Lookout Mountain: take one

Sunday, 03/18/2018

Today Salem and I have decided to go on a bike ride to train for our upcoming bikepacking trip to Glenwood Springs, which we're planning for July. We've done a few jaunts together here and there around town, but haven't done any serious climbing yet... so we are going to tackle Lookout Mountain. I found it on Strava; it is popular with local cyclists, so it seems like a pretty good route to try.

We go to REI in the morning to buy a bike rack for Salem's car, which he's been meaning to get for a while, and then (after stopping for some coffee and chai at Starbucks) we put it on his car and get our bikes all loaded up. Since we're training for a bikepacking trip, we both bring two rear panniers; I also have my handlebar bag. We don't fill the panniers completely up, but we do put a little bit of weight in them--bike locks, full water bottles, that kind of thing. We'll slowly increase the weight on future rides until we're training with all of our camping gear and everything that we'll be taking with us in July. I tell Salem that the Lookout Mountain route is pretty popular, so we'll probably be passed by a lot of people on fancy road bikes. My excuse for being slower than them will be that I'm carrying a lot of weight on my bike. Yep. Always blame your equipment when you can.

We park near Crown Hill Lake in Wheat Ridge, then head west on 26th until Simms, move over onto 32nd, and keep to 32nd into Golden. We pass by the Coors factory on our way into town, and there is something ominous about the industrial buildings looming over us. I kinda like it and its spooky tunnel. It smells really bad around back, though--like rotten fruit or something. When we get to Golden proper, we cut straight to 19th, skipping the roads with bike lanes in favor of a more direct route. The sun is hidden behind clouds--which is probably a good thing, because I didn't bring any sunscreen or anything. I've got arm warmers on, but I'm still in shorts; it's not too cold (...........yet). The climb itself starts without much ado over on the southwest side of town.

Salem stays right on my wheel for the first 2/3 or 3/4 or so of the climb. I set a pace of 5 or 6 mph, sucking periodically on a water bottle full of a homemade sports drink (water, honey, electrolyte salts, and grape juice--it is almost sickeningly sweet, but I need all the energy I can get). I've never gone up this climb before; I think it lasts for something like 4 or 5 miles, so I try to pace myself. It's not a race or anything, after all. The scenery all around us is breathtaking. There's still snow lingering in the shadows of red cliffs, brindle with evergreens. I hope the footage I'm taking with my helmet cam turns out all right.

The gradient is manageable, though it isn't easy. Strava says it averages about 5% over the course of the climb. It gets steeper when the turns switchback up the mountain, but evens out on the straightaways. We are passed by a few cyclists--all of them riding fancy road bikes, as I predicted. Specialized, Cervelo, Orbea. Someday I'll have a bike like that, too--but for now I'm happy with Bike Rothar. She might be slow, but she's dependable--and dang comfortable to boot, and that's more important to me, anyway.

At some point, a bull terrier comes running up to me out of nowhere and keeps trying to jump up on me. He's not being vicious, but I have to come to a stop a few times to avoid running over his feet. We don't see his owner anywhere, and can't figure out where he came from. He has a collar on, but no tags, no identification whatsoever. At some point, a motorcycle passes us, and the dog goes chasing after it, leaving us behind. There's a cliff on both sides of the road--rising above us to the right, and dropping below us to the left. The dog is right in the middle of traffic, galloping around blind corners... I think to myself that he's going to be hit by a car and killed. He certainly has no fear of cars, which have to slow and serve around him. He comes back after a while, unable to catch up with the motorcyclist, and chases after Salem's rear wheel. Fortunately, another quarter mile up the road or so, its owners drive past, spot him, and stow him safely in their car. It is a relief to see him rescued.

I stop once or twice on the way up--to blow my nose, flip my map, etc.--but I try not to linger too long. I want to make it to the top without any serious breaks. Salem passes me and stays ahead for the last 1/3 or 1/4 of the climb. Toward the top, I can tell that he's slowing down to let me catch up. I take advantage of his kindness and sprint (...if you can call it a sprint...) past him so that I can be the first one to the summit.

Salem and I pose for a selfie together at the summit. Salem is snazzy in orange; I am a dork with a Bike Depot jersey and crazy hair.

Once at the summit, we take the required selfies and settle down for a quick lunch by the Buffalo Bill museum. It's really cold and windy up here, so I bundle up in a rain jacket and rain pants. Salem busts out the fancy cycling jacket he splurged on yesterday at REI. (We go to REI a lot...) I've forgotten to bring my full-finger cycling gloves, but am saved by the pair of gloves I accidentally stole from Margy when I last visited her and Dad in Alaska (I'd left them in the pockets of my rain jacket without realizing it). Thanks, Margy--I promise I will return them next time I visit!

All in all, the ascent lasted somewhere between an hour and an hour and a half (I wasn't paying super close attention). The descent takes, oh, idk, like 15 minutes? It is super fun, though. The speed limit on that road is 20 mph... we go between 25 and 30 most of the way down. I film the whole descent, so we'll see how that turns out, too.

When we get back into Golden, I take my rain pants and rain jacket off--and instantly regret it, as a cold front kinda rolls in, but I carry on without because I really don't want to stop again. We ride the gently rolling hills back the way we came, and the sky spits rain and sleet at us. Thunder rumbles in the distance. A pretty significant headwind forms, too, making the rest of the ride feel tougher than it otherwise would be. There's a hill, near Simms and 26th, that seems more difficult to surmount, in that moment, than the entirety of Lookout Mountain... but we push through. Salem lingers behind me a bit, due to the headwind (his bike setup is somewhat less aerodynamic than mine), but not by much. When we make it back to his car, it's gotten really cold, and the sky in the distance is a foreboding gray-black. One of Salem's brothers calls us as we head home, making sure we're not on Lookout Mountain anymore. Apparently Golden is now in the middle of a hailstorm, and we only just missed it. How incredibly lucky...!

We part ways after Salem drops me off, but not before he acquires some cake and protein shakes at a grocery store. (Cake is a very important cycling staple.) The first thing I do when I get back inside is take a long, hot shower to warm up, and then dig into a bowl of vegetable pasta that I made this morning.

Today was a great day. I'm so glad I have a cycling buddy in Colorado now. In all the terrible winters and emotional turmoil, I'd forgotten how much I love this sport...

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Today's stats

Distance: 27.6 mi
Time: ~2.5 hours
Avg speed: 10.8 mph
Max speed: 30.6 mph
Elevation gain: ~1880 ft

Alaska, Day 6 -- jaunt into town

I originally was going to write a blog post for every day I spent in Alaska last August but... well, I mean, it's already January, and I've only got 4/10 days posted, so I really doubt that's going to happen. I do have a couple more written up that I never ended up posting, though, so I'm going to go ahead and post what I have. I'll just have to make another trip at some point for more material.

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22 August 2017

Tuesday

Today I decide to take dad's mountain bike into town. My primary goal for this excursion is to make it to Blaire's Art Supply Store to get some fixative spray for the watercolor of Sourdough Mountain that I promised to Grandmother. Most of the dirt I rubbed into it while painting has come off by now, but I'm gonna try to save what's left of it with the spray. Grandmother slips me a little cash, as I head into the garage, to help me buy it. She didn't need to do that, but I accept it gratefully nonetheless.

I have to cobble together supplies from what I can find in the garage--I end up using bungee cords to strap a day-pack to the bike's rear rack, and filling an empty Dr. Pepper bottle with water for the trip. I spend a lot of the morning searching (in vain) for a tire pump. While gathering supplies, I keep going back into the house to look at the google maps directions again, in an attempt to memorize them before leaving the safety of GPS behind. Finally loaded up with raincoat, bike lock, notebook, pen, wallet, compass, a letter and a postcard I want to mail to friends back home, the aforementioned water bottle, printed google maps directions, two mandarin oranges, two boiled eggs, and two of those squeezy pouches of fruit and yogurt that I like to carry around when cycling, I head off.

First I try to patronize a bike shop google said was down the street--but though I find what I think is the shop, I can't find an entry door. I give up and head to a gas station instead to fill the tires there as best I can, lucky that the tubes happen to use schrader valves.

I know I'm supposed to turn onto Old Seward Highway, but I forget if it was a right or a left. Good thing I looked at the map a few times before I headed out, so I know that town is north of me. I use my compass to pick the correct direction. In Denver, the mountains on the horizon are always to the west--it is difficult to orient myself here, where going west takes one toward the sea.

I start out cycling in the road. I am used to Colorado, where riding on the sidewalk is not only dangerous, but illegal. People keep passing too close and honking at me here, even though I am as far right as possible. Eventually I give up and move onto the sidewalk. The sidewalks are paved with the same material as the roads; they seem to seamlessly transition from sidewalk to off-road multi-use path and back to sidewalk again. Riding on them is not so bad, even though crossing driveways and side-streets always makes me nervous. Anchorage is much more spread out than other places, though, so there is more distance between crossings, which makes it a little less obnoxious having to stop and yield at each one.

I blast past my first turn, of course. I've left my glasses at home, in favor of using sunglasses, so it takes me a little more effort to read street signs. I'm something like 40 blocks past the turn I needed when I realize the street numbers are decreasing and not increasing. I turn around and start to backtrack to correct the mistake, but decide that I don't really want to go that much farther out of my way if I can help it. Instead, I take an exploratory ramble through some side streets until I find a way to C street, then head north from there. After that it is a pleasant jaunt through lush, wet, forested parks and past quiet industrial areas and hotels until I reach my next turns, which I do not miss...!

The art store is cute, and has a cafe inside. I take a look around everything first, finding myself as tempted as usual when browsing this kind of place. I do pick up a field watercolor journal for future en plein air endeavors, but am able to talk myself out of buying a plethora of things I don't actually need. I find the fixatives and pick out a workable matte spray--partially because it specifically lists "watercolor" in its usage instructions, partially because it is small (I don't need a lot), but mostly because the brand name is my family's name, and I find this amusing. I then ask the barista for directions to a post office while she's ringing up my purchases. She gives me some convoluted directions to a place about 3 miles away that she'd looked up on google maps. I take the address she writes down for me, but when I head out I think I see a UPS store in the distance, so I wander on foot for a block or two, hoping to find some place that sells stamps and a blue post office box without having to go too much farther into town.

I try to reach the UPS store I saw, but after detouring around a construction site and a long gray building, I come across a Carr's, so I go in there to get a book of stamps and an additional snack. I ask them where the nearest post office is, and they point me to one right across the street--no more than two or three blocks from the art supply store. Not sure how google maps missed that one.

After mailing my cards, I drop into a bookstore called Title Wave, which I find on the other side of the long gray building. I wander the shelves, trying to find whatever I'm in the mood for today. Since I don't have my glasses on, I need to be a little more deliberate than usual--browsing for too long would give me a massive headache. I ultimately decide on poetry. When the poetry section yields nothing new or interesting, I wander over to the Alaska-specific section. One of the books I crack open here falls immediately open to a poem about Kennecott, and I think, well, this might be some kind of sign--but the poem itself turns out to be awful. The rhyme is forced and trite, the meter terrible--I can't stomach more than a few lines of it. The other poems in that book are equally horrid. I put it back and peruse a few trailside chapbooks before finally settling on an anthology called Alaskan Art & Writing, copyright August 1981, number 21/22 of the quarterly Northward Journal. It's a poem called "Splitting Wood" by Ann Chandonnet that sells it to me: page 55. I like most of what I read therein and pick it up for $4.95 (no sales tax?) and head back home.

The ride back home is much nicer--more off-road path, less curbside sidewalk. I don't miss my turn onto 104th this time. It is small--barely an alley over some train tracks--so I understand why I missed it the first time. After I pass the gas station where I fill my tires, though, I get lost... can't find the turn into the right neighborhood. I go back and forth over a decently steep hill before I finally have to call dad and get directions. Turns out I'd been second-guessing myself too much after my other mishaps of the day--I couldn't find the turn because I wasn't going far enough down the road. But wandering through neighborhood streets and climbing and re-climbing the hill is more exercise, which I really needed, and it feels good, though I'm getting hungry. When I finally make it home safe, there is spicy sausage and cabbage to eat, and all my errands have been done. All in all a successful day.

epilogue/bike review

Dad picked up the mountain bike for about $100, and it shows, though my complaints are not too bad: handlebars need adjustment, chain needs grease, gears need adjustment, too. Well, and the saddle is awfully uncomfortable, but that's more of a personal preference thing--I found the perfect saddle for me in Dublin years and years ago, and haven't found a better one since. I'm glad I only rode about 20 miles today; I'm too spoiled to the comfort of my Surly Long Haul Trucker, Bike Rothar. I'm not sure I would've enjoyed much more than that.

road raaaaage ~

Taxi. drivers. are. the. worst.

Today I cycled up to someone's house so that I could buy some legit panniers from her--found 'em on the Irish craigslist (gumtree.ie). The panniers are epic: grey paisley design, little lizard logo decals, tons of pockets, waterproofing, and a plastic "skeleton" so the pockets keep their shape when empty. They were 100 euro in Germany when new, and are still basically new but I got them for 40. A steal, and they're so cuuuuuuuuuute ~ plus the lady I bought them from was really sweet, talked to me for a long time. Apparently the panniers belonged to her sister who moved to America. With these, I'm definitely not going to lose anything off the side of my bike--no sir. I will have to take them off the bike whenever I park and shop or whatever, and they are awkward to carry, but I'll devise a system. For what they are, it's more worth it to me to have the drawbacks and the benefits than no benefits at all. Plus, I'm planning on taking them back to the states with me, whereas if I just got a basket or something it wouldn't be worth returning with.

long tangent aside... I was cycling up Drumcondra Road/Swords Road/the N1, and most of it doesn't have cycle lanes, so I was on the left-hand side of bus lanes. Taxi after taxi would pass me INSIDE the lane--so close it was scary. So I moved to the middle and took the entire lane for myself, since cyclists are allowed to use bus lanes. Taxis would still try to get in-between me and the cars in the next lane if they could. One taxi even honked at me in traffic for having the nerve to be a cyclist on the road--and the funny thing is, he honked at me but I was travelling the SAME SPEED as the car ahead of me, since traffic was thick and slow at that point. I turned around and pointed to the car ahead of me so the guy could see it was RIGHT THERE. Sheesh, people.

I don't mind if they pass me when I'm on the left,  as long as they give me about half the lane to exist in. But some drivers would give me less than a foot of space. That's not safe. I'm happy to get out of their way whenever possible, but if they insist on being assholes I will do what it takes to be safe--which involves taking a lane for myself, in the absence of cycle lanes (or when the cycle lanes are a joke, covered in parked cars or buses that start and stop every ten feet, forcing you to turn left when you wanna go straight or straight when you wanna turn right, randomly appearing and disappearing, covered in broken glass or potholes, etc.).

anyway. I LOVE the panniers. They are my payday treat, along with a pair of synthetic trouser underlayers since I ripped a hole in my other pair when I took a spill the other day. I mean, I can still use the ones with a hole (and probably will), but they're ones my dad gave me so they bag and sag and it's nice to have a pair now that fit against my skin and don't have a penis hole in them.

Yeah, payday... My first paycheck of my SALARY. I am a salaried office worker now. Wtf? Does that mean I'm a grownup? I lost my heels and suitjacket when I lost my purse, but still. I have a work email address. I am an office administrator who fills in spreadsheets and emails people all day. And does endless sums. MATHS ARGH.


Can't wait for the first leisurecycling.ie training meet in the end of January...

pax

first rothar accident

yay so I had my first bicycle accident today! (worst outcome: skinned knee)

I was cycling up past Finglas toward Belfast (i.e. north) because there's a pretty decent hill thataway and I'm wanting to train myself up for cycling in Wicklow and other hillier areas of Ireland. And the only way to get better at going up hills is to go up hills regularly.

Anyway, I got to a flat place and was just aimlessly cycling in a straight line, since I like to cycle out from my house for about an hour then turn around and come home. (I think I did 20+ km today but I didn't find a proper landmark in order to look it up and know for sure).

Then there were huge rocks on the side of the road that I didn't see. Rothar hit one, and careened into the kerb. I can report that the accident legitimately happened in slow motion. I was just like, "oh shit!" and watched Rothar flip out and the kerb come up to meet me. An impartial observer also affirmed that it happened in slow motion. After I fell, then scraped myself off the road onto the (pedestrian) pavement, a dude came out of his car to see if I was okay and offered me a ride somewhere if I wasn't. But I was okay. All I could see was a hole in my thermal trouser base layer (it is underneath my cycle shorts and a knee-high sock, so it's the only layer over my knee) and a tiny bit of blood. Rothar was fine except one of the brake handles and the gear handles got twisted to a new spot.

The knee is now covered in blood that has soaked into the trousers and the top of my sock. I'll see the extent of the damage when I shower, but it feels like just a surface wound.

I feel nice 'n' sore from the ride. It was a good one. I had, like, three different instances of "cyclist's high" on it. Next week I won't get out much because I have to work evenings in LUSH every day coming up to Christmas.

In other news, I joined the leisurecycling.ie cycling club and ordered their jersey and cycling bib shorts as well. So I can look like a legit cyclist and all. They'll be having training sessions for the Wicklow 200 about once a month or so till June, as well as joining other cycling events, like for charity and stuff, around Ireland. It'll be cool to meet and hang out with Irish cyclists, and have company and sort of guided trips out into Irish countryside.

also I won't be alone for Christmas! a friend and I are planning dinner! I'm so excited! plus Church in the morning, of course, and all my friends there :)



my camera is lost and/or stolen, so no more new pictures, but after Christmas and busyness is gone I can start to post the ones I did get to take before the camera vanished. stay tuned? idk.

pax

p.s. -- for the curious, "rothar" is pronounced kinda like "ruh-hurr"

I hate myself so effing much right now

Halfway home today, I check on the bag that is on the back of my bike and it is gone.

It is a black mary kay bag made out of cloth. Inside it was a pair of nice shoes from Marks and Spencer, my suitjacket, my grey fleece vest with the broken zip, and the denim purse that my sister hand-made for me out of overalls.

Inside the purse was my American Passport, my sony camera and two memory cards/batteries w/ a swiss army carrying case, three USB keys with varying amounts of data on them (things like backups of my art, backups of my IDs and passport, which is stupid; why did I keep them in the same place?! fuck), a map of Dublin and some other paperwork including a jotter pad with all my to-do lists on it--AND a few passwords and bank details written down (but not enough to be used, I don't think), pens, pencils, erasers, and my wallet.

Inside my wallet was my Texas drivers' license, my GNIB card (which, iirc, costs 250 euro to replace), my two American credit cards, my Irish debit card, my membership cards to various shops, my glasses cleaning cloth, my library card, my proof of insurance card, a few notes and people's business cards. There was no paper cash in it, but probably five to ten euro worth of coins in the zipper pocket.

I don't know if the bag fell off the bike or if it was swiped off the bike when I was stopped at lights. I reported it to the guardai and they gave me a form that said it was a loss. They have my phone number and address, along with a description of the items inside, so if anybody turns it in, the bag will find me again.

I have a feeling that if the bag turns up, then it fell off the bike. If it never turns up, it was probably stolen from the bike.

All this happened because I was too lazy to tie the handles of the bag into a real knot. "oh, it's never fallen off before, and I'm just going home, which isn't far." I'm a fucking idiot and I hate myself for being too lazy to tie a fucking double knot in order to protect all my shit on my way home. The bike has a little spring-clasp thing which is all I used.

I don't care about most of the stuff, but the purse my sister made me? hell yes. My fucking CAMERA? Also I don't have 250 euro to buy another fucking GNIB card without dipping into my savings. I also want the data on those USB keys, and my PASSPORT. On top of all this, I was planning on going grocery shopping today but I have no access to any of my money because my cards are all gone (I'm about to cancel the American ones; I'll cancel the Irish one tomorrow. it requires a PIN to use tho so I'm not too worried about it). Which means the only food I can pick from is lentils, brussels sprouts, white rice, and protein powder.

Thank God my keys and my cell phone were in my pockets. And that my bicycle was under my ass. I am really tempted to hurt myself right now in order to "punish" myself for being so stupid.

Today was a really bad day. I woke up two hours later than normal, which meant I had ten minutes to get ready for work and I was STILL gonna be late. I skipped breakfast, hoofed it, and then got pulled over by a guard for running a red light (it was only for pedestrians and none were coming and I was running late). He took my ID then gave me a stern warning. Work was really nice about it--the working hours are flexible anyway--but all I had to eat was a nut'n'puffed rice bar and a cup of tea. then later I hit myself in the face with the bathroom door and put a permanent scratch on the left lens of my glasses, right in the middle where it can interfere with my vision if I look at it wrong.

I cried so much in public today, and I HATE doing that.

Please pray that my bag really did just fall off, and that whoever saw it fall is a decent human being who will turn it in to the guards. Please, God, let my faith in humanity be affirmed or restored.

What do I do? How long should I wait before I start replacing the things that I lost? And how can I even DO that without access to my money?

rothar related

...couldn't take another day of freezing cold fingertips, so I just bought me summa these -- lobster gloves. I like the look of them; now I can feel like Ludo from the Labyrinth. Didn't get the huge-ass bulky ones because it doesn't really go below 0 degrees C here, not really. I still need some good liners, tho. I admit the sailing gloves were an impulse buy; they were just SO COOL! But they make a better fall/spring cycling glove, or better yet a gardening glove. Or, you know, a sailing glove...

You can't have too many gloves, base layers, or socks, imho.

Some pictures of rothar for y'all's enjoyment.

suicide gears (little levers in the centre)

the man himself! plus the superduper 40 euro lock I got for him.

those are my keys hanging above him in the bike shed door. Skeleton keys for everything except my flat door and the little computer chip beeper thing for NTI.

I promise to go to the library and upload more pictures sometime soon! This is all my internet can handle for now.

pax.

Christmas wishlist and randomness

Jam's Christmas wishlist:

1) Letters and cards from people! Send me a quick email or note on facebook and I will reply with my Irish address. I have a list of people to whom I'm already sending postcards; but, even if you're not on that list, I promise that if you do send me a card or a letter, I will reciprocate with an Irish postcard chosen specifically for you :3. I'm having a terrible time remembering who all I should send a note to, plus I don't have everyone's addresses! So either send me a card w/ a return address on it, or note me your address if you want one!

aaaaand... that's pretty much it. I already have acquired too much "stuff" since coming here and am feeling, after only three months, a terrible urge to whittle my posessions down to the bare essentials again. Except that all I have IS the bare essentials...! There's nothing I can think of in my house that I don't use regularly except perhaps a couple pairs of shoes (which are summer shoes anyhow).

If anyone did want to give me some kind of object for Christmas, here are things that I need and would use. (I am mostly posting this because I know my parents read this blog. Just fyi.)

a) Cute woolen or synthetic socks, both normal pairs and knee-highs (for cycling!). The more colourful and brilliant the design, the better. NO COTTON or hemp, as I'm phasing out those socks at the moment in favour of wool for cold weather and thin synthetics for warm weather. My feet are pretty small...

b) Silk or synthetic glove liners. Thin is best. Water resistant is a bonus. My hands are usually small, extra small, or junior sized (in fact, I bought some sailing gloves for cycling and bought extra-small instead of junior so I could fit liners under them...)

c) Cute handkerchiefs with fun designs or colours on them! To be used for my cold, runny nose, and the other wonderful things handkerchiefs can be used for. They're something I would use constantly, but for some reason refuse to buy for myself.


That's about it, unless something cycling-related came my way somehow. (like a bell or toe clips or something small?)



In other news... Jam! What did you do yesterday?!

I... I cycled to Blanchardstown shopping centre...

And??

went to all the sports stores...

AND?

spent 25 euros on a merino underlayer TT_TT

Which means! You spent ALL YOUR TAX BACK ON SPORTS STUFF. (waterproof shell jacket, two underlayers, sailing gloves, bike shorts)

But the merino was HALF PRICE! How often does that happen?



It is good though, because now I have two thermal longsleeve underlayers (one merino, one synthetic) and two all-weather shortsleeve underlayers (one merino, one synthetic). I was actually looking for glove liners, but I haven't found anything I like, and I don't want to buy big bulky snow gloves. I just want something to put under my sailing gloves to make 'em warmer. Everything I'm finding, tho, is either WAY TOO BIG for my tiny child's hands, or not what I'm looking for, or much too expensive. For now I use my wool wristwarmers and let my fingertips just, be cold.

but I know no one wants to hear about my strange shopping addictions! I will leave you with one final thought.

You never feel your mortality more vividly than when passed, on both sides, by double-decker Dublin buses leaving just a tiny little corridor for you to exist in.


pax.

addendum

just a little addition to my last post...


1) I didn't even learn how to ride a bicycle until I was 10 years old. I never got the hang of the balancing part, so once I got too big for training wheels I gave up on it. By the time I was 10 my sister couldn't stand it anymore so she dragged me up hills and made me ride down them till I fell. Then came the magical moment when I didn't fall. I rode all day until I was stiff as a board. Today I rode until my calves started to cramp.

2) I am pretty sure that the blinking lights I bought for my bike have already saved my life. Probably more than once.







on a very unrelated note:

D. F. -- Rest in peace, and memory eternal.

bits and bobs

bits

Would you believe that I've been living in Ireland for almost three months and I only just now bought a waterproof jacket?

Yeah...

Well, I got my tax back today, which I wasn't expecting and which essentially doubled this week's paycheck. So I bought stuff.

First thing I did was eat a huge meal at Cornucopia, which is the only restaurant in Dublin that I will actually get food from--and it's SO GOOD! They cater amazingly well to food allergy people, and every dish and combination there is pure imagination. I got a fruit salad to take home, then ate a pear, hazelnut, and vinegar salad along with a huge serving of spicy vegetables/chickpeas over rice. Then I went to a little market next door and got the first of my Christmas presents for people! (besides postcards, which I've slowly been collecting.)

After that I went to an outdoorsy store called Port West, which I'm pretty sure originated in Ireland. Everything was on sale to some degree. I got a purple waterproof shell jacket (30 euro), a short-sleeve underlayer for cycling (25 euro), and a pair of bike shorts with the pads in 'em for bony arses like mine (15 euro). I was like a kid in a candy store at that place. Even tho 70 euro is a lot to spend on, like, three things, I've seen padded bike shorts on sale for 50-70 euro in bike shops, underlayers on sale for 40-50 euro each in other outdoorsy stores, and similar jackets for twice as much. I'm very pleased.

Then I went to the Catholic bookstore everythingstore Veritas and got me some advent candles. I only have a single candle stand, tho, so I'll have to burn them one at a time, rather than all at once. But that's okay; I'll just make sure I use the right colours in the right weeks, and if I still have purple candles left over after Christmas I can save them until Lent.

Also, I started buying meats at Irish butcher shops, and I can't believe I was wasting money on Tesco meat... shopping at Tesco is basically like shopping at Wal-Mart in the States, it's propping up a huge industrial machine that is slowly eating up small businesses, and supports the UK economy much more than the Irish one. I tho't the meat there was extra cheap so I was buying it, but man... I got a huge ham hock today for 3 euro--I swear it weighs like five pounds--and the other day I got three lambs' livers for a quid and a half. I can also get half a trout at the fish stop on Phibsborough road for 3 euro, which makes 2.5 meals with rice.

I'm gonna make a cabbage and ham stew with bean sprouts and chunks of rutabaga. I should probably simmer my stock tonight and make it in the morning. I won't be hungry again after all that food in Cornucopia... *clutches stomach*


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bobs

My two new hobbies: cycling and collecting churches. By "collecting churches" I mean taking pictures of as many as I can. A lot of the churches in Ireland are open to the public during the day, all week, so I take pictures of the outsides and then the insides if I can. There is so much amazing architecture  here, it blows my mind... so many gorgeous Catholic churches... too bad the corruption of the clergy here has had to mar it and empty so many of them out. I like to pray in the empty buildings, but I don't go to Mass in them anymore. It's unfortunate, but the Masses tend to be very shallow and ill-suited to the majestic buildings they inhabit... I prefer to pray and imagine in peace.

I don't only take pictures of Catholic churches, of course. Any churches that catch my eye as being particularly interesting or pretty.

As for cycling... I feel more alive than I have in forever. I'm shite at riding up hills, but I'm getting better. I love my suicide gears and my hybrid frame and wheels. I bought some blinking lights for riding at night, too--red for the rear, white for the front. Apparently the blinking helps cars gauge how fast you're coming at 'em. I didn't know that before.

that's all for now. thanks fer readin'.

pax.

rothar -- my new best friend

I just got my bike from the nonprofit recycle bike place today. It is a blue ladies' hybrid, most parts recycled, a tad rusty but in perfect working condition. It has suicide gears, which I am new to but already love. I am the happiest person right now.

I named him Rothar, which is the name of the bike shop and basically means bicycle in Irish (pronounced ˈrohər according to wiktionary, but I just say "rahthar" 'cause I'm a dumb American). 

He's a very good bike. I bought a 45 euro lock for him, already have a helmet, and just got a high-visibility vest from this abandoned plant that I found a few weeks ago (funnily enough, I got the vest with permission from the guy who is only just now letting the property... I first found it whilst trespassing, haha. Didn't tell him that, tho. And he invited me back to their grand opening night on Dec 1st!). The vest is in the wash right now. Used to belong to a construction worker. Might be decades old... no way of telling.

I just rode to work and back, trying to get a feel for the route, and even while getting lost a few times (having to follow the flow of traffic, with all its one-way streets, rather than footpaths), I did about 8-10 km in the hour that it normally takes me to walk 4.5-5 km. I'm SO ready to start riding this bike 10+ km a day on top of my work commute. Dublin traffic may kill me, but there's a lot of cyclists and we're travelling pretty much the same speeds as the cars in most cases, traffic is so slow. Bike lanes in Dublin are a joke unless you're travelling in a straight line beside a waterway (the Liffey or one of the canals). I'm getting used to being on the left side of the road, too. And dodging buses. Taxis are worse than buses, but buses are SO BIG.

Yes, Mama, I always wear my helmet, and always will. (NOTE FROM 2013: actually I stopped wearing my helmet in Dublin traffic a few months after this post, haha)

--

I've been having a lot of digestive issues lately, due to coeliac or damage from coeliac. Basically my chest has been aching like I got shot with a shotgun for a week or so, my acid reflux is so bad. I was so worried for a while there that I'd have to go back to the States to get hiatal hernia surgery. Well, I don't care if my stomach literally catches fire, you're not taking me away from Dublin and Ireland and my Rothar until my year is friggin' up.

Luckily, taking digestive enzymes with betaine HCl seems to be helping me out, as does laying off fats, which I don't think I'm digesting properly. I think I may have low stomach acid--hypochloridia. I've been talking to other coeliacs online and it seems to be common among us, along with a lazy pancreas that doesn't produce enough digestive enzymes. I just got super-duper enzymes with 600 mg HCl and 90 mg ox bile, so I will try those with some full meals tomorrow and see if they help or not. I've also been taking slippery elm bark, which is a wonderful supplement that coats the throat, stomach, and intestines to soothe inflammation. Taking it is basically drinking slime, but you do what you have to, ya know? I do plan on seeing a doctor eventually but I want to find the right one, given that I'll be paying 50-75 euro for the privilege. I don't want one that will just prescribe nexium et al. after a five minute conversation, because I tried taking over-the-counter ppi pantoprazole and it seemed to make things worse. Like, my stomach stopped emptying out after meals and I stopped getting hungry at all. I only made it about six days into the 14-day course of it.

But I still can't eat normal portion sizes, and since I have to lay off calorie-dense foods like nuts and seeds because of the high fat content, I got myself some hemp protein powder to mix into things in order to build myself some good biking muscles. I will also start eating a lot more fish and lean meats. I'm not sure how well I tolerate eggs. And I def. can't eat dairy, like butter and ice cream and stuff, or any candies or anything. Hopefully finding the right dosage of HCl will allow me more fats etc. so that I can build my body back up! 

I want to be strong and active, not weak and pale, sitting on my ass in an office all day. That's why I've been walking to work instead of taking the bus. Now I can go so many places. In a few weeks I will attempt to bike to Howth lighthouse--about a 20 km journey one way.

yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaahh!

wheels

Just paid a 50 euro deposit at Rothar for a hybrid/road bike they are going to rebuild for me. Frame is rusty and old but the rest of it will be fine and in working order. Cost: 165 euro, plus a 45 euro lock to keep it from getting stolen--total of 210 euro.

Pricey, for me. but you know what? I want a bike, and I want a decent bike for the first time in my life, rather than a stupid cheap wal*mart mountain bike or a 1-speed cruiser that I have to walk up hills. I could wait indefinitely for someone to sell a decent bike on gumtree (Irish craigslist) for cheap, or I can support a cool nonprofit bike shop in town and have a bike in 10 days. A bike that I know works and has a month of guaranteed servicing on it.

I've decided that I'm going to start biking out into greater Dublin on a regular basis, especially out to the sea. And I may take the bike on the bus eirann (for a little extra fee) so that I can explore other parts of Ireland on my bike as well. More of the country will be accessible to me this way, and it means less time spent walking from site to site if I take a day/weekend trip out anywhere.

Besides, as far as my health goes, the only time I truly and remarkably feel WELL is when I'm out walking. I don't feel the fatigue and headaches that settle in when I'm sitting still. So I walk for hours. Why not ride for hours and see more of the city and the country while I am at it?

I'm going to work myself up to a 17 km ride out to Howth light house. Then, who knows.

Next order of business is to buy a helmet, which I can get in a bike shop on parnell street, he said. Then a high-visibility vest (I know where I can get one for free).

I'm kinda excited now. Next Thursday I'll call them back ~



(plus, this is all gonna be paid for just from my paychecks since I got here. I haven't been able to rebuild my savings yet, but I haven't been spending from my savings since I got my first paycheck--except for medical supplements from time to time.)