was that?   

I sensed that Jeff may be beginning to doubt the feasibility and supreme intelligence of my plan and I needed to act quickly.

Mmmm, maybe 35 miles out and 35 miles back the next day, I hesitated for affect;  but you have a really strong head Jeff, and you have done way harder things than this before, I reassured. 

Let me know if you want to go home, I threw in for good measure.  I knew if I put the white flag in Jeff's court we could likely ride to the Atlantic Ocean. 

I continued with honesty,

Jeff, if you stop having fun let me know and we turn around, I have already had a great time today and learned a lot of things I never knew.  We can go home and drink beer and I will be happy as a clam.

My words bounced off Jeff as he saddled his ride; 

I am not going home, but I might just sleep in a motel in North Bend, Jeff chuckled as we headed back in the direction we had come from an hour before.  Once a Marine, always a Marine.

We arrived at the Little Si Trailhead late in the late afternoon and quickly repacked climbing gear into backpacks, stashed the bikes and set-out.  Steadily we moved up the trail occasionally being passed by small children and  overweight mothers with strollers until voices calling from the cliffs above the trail let us know we had arrived at our destination.

Several years had passed since my last visit, but memories of a day spent clipping bolts with Gene came back to me as we scrambled the steep bouldered path to the base of an abrupt dark wall of stone. 

I counseled with the locals and consulted a guidebook to select the most appropriate climbing objective for the day.  One hundred miles is a long way for a pitch of climbing and you gotta make it count. However, my mediocre rock climbing skills and my desire not to fall on a buddy who hadn’t been climbing in ten years also weighed in heavily on my selection of  ‘Human Feet"; a juggy and well-protected 5.8 on Blackstone Wall.   

I led up steadily, albeit slowly as Jeff fed out rope smoothly like he had done it before;  my confidence in his ability to catch my fat ass should I fall grew exponentially as I gained ground.

A few hidden side pulls and a balancey high-step found me clipping the chains with a smile.  With the involved approach, this was most definitely the hardest 5.8 I have ever led.  It would be boastful to claim the first completely human powered accent, plus nobody would really care; but what the hell, I am going to do it anyhow.  

Jeff and I got our summit last weekend.  We went on an adventure with a sense of exploration and a willingness to be a little uncomfortable for a few hours.  Even if was only a pitch of bolted 5.8 in North Bend, we went on a creative and challenging expedition; I feel a lot better friends with Jeff for the process.  For that I am thankful.

In any case,  nobody died and Jeff got to sleep in his own bed.

That’s how I Roll,

Matt

 

I thank the engineers and city planners who put a bike path on I-90, it opens up non-motorizd transportation to the east side of Lake Washington and beyond.

 

Saturday fish'n' under the I-90.

 

The Mountains to Sound Greenway is the real deal.  Although I discovered a small gap in the network on this particular trip, it is the best game in town when it comes to getting me into the Cascade Mountains via  bike.

 

Jeff's new ride.  In my not so humble opinion, Salsa Bikes has got it figured out when it comes to delivering a rad adventure bike out of the box for a reasonable price.    

 

Crossfit.

 

Lions and tigers and bears!  Oh my!

 

Bikewack, closely related to the bushwack.  It seems the term is previously unmentioned in the biking literature and thus I claim intellectual property.  BW1:  Rider can expect conditions non-condusive to efficient forward travel of the bicycle through pedaling.  Riders should expect significant undergrowth of road or path due to disuse or lack of maintenance for several years. Occasional lifting of bicycle over impediments of forward progress will be present. 

 

Dead end for all but the most brave of heart and small of brain.

 

I have never been lost, but I have definitely made decisions that have cost adventures a lot of time and effort.  

 

Rocket fuel.

 

Health food. The overall caloric load and distribution of macronutrients in this candy bar and most leading sports nutrition bars are nearly identical.  While I agree the that quality of ingredients and overall  nutritional value of the product is low, one must train the body to digest foreign and unnatural products if one ever dreams of completing the Tour Divide.  They are much cheaper as well.

 

High point for the day.  Human Foot, Blackstone Wall, Little Si Crags.

 

The latest in performance cycling footware.

 

21st Amendment's Brew Free or Die IPA is a fine recovery drink and a great beer.  I have a soft spot for beer in cans as well.  

My Mother

Spencer Island Park is a cooperative between Snohomish County and the Department of Fish and Wildlife.  It is an outstanding park conveniently located close to Everett in the Snohomish River estuary.

My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.
~Mark Twain

While experts disagree slightly on the specifics, most academics in the field of early childhood development agree that the core of our personality is formed by the time we are five years old.  When my mom gets pissed at me for being the condescending asshole that I often am, I like to lovingly remind her that the formative years of my life were spent largely hanging out with her at home.  I am nothing more than the product of her parenting.

See what I mean about being a condescending asshole.

The truth is that all of what is kind, patient and empathetic in me came from my mother and I am forever thankful for her influence in my life.

That's how I roll,

Matt

I have said it before and I will say it again, the Interurban Trail is a truly a gem of the greater Seattle Metro area.  To the North, the Interurban connects Seattle to the suburban cities of Montlake Terrace, Lynwood and Everett  It seems every time I ride this trail north, it improves a little more.

When I planned the route for the day, I was really uneasy about crossing the Snohomish River on Highway 529.  I was pleasantly surprised with a protected walking path over the river.  

Looking East from the 529 Bridge over the Snohomish River.  Mount Pilchuck is he most dominant gray lump in the distance.

Langus Riverfront Park, Everett Wa.

Big Red and Little Chris.

Jackknife Bridge spanned Ebey Slough on the Homeacres Road from 1914 until 1980; my Mother undoubtedly drove me across the bridge in my early childhood.  In 1993 it was floated over to Union Slough to provide pedestrian access to Spencer Island.

A fine looking couple.