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.