Let me interrupt myself with some photos from the opening camping trip with Trina. We have such a great time just hanging out or exploring together, not moving fast, but taking time to spot details and notice interesting things along the way. Which hasn't been very hard to do lately, with all the flowers out to grab our attention. It continues to be a flowerfest everywhere we go.
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| From 2010 Summer |
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| From 2010 Summer |
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| From 2010 Summer |
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| From 2010 Summer |
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| From 2010 Summer |
And critters.
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| From 2010 Summer |
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| From 2010 Summer |
Oh, and our familiar adventure critters.
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| From 2010 Summer |
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| From 2010 Summer |
Okay, now my bike-trip doubts.
First, the route. I had it on good authority that the route I was heading off on went through to where I hoped it would. Um. If "good authority" can be taken to mean that I heard from an acquaintance that a friend of his had done it, not on a bike. So pretty-sure-probably it went. But if it didn't, it meant a day's worth of backtracking to get out and try other unknown options.
Second, I always have some doubt about how tough I am. Like if I'm tough enough for this kind of trip. And I'm never quite sure when I'm biting off more than I can chew, or if I'll be able to chew the kind of things I've chewed in the past. I'll file this feeling under Cautious Optimism, and call it a virtue. But still, I do pause to wonder.
Third, some gear issues. I hadn't used this bike for this kind of trip before. The bike I'd planned to use turned up with a broken part I couldn't get ahold of at the last minute. So I picked this bike from my quiver.
And, though I've done lots of traveling on a bike with loads and loads of gear, I haven't done that much this lightly loaded. And I don't really have a system. My current "system" started by throwing anything I thought I might need into Trina's truck for our creek camping trip. Then, before my afternoon solo-bike send-off, I hashed through everything and tried to pick out anything I'd need, set aside anything I wouldn't, and tried to find a way to strap it to the bike and to me.
I have one of the world's smallest and least-warm sleeping bags and a small pad. I was worried about freezing on the shoulder of the mountains, so packed a goose-down coat with the sleeping bag. Some wool jerseys and knee warmers. Rain pants and jacket. But left my small not-much-of-a-tent behind.
I invented some quick-cook dinner recipes on-the-spot, and gathered the lightest calories from a giant bag of food I'd brought along. Did a few last minute bike repairs. Then, armed with an old rotting, no-longer-dry bag, another bag from a camp chair Trina happened to have in the truck, and a bundle of straps, I managed to get what I thought I needed onto the bike and into my pack.
In the shade on the side of the creek, way back in the canyons, this, er, only took me a couple hours, just in time to start riding. I plan, but I don't plan ahead. (For contrast, I present my friend Mike, who seems to know what he's doing before he does it.)
So, just past the heat of the day, Trina and the dogs sent me on my way. Off into the unknown.
--Greg
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