~ Sunday, March 30
Training Camp Road Trippin, vegan style... rolling with the OrganicAthlete Portland vegan cycling crew in some internal combustion powered horse-less carriages out of wet veg paradise towards Sonoma County where the vineyards end as the Pacific begins. Forming what might have been the largest contingent of vegan cyclists this side of India, taking over the rolling hillsides of Northern Cali, a wandering gang of conscientious objectors with 'Go Vegan!' on our butts. 6 banana and celery smoothies for breakfast, jersey pockets filled with nuts and dried fruit, waterbottles filled with fig juice. Certainly a force to be reckoned with as we climbed Cazadero pass and floated mercilessly down to HWY 101 where euphoric manifestations of life changing revolutions emerged. A beauty that California doesn't even deserve, roads made to be ridden. Night time congregations of the church of vegan athletes, an almost spiritual communion of vegetable scrambles and raw tahini and avocado dips. Raw folks consuming massive bowls of green salads and going back for seconds, thirds. Manuel, high on his expresso Gu caffeine buzz, delegating cooking responsibilities on Portland crew's night to make dinner. Closet crammed full of bananas, back porch stocked full of goodies from our sponsors. Gotta love it, Organic Athletes from Victoria, Sonoma County, L.A., Asheville, Bend, and Portland out causing revolution by turning our pedals, fueled entirely by plants.

~ Tuesday, July 10
Curse/Gift My curse as a wannabe racer is endurance, suffering...just not in the way it is a curse for a lot of people. The main snag in my otherwise peaceful groove is that I happen to succeed the longer and more arduous a ride becomes. I would be happy to be a sprinter or strong crit rider, as those efforts are over in a relatively short period of time. Slugging it out for several hours, however, seems to be the devious gift I am supposed to accept. My recent Test Of Endurance mountain bike race showcased that regrettable fact. 50 miles and 7500 feet of climbing in Oregon's unapologetic coast range over NW mud-laen trails takes its toll. My goal was to simply finish, come away with a sense of accomplishment of sorts. When I crossed the finish line what I had gained was an exhausted body, 2nd place in the respectable Sport division, but more importantly and unexpectedly I had gained from the experience so much more than I bargained for. Long rides have a way of playing with your mind. I've learned this several times over on centuries, STP, solo rides, you name it. The monotony and struggle has a flip side which contains a very surreal, hypnotic essence. Pedaling, pedaling. Revolution in it's simplest form. Songs stuck in your head, earworms biting at your core. Pain, thriving, endorpins dripping, lactic acid burning. The silence and supreme peace of the forest. It is magical on the bike, time flowing as fast or slow as a dream. Thoughts come easily, passing time inside yourself while traveling over rocks and mud without full consciousness but still totally aware. Truths reveal themselves like Shamanic visions. There's something happening here. Somewhere around the 25 mile mark and 2.5 hours into the race my thoughts developed more into life lessons, each paralleling the ride. Or rather dealing with each gruelling element of the ride was teaching me something about life beyond the bike. Struggling through yet another uphill on the fireroad was now seen as dealing with the noisy neighbor next door. Both take a certain and similar strength and patience. Getting up after a nasty slide down the mud-laden singletrack became a test of perseverance much like accepting a nasty boss day to day. These newfound realities were buzzing through my psyche at the speed of my cranks turning the chain, and were a welcome escape from the realities of the ride. These snippets of light quickly turned my attention to something very intimate in my mind, the fact that my wife and I are waiting for a baby girl we're in a process to adopt. The thought of her waiting for me at the finish line next year certainly caused a rush on the pedals. The waiting has been difficult, and until that moment, half way through a marathon ride, I hadn't realized that the strain and toil of having to wait so long for her was only going to make it sweeter when she was finally ours. I knew when I finished the race I would be in pain, broken down completely. But with that I also knew that the feeling of crossing the line would make it all worth while. It was then, with my hamstring in excrutiating pain, blood from a hard fall mixing with mud on my knee, that I smiled wider than I had in ages, knowing that sometime soon enough I would have my little girl to teach to ride a bike.

~ Thursday, June 7
Humbled

I should have seen it coming, bicycling to me has become such a passion, and I have a tendency to get a bit wrapped up in my passions. For a few years now I've been toying with the idea of racing, with only the occasional mountain bike or cyclocross race under my belt. Never counted calories, too many in a Black Butte Porter to count, and I wouldn't want to give that up anyways. However, weekly rides with friends that had been ritual leisurely strolls through the hills have started to become incessant challenges, not against the other riders but against myself. It started by nonchalantly keeping an eye on my time up Newton, trying to better my personal best up to the fallen log. Then it turned to wearing a heartrate monitor, which my mountain biking friends still aren't aware of. More lycra, less weight, more supplements. It was changing my bucolic, friendly rides around Forest Park, Scappoose, and everywhere else my tires touched dirt or asphalt into a training ground with racing on my mind.

Welcome PIR, Portland's more accessable racing venue. Every week, another chance to test it. Only thing is, Men's 4/5 is only 6 laps, or ~12 miles. Not much to a race in 12 flat miles, essentially some foreplay with a sprint at the end. Became apparent real quick I'm better at the foreplay then the real show. Finished I think 23rd or something my first race. Man did that burn me, so in true stubborn Torus fashion I picked a road near my house near the school with no traffic and did my first set of intervals. Not knowing exactly what I was getting myself into, I went full out, and it hurt. I had heard from some that if you do it right you should vomit, but I only felt fully exhausted after 12 30 minute intervals. Figured this ought to be good enough. Soon I was finishing top 10 at PIR's, Mudslinger, Estacada TT...feeling good.

Greetings Mt. Tabor Wednesday evening circuit races. Looks like a fun atmosphere, and close to my house so nice to get an easy ride in to the race. Been feeling strong on the hills, so figured I should have some sort of advantage on this hilly route. Even have team mate Ile here to race with. Good times, sunshine and Rasta vibes all around. We're off, and after the first lap I'm still with the pack but panting, feels like a super fast pace, wondering if I'm with the right group. On the second lap start falling off the back, not sure what is going on. Honestly seems strange to me. Been getting more than 200 miles in a week, wife upset that I'm never around, feeling strong. What more do I have to do? Fuck it. Finish 7 laps, feel like puking but only conjure an interior upchuck, those are the worst- burn your throat and no results.

Left wondering if I'm just fooling myself here. Got dropped on the lowest level group, what is the point? Yes I'm challenging myself, but couldn't I continue to do that on my own without getting in the way of people who can obviously ride better? I realize these shorter, full-on efforts like Mt. Tabor are not my style, I know I could crush a lot of those guys if it came to a 100 mile race over Mt. Hood...but still I start to wonder, why even race- it's a foolish dream.

But then for some reason I sign up for the next race. This next one is is the Test of Endurance mt. bike race, 50 miles of pure suffering in the coast range. Good times.

~ Monday, April 2

~ Tuesday, January 16

~ Saturday, October 14
Summer bike digest Oregon summers are created in a dream, and those of us fortunate enough to experience them never want to wake up. For those of us who experience it from atop our bicycle it is especially sweet- a sort of wet dream on wheels. So many perfectly ideal days for a leisurely cruise, local bike events to attend, glorious west hill rides to choose from, and so many smiling faces out and about on two wheels. I'm just now metaphorically geting out of bed, rubbing my eyes, and reminiscing about my glorious summer of riding around Portland. Don't get me wrong, Autumn will surely bring more cycle-joy: cyclocross, crip night time commutes, muddy mountain biking.... but that's for another dream. For now I'm taking a moment to remember the drier days before they fade into the months of soggy Portland drizzle. *Road* It all pretty much started out with the ritual that has become the Seatle to Portland ride. This year I opted for the bike with gears, and ended up quite happy I did. What better way to spend a day than 10 hours riding through two states with a great group of guys?

Then there are the weekend rides that never fail to amaze me. The west hills are my main drug of choice, I keep going back for more...

Any way you point your bike out of town, there is a great ride to be had. Duster and I chose a westerly route out to Hagg Lake: I even got to stop by the market at the lake and stock up on much deserved but unfortunately domestic brew. Earl, Kristen, Jessica, and I got to take a nice stroll around Sauvie Island. I think there were more bicycles on the road then cars. My Jessica looking oh so cute as always, riding in up-right style through the bucolic Sauvie landscape. Of course, I also got to explore a new commute after buying my first house! Found a bicycle boulevard that serves just fine: *Mountain* As fun as it is to swing a leg over the saddle and take off from the front door to the most isolated of hop field-lined roads, the mountain trail has deep roots in me that I can't escape. Literally; I have a root from a trail lodged in my thigh. O.K- maybe not, but I have taken my share of hard spills, and it only makes me feel more alive every time. There truly is a sense of spirituality in the forest that you just can't get on the road. This summer I got a new bike, and I still can't stop staring at her: Our first trip was to Mt. Hood, where we got to know each other on the Umbrella Falls trail: The annual bike-camping-drinking trip with my friends Pack and Paul was nothing short of spectacular. We'd been meaning to make it down to Oakridge for ages, and finally did for three days of epic singletrack in Oregon's quiet mountain bike mecca. I even got Jessica out on the trail at Hagg Lake, which didn't last long- seems I underrated the difficulty of the trail for a newcomer. Sorry Jess! So now here it is, middle of October. There's a cross race tomorrow, there's beautiful leaf covered roads to ride over, and there's sure to be more bikey events around town to attend. I've got to admit I'm bummed about summer being over, but now I'm starting to look forward to pedaling my way into the Portland fog.

~ Friday, August 11
Tagged

Well although I've still been wondering and wandering through Portland on my bicycle, I haven't been too up on writing about it. With new Gestapo-style internet controls at my work I can't even get onto most internet sites, and after a day of dealing with architects and engineers I frankly don't feel like getting in front of the computer again. But to keep the creative juices flowing I've made a pact with myself to at least keep this blog up to date.
That said, I finally got around to even checking this blog and noticed I was "tagged" by a blogger friend at: life-cycle.

So here it goes... Totally non-bike related, but all in good fun.

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. Sandwich maker
2. Bum
3. Drafter
4. Engineering Job captain
(I think being a bum was the most fun.)

Four movies I watch over and over:
1. Godzilla vs. Mothra
2. More (Barbet Schroeder)
3. Space Is the Place (Sun Ra)
4. Fitzcarraldo (Werner Herzog)

Four places I have lived:
1. Mohawk, Oregon
2. Corvallis, Oregon
3. Boulder, Colorado
4. Portand, Oregon

Four TV shows I love to watch:
Well I don't love to watch any TV, but when I do, it's:
1. Oregon Art Beat (OPB)
2. NOVA
3. Absolutely Fabulous
4. Telletubbies

Four places I have been on vacation:
1. Santa Fe, New Mexico
2. Oregon Coast
3. British Columbia
4. Scandinavia

Four websites I visit daily:
1. bikeportland.org.
2. fixedgeargallery.com.
3. shifttobikes.org.
4. ...strict internet controls at work keep me from any others!

Four of my favorite foods:
1. tofu curry
2. seitan pesto
3. vegan burrito
4. nuts

Four places I would rather be right now:
*Needless to say, I'd be on my bike
1. Right here, right now.
2. Mckenzie River trail
3. Mt. Hood National Forest
4. Painted Hills National Monument
(Notice they're all in Oregon!)

Four favorite bands/singers
1. Yo La Tengo
2. Miles Davis
3. Syd Barrett
4. Soft Machine

O.K.- I've been out of the loop for a while, so I'll find 4 bicycle blogging souls to tag as soon as I can...
Happy riding!

~ Thursday, August 10
Back and Forth

One of the beauties of bicycle commuting is you get at least 2 bicycle rides every day. Riding my bicycle is literally the source of the endorphins that keep me going. Stronger than a cup of coffee, I'm awakened by the morning walnut trees along Tillamook Street, the quick downhill rush across 52nd into the Hollywood district, the throng of smiling commuters through Sullivan's Gulch neighborhood, jockeying with the cars as the bike lane along Broadway crosses lanes right where traffic is heaviest, even from the hint of burning in my quads as I finally reach the Broadway Bridge and rally for position with all the other bicyclists on their way to another day at work.
Overworked and underpaid, the bicycle ride back home puts a smile back on my face. From my office near NW 9th and Naito Pkwy, I pedal with a refreshing glee along 9th...

Then turn up towards the Broadway Bridge-

We get our own full lane on this bridge...

...and it's a pretty nice view looking back towards town-
And Ahhhhh, after the hastle of dealing with traffic for 10 or so blocks after the bridge, I'm able to turn up my "Bicycle Boulevard" (Tillamook) and into the peaceful miles of Portland pedaling utopia.

Bicycle Boulevards are non-official designated bicycle routes that are low-traffic neighborhood streets that still generally cater to travel direction. Routes are marked with street signs designating mileage and estimated pedaling time to certain neighborhoods or destinations:

Routes are also strategically marked by little painted bike designators on the road so you know you're on the right track:

Anyways, on to the ride and my heightened sense of euphoria created by the endorphins passing through my veins and the biorhythms that are pulsating in synch to the hypnotic nature of my 46X16 geared pedal stroke.
My eyes can't help but wander as I pass beautiful garden homes I will never afford:

And uniquely Portland style homes that I can only imagine would be perfect places to raise many new bicycles...
...And I continue on, zigzagging along this Bicycle Boulevard from Tillamook to Hancock Street. Just above the Hollywood district, I happily hit the small hills that earlier in the day lent me a nice breezy float down.

From there till my new home in the Montevilla neighborhood in NE, something gets into me and my speed increases. Riding the bike is fun, but I can't wait to get home to my honey and our two super sweet dogs. The next day she will call me at work and ask if I'd pick up a few slices of vegan pizza from Hot Lips and meet her at her office near the Lloyd center for lunch. 2 and a half bike rides for me today!! To the Lloyd district it's a quick jaunt over the Steel Bridge.
(Broadway Bridge in the background).
After a nice lunch with my favorite girl, I decide to make it a little longer ride back and circle around back over the Broadway Bridge. At the end of the bridge is another example of what makes Portland earn its reputation as a bicycle city: dedicated bicycle lights.

I take a right. And get to the office right on time to start dreaming about the next commute home....

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~peace~
kazimar the wanderer