There was a time when I lived where the only written words in my life were few, and they came from my soul, and they were written in pencil. Some years before that, I was young and fit. BJ – I’ve got the opposite problem. I weigh at least 15 lbs LESS than I did then. I was a fucking rock – and this picture was taken on Thanksgiving 1999, just days after El Tour, where I finished 4:58. I missed the beer tent photo op.
Fast forward to 2008 – and it’s summer in Portland. I live in a finished bedroom in a basement. Every day I wake up, go get coffee, and ride. But not anywhere near the level of before. Just riding around, trying to get in with the cool local bike shops, picking up beer on the way home. In 1999, I used to ride 50 miles with the group, come home, eat, nap in the Tucson noise lullaby, and go out on the bike again to run errands. I once rode to Winkleman on Saturday and back on Sunday – and I took Reddington pass, and if that ain’t hard enough – I had road tires.
But now… now I live where there’s a streak of motor oil on the road when its wet, I get yelled at, called an idiot (for being on a bike) and I sit for many hours in the law library. It’s not a bad life. Could be better. Would be nice to have people to ride with. I miss that, even if they were road snobs with nicer bikes than me.by