Excitement, or indigestion?

When I was a kid, we lived about 5 hours from both my maternal and paternal grandparents. Although I have more memories on the maternal side (remarkably, I had even *more* cousins on that side), I have really fond, strong memories of my Mahoney aunts forcing us to go caroling on the deep snow on Christmas Eve. And then I would wake up super early on Christmas morning, look out the window of the second story bedroom where I sometimes drew the straw of sleeping on a rollaway bed with rustly (probably something intended to be waterproof?) material under the sheets. The magical, heavy snow glistened under the streetlights, and then again in the early morning sun.

I have no photos, but the one I've shared here is close to evoking a similar feeling in my chest.

So, this morning, Christmas morning, I woke up at about 4:20, after a nightmare that we moved back into the apartment where we lived in 1996. (Sorry landlord Andre, it was fine for 1996, and super cheap - thank you.) For 30 minutes, I tried all my brain emptying techniques, but could not go back to sleep.

Was it Christmas excitement? Was it my full bladder? Was it my (TMI alert) metamucil-ed guts doing what they do? Was it some work and bike captain things that I need to do, starting to creep in?

I got up, came into the dark living room, and plugged in the tree, which temporarily  brings me the same feeling of comfort, peace, and wonder as I had circa 1975, from a small, kid-stuffed bedroom on Emmons Street in Michigan. ☃️❄🎄❄

It'll be a mouthful?

I haven't ridden in about six weeks. As my friend's kids would say: "What in the chicken bwak bwak world?" (I love this, by the way. Say it out loud and you are guaranteed to laugh.) Six weeks? Granted, it was colder than normal and we haven't really had much snow. While I went to the gym, who wants to read a blog post about going to a gym?

The weather was great today, and we still had good riding snow from last weekend's storm. While I'm not the most adventurous on my fat bike, who cares when you can ride from your house into the state park and make eye contact with a huge doe and buck who only start backing off when you reach for your phone? 

I did not ride this beautiful bike all summer. What a shame. 

He's perfectly camouflaged. I could hear him chewing.

He was really close and I was trying to count the points
on his antler rack, but he edged away when I fiddled with my phone.

I saw her first. She was more wary. Maybe because she was more in the open.

So, speaking of adventure, I decided that my lack of riding this year cannot happen again in 2019 and, although I am not adventurous on my fat bike, I do like a good story. I set a goal for myself that I think will be best described by this quote:

"The best rides are the ones where you bite off much more than you can chew, and live through it." - - Doug Bradbury

Doug Bradbury apparently is the guy who pretty much invented shocks for mountain bikes Anyhow, the challenge?

I plan to do all three Bike MS rides in Minnesota, yet do all of my fundraising with the Ride Across Minnesota and raise $5000. If I hit that goal, I will be able to do any other ride in MN and the US in 2019 without having to do any fundraising. And the big ride I'm going to do is the Waves to Wine ride in California in September. There are different routes you can do, but I'm going to do the 1-day, 100-mile ride with 6000+ feet of climbing. As someone who finds 100-mile flat Minnesota rides to be challenging, this will be a tough one for me. I will bite off more than I can chew, and I will live through it. I cannot wait to ride my bike this next summer to prepare.

I'll begin my fundraising in earnest in 2019, but my birthday is this next Friday - - - maybe you want to donate in honor of my birthday? Here's the link! (Any amount is helpful.)

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/GoMaggieGo

It's Thanksgiving, Ya'll

At my old job, some research taught us that you can use y'all or ya'll, but that the latter may be more accurate.

Greetings from the South. I have a lot of bike things to catch up on and some explanations for my 5ish-week lull in this space, but today, I will just share some gratitude for:

🦃 The obvious (husb, dog, family, friends, health, a great job, travels and adventures).
🦃 My #BikeMS community (team, donors).
🦃 My riding partner Matt, who I met on a bike ride and who helped me learn things and inadvertently introduced me to new bike ride friends, Kellie and Gregg. I like the reminder that new friendships can be made at all stages of life.
🦃 Being in a warmish place with in-laws for a Thanksgiving wedding, and acquiring a great new sister-in-law (is my brother-in-law's wife my sister-in-law?).
🦃 Nature.
🦃 Vegetables.
🦃 My friend Jen, who I met when she moved into the house across the street and who makes me laugh and holds me accountable at the gym.
🦃 Pimento cheese.
🦃 This dress my sister gave me that has no waistband.
🦃 Emojis.

Flying high, flying free as a summer breeze

Sid and Marty Krofft sure knew how to get stuff stuck in a kid's brain.

So, I was looking for sarcastic gratitude quotes online and stumbled across this stumper:

I get the gist, but it just is so dumb. Who knew that altitude, and flying, would be this week's theme?

Bismark North Dakota's Big Boy

You can get the sandwiches and burgers "flying style" -
basically like something cooked in a pie iron (aka pudgy pie maker)

So, I really AM grateful. I got to spend a lot of time with North Dakotan friends while in Bismarck for a work trip, including a home-cooked, family dinner (the night before going to Big Boy) and good conversation with a 5th grader and a 2nd grader. 

My meeting was at the Heritage Center - I skipped
the "Guns of North Dakota" exhibit

The five days before that, I got to hang out with my lovely cousin Sarah, who was visiting from Ohio. 

After Sarah left and before I got on the plane to Bismarck, I raked up 15 bags of leaves - that's quite an accomplishment in a tiny South Minneapolis yard. It turns out, I guess, that what I thought was an allergy from leaves is actually a cold. And, a couple of hours ago, while eating my dinner, a piece of a tooth slated for a January crown (after my insurance coverage reboots for the year) just broke off. It wouldn't be such a big deal if we hadn't just paid a dude to exterminate mice and hadn't just gotten on the schedule for at least $15,000 of home repairs. Oh, and we just bought a new dryer.

But I HAVE a house to fix. I have insurance coverage most of the time. I can sleep in a bed to get better when I'm sick. I have clothing to dry. I have't done much biking but have been going to a gym. That's a pretty first-world problem. 

So, I'm grateful, sure. I just don't know that I'm at MY ALTITUDE.

Something's not right...

There is no better way to confirm that you're out of shape than by accidentally taking an 81-mile bike ride.

I haven't ridden with my friend Matt, my normal riding partner, for two months. (In that 2-month period, I went to Europe, he went to Korea, I went to San Francisco, he went to Chicago, I went to the woods.) We didn't plan to ride quite that far, but we haven't ridden out to Victoria/Carver/St. Boni for a long time, didn't map the route in advance, and apparently misremembered some things.

I also haven't ridden since I was in SFO, and was embarrassed by my shoddy riding.

But, on the bright side, we got all caught up on life stories, book and movie recommendations, and upcoming concerts. Also on the bright side - it got up to 50 and we didn't have a headwind on the second half of the ride. And to top it off, I had fried chicken for dinner - a major yet delicious rarity.

I'm behind on my duties getting info out to the team for next year's rides. I might be able to devote some time to that tomorrow as I spend much of the forecasted cold day stretching.

Age of Discovery Panic Attack

At my current job, I get federal holidays off, including Columbus Day. I have some issues with Columbus and like the newer tradition of recognizing the impact of colonization on indigenous people. Whatever it is called, I'm glad it is a paid day away from work.

Piper and I headed to the woods, as we both needed a bit of nature therapy. One set of my parents lives on a lake in northeastern Wisconsin, where there are a lot of national forest and other lands with assorted levels of protection against destruction. I had some issues that led to my not taking my bike to Wisconsin and instead planning on just doing a lot of walking in the woods.

Yesterday, Piper and I took our traditional walk to the river, once the site of an earthen dam, to see what's up.

A cloudy day. Some years this view to the north makes my heart burst.

My friend.

The ground is mangled from all the deer that enter the water here. One winter I saw a moose print close to this spot. 

Looking south. This is where we used to catch crayfish as kids.

We actually ran a good chunk of the route to and from the river yesterday, which tuckered out my now-geriatric doodle and caused her to move pretty gingerly when she woke up this morning. This cloudy afternoon, my mom, the auntly neighbor (in the woods, people a mile away are neighbors) Beth, Piper and I went to check out an area that I'd seen described as a hiking/biking/snowshoe trail.

"Why am I in the back of the SUV and not on a seat?!? Also, I'm super anxious to get in the woods!" 

View of... Vista Lake? Deerskin River? from the parking area.

 

Even on vacation, I can't get away from e-cigarettes. We saw these packages for the super-high nicotine loved-by-kids JUUL near the ATV trail.

There are no photos of what happened after we found these packages. Cameras were not on our minds. 

At this point, the trail was actually a dirt road. We paused to move to the side of the road because a truck was headed our way. While Piper normally sticks close to me, I moved with her into an area of land where some trees had been cut down to make sure that she didn't inadvertently walk in front of the truck. 

Like I said, she normally sticks close to me, but she smelled something and had her nose to the ground and was intent on following the scent. I entertained this because she usually doesn't stray, was in view, is incompetent in the animal chasing/killing department, and is not sneaky enough to catch big mammals off-guard. She has only been that interested in smelling something when we found some coyote tracks in the area when she was just a pup, and I thought I'd indulge her for a minute.

As she had her nose to the ground, she wound through the cut down trees and brush to lower land. I called for her and she looked around but couldn't see me. She wound further down and away from me. I called to her and waved my arms, but she couldn't see me. I could still see her, but she was winding further down and away from me. And then I couldn't see her. 

I jogged down through the brush and saw her, and she was panicking. (Meanwhile, I could hear my mom from the other direction, shouting for me, not sure where I went and if I was in the woods or if I had a run-in with that truck. I just yelled "yeah" and kept heading to Piper.) Piper hates water and had just stepped into an area that looks like solid ground but was layers of moss on water in a marshy area. She started freaking out trying to get to solid ground, jumping up on to clumps of moss, sinking down, and going further and further out into the marsh. I pretty much lost my shit, as horrible scenarios flashed through my mind quickly. Would I lose sight of her? How would I find her?

Somehow, I got her to slow down as I yelled some combination of "no" and "stay" as I ran out into the marsh. I was knee deep in water (the air temperature was 40 degrees), hoping that I wouldn't hit any spots of any quicksand-like substance or deep pockets in the water that would stop me from reaching Piper before she got further away. She finally saw me and stopped and waited for me to grab her and help her to land. She was panting in a scary, old man pneumonia-sounding way that makes me think that she was as close to having a heart attack as I was. 

We got back, got dry and warm, and had some snacks. She's snoring away now. I hope she never repeats this type of Columbus-era explorer adventure into uncharted territory. I guess I'm like the Isabella or Ferdinand in this story and will need to keep tighter reins on the expedition.

Young and full of promise

Those are the words I'd use to describe the teens I've talked to lately: young and full of promise.

Tonight, I drove 90 minutes to Mankato to have dinner with a high school girl. She picked Perkins because (1) that's where high school students go, (2) they have vegetarian options, and (3) she thoughtfully knew it was on the north side of town, on the highway I would be taking, and in a spot where I wouldn't get lost. Little did she know that it also was three blocks from the brewery my husb has been wanting to visit. So, he rode down with me and drank beer while I was at Perkins.

Anyhow, this girl. She maybe wants to go to the college I went to my first three semesters. And she maybe wants to go to law school afterwards and work on policy issues for an NGO. I met her dad on the MS TRAM bike ride this summer and he told me all this in a 30-mile stretch. How could I not talk to her when he asked for my number for this purpose?

She was cute, smart, sorta nerdy, and confident, and her favorite food is cereal. (She ordered the veggie skillet.)

I don't know if anything I said mattered or helped. She did lament that she isn't fully sure what she wants to do. I tried to say something along the lines of, "It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." (The Internet says that's from Shakespeare.) Instead I said something way less lofty and sort of dumb, like, "You'll follow the path you need to be on," or "You'll take the path that's right for you."

The point was, it is okay to have a plan, but plans change and life happens and it gets sorted out. Just like a bike ride. I think that's what Shakespeare intended to say.

Hi-ho, hi-ho

Bay Area cousins and friends I did not see the past few days, I really hope that I can see you on my next pass through the area.

When I stay with my sister and her family, I start working by 6:30 a.m. to overlap as much as possible with Eastern time zone colleagues. Today, after a conference call at 7 in the garage so as not to wake the household, I went to collect the family dog and get him back inside. He was tossing a big rope around the deck to keep himself amused.

To keep myself amused, I rode my niece's bike to my meeting at Stanford, where I worked for most of the day. It was my first bike commute in over a year, and a sweaty ride with a bulging backpack on a mountain bike in an area that is not flat. I saw a coyote and a deer, and appreciated the bike friendly route and drivers.

This past weekend, my B-I-L and I rode through some little hills to then do one winding 2300-ft climb. That was a lot of hill for this Minnesotan, especially after not riding a ton recently, but a fun ride nonetheless. After the fast, long downhill, we pulled over to a spot to look at the bay. I wish I could've taken a scenic photo (other than one of my face matching my shirt) at the top of the hill, but the one overlooking the bay was the backup.

I am considering doing a big hilly ride out here next year, so this was a good appetizer. I return to brisk Minnesota temps tomorrow and will need to dig out all the clothes used for layering and reacquaint myself with my fat tire bike. It was good to get some last, hot rides in. Goodnight, sweet California.

London: A fine migratory route

"London is a roost for every bird." Benjamin Disraeli

Two weeks ago today we flew home from Europe (by plane), after capping our trip to Belgium with a long weekend in London. We had no real set plans, other than to just wander and then regroup with old friends who live in southern England.

It was a bit of a change to go from biking through fields of, uhm, yes, brussels sprouts in Belgium to be immersed in the big top spectacle of Oxford Circus on a Friday night. We sought some comfort in green, quiet Regent's Park as we weaned ourselves back to normal levels of beer consumption. We had a great Indian dinner at a restaurant next to our hotel where the teenage boys sitting next to us presumably were super high. Thankfully, they - and their giggles - left shortly after we arrived.

On Saturday, we walked by half of all the places you'd expect. I'd been to Kensington Palace before, but for some reason had never seen this beautiful garden before. We walked through peaceful Hyde Park and then, with laser-like focus, sought to purchase something so that I could get 20 pence to use the bathroom in the park. (I had lots of 20p coins in my pockets when we got back to the US.) 

We walked past Buckingham Palace and then looped up through the little streets so that I could go to the Brooks store. Thank you, John Boultbee Brooks, for making the carved C17S bike seat. And thank you, Brooks store, for carrying this now-hard-to-find-in-the-US gem. Right now, I'm debating - with myself - about whether I should hold it in reserve or put it on my third bike. Yes, I have this seat on my other two bikes already. 

Mr. Brooks, my hero

Oh, and we then walked to the British Museum. We saw the Rosetta Stone! And a bunch of sculptures and things from the Parthenon! And some jade from China! It all was pretty cool - and free. On the other hand, it feels so wrong. I can get behind the idea that some stuff, if left it its own country, will get destroyed by invaders and crazy zealots. However, was it all taken under such circumstances? And isn't there a respectable period after which the items should be returned? We don't have the answers. Having a very British dinner and a pint of beer didn't clear things up for us, but it did make us happy.

On Sunday, we walked by the other half of all the places you'd expect. But this time, we did it with our friends Paul, Claire, Lauren, and Sam. They lived in Minnesota for a bit before the kids were born and moved back to England when Lauren was starting school. It was such a wonderful day catching up with old friends. We saw cool stuff (Tower Bridge, Tower of London, as well as old Roman ruins that Paul navigated us past), and ate a very British dinner at Chipotle, to acknowledge that the teens were remarkably good sports. 

Dan and the Harris family, paying homage to a sewer engineer

And, now we've been home for two weeks. It was a bit of a rough re-entry into normal routines - at least for me - but I'm plotting out the next year or two of potential vacations to keep living the dream.

A day to remember Artsy Antwerp

Today, I exercised questionable judgement, but achieved some notable milestones: For the first time, I rode 90 miles, unplanned, directly from my house and not as part of some organized ride. It was also the furthest I've ridden without chamois (by about 5 miles). I also got my first sunburn and heat rash of the year, in mid-September. It was also the furthest I've ridden after taking a bit of a riding hiatus.

View of the St. Croix in Stillwater while I drank a Coke, and emergency Fritos and sports drink stuff to get me through the last 12 miles on a super hot day.

I think part of the reason why I rode this far (other than the fact that the first tailwindy 50 miles felt terrific), was that I sat on my butt a ton this week after returning from Europe and my mostly vegetarian, mostly wheat-free stomach still is trying to return to normal after the hearty Wisconsin, I mean Belgian, diet (beer, cheese, bread). I was feeling gross.

While riding, I was thinking about Antwerp, the city where we spent two nights after our Beercyling tour. It was a bit more - - - urban? than the other places I've been in Belgium, other than Brussels (which is very modern). Antwerp is more industrial, but also kind of artsy and fashion-y. Less banker-ish than Brussels.

Antwerp's beautiful train station.

We stayed at a B&B called Rock Lobster, owned by a music journalist and his Amnesty International-working partner. The B&B is in a pretty fun neighborhood with a lot of restaurants (delicious Thai) and music. They had some good suggestions of things to do beyond walking to the tourist part of town. But of course, we walked to the tourist part of town.

Requisite shot of old buildings near the plaza. 

MAS museum with free access to observation deck to view the city.

Antwerp

Super cool old building with the Corbijn exhibit

After doing the Rick Steves walking tour of Antwerp, we went to an Anton Corbijn exhibit at a cool old building by the river that had just reopened for this exhibit. Corbijn wrote notes on the walls, in pencil, to explain the context of his photos of U2, Nirvana, Depeche Mode, REM, Debbie Harry, Grace Jones, etc. It was a great exhibit. After that, we went to a bar that we'd seen advertised on the Beercycling Tour and then a weird little bar that our Beercycling guide had recommended. Beer, beer, beer. 

Antwerp was an interesting pit stop between the tour and London. It isn't a priority to go back, but it was good to see. And now it is time to apply aloe and hit the hay.

It's called Beercycling (versus Cyclingbeer) for a reason...

We went to Europe. It was great. The end.

For days, I've struggled to figure out how to write a compelling blog post that is representative yet brief. Chronologically? Topically? How do you write it so it doesn't sound like an alcoholic third grader's report of "What I did on my summer vacation"? Not sure. Anyhow, here are highlights from the first leg of our trip - our five-day Beercycling (©? ®? ™? I didn't take that class in law school) tour of the Flanders region of Belgium. The photos appear below.

Day 1: After spending Day-1 (Day 0?) in transit to Brugge, we got our bikes for the week and went straightaway on a test ride to... a brewery. Then, we went for a short ride and had a picnic. Then we went to a brewery. Afterwards, I walked around while many people napped away their jetlag. We then went to a bar for a beer, and then went out to eat, and had some beer. (I split an order of rabbit and an order of mussels with one of our tour guides from Germany - - the rabbit was shockingly good.) This gives you a good sense of the week to come! In total, I think we rode fewer than 10 miles.

Day 2: We rode along canals to the North Sea, stopped for a snack, rode some more, had a beer, rode to picnic site, rode to a brewery where we had some beer and went on a tour. We then rode to Diksmuide, where we stayed at a nice B&B that, after dinner, served as a nice spot for us to share beers that all the tour participants brought from the US, Canada, and Germany. This was our longest day of riding - I think it was close to 45 miles. Was this the day where we also came across a beer vending machine - complete with corresponding glassware?

Day 3: We stopped at the Yser Tower war monument and rode to Watou. On the way, we stopped at the site that was the impetus for choosing this specific tour: the Abbey St. Sixtus, home of Westveterlen 12 (cue the angelic choir). We had a great lunch (and beer, of course, as well as beer ice cream) at the Abbey Cafe, bought some beer to bring home, visited a hop farm, had some beer at our B&B in Watou, went next door to the St. Bernardus brewery and went on a tour and had some beer, met some nice people from France who Dan and I impromptually (not a word) exchanged gifts with, rode to town for a fixed-price 3-course meal paired with beer. After dinner, a few of us decided to ride to France. Why not? It was close. And dark. My impression of the rural French after spending a total of 5 minutes in their country? They have dogs that like to bark. Afterwards, we were at the bar at the B&B and I totally, decisively, hit my limit on my daily intake of all indulgences (beer, ice cream, chocolate, bread, cheese) and went to bed.

Day 4: We rode to De Struise brewery on the way to Ieper, went on a tour, and had some beer. Before dinner, Dan and I snuck away and got some coffee, but then saw some fellow tourmates and joined them for a beer, had an early dinner (and beer) at the hotel (super great vegetarian options!), and then went to the Last Post Ceremony to honor those who died in WWI. Ieper was destroyed in WWI and completely rebuilt 100 years ago. It's pretty amazing to see old photos/drawings of the destruction and compare it to what's there now. We then, of course, went and had some beer before calling it a night. (We visited another hop farm either on Day 4 or Day 5, I can't remember.)

Day 5: We rode through many old farms for the third day in a row (it was fun to pick out the crops)  and took a rails-to-trails route to Roeselare. On the way, we stopped at a WWI cemetery and later had a picnic and drank up the rest of the beer that the tour participants brought to share. We ended the tour at Rodenbach brewery, and went on a tour and, well, had some beer! 

I think if you do not like beer, you should not go on a Beercycling trip. I appreciated the wide variety of Belgian beers we sampled - - there was something for everyone (unless you don't like beer!) It was a ton of fun and I'd like to do another tour of theirs - perhaps one that is a little more bikey? I need to compare the future dates with my planned #BikeMS rides, though, to see what the options are... 

Photos!

Day 0:

Requisite photo of the tower in Brugge the night before the tour.
We could see the tower from our hotel room. 

This is my favorite little bar in Brugge. We went there
shortly after arriving, remembering it from 2 years ago...

Day 1:

First brewery, Day 1. We went right after breakfast
and did our introductions there.

This was where we had our picnic. I took the photo because
our dog loves to do this to me, to get a butt scratch.
Somehow, I doubt that is what's going on here.

Little brewery. The guy in the light blue shirt owns and operates it,
with the assistance of his family. They only bottle when his kid has a break
from his high school activities. It was pretty high tech for a little place.

Day 2:

Nice day!

My bike for the week. I went and put my hands in
the North Sea.

Vending machine, with beer. Range of suitable glasses
are on the shelves. Glasses and bottles (required to be reused) go in the bin.

The dude with the suit jacket and red shoes owns
De Dolle and is the brewer. He hates giving tours (maybe because of his uniform?).
The brewery is old and uses open fermentation techniques. Hugely different than
Fort Lapin.

Day 3:

These two photos are of peace monuments built after WWI, blown up in WWII,
and a place where neo-Nazis used to like to gather. 

I should have included people for scale.

The grotto outside St. Sixtus, home of Westveterlen 12 (and other
Westveterlen beers)

Fenced-off walkway to the super secretive abbey

I got special permission to take this photo of Dan.
Westveterlen 12 in liquid form, Westveterlen 8 in the ice cream.
So. Good. So good. Yum.

Our cool B&B next to St. Bernardus. That screen door went to our room.

I can't resist things like this.

Self-explanatory

Hop field from the rooftop of St. Bernardus. I took videos of the hop
stripping process, but am not sharing them here. Let me know if you
want to see them!

We rode to this place for our 3-course pairing dinner.
The couple who owns it are super nice. And the guy was
apologetic about serving me ham pate instead of the vegetarian
food I requested. It was okay!

Our proof of arriving in France.

Day 4:

De Struise brewery in an old elementary school. Great explanation
of the brewing process on the chalkboard that the dude walked us through
for a long time, as we drank beer. The woman in black
is doing her first #BikeMS ride next week in CA. We had a nice chat!

They had a pretty state-of-the art brewery. They also roast coffee. I took
this photo of the many taps. I wasn't as fond of their beer,
but I really liked them.

The Menen Gate, before the Last Post. The walls are lined with the names
of people from all different countries who died in WWI but for
whom there are no graves.

Another angle

It was pretty crazy to see something like this constructed post WWI after the entire
town was demolished.

Day 5:

This cemetery had graves for people who had been identified, but (unlike the
Menen Gate) had graves for a ton of people killed in WWI who were unidentified.

Cool building where they used to toast the malt for
Rodenbach.

Rodenbach. I need to work on my pronunciation.

See above. None of the other breweries we visited aged their beer
in this fashion. This brewery served us coffee
before our tour and before our beer!