I came across this video today about biking in DC. It was made and submitted in response to the Project Report competition, which is a partnership between Youtube and Pulitzer that goes about telling different stories. This video was submitted for Round 2 of the competition, that being it was for telling the story of a local issue that also reaches into a more global realm.
“A Virtuous Cycle: Bicycling in DC” examines how Washington, DC is incorporating bicycling into its transportation infrastructure. Much like cities across the world, DC is feeling the effects of years of dependence on cars: pollution, congestion, obesity. This documentary takes a look at why DC sees bicycles as part of the solution to some of these issues and what challenges it is facing with the increased popularity of biking.
A Virtuous Cycle: Bicycling in DC
Smartbike has been rolled out in the District, and I have seen quite a few people on these bikes. I just hope that the local biking associations are doing all they can to protect riders by lobbying for new bike paths, etc, because I for one have had plenty of close calls.
Mike Lawson
District of Columbia
outsideallday.com contributor
…or else you might end up like this woman, with no one to pry a rabid fox from your arm! Gnarly story! Wish they had pictures! (But I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be better than the images I have generated in my head)
PRESCOTT, Ariz. (AP) - With a fox locked onto her arm, an Arizona jogger ran a mile to her car, where she was able to dislodge the animal, throw it into the trunk and drive to a Prescott hospital. The Yavapai County Sheriff’s Office said the fox, which later attacked an animal control officer, tested positive for rabies.The unidentified Chino Valley resident told deputies she was on a trail Monday at the base of Granite Mountain when the fox attacked, biting her foot. The woman said she grabbed it by the neck when it went for her leg and it latched onto her arm…
So we’ve been having the classic “Indian Summer” out here on the east coast and I’ve been loving it. Normally we’re seeing the temps dip around this time of year, but its been in the upper 70s to low 80s all week. Tuesday night after work a couple co-workers and I decided that early sunsets weren’t going to keep us from hitting a few, so we made a visit to Top Golf . Let me just reiterate, I love Top Golf. It’s like a giant video game for adults. Each ball has a chip inside of it, and it’s programmed with your information. You hit just like at a normal driving range, but the flags are in the middle of giant circles that give you points depending on how close to the pin you get. It’s great for practicing your accuracy, however, it also made me realize I need to have some extended sessions with my driver…
Top Golf
Mike Lawson
District of Columbia
outsideallday.com contributor
The Tri-California Folks have sure found a beautiful setting for the Tinley races. Lopez Lake is tucked away in San Luis Obispo County closer to vineyards and wine tasting rooms than persistent fog of Morro Bay or the heat of Atascadero. These races were a Senior Project at Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo – and let’s hope the student got an A – because it was a great idea.
Yesterday the weather was beautiful. The rain of Saturday that we missed altogether by arriving near 3 PM for check-in had already come and gone. Becky and I found ourselves sitting in warm sun staring at a glimmering lake. Check-in was cheerful and I pulled the race bike out and took off to get a practice lap in. We met Stu after his on-road Tri awaiting the next day’s off road tri (by Sunday afternoon he was awash in race metals). Stu is awesome. On Sunday from the awards stand he said “there should be more parents and grandparents joining me”.
I got back to the Subaru and the seat post was still swiveling and I made a mental note to fix that later along with trimming my new running shoe laces. As I drove towards SLO on the 227 I was a bit frustrated that I couldn’t figure out my new Specialized bike computer, my throat was sore and I was tired. The computer was spitting out non-rational data and I was too. We had a big dinner and the shared a lovely evening catching up with my Aunt and Uncle overlooking Laguna Lake with Madonna and Bishop Peaks in the background into the night.
We left the house late and made in down Orcutt to the race with very few minutes to spare. I had no warm-up to speak of due to struggling with the seat post I had mentally noted to solve the day before. The laces never got cut. It is race time now and all that must go away. 26 weeks of training were complete.
Swim Finish: 13:37
Bike Start: 15:57
Bike Finish: 2:02:00
Run Start: 2:02:43
Run Time: 54:09
Finish Line: 2:56:52
10th overall (of 31)
2nd in age group (of 7)
I got a bit confused on the swim forgetting that I needed to pass the marina to get to the Swim Out section. I made some of the time back by knowing the first two miles of the ride as well as anyone. That helped me pass one guy within 50 yards and hold off a charge until the last few yards of the first technical section.
Without a warm-up I was left gasping for air within the first 30 minutes. I had to slow, cough very hard and slow even more. The climb out of Boy Scout land was brutal. Very brutal. I remembered it pretty well from last year so it was easier this time but I found myself in no mans land. By slowing so abruptly during my gasping period I lost contact with the strong racers. I slipped from being third at one point to somewhere near 10. Second thoughts about training, sleeping and working filled my rapidly unfocusing mind. Now I was chasing two guys uphill off my bike and in the heat. I lost them and I took my eye off the trail and into the surrounding hill sides. Beautiful, stunning and serene. Soon I was descending. My new bike was still a bit new underneath me and I did my best to trust it. I stood to stretch my legs. I took a deep breath and relaxed my wrists. The trail was coming fast and soon I was sliding above my very fast tires that lacked many gripping knobs to slow my pace. I remembered some snowboarding techniques and made the delicate section.
Without anyone around my pace was solely mine. Probably great for Lance, Miguel or Greg – but not me. I gained focus into the second lap. Every section of the technical portion was made without touching down. I was able to pass slower racers from the sprint race in great locations. Thanks everybody for making that safe and easy.
On the run, I ran to chase down the next racer I saw: some sprinters, and hopefully one or two extreme distance riders. The finish line came up on time. Thanks Tri-California. Thanks Tinley.
This weekend I’ll be laboring through the 24th annual Army 10-Miler. This is the largest 10-mile race in America with a 2007 registration totaling 26,000. This may be due to the incredible course –it begins and ends at the Pentagon, passes by the Lincoln and the Jefferson Memorials, and crosses right in front of the Capitol building. I’ll admit, my training leading up to this run hasn’t quite been up to par, and I know I won’t be breaking any records. At least I won’t be running in combat boots.
Last weekend I was able to enjoy a great ride through the streets of DC.
BikeDC was organized to benefit the Washington Area Bike Association, and was extremely well done. Not often are you able to ride unrestricted through Washington streets. Normally you’re dodging the overly agressive cab drivers or negotiating the huge pot holes while trying not to hit the Washington elites yelling at their interns on their blue tooths.
But not so this day. This day we had an all access pass to some of the most beautiful streets in all of Washington. And I must say it was rather gratifying having Metro PD halting some seriously ticked Washingtonians while riding down Pennsylvania Ave. It was also gratifying to be riding my brand new Specialized Hardrock Sport, despite some minor technical difficulties.
After the ride, I decided that I really need to start getting more involved with WABA. According to their web site, “the mission of the Washington Area Bicyclist Association is to create a healthy, more livable region by promoting bicycling for fun, fitness, and affordable transportation; advocating for better bicycling conditions and transportation choices for a healthier environment, and educating children, adults, and motorists about safe bicycling.” Not to mention the fact that on Sunday they offered a free Bike Valet service to bikers at the Crafty Bastards art festival. I’ve never valeted my bike before, but I could definitely get used to it.
So I was just checking out my favorite DC blog when I stumbled upon all sorts of great bike happenings coming up in the month of September. First off is the ING Direct Capital Criterium.
“Sure, most of us won’t get to ride the 1 km course, but watching will more than make up for it. And if you don’t think any of the big guns will show, think again — yesterday news hit that Christian Vande Velde, an American who placed fifth in the Tour de France, will be racing alongside his Garmin-Chipotle teammates. The course layout is perfect for public viewing, and considering that DDOT is repaving Pennsylvania Avenue ahead of the 2009 presidential inauguration, it’ll be a fast race.”
Second, and more my pace, is Bike DC on September 27. One of the most frustrating parts about trying to bike in the district is dodging the cars/trucks/pedestrians/politicians/etc, so the lure of obstacle free roadways is very enticing. Add to that what seems to be a laid-back vibe (“Bike DC is a ride, not a race”) and the beauty of our glorious city, and you’ve got the perfect morning.
“The Mother of all Relays” is by far the Nike Hood-to-Coast. This brute of race starts from the top of Mount Hood and ends at Seaside, OR. This is 197 miles of running.
Team Bramley consist of myself, Andy, Anjum, Ashish, Cole, Craig, Dan, Jamie, Julie, Kendra, Karen, Kevin and Pat. Our team was the dream team of runners. Jamie is a track star, Dan and Karen were destroyers, Ashish was a stud, Craig was the mentor, Anjum was Miss Consistent, Julie was brought there for her skills on the hills and comedy, Kevin was the local boy, Andy was Mr. Cool, Kendra was bringing up the rear with a mouth full of gum, Cole the Team Manager and Alex “quick out the gates” Omel.
Needless to say, this was the toughest race that any of us has run. We started the race at the top of Mount Hood at 4pm on Friday, August 22nd. I ran the third leg of the relay. My first leg was 3.98 miles downhill and I came out of the gates fast. I finished my first leg in just over 25 minutes.
This is where the race gets harder. Each of us started at different times, I started my first leg at 5:00pm on Friday. The 12th leg started at 12:00am on Saturday. After each of us finished our first leg we each had to wait roughly 6-7 hours to run again. This is why it is called the “Mother of all Relays”. Your body gets cold, your legs get stiff and you are trying to get as much sleep as you can before the next leg of the race in the back of a minivan.
My second leg was at 2:30am and it was the worst run of my life. 7.98 miles uphill. It took me forever to get my legs. Running in the middle of the night was not fun.
My third leg I was fired up, I wanted to run my heart out. My final leg was 6.54 miles of rolling hills. I ran hard but it was a very tough run because my legs were tired and I was ready for bed by this point.
Kendra ran the final leg of the race cross the finish line for Team Bramley in 26:33:28.
Team Bramley killed it! We averaged 8:05 miles for 197 miles.
Overall this race was the most difficult race I have ever run. The stopping and starting, running at 2:30am in the dark, no sleep for 26 hours takes its toll. This was the most grueling and most enjoyable race I have ever run. If you are a runner this race should be on the top of your list.
Built in 1901 to serve as a way to get workers and materials across the Chorro falls in Spain, El Camino Del Rey is now a trail of the ghosts of both these workers and the adventurers who’ve tried to cross since – four tourists died in 1999 and 2000 alone. It has since closed, as you’ll see why in the clip. If this video doesn’t get your blood racing I’m not sure what will.
Our first lengthy break was at 10:35 when we encountered our first of many green, flowery meadows. We crossed a creek at 11:10 with crystal clear water and a fallen log bridge or a rock-to-rock alternative. At 12:05, we stopped for lunch just after another stream crossing. Beside the stream it was nicely shaded. Beef jerky, Odwalla bars, crackers, Velveeta “cheese”, peanut butter and trail mix. (We didn’t laugh at the cheese. It keeps well at high altitude and in the heat.) We lunched for about 45 minutes, then Mark said he wanted to take a nap since none of us really had slept on the six-hour drive. The nap was the best I ever had in the Sierra. We were on our way again, refreshed, after about an hour. We hiked another hour before a break at 1:45. Matt totally surprised us with a quarter each of a delicious fresh peach.
We left the national forest, entered the Golden Trout Wilderness Area, and after a while the John Muir Wilderness. We all seemed to be tiring, and Marvin seemed to know exactly when to stop, rest, and often to take in the beauty. We inspected the topo map many times to check our progress and where we had to go. Cirque Lake lost out as our destination when we heard there were three parties already camping there. Muir Lake was considered, but it was over 1,000 feet higher than we were. Finally we settled on South Fork Lake. We saw light at the top of a ridge which indicated a possible lake. It was indeed a lake at the head of a large meadow which eventually will replace the lake. We got there at 5:30 and we were at 10,300 feet, ready to crash. A small steam led out of the lake about 75 feet from our selected campsite. Water was filtered to refill our bottles and we began heating water for dinner.
Marvin’s menu included sweet and sour shrimp casserole, navy bean soup, dark chocolate, and trail mix, accompanied by another of Matt’s surprises, a nice Cabernet. Delicious!
After dinner, there was a cleaning-up period, more visiting, and appreciation of a moonless sky which made stargazing much more rewarding. It was a mild night, windless, and mostly free of mosquitoes. The forecast was for a minimum temperature of 50 degrees. We thought that was accurate. Marvin produced a bottle of brandy to induce or assist sleep.
Participants: Mark Bair, Doug Buckmaster, Matt Smart, and Marvin Sosna
Friday, 8/1 — Expecting to be picked up at 12:45, my alarm sounded at 12:20, so I was dressed when I went to the front door to turn on the porchlight. I was met by a powerful flashlight, held by Mark. We loaded my gear in Marvin’s 1997 Honda Prelude. His and Mark’s packs and gear were jammed into the “trunk”. Mark curled up in the back seat with my pack frame, I sat in the passenger seat, and we took off at 12:45 a.m., odometer reading 30.0. (Yes that was 45 minutes past midnight. Great way to see month’s end.)
Marvin encountered deer on Cambria’s streets in both directions.
Saturday, 8/2 — Back on Hwy 1, we headed south to Hwy 46 in moonless darkness and almost no traffic.
Mark tried to sleep as Marvin and I got more acquainted, discovering he knew my father-in-law, Vern Gilbert, when both worked at the Ventura County Star-Free-Press, Marvin as Editor; Vern, in the pressroom, in 1964. We reminisced about the county in the Fifties and Sixties. Our first stop this morning was 2:30 a.m. at a huge gas station in Lost Hills where premium gas was $4.45 (4.524 gal and 27.4 mpg. - Marvin had been driving a little like Mario Andretti). He turned the driving over to Mark, assuming the “sleeping” position in the back seat in deference to my long legs. It was very warm in Lost Hills.
We continued east on Hwy 46, then south on Hwy 99 to Bakersfield, and east again on Hwy 58 to Tehachapi.
We met very few cars, but a lot of 18-wheelers. The next stop was east of Tehachapi when I needed a pit stop and took over the driving from Mark. We bypassed Mojave, merged with Hwy 14, then 50 miles or so later, merged with Hwy 395. We stopped at Coso Hot Springs (it used to be called Oasis) at the rest stop, then drove on to Lone Pine.
We reached the Sierra Visitor Center at 7:00 AM, about five minutes after Matt arrived from his 3:00 a.m. departure in El Segundo. Marvin picked up his reservation from the locked box. It covered him and Mark. Matt and I had to take a chance on a permit from the first come, first served category, but that had to wait for the Center to open at 8:00. We decided to drive into Lone Pine to find a place to eat. None of the restaurants is an all-nighter, so we drove into Jack in the Box or Carl’s Jr. (Does it make a difference?)
We got a breakfast burrito or breakfast croissant and a beverage. Back to the Visitor Center, we had to wait only 15 minutes for the gates to open. A ranger announced to the 25 or 30 people there that he would hold a lottery. He needed a driver’s license from each selected hiking leader.
Matt told me to draw a number. I drew #10 out of 25. That was scary because so many people were there and so few permits available. It turned out there was no #3, 5, 7, or 9, so #10 was not too bad. Matt and I got a permit. The next party in line was turned away.
We took both cars back down the highway to Lubken Rd, parallel to the entrance to Owens Dry Lake. (It is now being re-watered by the L.A.’s Dept. of Water and Power (DWP) by court order in order to reduce the windblown toxic dust caused by DWP’s taking all the water out of the lake since the early 1900s.)
We went up Lubken Rd., past Tuttle Creek Rd., to a frontage road from the Alabama Hills. We turned left and began climbing the prominent switchbacks leading to the Cottonwood Lakes trailhead, 9,580 feet; odometer 369.3. We hoped the relatively high start would make the hiking easier. (It didn’t.) We gathered our gear and started up the trail at 9:50 in an area of a lot of sand, rock steps, and scattered pine trees. Our initial choice for a destination perhaps was Cirque Lake. Marvin took the lead on a dry and dusty trail which was used by hikers, pack animals, and horses as the morning was starting to heat up.
It was more of a little walkabout than a hike. The sort you take when the falling sun is cooling the air and making the hills a shade of gold not available to the jeweler. It was on a little uphill trail in San Clemente which neatly divides that city’s suburban sprawl and the neighboring Rancho Mission Viejo Land Conservancy. I had the dog, a few waters, plus Miles Davis, who, even through the headphones makes me think of polar bears and dolphins sliding around a deep, ancient blue cave.
We have called the dog Plato since he was just over eight weeks old, which I suppose makes him a philosopher in name only. Though I often look at him and think of Emerson:
“For all our soul-destroying slavery to habit, it is not to be doubted, that all men have sublime thoughts; that all men value the few real hours of life”
Perhaps he meant all creatures. Looking out over the land I missed the tall, yellow tipped weeds that filled the hills in the first flush of spring. Long and thin, whole masses of them would sway in the wind giving the landscape a shifting emerald shimmer. Now it was just chaff. I saw a coyote on this trail once. It was at dawn, foggy, the coyote held my eyes for a long beat until scampering off into the bush. I always look for him here, remembering fondly that unexpected intrusion of the sublime into an otherwise mundane morning. Plato has forgotten the incident, or so it seems. Stink bugs, the scientific name of which escapes me, spotted the dirt every few strides, their bodies giving off a perfect black sheen like the wet fin of an orca. A great oak is stuck nearly horizontally to the hillside that slopes down on my right. To the eye whose day is starved of nature there seems to be a whole forest in its fragrant, gnarled branches.
An irregular beat begins to punctuate the slow strains of jazz trumpet, which swirl around like rings of smoke in my ears. I remove my headphones to hear big booms and staccato machine gun fire in the air. There’s a marine base just south of these hills. They must be conducting exercises with a great range of weaponry, so varied are the sonic traces of explosions, of metal striking metal. With the headphones back on I could only hear the low bass of artillery fire, the thump of which made Plato jerk just slightly on his leash.
The path to the summit, as we amuse ourselves by calling it, winds around a water tower and brings me eye level with the sun. I keep my eyes down, both to protect my retinas and to watch the ground, making sure its dead twigs do not suddenly become animated, for more than a few times I have spotted rattlesnakes on this section. We kick up dust and gravel, tiny components of which hang in wisps and spirals in the amber air, suspended by these last minutes of direct light.
The top of this hill is cold, even in summer; I put my back to suburbia and look out at this small stretch of wilderness, fenced in barb wire. Little yellow signs appear everywhere warning of mountain lions. The setting sun has drained a lot of the detail visible just minutes ago, but still the view is worth a deep sigh, a smiling glance at the dog. I ask him, the dog, if he’s thirsty. He licks his jowls and takes a step towards my backpack, which I have slipped off my shoulder. I uncap a bottle, and hold it just loose enough so that the laps of his tongue can seesaw it up and down, sending little splashes into, and all over, his mouth. I adjust the angle as the bottle grows empty, and he satisfied.
With some alarm I notice the horizon is now empty of its fiery ball; it will be dark before I return to the trailhead. Indeed it is not long before the sky begins to glow a purple blue, like candlelit amethyst. Trees just twenty and thirty yards away, where before I could make out bough-hopping birds, have begun to assume indistinguishable forms in the descending gloom. We quicken our pace. The dog’s fatigue has made his face into a permanent, panting smile. Soon it would grow dark enough to see visible traces of the growing orchestra of detonations beyond these hills. From time to time, I caught the flash of rabbit eyes aside the trail, followed always by their hasty, crunchy retreat through the underbrush.
We were only just a hundred yards or so to the trailhead when I saw the owl silhouetted atop the fencepost. I thought at once that it was a large bird, though it stood frozen as I moved closer, shedding doubt upon this hypothesis. It was backlit by the hidden explosions, which sent irregular pulsations into the dark above, a kind of flickering, militaristic aurora borealis. Time passed and it seemed as though we were looking at a statue, like mice fooled by plastic bird figurines put up by farmers. At last I saw its inimitable clock face swivel and wheel around towards us, the fire of its eyes catching a little light, its body and wings still immobile. I had imagined the great bird and I to be face to face, and yet it had been like us, watching the war games play out against the sky. Man must seem so absurd to the animals, blowing things apart in the deep twilight. The dog and I watched the owl watching us for a long time that night, staying as still as we could until at last he spooked and flew away. Over the clatter of guns in the distance you could just hear the beat of its white feathered wings.
Tonight we welcome Mike Lawson to OutsideAllDay. Mike has a day job like the rest of us so I am sure we will all enjoy his perspective of sneaking workouts as Lincoln watches on. M Smart.
“Wait, you’re from Southern California? Why in the world are you living in DC?”
I get this question quite often from the people I meet in the DC Metro Area. Honestly, I ask myself this same question at least a few times a week. Two years ago I moved from Orange County to Washington D.C. I left the golden sands and gentle surf of Newport Beach, the rugged trails and scenic cliffs of the PV Peninsula, and more importantly the mild winters that allow one to pick and choose when they wish to be cold and when they don’t (i.e. a day trip to Big Bear vs. a day at the beach in mid January). Yes, I left this land of milk and honey to try my luck at the uncertainties of life on the east coast. Little did I know that I would find just as much beauty and activity here as exists anywhere in the world, but just in a different form than I was used to.
From the stillness and tranquility of the Shenandoah Mountains to the vast and bustling Rock Creek Park – from playing kickball on the national mall to kayaking down the mighty Potomac, DC is as much a place of adventure as it is a hot bed of political ideas. The recent selection of DC by Outside Magazine as the best “town” (I take issue with it being called a “town”, but that’s a different point) to live in only supports this assertion. When you add in the fact that I have now finished four races in my lifetime, and consider that they have all occurred this year, that should be proof enough that DC is an outside enthusiast’s playground.
With this dispatch I hope to bring a taste of what the east has to offer – adventure, culture, diversity (of several varieties), and life in the center of US politics.
Mike Lawson
District of Columbia
outsideallday contributor
NBC is averaging a 17.1/30 national rating through Monday night for its prime-time Olympic coverage, up 16.3 percent from the same period at the 2004 Athens Games. The rating marks the best prime-time rating through the first four nights of a non-U.S. Summer Olympics since the 1992 Barcelona Games.
NBCOlympics.com has seen 13.5 million video streams, 16.9 million unique users and 291.1 million page views.
Matt Walls at Body Glove supplied the following to recap the Molokai race. Many thanks and Congrats to Matt from OutsideAllDay.
As you probably know by now we all finished the 2008 Molokai race and we all had a blast. Here is my recap of our trip.
Roebee, Iggy, Jon Loren, Kyle Daniels, and I all rented this killer house in Hawaii Kai right next to the finish of the race. We had a dock off of the back of the house so we could paddle right up to the house. Most of us got to the house Monday July 21st. We spent the next few days driving Roebee to Starbucks every few hours, picking up paddle boards at the docks, picking up people at the airport, and trying to tie up the final loose ends before the race.
The Hawaiian Paddling community welcomed us with open arms. Everyone over there was so nice and helpful to us. Keoni Watson and Mike Cote were insane. Keoni spent hours with us going over charts, tides and race strategies. Mike Cote spent tons of time helping us with anything we needed. He put together two separate groups of people for us to paddle with. The first group, which was made up of his son, Mikey and his friends, showed us the fast way through the last 5 miles of the course. Mikey went on to win the stock class of the race. He is so fast in the bump. The second group was made up of legendary watermen from that side of the island. They showed us their favorite down wind run that they do all the time. Mike also hooked me up with my escort boat and crew. I can not thank Mike enough.
There it is 6 hours 37minutes. 32 miles. 3rd place 40+ Stock. 2 years of training. 6 friends. Tons of laughs and enough memories to last a life time. Thanks guys for an amazing trip. Thanks Joe Bark for the great board for the race. Thanks Body Glove for giving me the time off to train and race. And most of all thank you to my family for all of the love and support they give me so I chase my dreams.
I should be sleeping but I had to post my weekend plans before I drive away at 3 AM.
Drive 3h 37m using highways 405, 5, 14, 395.
Arrive in Lone Pine at Eastern Sierra InterAgency Visitor Center to pickup Wilderness Permits at 7 AM at junction of highways US 395 & SR136 (1 mile south Lone Pine). Head to pancake breakfast in Lone Pine.
Drive backdown 395 to Olancha (21 miles), head west into the Sierra’s towards Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead. Begin hike 9 AM, Friday morning.
First night, South Fork Lakes.
Second night, Cottonwood Lakes.
Hike out on Sunday morning to Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead.
(Photo courtesy of KEN STEINHARDT at The Orange County Register)
A long time ago in a far away place I went to Journalism school. So now when I read headlines about boring newspapers cutting staff I get nostalgic. And then this morning I found this great article by Katherine Nguyen in the Orange County Register - that sadly doesn’t include our favorite bike shop - Rock N’ Road Cyclery, with four convenient locations in Orange County. Putting that aside this article discusses how people are picking the bike back up with the rise of gas prices. Click here to check it out.
The latest Competitors Radio Show is up on their iTunes podcast and Web site. The topic: Johan Bruyneel. As you all know he was the team director and mastermind behind Lance Armstrong’s seven consecutive Tour de France titles.
If you happened to pass the Portola Arby’s this morning then surely you would have heard two grown men laughing - all the way up the canyon. At six we dropped into the sand pit called Whiting Ranch and took two laps away from those who were still sleeping. Andy is getting my race tactics in shape for the Tinley Mountain Bike Tri.
I followed him through one lap of the newly minted racetrack and then he called me past him giving me ten yards. He caught me time and time again. But, I rode with reckless abandon. Now you see why we need to wake up so early. We would have bummed out the running crew. And quite frankly with all the mountain lion signs - they have more courage then I do - so we give ourselves a head start.
After two hours we headed over to Tully’s for some quality wakeup drinks. We covered Tour race tactics, OutsideAllDay, and I even got some coaching tips. Andy was in great form today - even at the coffee shop. The 100% compostable coffee cups are sweet.
This Sunday, July 27 on the island of Molokai ocean paddlers will embark for Oahu. This 32-mile rough water race across the Kaiwi Channel that separates the Hawaiian islands of Molokai and Oahu, from Kaluakoi to Koko Head, is one of the top two paddling events in the world. This year will be the 12th Annual running of the QuiksilverEdition Molokai to Oahu Paddle Board Race.
The update that follows outlines how three of my friends are prepping for one of the most grueling races held in the ocean. It is written by Body Glove wetsuit staffer and South Bay ripper Matt Walls (photo courtesy of Body Glove).
Just wanted to drop a line from the Donkey House (our local South Bay, paddleboard crew) here in Hawaii Kai. We have been here for a few days now and are having a blast. Kyle and my trip started out great by volunteering to get bumped off our first two flights to Hawaii and we received $1400.00 each in travel vouchers and upgraded to first class on our third flight. Good times.
Our house is beautiful. It is right on the water in a lagoon right behind the finish line. We have a dock on the back of the house and the finish line is about a few hundred yard paddle away. We did a finish line paddle two days ago. We got dropped off at sandy beach and paddle to the finish line. It is about 5 miles. The first few miles were so rough that it was really hard to even stay on your board. We learned a new paddle boarding term on that paddle,” alligator wrestling”. The next part felt a little better because the waves were only coming at you from 3 sides. After that it started to clean up. We paddled yesterday for a little while and caught some waves. It has been really windy and rainy but we have managed to have fun. We watch the Tour de France a few times a day, Roebee goes to Starbucks about every other hour and then we watch all of Kyles motivation movies that he brought. Today we are watching a documentary on Bruce Lee. Yesterday’s motivational movie was “Road to Paris” a documentary on Lance Armstrong’s battle to winning the Tour De France.
Kyle Daniels in training - courtesy of BarkOcean.com
We checked into the race last night and picked up our race numbers and jerseys. We will do our last paddle today, a three mile down wind run. The paddlers over here have been super helpful in showing us their routes and giving us tons of helpful hints to help us out during the race. The forecast for the race is supposed to be really good. Really windy with some pretty good sized waves. Hopefully it is fast.
Tomorrow we fly over to Molokai.
Many thanks to Matt Walls for providing the update.
