Never trust a barbecue joint where the chairs match
*Warning: the following contains various scatological references. If you find this offensive, then I am not sure why you are on a website dedicated to places that a person has urinated….. 10/13/18 – 11/2/18 I have never been a person to devote much thought to the ringer of my phone. I tried once but found
The Fractal Geometry of Nature: Cathedral Gorge to St. George
10/12/18 There is a semi-truck rolling along in front of me. I watch the tall grasses on the side of the road fold over like dominoes in its wake, turning to gold in the sun as they flex forward. It suddenly occurs to me that we’ve temporarily left the dead of Nevada and are now
Fallon Forward
10/4 – 10/10 We decided not to rush Thursday morning as I was hoping to catch the start of the quick draw competition. I wandered the fairgrounds to take in the denim jeans, “Don’t tread on me” belt buckles, and country jams. Old cowboys sat in front of a mirror practicing their stance. Hips forward,
Yer Nanny Jo’s Pear Butter
10/3 Pyramid Lake to Fernley. We ride between the lake and brown sandy mountains for a dozen or so miles. The ground a strange patchwork of black circles where the desert scrub burned in a massive brush fire recently. As the rain drops, the fresh smell of ash and ozone rises. We ride through an
Welcome to Nevada
10/1 – 10/2 Ravendale, CA to Pyramid Lake, NV Pee on desert sage brush on a cold morning and the sweet tender scent will tickle your nostrils. Endless yellow scrub climbs golden mountains. Rattlesnakes sunning themselves in the road and little scorpions crossing the road. I think of Mexico, and crossing that border and wonder
Oregon and Cali Deserts
9/25 – 9/30 Shortly outside of Bend we have to get on Highway 97. It is our first taste of a divided highway. The shoulders are full of debris, although you can usually meander through it. A pickup truck drops a wooden box which gets hit by a semi and explodes. All we can do
Bend is Eugene without Methamphetamine
9/19 – 9/25 Quick breakfast and goodbye to Rachel and Jack. Old men attentively polishing Buick windows and mowing lawns as we leave town on the 126. Pass through slices of Americana with names like Walterville, Vida, Nimrod, and Rainbow. Gas station fried chicken. Two boys pull up outside that know the owners and they
Astoria to Eugene
9/9 – 9/18 Oregon offered so many things. Perhaps most importantly, it offered a great reminder of the complexity of America and the fact that you can’t be too quick to put a personality in a box of assumptions. Leapfrog down the 101 with several other cyclists. Two Italian boys, 19 years old. Flew into
Astoria
9/6 – 9/9 I stood over the toilet, staring at the urine tinted water in the bowl. “If it’s yellow let it mellow,” I said to myself. I let out a sigh as I reached for the handle but then stopped myself. Steve was the kind of guy that seemed about as welcoming and understanding
Washington
8/31 – 9/6 “Two months of traveling and we are back where we started.” Passing the ferry terminal in Bellingham, where we had initially set sale, felt a bit silly. “It’s almost like we’ve accomplished nothing.” We breezed through Washington in about a week. Vancouver to Larrabee State Park. Larrabee State Park to Fort Ebey.