FLASH-POINT BLOG ARCHIVE: Jul 2009

It's noon on July 12. Arriving in Washington, DC, I feel a familiar sort of nervous energy that by now I almost 100% associate with Bike and Build. Excited and nervous to be out on the bike - wondering if I would be strong enough to conquer the high mileage and more than ready to feel my leg width increase with every pedal stroke. Also though, a potential dread about meeting so many new people - as many times as I've purposely put myself in similar situations, I still can't help but feel a knot in my stomach. What if they don't like me?

I'm at the church and meet the leaders and so many people whose names seem impossible to remember - AP, JJ, JD... what the hell is up with all the initials for names? Then, Kristy and Kristin and which one is which? Of course, a bunch of girls who are known mostly by their last names, but you know me - not all that team-sporty of a chick. Still, I try to go with the last name thing even though it feels completely and totally foreign and the words just seem to get stuck in the back of my throat, no where near the tip of the tongue where they need to be.

People seem nice and friendly and almost interested to meet me though, and so maybe everything will be a-ok.

Leader Alana and I find a ride to the bike shop to get my bike, where I indulge in new tires, since the ones currently on the bike had somewhere near 4,000 miles on them, and the last man I had check my bike gave it a 'Honey, you're riding on a wing and a prayer here, but have fun...'

Back to the church, where I attempt to put the bike together and the new tires on, cursing myself the entire time for not shelling out the $35 to have the bike put together at the store. Of course once it's done, I'm glad to still have the money in my wallet, but during the hour-long pathetic process, I felt like an imbecile and an idiot - I'm so damn uncoordinated, everything keeps falling, people are watching, and what if I don't put it together correctly and forget to tighten something and then die because I'm too stingy to ask for help?

The bike is put together, the chain untangled and everyone seems to be just sitting around the church. I'm completely exhausted from the Alaskan time zone, soul shattering audition #too-many-to-count, 5-something wake-up call, and cooped-up airplane ride, but a nap doesn't really seem to be an option; I'm not yet used to the reality of my thermarest or a noisy communal bedroom.

Leaders Scott and Alana, Carboni, and I decide to head out for a ride. I would love to ride around DC, stretch my legs, and just generally test out my bike; it's better than something goes wrong today than tomorrow - today, we'll be nearby and out 'just for fun'; tomorrow, I would have to call the rescue van...

Plus, getting to know a few people at a time seems easier than attempting to emerge myself in the whole group dynamic at the same time. Everyone has the mid-trip attitude - grumpy and lethargic; it's kind of funny, but I definitely hope people are a little more positive on riding days (days off can be hard mentally).

The weather is perfect for riding and DC is beautiful. I haven't been downtown since my Aunt Sandy and Uncle William's wedding in 1993 or so. I see all the monuments again for the first time, and we all take a bazillion pictures - all except for me. I hate my portable camera and decided not to use it on this trip. I'll rely on other people's group photos, and invest in a new riding camera once I've done the research and have the money. So, once the photos are up on Facebook, I'll update this post with a plethora of pictures.

We see a little bit of everything; we don't climb the steps to see the statues, but we ride the circle around the city, stopping every couple hundred feet for a new photo op; we definitely took some brochure-worthy shots. Riding by the White House, the guards comment on my clip-in sandals, then tell us we have to stay further back than normal. Apparently an Obama is home; is that him milling around the garden? It's too far away and I can't tell for sure. At the Lincoln Memorial, standing on the pillars with bikes held over our heads, crowds of Chinese tourists jump into our picture and take photos of themselves with us. We step down from the shakey pedestals and the tourists continue to take pictures, the kids wanting to put their arms around me and touch my bike. I feel a little bit like a superstar, but I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts and I don't remember anything ever being so funny.

Heading back to the church after the 3-hour tour and 20 or so touring miles, and I notice my handle bars aren't quite facing straight ahead. That's weird; I don't remember noticing that earlier in the ride. Of course - I didn't tighten the screws. It's silly, careless, and stupid, and I should have triple checked my bike before setting out for a ride. Still, it's good I realized now instead of during a decent.

There aren't any showers at the church, so we grab the hose, and clean off with by sticking soap down our bike shorts... it's cold and fun and the trees act as a clothes rack to hold our jerseys. My hair seems irreparably tangled, but I don't care - it's Bike and Build and I love it.

Once again, lying around the church, trying to decide what to make for dinner. Eating handfuls of tortilla chips and salsa without any sort of control, a bowl full of Special K, peanut butter, jelly, and honey - it's not as good as it sounds. But, before you know it, I'm full and tired and I think it's time for bed, formal dinner or not. Lots of good jokes are told, and Kristin told Leader Scott she thought he 'could go all night'.

Everyone else is filtering back into the church; I help carry some new Trader Joe's donation groceries into the kitchen, brush my teeth and ignore my mess of hair, and set out my thermarest in the room that seems to have the most functional fan. I try to charge my powerless phone near me, but all the close outlets are taken; I therefore ignore my fast accumulating email and voicemail, and close my eyes. I'm exhausted and fall asleep almost immediately; I don't think I even notice when the lights were officially turned off or when someone trips over me in the middle of the night.

In the morning, it's time for the real Bike and Build trip to begin. Nerves or not, we're going to head out to Frederick, MD, home of the Frederick Keys, the minor league baseball team at whose stadium Boy had his 8th birthday party.

Tomorrow starts another Bike and Build trip. This time we're biking from Washington, DC to Philadelphia. It's not all that far (about 250 miles, by the route we're taking), but it'll be a blast. 4 days of riding, 2 days of building, and by the end of it, my quads will be back in shape and maybe I'll have even learned another thing or two about building houses.

But more important than that, I'm SO ready for the freedom allowed by being on the road. No worries about the boy or the flute or anything else. All I have to do is get from Point A to Point B via my 2 wheels.

The mantra?

Two wheels good, four wheels bad.
(nothing like a little bit of mis-guided Orwell to spice up a week-long bike trip.)

Updates along the way, I 100% promise...

My bike group does a ride every Tuesday morning from 6:30-8:00. I am on a "Summer Hours" schedule and have to be at work by 8, so I haven't been going on the rides recently. Today I decided it would be better for me to get out and do 45 minutes than nothing at all, so I went to the ride. The original plan was that I would join the group and do intervals with them until 7:15 or so and then head out.

The Tuesday rides are in Griffith Park, which is adjacent to Forest Lawn Cemetery. And if you have been following the news at all, you know that's where the King of Pop is being buried today. Griffith Park was in a virtual lockdown; our usual parking lot was closed to prevent looky-loos from heading over to the cemetery. We found some parking spaces in a smaller lot and prepared for the ride.

I admit, I started getting curious about the funeral. We were only 3 miles from the cemetery, and I just wanted to see the madhouse that was forming there. I saw the satellite trucks lining up outside several days ago on another ride, and could only imagine how much bigger things were now. So I decided to split from the group and ride over to Forest Lawn. I knew all of the roads were closed to vehicular traffic, but I figured they'd let a harmless triathlete through. Not a chance. I got within a mile of the place and there was an army of police turning away everyone who came by. I didn't get to see a thing.

The good news is that my car commute to work took to me very close to the cemetery again, but the freeway was wide open. Hopefully it will stay that way for the ride home.

Biking in Alaska is amazing and I have so much to write about and so many pictures to post. I'll be biking from Washington, DC to Philadelphia next week, so before I leave for that trip, I'm hoping to get caught up with sharing all the Alaska biking adventures over the weekend. Stay tuned; it's been awesome.