bikes

Sometime over the past couple of weeks I feel like I fell into a bit more of a groove. The early morning coffee production, sometimes with Nic and sometimes without, has been refined to an art. In my ever-sleepy state I am still able to enjoy the hissing of the kettle on the stove and the sharp smell of the grounds.

In retrospect-
Sometimes things are so abundantly obvious as to be invisible. For some reason I couldn't connect to dots from my lack of cycling to my lack of calm. But about a year ago I put down the bike and couldn't pick it back up. There was too much connected to it. Too much riding on all of those memories that always resurfaced with every pedal stroke. Unrelenting thoughts about people connected to the bike world and places I had been. I always came out of that haze feeling like I had failed in some way.
It is always during the hardest times in ones life that we are able to find the things that really give us strength. Hardship brings about the clarity to find inspiration and the recklessness to follow it.

For me, nothing will ever fill the void like the bike. I need that relationship in my life, no matter what form it chooses to take. Coasting down the street on a cruiser brings me as much joy as ripping it at Whistler or squeezing through tiny channels in downtown traffic.
Like an old friend, our relationship does not dwindle with space or time, but I know now that I will always come back to it. That feeling comforts me.

By far, the greatest thing about the human species is our ability to forget.

hide behind.

There is more than our one-dimensional selves. We are more than what we do, or are we?

moderation

Do one thing every day that scares you.


That's what she said to me before we parted ways. When I left, it was bluebird on the mountain and the stillness in the air was making my ears ring. I drove the winding road back to Longmire with the windows down and the music loud. In the day light the Nisqually Glacier looked even more imposing than it had as a shadow the night before.


I've been trying to live by these words or at the very least, remember them. I'm afraid of so much more than I used to be so there is a lot to work with.

Listening to the phone.

Sun is finally out in the morning. Makes it much easier to wake up.
Our house is pretty quiet in the morning these days. Good place for meditation.

marching through those pearly gates.

Progress can be measured in such little bits. It's all about attitude.

The other day my friend Brittany and I attempted to climb at Little Si, only to be shut down by some bad weather. Or, more accurately, some very wet rock underneath bluebird skies. The routes which remained dry from the night before were some scary looking 14's and thus, we made our way back to the parking lot with great hopes of finding some dry rock elsewhere.
One large chocolate-peanut butter milkshake later we were back on I-90, headed towards Exit 38. Which, it turns out, was covered in four inches of snow.


It was at this point that many would have thrown in the towel- remarking on their enduring bad luck, the audacity of the weather in not cooperating, silently berating their climbing partner for wanting to try some "early season" climbing. Fessing is like smoking- you do it even though you know it's bad for you, and despite being bad for you sometimes it feels oh so good.

Yet at that moment Brittany and I, driven by milkshake, looked at one another with sheer determination and both asked, "Well, where to?" It was in that otherwise insignificant moment that I felt my inspiration for climbing swell a little bit. Optimism and determination are contagious and having a climbing partner who appreciates that dynamic can make all the difference. I'm so thankful to be climbing with people these days who just want to have the best time possible.
Really, it's all about attitude.

Too cool for three dollar showers!

Rock climbers are the best.