Bicycle Trips and Skinny Dips

I am simultaneously reading Ernest Hemingway's Garden of Eden (published in 1986) and Around The World On A Bicycle by Thomas Stevens (published in 1889). A total of thirteen hundred pages about a handful of my favorite subjects. The glorious challenges of being a self-propelled adventurer, writer, lover and the irresistable total immersions in lakes, streams, rivers and oceans that happen along the way. These are the activities that constitute 'The Good Life". I should add eating and drinking, sex and breathing here. What more is there? Both of these stories are able to pull me right into the locales. I can easily relate to hanging out in the south of France (Hemingway) and riding bicycles around the world. We love riding and camping in France and have invested several months in doing so. Twenty years ago we completed an around the world bicycle adventure with our twelve year old boy. Due to his and my combined navagational skills, we were able to complete the journey in six months. I've been skinny-dipping since I was born and find it a great way to stay clean and add a little danger to my days. Keeping the riding shorts dry is an added benefit of the clothesfree swim. Making the time to reflect and get it all down on paper is what I hope to accomplish here in my later years.

Angry Merchants

We like supporting small merchants, especially when they carry items that we are most interested in. Instead of falling back on the internet or big box stores. We seek out small merchants. We want to encourage real downhome people to continue their pursuit and we milk them for their expertise. Face to face, human to human. honesty and sincerity can be seen in their eyes...felt in our handshake. This is how we conduct our business. Lately we have felt their stress and disappointment..."Even our friends don't shop with us first. They buy something through their computer and then come in to show us how clever they were. And we often stock the same item." We often visit bicycle shops when we travel. We started writing, publishing, promoting and selling bicycle guides over forty years ago and therefore sold them door to door at bicycle shops throughout the Western U.S. Shop owners have evolved from excited purveyors of outdoor tools and exploration into sad or even disgusted prisoners of their quiet stores. Most bicycle shops in America do not own the building out of which they conduct their business. Their leases were agreed to back when times were good...five, ten even twenty years ago. Ebikes have accentuated the difficulties between merchants and potential customers. At least 90% of electric assist bicycles are sold online. The buyers are often surprised with the realities of their purchase..."The damn thing arrived in a box." Most of these are produced in China, Malaysia or Vietnam...which results in cheap components and disappointing performance, possibly even dangerous electronics. So, bicycle shop owners are hearing all of the retorts and anger (even though the customer didn't ask for advice or try to support their local business). I walked into the GoGreen Bicycle shop in Burbank, California last month only to hear an angry merchant hollering, "Retail Sucks!"

From Scratch

A friend recently commented, "Chuck, you should be real proud. You built a business from scratch that lasted thirty years." This person did not know that I also built a house 'from scratch' that has been home for well over thirty years. In fact, my whole life could fit under the 'from scratch' theme. As a five year old my mother told me that my father had "flown away" and "flew the coup." No further explanation. On the playground at Woodrow Wilson Elementary school, my kindergarten teacher...Mrs. Dixon, asked me why I waved at airplanes that flew over our school ocassionally. I'm waving to my father, I answered. "Is he a pilot?" she asked. I didn't know and... probably didn't answer. When it came to fathers I had to start from scratch. I had four uncles that helped fill the void. Obtaining a College degree was a goal when I graduated from high school. Neither of my parents had finished high school. We built a community college from scratch...I and eleven other students from Kalamazoo area high schools comprised the academic affairs commitee responsible for formulating a curriculum and design for KVCC. I cut the ribbon that launched Kalamazoo Valley Community College. We started it from scratch and now 55 years later, KVCC is a pillar of the community. Starting and nurturing a business in small town America has become ridiculously more difficult...loyalty, customer loyalty is a thing of the past. Big Box enticements, Internet enticements and online shopping has eliminated the 'little guy' and crushed Village Shopping in America. However, I do appreciate your patronage.

A Friend Asked. "Have you always been so political.?"

I don't think I paid much attention to politics before the 1960 Nixon/Kennedy TV debate. I was only ten years old. I was impressed with John F. Kennedy, war hero and I loved the movie "PT 109". The assasination of JFK sixty years ago this month was a real gut punch...even for a thirteen year old. The move for Civil Rights got my attention, why not? It was only fair that all Americans enjoyed equal rights. Barry Goldwater and Gov. George Wallace got my attention, how could these people and their followers be so narrow-minded and mean? I started talking and writing about these issues and found very little sympathy with my newly-formed preferences. There were no liberals in my extended family and my best friend aligned with Republicans. I became a newspaper editor in my 16th year...The Outpost. a 12 page weekly sponsored by Sally Mitchell, journalism teacher at Portage Northern H.S. Within limits, I was allowed to express my opinions in my 'From The Editor' column. This is where I first experienced "backlash" from the readers of The Outpost. Martin Luther King was assasinated in April of 1968 and I volunteered to become part of the RFK for President campaign. I manned an information table in Bronson Park when he campaigned in Kalamazoo on June 1st, 1968. RFK was an adventurous outdoorsman and a humanist (or so I thought) making him an excellent candidate for President of the USA...especially against the likes of Richard M Nixon. A few days later RFK was assasinated by Sirhan Sirhan in Los Angeles and I graduated from PNHS. So, yes, I guess you could say that I've always been quite politically aware. I didn't believe in the Vietnam escapade so I resolved that I would invest in four years of college...college deferments were a thing. When The Draft Lottery was instituted in 1969 the college deferment strategy was in question...the morning after this Lottery (late September 1969) I discovered that I was the last ball out of the big bowl...number 366. I remained in college for most of the first half of the 70's, living in "college towns" assured that I remained interested in politics.

The Excessive Heat Problem

Climate Weirding...the oceans are heating up...records are being shattered on land temperatures...those who measure such events are in total agreemment, human behavoir must change. Will it? Not likely...we love our cars and trucks, we depend on heating and air conditioning...mostly the old fashioned way. We want to Jet around the country, we want to Jet around the globe. We are not changing this behavior until...we are forced to. And we will be forced to because we didn't change our behavior. A conundrum for sure. A favorite saying around here...CYCLING IS CLIMATE ACTION.

Depression Stalks Us

Life looks very different when, in the space of three years, you see that you could lose everything. When, the earth under you twists and shakes and rattles everything around you. When, your best friend is told that she has lung cancer, surgery will be necessary. When, a million-acre fire blows into your town and you are evacuated for seven weeks. When, your loved-ones struggle with a deadly virus. When, you are told you have a large tumor in your colon and it'll have to be surgically removed (your doctor says, "You could die on the operating table."). When, you realize that a formidable percentage of your neighbors are politically willing to "throw-it-all-away" by shucking the rules we live by out the nearest window, held open by an abberation called "The Tea Party"...and when, that neighbor's window has encroached 100 yards closer to your own. Life looks very different now...each moment, each day is still a precious gift. Attitudes are adjustable, outlooks are changable..."it could be worse" comes to mind. People are suffering around the world...and even in our own villages, to degrees unimaginable to someone who has been as fortunate as I have been these last 73 years.

The Getaway...Van Life.

Gassed and loaded with everything you'd need for a one week getaway. Like magic, load the wife, load the dog and there we go, up the road...522 miles until empty. Definitely not the "busy season" at the store so, put a sign on the door. We'll return in a week, or more. Not sure what we are going to do if we can't find insurance to cover us while we run a business. A real possibility exists that after thirty years of being open year-around we will have to close for the Winter season. A guy could get used to this version of semi-retirement. I have a backlog of fix-it jobs and "honey do" projects at home. It may be time to catch-up with these. Mid-seventies might be an excellent age to allow and afford more time for freedom to wander. Not an age thing, really. Using a healthy body for hiking, cycling and swimming is a precious gift...you've got to use it while you can.

Ebikes? Quiet...well, not so much.

I've been selling Class One E-bikes for a half dozen years now...no throttle, you have to pedal and 20mph tops. This has helped to keep our shop profitable. The buyers are excited and enthusiastically wanting to get back into cycling. All good and we all think we are enhancing the quality of the environment. We were camped at Cave Lake, Nevada when a couple of families from Alberta, Canada pulled into the sites on either side of ours. Big Trailers, but once they got situated (level and unhitched), they pulled out four E-assist bicycles and donned helmets and launched for a short ride. I said, Oh great, our kind of people... Low-impact recreators. They returned an hour later as we sat down to dinner, all giddy about their outing. Things deteriorted quickly when they pulled out a large generator on a dolly and said, "Everyone bring your bikes over here and we'll get them charged up for tomorrow." Loud and stinky and not fifty feet away. This could take four hours...are you kidding me? I wasn't happy. It was quite a realization...Yes, bicycle people, (ebike people) can be a huge drag on the environment and negatively affect their neighbors...who only seek peace and quiet and a pleasant smelling camp dinner. I've sold a couple dozen of these in the last year...am I responsible for ruining the peace and quiet and air quality of others who seek what I seek?

Silent O'er the Landscape

Silent o'er the landscape, inexhaustible (without exhaust) through the trees, reaching deep into the lungs, as we climb upon our self-propelled machines. And now we roll into our seventies not yet needing a little push, yet, finding strength and extra energy in our ample tush. Poetry? Not exactly...just having fun tapping on the keys.

Bake An Adventure Cake, Sweeten With Wild Swimming

It is finally that time of year, the hiking trails are wide open and the pothole lakes are free of ice. As you have heard (here), we have fifty lakes within twenty-five miles of Chester, California and this year every one of them is delicious and inviting a dip. Most often you and your companions will be the only souls around when you get to the lakeshore...should this be the case, you'll be free to strip down and fully immerse, there's nothing better than paddling around in fresh water without the tugging from a suit...and when you get out you'll dry in an instant. Your hiking clothes will stay dry all day. These waters have been quite sour during the last couple of years so you can understand why there is triple the excitement this year, 2023.

Time To Ride

Here it is, already the second week of May and a seriously frozen morning, once again. The difference being that we are going to experience high temperatures in the sixties for the next couple of days, and then....the seventies. There's only one month of Spring left and it's finally going to feel like Spring. I hear the fantastic old Luca Bloom song in my head, "Get Up On our Bike...The Acoustic Motorbike". One more month of experiencing the joys of cycling as a 72 year old. For many years we'd keep track of our weekly miles...usually between 100 and 200 miles...and on tours (we pulled off several two or three month bicycle tours) we'd easily pedal 600 miles each week. We felt young and springy nearly every month of the year. Some Winters are a real heavy burdon at 5,000ft. in elevation. Every shovel full of ice crystals increases in weight with each and every successive storm and the storms just keep on coming...all the way to middle May. So, yes I am motivated to strike out across the Dixie Burn and take in the new vistas of the high country from my leather saddle. I want to feel the strength build in my thighs to the point where I don't have to shift down to the lowest gear to climb the hill to Sunflower Flat. I want to drink again from the newly re-energized Domingo Springs as my reward for getting there under my own power.

Moving On From 'Bikeshop Guy'

To sell, or not to sell... Thirty years of my seventy-three are invested in being bicycle shop owner/janitor. Sixty of my years have seen me 'in love' with bicycles. There's no better tool for living the good life. Perspective, and down to earth awareness of what the human body is capable of, is provided by living many hours on a bicycle...and many, many hours juggling the components of bicycles. Wrenching gives me an appreciation for how things work and reinforces my sense of accomplishment while boosting my confidence. To keep a business afloat through the convoluted array of obstacles that lay downriver for any 'Mom and Pop' business is something I am quite proud of. Now, if I can convert this career into sufficient retirement funds and energy to go out and realize a decade of 'senior adventures', I will go out a "Winner".

A Life Lived With Limited Funds

I always believed that being wealthy would be a curse. Not that I didn't strive toward having more, but I always felt like I was in a "comfort zone". There's plenty of evidence out there that I was correct. In the late 1960's I had a girlfriend who's great-grandfather had founded a wildly successful drug manufacturing company. There was no doubt about her financial future. Her father loved to show off his indoor pool and movie theater. He more than once pointed out that the theater's wallpaper included a 14k goldleaf design. She and I loved swimming in Lake Michigan and chasing each other through the mammoth dunes. That all came to an end just before graduation...Her father gave her a car to drive to her Ivy League woman's college...Wellesley in Massachusetts. The car...an Excalibur Roadster in yellow with fancy chrome sidepipes. Out of my league, for certain. I harboured no fantasies about living a life of luxury and my definition of 'The Good Life' entailed a story of health, freedom and adventure. After my graduation from a California State University I donned a Kelty backpack and wandered the North American continent for nearly three years while surviving on a shoestring budget. I often refer back to that experience for reassurance that you don't need much to feel satisfied or happy with a humble existence.

Train To Be A Survivor...This Is Not A TV Show.

Get up off that couch, out of that easy chair...it's time to work those legs, blood pumping work. We've already gotten used to five dollar a gallon petrol...ten dollar petrol is just around the corner. We need to get better at heating ourselves if we are going to survive. Get better at splitting firewood, better at moving from the front door to the store. Being excellent at walking and biking will be key to our survival. Horsepower is not going to save us this time. Solar and wind power can only do so much, for those wealthy and wise enough to invest. You need to be able to walk down the street to pick up your fresh baked bread, to gather your veggies or bag your meat. When the going gets rough people come together and help their neighbors but, you don't really want to be a burden because your legs don't work and your heart is weak. If your feeling sorry for your sad state of conditioning and ability...type in Oxana Majors...she is a survivor.

Let's Lean On The Upbeat News Here

Something I've never discussed before....How much I appreciate my internal combustion vehicles this century. I've purchased two brand new cars in my life. In 2009 I traded in my old clunker Ford F150 for a brand new Honda Element EX AWD 5 speed manual. It has proven to be a genius upgrade from my previous 2 used Jeep Grand Cherokees. It actually climbs my steep ice-covered driveway without hesitation every time I ask it to. I have driven it nearly 140,000 miles and it still runs like a young pup. Honda Elements have been out of production for a dozen years but, if they brought it back and it showed any semblance to the original design, I would run right down and purchase another. Two years ago we purchased a made-in-America Ford Transit 250 cargo van. It is an AWD high-roof Eco-boost dreamboat. We've converted it into a comfortable camper and it has proven to be an inspirational truck....making three/four day camping trips possible and comfortable. During an eight week evacuation from our burning national forest and neighboring communities, we thought of it as becoming a possible 'forever home'. We bought it knowing that it made adventuring with our dog and bicycles a real possibility. You can't go on bicycle rides leaving your animal in a hot little Honda. Little did we know that both vehicles would be utilized as life-savers when efficient transportation would be necessary for health emergencies and maintenence fromm health professionals whose offices are many hours down the road. There was a time when I thought we could make it through this life transporting ourselves by pedaling only. Not even close. We invested twelve years into the car-free lifestyle...I can see now that we were lucky to last that long without motor vehicle assistance.

The Lost Sierra

The Lost Sierra...means something entirely different to me now. We lost one million acres of conifers and pines. We lost the music...singing birds, wind in the needles. We lost the incredible production of oxygen that we were blessed with year-around from that magnificent forest. We lost the experience of communing with contented wildlife. If we stay inside the green zone that holds the little village of Chester, California we can almost forget what it is that we lost but, as soon as we dare to wander from the village limits we are overwhelmed with The Lost Sierra.

Four Weeks Without Sunshine

Unheard of, even in the mountains of California. I didn't realize how this would affect me... SAD. We drove to SoCal in mid-December. It was sunny when we arrived. We rode our bicycles up and down the south slope of the Verdugo Mtn. neighborhoods until we were soaked with sweat and upon return to grandma's secluded pool we stripped down and enjoyed 58 degree 'plongettes' followed by full-body basking under the 70 degree California sun. The good life. A couple of days before Christmas, life got cloudy (and Lisa slipped off a curb in Glendale spraining both ankles). Rainy and gloomy skies took over on Thursday, obscuring what should have been the beautiful holiday season sunsets that we had experienced during previous years at grandmother's house. Two weeks of SoCal grey encouraged us to return to the north and make sure all was well at our Plumas County mountain cabin. The year had started with a couple foot of accumulated snow. I grabbed a shovel and got to work....after planting Lisa in our woodstove-warmed living room. Ankle brace bound, she was not to leave the house for at least two weeks. It snowed and rained and snowed non-stop for the next week. Then Thursday the sun almost broke through. It only rained a fraction of an inch that day. Friday saw the return of the moisture monster. And it didn't stop until the next Wednesday.