Tuesday, January 02, 2007

All is quiet on New Year's Day

I think New Year's is a good day to feel subdued. A good day to feel contrite. A good day to pause at the "2007" scrawled across the front page and feel a little despondent about the passing of time.

New Year's Eve is all about the hunt. What do we keep searching for? I never find out. But I join the masses clawing through the wind-whipped streets, smoky bars and 2 a.m. Samosa stops. I want to believe we're looking for the defined moment, the sharp clarity that cuts a straight line between past and future, that carves away the bad and smoothes out the good. But all I see are the faces, hidden behind lipstick and glitter and cardboard hats. I hear the muddled voices, lost in the white noise. I hear them and see them again.

In 2006 in the fog of Alaska edible-art-induced food poisoning.
In 2005 in the deep snow drifts of the Uinta Mountains.
In 2004 echoed in the distant fireworks over City Creek Canyon.
In 2003 in the company of friends who were about to disperse forever.
In 2002 in the quiet calm surrounding Oneida Lake, New York.
In 2001 in fiery exchanges between week-old friends and lifelong strangers.
In 2000 in a wave of bodies streaming down the Las Vegas Strip.
In 1999 lost and longing in the streets of First Night, Salt Lake City.
In 1998 gasping for air in Portland, Oregon.
In 1997 screeching down I-15 packed 10-high in a 1960s Mercury Monterey.

It's fun to think back to those "Happy New Year" moments and remember every single one at that eruptive minute, remember all of the events that came after and all of the people that slipped away. That as I watched those bleary-eyed faces count down the final seconds, all I wanted to see was time holding still.
Sunday, December 31, 2006

2006 in reverse

Date: 30
Total mileage: 21.0
December mileage: 476.1
Yearly mileage: 5,547.5

This year I resolve to see more beauty.

What's your New Year's Resolution?
Friday, December 29, 2006

Becoming rusty

Date: Dec. 28 and 29
Total mileage: 57.0
December mileage: 455.1
Temperature upon departure: 38

I have to be honest. I'm struggling. Struggling with motivation. Struggling with a disparity of location ... when I lived in Homer, I didn't enjoy my job much, but at least I had a satisfying cycling hobby to fall back on. Now, I enjoy my job more, but ...

It's my weekend. I thought I'd take advantage of Geoff being away to put in some longer miles, but I do what I find tolerable. Yesterday, tolerable was about three hours. Today, with a daunting Wind Advisory extended to 9 p.m., I decided to head north. After about two miles I realized that there wasn't any point in pedaling - my gearing only goes so high, and the wind already was pushing me along at about 25 mph. That didn't bode well, but I decided it would be a great workout going home.

I had, simply, no idea what I was turning around to face. Hurricane-force blasts stole the breath right out of my throat, leaving me gasping for oxegen that seemed to have been sucked right out of the air. It was hard enough to breathe holding still - it was nearly impossible once I really started pedaling into the wind, holding my nose against the handlebars as sharp needles of rain pierced my scalp through the holes in my helmet. I have never experienced anything like that wind. The 11-mile trudge homeward grew to be more tolerable, but as I crossed the bridge, a crosswind gust hit so hard it slammed me, sideways, right into the guardrail. The guardrail ... the only narrow barrier that separated me from a 60-foot freefall into the churning channel. It scared me so completely that I got off the bike right there and walked the rest of the way home - the entire way, even after I had reached the relative safety of solid ground.

Only later did I find out that the weather service had advised people not to drive due to unpredictable gusts and sustained, gale-force wind. They recorded gusts as high as 109 mph in the area.

Before I returned home, I did spend some time riding on the beach. That helped save the what may have otherwise been a miserable ride (although I do have to admit that riding with that wind at my back was an absolute blast.) I started about a mile down the road and rode back through the sand with the wind wisking me forward. I wove through the shipwrecks and stopped to take some bike pictures in an effort capture the mood of the day:



I also have been use music to help internalize some of the more difficult rides, which helps ease the suffering. I compiled a short list of some of the albums that are cycling through my roatation right now. I call this list "Good albums for riding a bike in the cold rain:"

"Halloween, Alaska" by Alaska Halloween
I discovered this album by accident because Halloween and Alaska are two of my favorite things, but it really has a lush fusion of beautiful noise that lulls me into the contented motion of the moment.

"This is a Long Drive for Someone With Nothing to Think About" by Modest Mouse
This was the first Modest Mouse recording introduced to me, way back in 1997, by my "Straight Edge" high-school boyfriend with a soft side for basement emo music. (We called it emo back then. I'm not crazy about what the label's come to mean now) But it's still my favorite.

"The Meadowlands" by The Wrens
Also beautiful indie-pop that at times is unexpectedly catchy. Kinda like Radiohead but more accessible - which is a good thing on a bike, where music that is too intellectually stimulating can become grating.

"Slanted and Enchanted" by Pavement
I also came into Pavement in a pretty embarrassing way - by the song "Cut Your Hair" from the Brady Bunch Movie. But it's stayed with me for 10 years, so it must be worth something.

"Soviet Kitsch" by Regina Spektor
I had this song in my rotation for the longest time while I was training for the Soggy Bottom 100. It still carries a lot of the beautiful sadness I felt upon leaving Homer.

"Summer in Abandon" by Pinback
If you don't think melancholy hazy-day rock is also good mood music for cycling in the rain, this list really isn't for you.

"We Will Become Sillhouettes" by The Postal Service
I understand that The Postal Service is some kind of side-project for the singer in Death Cab For Cutie. It's a little more trip-hoppy than Death Cab, and has a lot more introspection.

"Tonight and Forever" by Sense Field
Just in case all of this indie folk puts you to sleep, I threw in one of my favorite power pop albums ever.