Happy Birthday, Tessa!!

We (Mom and I) are going over to wish Tessa a Happy Birthday. And since I had some room left on this page, I thought why not also here.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TESSA!!

On the Road Again

I’ve been off the bike for about three weeks the result of something that has been hard to categorize. Not a cold - no sneezing red runny nose or fever. I did a great Wolfman Jack impression and people at work would stop by my desk just to hear me talk – or was it to see if I could talk. Like I said three weeks off the bike.

Yesterday I just couldn’t let the weekend go without a short excursion. I would have gone Friday but I was still a bit… whatever it is. Sunday… I don’t ride on Sundays. Saturday evening – 4:00 p.m. until 9:00 p.m. is Stake Conference. So it has to be Saturday morning. Well, before noon anyway. Mom (Gramma to some of you) wants to go Low-Tiding – that’s at about 11:00 a.m. at Penrose Point State Park about 13 miles away.

My condition is such now that Wolfman has left me and whatever this thing is bedevils my morning hours with coughing spells. Sometimes almost uncontrollable. After I’m finished with that, it is uncertain just how far my lungs will take me. So I need an outlet. Ride to where Mom is and then decide. That then dictates when I will ride

Getting ready to ride was like being a kid again. Can’t wait to get on the road though there is some apprehension as to just how good my legs will be. How much burn after such a long holiday? And my lungs? Will I end up on the side of the road retching through the coughing fits? And more. But it doesn’t out weigh the joy of knowing I’ll be back on the road. And after the usual preparation I glide easily down the drive and out onto the street. All is at peace and I comfortably make the 13 miles out to Penrose. I do, however, notice that getting down to the bay requires a steep descent. A very steep descent. A very, very steep descent. Riding back means….

When I arrive at the park and find a table at the water’s edge (well, it is when the tide is in) I can see Mom half a mile out on the spit. Wandering slowly side to side looking for treasure and oblivious to me. So I sit down to make myself comfortable – pull off my helmet, shoes and socks and drink my Endurox. By the time Mom makes it back to the table I’ve retreated to the shade of a nearby oak tree. She shows me the days gathering of shells and agates and asks if I want to eat. If I do, she’ll get the lunch out of the car.

After lunch – peanut butter and jam sandwich – I fill my water bottles and make the slow ascent out of the park. There’ll be couple of stair steps back down to the bay then that climb – that steep climb back up to the highway. Thankfully it’s in the shade and miraculously (with the help of proper gear selection) I spin up it like a pro. The ride home is hot but so… fulfilling? I don’t know – it just feels good to ride again even though I had to take a nap before going to my meetings. And the bed felt so good last night.

Shearing Joy...

Without exertion I remember few things about my one year at BYU. Some things, however, come with ease and joy. One such is a midday concert by George Shearing. My music choice in the late 50's and early 60's was easing toward jazz. Not the raucus thing that it seems to have become but a well considered, although at times immediate and spontaneous, style of music. I had sung with a double octet called the Pony Pipers. It was a group formed out of the Milwaukie High School acappella choir. Most of the things we sang were popular songs. However none were jazz songs. My impression was that jazz was intrumental. Jamie Crandall one of my roommates at the Y corrected that error by introducing me to Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross. And when I got back to Portland I was singing Sermonette as a solo. Of course my enduring devotion is to The Great One, Dave Brubeck. Back from my mission I found Jerry Mulligan. My favorite recording, Feelin' Good, has been lost. I do still have a recording of Brubeck and Muligan together in Mexico. And there were so many others... Now my voice is gone but the music goes on.