2011.

I haven’t written anything of real substance at all this year.  In my time with the writing group, I pulled out old pieces that needed revising and I picked up a piece I had begun a year or so ago and have it up to about 12 pages that need some serious editing.  As for this blog, life has become too routine to really write about so I’ve gone back and forth between wanting to end this blog or just keep it alive in the hopes that life will again hand me some super fabulous adventures worth sharing.  Though I suppose I should be the one to initiate any adventures.  But that’s not the point of this entry.

the past year, my first full year in colorado, has been a time of settling in and making it home: finding work, school, friends, the whole nine yards.  And I logged a lot, but not enough, miles on the bialahou, most with Hayden in tow.

For the past few year, I’ve resolved to do more of what I enjoy and less of what I don’t.  But I think that it’s doing the things I don’t enjoy that build character, so this year, I’ll emphasize what makes me happy and not complain so much about the crud I don’t enjoy so much… or at least I’ll try not to complain.

Focusing on the things I enjoy most means buckling down and getting back into writing, logging a few more miles in each week with the bialahou (and Hayden), and venturing outside of my comfort zone photographically, possibly doing a P52 experiment (one photo each week with a different theme… which I’ll try to post every friday.)  I also plan to continue my attempt to use less technology and spend less money (and make more, as well!)

On that not, enjoy your New Year and don’t drink and drive!

slow and steady wins the race…

… although driving home in the snow with a Christmas tree strapped to the top of one’s monster truck.  But, then again, what do I know?

Let me start at the beginning…

The men and I were in need of a Christmas tree when a friend of mine told me about Red Feathers.  For only a $10 permit fee, people can cut their own tree.  Wonderful!  Tom and I have never cut down our own tree so we just had to take on this adventure.

The drive to Red Feather was uneventful and we arrived with only 20 minutes to drive the snowy and slick 5 miles into the national forest.  20 minutes, you say?  Just enough time to drive into the tree-cutting area considering the roads were so slippery.

We found a nice spot, parked the escalade, bundled up, and began the trek into the forest to find the perfect tree.  Hayden, sitting nicely in his fancy blue sled, Diesel leaping and bounding, trying to break free of his leash, Tom spotted a lovely lodgepole pine.  While he sawed away, Hayden, Diesel, and I watched as the snow began to fall… then Tom, in his blue flannel shirt, hollered “TIMBER!” in full mountain-man mode.

Hayden and Diesel were amazed…We made our way back to the truck to find a nit-wit had chosen to park directly behind us even though there were ample spots just 10 feet ahead.  No worries, though… this gave us a few moments to warm up inside the truck while they cut their tree and loaded their monster truck.

After loading the fabulous tree, we began the drive home.  The snow still falling, creating road conditions that begged for caution, we were a bit surprised to see a speed demon in a monster truck zip by us and the five cars in front of us… in a no-pass zone.  That sort of stupidity always gets on my nerves because that jerk is not only putting himself and his passengers at risk, but those he is passing and anyone coming in the opposite direction as well.

So, about five miles up the road, the sun fully set, it was hilarious to see that ding-dong on the side of the road, his improperly secured tree having fallen off his truck.  As Tom began a jolly, Santa-like laugh, Hayden chimed it, having no idea what Tom was laughing at, but assuming it was the proper thing to do.

As I find myself inevitably rushing about this holiday season, I’ll do my best to remind myself of the monster truck man and his sad, over-sized, under-strapped Christmas tree… and I’ll slow down and savor the season.  I hope you all do the same.

 

thanksgiving…

Wow, I can’t believe the year is so close to ending.  I was just talking to a very good friend of mine about my annual year-in-reflection and I realized that I have quite a bit to be thankful for this year.

To start, I couldn’t be happier living here in Colorado with my main man and Tom… the weather, for the most part, is beautiful and very conducive to bicycling with Hayden.  And I honestly could not have wished for a better husband than Tom… and its obvious that life would be very dull if it weren’t for our superstar Hayden.  I love waking up to his little face every day.  I suppose Diesel and Otis are pretty snazzy men, too.

Reconnecting with the aforementioned good friend also tops my list of great things worth pausing to be thankful for.  Since getting together with Adam for the first time in probably ten years, we’ve been chatting all the time and I couldn’t be happier.  Our conversations have opened up parts of my brain that haven’t been exercised in a while and I find myself coming up with some great ideas as a result.

I’m thankful for having a job… especially one where Hayden is more than welcome to accompany me.  Hayden is always so excited when he finds us pulling into the parking lot at the First Presbyterian Church; he shouts “friends! friends!” and darts up the stairs all on his own to the nursery.  And when the others arrive, he is sure to call them by name or, should he forget a name, he welcomes them with a peppy “Friend!”

And, of course, I’m thankful for the friends and family I have both near and far.  This year, being so far from the bulk of my friends and family, the convenience factor is gone and it has really become evident who is and who is not there.  And I’m happy to say that the people I really hoped would keep in touch (and not just through facebook… calling that connected is a bunch of crock) did and that makes all the difference.

(also, I’m quite thankful that the semester is coming to a close so I can focus more on Hayden and the other things I enjoy, like bicycling, writing and photography.)

 

So, as you chow down tomorrow on your tofurkey or turkey, be sure to take a moment and think not just of the great food before you, but of the great things that happen throughout the year that make life what it is.

 

meatheads and mariah in the morning…

There’s nothing quite as painful as being without a bicycle, especially the bialahou.  So this morning, to quench that thirst, I drove over to LA Fitness in Saugus for a spin class.  As soon as the employees unlocked the gym doors at 8am, meatheads young and old charged the door and headed to the weights, talking politics with a thick Bah-stin accent that oozes into the air in a more offensive way than nails on a chalkboard on the way.

The 8:15 class turned out to be more of a comedy show with a bit of exercise on the side.  The lady was spunky as she directed the riders to “TUCK!  UP!  TUCK!  UP!”  I think she thought that moving one’s upper body to alternate hunching and sitting up was good exercise.  But that’s not all… she instructed people to have rigid arms, something I’ve always heard to avoid when exercising.  But, not being an instructor, and I use this term very loosely, I may not be up to date on the all things fitness.  Oh, and have I mentioned that the instructor was spinning out on almost everything she did… everyone was.  Hello!  Add resistence to prevent that terrible jiggle that we all develop as we grow older or after we have kids.

Not at all satisfied with the “climbs” during Mariah Carey ballads (who can be energized by that?!), I opted to stay for a portion of the second class.  That girl did a complete 180… she brought the club music from the night before to the gym… if nothing else, I learned that even the talented Adele has remixes that any meathead could bust a move to… if you call that bustin’ a move.

Also, I was under the impression that stretching after working out was important.  Again, not a professional, I may be wrong but upper body stretches before cycling, which emphasizes the lower body, may not be the most beneficial.

 

That said, Hayden and I are having a fabulous visit here in New England… despite the stinkin’ jerks that make their own lanes to turn right and honk to tell the front driver to trun even though there are two signs telling drivers “No Turn On Red.”  I’m sure I’ll have a more upbeat post by the end of the trip… until then, enjoy your day and, remember, cars have ‘Rs’ and they hate to be neglected.

boston bound…

Listening to my “super hanson!” playlist, the men and I are headed to Boulder before Tom takes Hayden-ator and I to Denver International Airport.
Our little stud-muffin is thrilled to ride a “spaceship,” with “helmet on.” (Although we aren’t really wearing helmets… we’ll be wearing seat belts though.)
We both look forward to seeing all those folks we love so much. Oh, and we are super excited to go apple-picking… because, as I may have mentioned, apple-picking in Colorado means choosing apples from the bins in the produce aisle of the local King Soopers.
Stay tuned for more reports from the road… or sky. Oh, and Tom, expect a postcard or two.

pitkin county foliage…

As a last-minute adventure, Tom and I decided to take Hayden and Diesel on a fall foliage excursion… to Snowmass and Aspen. Talk about a fun time!

Hayden and I trekked to Boulder with Tomtom Friday and familiarized ourselves with the bike path system of the city while Tom toiled away at work until noon. Then… we hit the road! The 4-hour drive with a sick toddler and a tired man was not exactly an award-winning time, but we survived and saw some amazing foliage as we drove up and over Independence Pass (12,095 feet), the area where Lance Armstrong trains, which is totally insane because this girl can barely breathe to walk at that elevation… but I hope to change that very soon because my hope is to bialahou as many passes as possible, starting with the few passes along Trail Ridge Road in the Rocky Mountain National Park. But that is neither here nor there, so, back to our foliage excursion.

Snowmass is amazing! We are staying at the Silvertree Hotel, situated beside Aspen in the middle of the aspen-covered mountains. Pulling off Owl Creek Road into Snowmass Village, it becomes obvious that “building up” has taken on an entirely new meaning in the mountains. No skyscrapers here, no sir. The road to reach our hotel, and all the other hotels and high-priced condos, is a winding road almost as steep as my father’s driveway (which is at least a 15% grade) back in New Hampshire. To get up and, most importantly, to get down the hill at the posted 15mph, I had to shift the escalade into second gear otherwise I’d have burned up the brakes and then I’d not only have a runaway truck, but an angry Tom. And neither of which is a good time.

We began our Saturday at 4:15 and were out the door a little after 5:00am, headed to Maroon Bells, the most photographed peaks in North America (according to the US Forest Service.) Arriving around 6:00 to see the sunrise, the parking lot was already full. We scored the last spot. Walking over to the mirror-like Maroon Lake, we saw at least 35 people with tripods all set up, ready to shoot. And almost everyone had a pal to join them. Me, well, I had Tom, Hayden, and Diesel, so I certainly made up for anyone missing a buddy.

With no tripod, I did what I could before the sun officially rose, at which time, I was able to capture the following shot… which I’m sure is just like what everyone else captured. Still, I’m happy to have been able to see the Bells because, as everyone has said, they are more beautiful than photos can convey.

After warming up in the truck, we headed to downtown Aspen for a quick bite to eat before heading out to Castle Creek Road to the ghost town of Ashcroft. As we drove along the winding road, laid out like ribbon unraveling, I realized that I’ll never again be satisfied with green leaves and green grass… when the breeze blew, the leaves of the aspen glittered in the sun in a way that can not be replicated on any medium. It has to be seen in person. And the light that passes through and reflects off the leaves is just perfect… it’s the golden light that photographers wait for all day in a forest of aspen.

Walking through Ashcroft, having read all about the Gold Rush and mining boom of the mid-late 1800s, I really got a feel for how difficult life must have been for laborers more than a century ago.

Back at the hotel, the men and I rested up and headed out to dinner at Matsuhisa, a Japanese restaurant in Aspen, just in time for storm clouds to roll in… just when I thought the trees couldn’t look any better, the dark sky began to contrast the seemingly self-illuminated leaves in a way that no New England trees could ever hope to.

[oh, and can I just say that Matsuhisa has amazing food and some crazy expensive wine... one bottle alone sold for $14,995!]

photos from today…

finally…

After almost three years, I’m finally riding that hill to regaining my independence.  No one ever tells mom-to-be that they’ll likely lose that independent streak… at least for a little bit.  So, when pregnancy hit and I all-of-a-sudden didn’t want to do the things I was so used to doing – like getting up at 5:00am to go for a bicycle ride along the coast or going out for a smoothie by myself – I felt like I was going to be stuck forever.

Things have gradually changed, however, giving me bursts of the “I can do it all alone” attitude… but that all fades relatively quickly when the idea of being away from Hayden-ator makes a reappearance.

Then, one day, it hit, like a baseball flying through a living room window… I don’t need Tom to do fun things.  I’m still that fun, adventurous lady he hired to watch Diesel way back in 2007.  And I can still do all those super fun things I used to do and haven’t yet done but really want to try.  So I crept out of bed with Hayden and readied us both for the day and off we went to Old Town while Tom slept off the last of his sickness.

It was great, liberating.  Being able to not feel like I was walking through thick sand while Tom slept and then deciding what we wanted to do for the day.  I made up my mind and I went… and, though it is a small feat, it is enough to give me momentum to keep me moving in that direction that I so desperately need to keep me sane.

I’m sure Tom appreciated Hayden and I going out, not complaining of the day being wasted by 9:00 in the morning.  There was no reason to complain because, by 9:00, we were putting our shoes and helmets on and heading out the door.

We ended up meeting Tom for a nice lunch before we again went our separate way: Hayden and I home to study and Tom to do some chores he wanted to do.

 

On our adventure… Hayden and I visited what is definitely the top outdoor market of all we have encountered (well, except maybe Todd’s Farm in Rowley, Massachusetts)
and Hayden, ever the momma’s boy (yep, he prefers tofu to Tom’s food now!), spotted a snazzy yellow tricycle:

first flat of 2011…

Hayden and I began our day with a nice bicycle ride to the Little Bird Bakeshop in Old Town, stopping along the way to watch the train pass by.

hayden munching on granola while we wait for our hot chocolates...

By the time we arrived at the coffee shop, the drizzle had begun to create puddles on the ground.  Not exactly ideal weather for the bialahou with one brake and two pretty smooth tires… remember, they haven’t been changed in two years and I’ve done covered some decent mileage.  So, on the way home, it was a not-so-bad surprise when I went over what I thought was a rock, but soon realised was a nail in my tire.  My poor armadillo was punctured so deep that every time my wheel when around, I felt a thunk.  The deflated tire and deflated ride translated to me finally having an excuse to put snazzy new tires (why change only one when both need to be made new?) on the bialahou.

Thinking Tom had already left for work, I called him just to tell him I had a flat.  And, as luck would have it, he hadn’t left yet so, as he used to a few years ago, he rescued me (and Hayden this time) from a frustrating flat.  I gently placed the bialahou in the back of the escalade and off we drove… not into the sunset, but to retrieve the two tires I bought before we left for our trek across America last summer.  Not a fan of changing tires… not since I had about 17 in one season pre-Hayden… I brought the beautiful bialahou to Recycled Cycles and paid someone to do the dirty work.

Now, I just hope this rain fades fast so the roads and paths dry for a dry ride tomorrow.

lessons from the little guy…

We can all leran things from babies and toddlers… they live for the moment, ignoring the chaos that surrounds them more gracefully than any adult I’ve ever met.

I always have a million things on my mind… it’s so overwhelming that I’ve come to live by the list application on my iPhone, that little piece of technology that keeps me sane and insane.  And more now than ever before, I find I am reminding myself to slow down, to absorb the little moments

Now that Hayden is growing up and I’m settling into life here in Fort Collins, complete with friends and obligations, I’m returning to that busy, busy girl I once was… only busier because I have to not only balance my needs and wants, but Hayden’s as well.

The men and I went to a car show in Old Town today and all I could think of was making sure Hayden didn’t touch any of the fancy cars, or trip on the sidewalk, or run up to strange dogs and start petting them without asking.  And I was thinking of all the shizzle I have to do this weekend for my classes and how I’m going to find the time, and the reading I want to get done, and the bicycling I want to do… and sleep.  All these thoughts keep me from thoroughly enjoying Hayden.  And it’s a sad thought, it truly is and I don’t know that non-parents can relate to this sadness.  It’s as if the world is going by too fast and, no matter how fast I ride (because that’s how I roll), I can never keep pace.

This runaway train of thoughts never rests… I go to bed thinking of all I still need to do.  I never give myself a day off.  I never allow myself to breathe… no even in the shower can I relax because I’m always poking my head out to make sure Hayden isn’t climbing on the toilet, trying to reach the sink or opening the drawers to get Tom’s hair gel to do his coif.

So, I think this week, even with my writers’ group, my photo club, my classes, and all the stuff that takes me away from Hayden, I’m going to try to slow down and just let the world go by while I enjoy my little star.

oh the bialahou…

I think it’s safe to say that anyone that knows me knows I’m addicted to cycling.  The bialahou, my Bianchi Pista, is my most prized possession and I treat it with the utmost respect.  Over the years, I’ve been able to bicycle in more than a few absolutely stunning places… thanks to the help and support of Tom, my main squeeze.

My love affair with all things bicycles began in 2003 when I bought a 1962 Sears Spaceliner.  My vintage teal single-speed is an example of great craftsmanship and wonderful style.  The Spaceliner is the ideal bicycle for cruising around town in a skirt or dress, especially in the early evening, when the light is just right to really bring out the deep blue/green of the paint.

Then I was introduced to single-speed road bicycles via the guy I was dating at the time.  He had a sleek 2005 Specialized Langster that he let me borrow more often than not.  It was a nice ride, but a bit rough thanks to the aluminum frame.  Nevertheless, it piqued my interest in a “real” bicycle.  So, when it was time for him to upgrade, I inherited the Black Beauty.  Eventually, a friend of mine spotted a bicycle that was perfect for me: the 2006 Bianchi Pista.  It came with no brakes and a fixed wheel which, with a little help, were changed.  Then, after a bout of flat tires, I brought the then nameless bicycle to Salem Cycle and asked them to figure out what was wrong with my tire because I obviously couldn’t find any bad spot on the thing.

When I Tom and I picked up my bicycle, I noticed the rear wheel had been flipped… to fixed.  Well, rather than bring it back, I decided to give it a shot.  And, boy did it feel great!  I was hooked.

Shortly thereafter, I had a tripped planned for the last frontier.  Yep, I was headed to Alaska!  I borrowed a bicycle box and hopped on the plane, landing in Alaska in may of 2008.  That trip sealed the deal and I was bound and determined to bring the bialahou anywhere and everywhere.  So, when Tom, on his way home from Korea, invited me to meet him in Oregon so I could bicycle Crater Lake National Park, I couldn’t say no.

After that trip, Tom and I returned to Salem and life went back to normal: he tried to convince me to date him and I kept shooting him down (sorry, Tom, but it’s true.)  Eventually, though, I gave in… and then we had Hayden, the best surprise ever.  And just before our little star’s first birthday, we hit the road to find a new place to call home.  Along the way, we stopped at as many national parks as possible so we could explore and so I could bialahou.

Now that we’ve settled in northern Colorado, I’ve been rebuilding my list of places to bicycle, including across the good ol’ U. S. of A.

My current list includes, but is not limited to:

-Mount Evans, home to the highest paved road in North America (I’m still working toward breathing above 7,000 feet so this won’t happen for a while)

-Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park (again, very high elevation so this, too has to wait)

-historic Route 89 (stretches from Canada to Mexico, starting in Montana and ending in Arizona)

-Pikes Peak, one of Colorado’s 14ers

-Pacific Coast

-across America (as I mentioned above)

 

That said, what have been your favorite places to bicycle?  And where do you hope to ride in the future?