Yard work is getting better...

During the only dry day we seem to have had in months, I had a few hours to complete a dreaded task, or at least a task I procrastinate over quite often. I had to mow the yard. Now, this was made more difficult by the lack of gasoline in the garage and my lack of sleep the night before. Concerts are great, but they kill you for the next day's activities.

I gathered the minuscule one gallon cans together, made the trip to the gas station, and I got what I needed to get the jungle that was once a nice yard under control. Grumbling to myself about having to do this and how expensive hiring someone to do it would be, I grudgingly trudged around the front yard for a lap or two while pushing the noisy and smelly mower. Grrr...

Then something great happened.

Bryce wandered out and asked to help. Looking around to see where the hidden cameras were, since this must be some to-good-to-be-true joke. I warily said, "Sure." I had helped him push the mower around in the past when he was much smaller, but now NOW was the real chance, and I took it! I showed him where the powered wheel lever was, and I went through the instructions about how to kill the engine if anything seemed out of control. Not that much gets out of control at walking speed, but hey, it's better safe than sorry, and I really didn't want to mow.

Bryce was beaming because he realized that I wasn't going to hold the mower with him but was going to actually let him take the reins and do it himself. I was thinking about how this is exactly how Granddad would have done it. He wouldn't worry about missed spots or taking too long and wasting a little more gas to go back and touch up. It was a chance for my oldest to do something that older kids and grumbling adults do. I told him what I wanted him to do and how best to get the job done, and I went and sat down on the front steps to watch him have at it. I certainly wasn't going to totally leave him, but he didn't need me to help. Up and back he went and he really did a great job. It's easy to forget how he isn't a "little boy" anymore even though I see him daily.





In the end, he learned something, we had a great father/son hour or so, and...

I got out of mowing the yard...

This is the obligatory shot of Ansley while Bryce was mowing...

I'm wondering when she may pick up the mantle of yard work as well? What do you think my chances of that are??? :)

You Bought a What?

Yep, I finally did it, and I didn't have to make up some story for my wife about how it followed me home! Can I keep it??? Not to say that I wouldn't if it came to that...

After putting money away for a couple of years to finance my laughably early mid-life crisis, I bumped up my life insurance and bought a motorcycle. I haven't owned a bike in over 10 years, but the time seemed right and I was really looking for something that didn't involve pedaling so much. I needed some sort of change, and what's better than deciding to get something that can be equated to an instant roller-coaster ride without a Disney-esque line to wait in?

It's a Suzuki VStrom DL 1000, and I have driven it quite a bit and covered the distance from Atlanta to Birmingham on it's inaugural ride. It feels great and handles like a dream on the mountain roads too. I have some plans in the works to equip it with some hard luggage and take it out to Texas to ride with my Dad before it gets too cold. Well, cold for a southerner, so if you're from Michigan or some other similarly permafrosted locale, I don't want to hear it. A 45-50 degree winter day IS cold...end of discussion. If you think those temperatures are fine warm riding conditions, you can keep them for all I care.

I laughed when I thought, "Now my garage is complete." I have all the two wheeled entertainment than I can hold in there, and if it will stop stinking raining, I'll get more chances to use my toys! (Note that I didn't say "all the two wheeled entertainment that I need..." There's always a "need" for some other kind of mountain bike or something...)

I woke this morning to yet another line of storms that dumped a few more inches on the saturated southeast, and the news had bright red warnings about "Flash Floods". For all the media hubub about it, they may as well have put out a PSA about how we all need to wear those arm floaty things just to survive the day...

Six Gap 2009

As an annual tradition, when I don't have a broken bone of some sort, I took on the challenge of Six Gap again this year, and the ride started off like it has for the past 4 years in a row. In a rush... I swear, I tell myself, somewhat belatedly, that I will never get there at the last minute again every year, and every year I have a repeat performance of just barely making it for the start.

There must have been a record group of riders this year because the parking lot was closed out about 45 minutes before the start. I then had to drive around in the dark, find a place to park my car without it sliding into a ditch, get all my junk out of the car, and then ride off to the start line, ride back to get my helmet, ride off to the start line, ride back to get my gloves, etc...

With the amazing number of riders I decided to just cut in line and start with the first 100 or so riders. The fast riders. The riders that would proceed to hammer for the next 5+ hours and finish the ride with smiles and energy left in the tank. I knew that I wouldn't hang with them, but with the crashes of this year, it was safer to ride at their back in order to avoid the 2,000 other people that I would end up passing during the first miles and the climb up Neels Gap.

Riding with the real "horses" of the group was pretty fun, and we covered the first 20 miles in under an hour. It's a pace that I never dreamed possible on the Six Gap ride. Climbing the first hill was as fun as it was getting there. I was feeling pretty good, and I was happy since I have had such minimal and interrupted training this year. I basically trained for the ride with 9 weeks of watching Heros in my basement for 6 hours a week and then riding 75 miles on Saturday mornings.

Then, as in every year, the ride did something strange. Sometimes it's rain, sometimes it's cold and windy, sometimes, you have really really annoying mechanical issues. I would have traded for the rain. Honestly... One part of my bike that I apparently hadn't tested or even noticed over the past few thousand miles I had spent riding decided that it was time I noticed. As of mile 25 of 104 miles, my left pedal bearings began to fail. At first it was just a little squeak...cute really...like having a sweet little bird nearby... I knew, when this foolish "glass is half full" thought went through my head that the chirp wasn't going to be cute after listening to it for 5 more hours.

It only took about 20 minutes before the chirp became a more pronounced, and angrier sounding, Squeeerrrrk every time I turned over the cranks... I stopped at the first aid station and desperately searched for someone with some grease to spray into the pedal. It didn't work. In fact, it may have made the disgruntled bearings...uh...disgruntleder? After listening to the sound for about an hour, I had to turn up my iPod and try to drown it out. As the miles and hours went on, I felt good, but my pedal didn't. It was finding a way to resonate through the carbon frame of the bike and amplify itself. I swear I could feel it in my hands with each turn of the pedal. People I passed would ask, "Is that you?" I felt like replying, "My bionic knees need oil. Otherwise I would be passing you." Well, I felt like saying all sorts of stuff, but nothing funny came to mind until well after the moment had passed, so I just squeek-squawked on...

The foggy morning gave break to a beautiful day, which was great considering how the evening had gone. Here is a shot of the storms that were rolling through from evening to the early hours of the morning.

And a shot of the following morning from the top of Hogpen Gap.

Thank goodness, I didn't have torrential downpours coupled with the wounded moose that had taken up residence in my pedal. Ah, see my negative view of things does have a shiny moment every so often...

The hogpen climb, where I discovered last year that "not training" is not the same as "tapering" prior to a endurance event, went by and I felt pretty strong. I know I was moving more slowly up the climb than I have in years past, but it wasn't bad. I stopped for some cookies at the top and bombed down the descent at over 50 miles an hour. Descending is so much fun on a road bike. You can travel faster through the turns and switchbacks than most any other vehicle on the planet, and I didn't get hung up behind a single car so I could really let it go and enjoy the ride.

I was feeling good and then I saw the devil...and she is way more attractive than the Sasquatch I saw last year. Now that I look at the picture, it is apparent that the devil doesn't need to touch the ground when heckling riders. Unfortunately, the sighting was a harbinger of the miles to come.

After a while I did wear out, and that coupled with the pedal that now had decided to make it's presence apparent to everyone in a 50 mile radius made for a very difficult, and decidedly un-fun finish to the ride. The pedal had changed from squeek, to Squaaaarrrrk, to SQUUUUAAAAAAAARRRRRK!!, to a YYYYEEEEAAAAAWWWWWRRRRK! that echoed off the mountain sides and couldn't possibly be drowned out by my iPod without serious hearing damage. Other riders would just shake their heads at my caterwauling equipment and ride on by or make a point of going much slower in order to get away from me. I just kept my head down and pedaled my demoralized body ever closer to the finish line. There was a song on my iPod at one point by Modest Mouse. "The Good Times are Killing Me." Yeah, that is as apropos a tune as I could come up with at that moment.

The final miles of the ride are a hideous collection of rolling hills that brought me, as they had last year, to a pace that would rival most snails for speed just to top them. Over and over I climbed as fast as my legs could go, which was slower with each successive hill but finally I found the finish. I had decided at one point that I was having no fun. I had not really had fun for over 2 hours and I was telling myself that this was my last Six Gap ride and I just needed to finish. I was so disgusted with the broken pedal and my overtaxed and under trained legs that I left the bike in a disassembled pile in the back of my truck for a week, but during the course of that week something happened.

I forgot something. I forgot how much of a painful experience it had been. I forgot that I didn't have fun, and I found something too. I found a magic number. 3. That was the number of days it took for me to decide to do it again next year, and I am already thinking, "I'm sure I'll be faster..."

I know now how women decide to have a second child. Time has a great way of washing away the awful bits of some experiences and leaving only the good.

But, I'll be darned sure to replace my pedals before I go again

Noccalula Falls

Last weekend we took a road trip up to Noccalula falls outside of Gadsden, Alabama. It was one of those semi-cool and invigorating days where you finally notice that the humidity isn't the standard 105% and the temperature is finally slightly cooler than the surface of the sun. Those latter two weather attributes tend to describe most days (and some nights) during the Alabama summer.

We sat down to get a family picture while waiting for the train to tote us around the park for a quick sight seeing tour. Since I couldn't find a fence post or railing to get a true family picture, here is the best one I could get, with me safely behind the camera...out of sight.

Doesn't Bryce look enthused... What is it about 7 year old boys that make them unable to smile naturally? I see it everywhere...

Aiden loves the trains and was thrilled to pile in with his siblings. The giggling and wiggling crew of kids and the already tired parents took the train all around the park. Then we got off at the stop nearest to the little zoo which seemed a good place to start. While the kids looked at the animals, and we hurriedly chased the kids, I realized that they were using an advanced "divide and conquer" strategy against us. I wonder if they get together and write out plays on a big dry erase board in their rooms before we take them on trips like this. Someday I know I'm gonna find a board under the bed with tons of X's and O's with dotted lines around an amazingly accurate depiction of the park.

During this period of chasing them and yelling, "Stop! Don't touch that!" or "Eeeew...Don't put that in your mouth!" this children's "Learn to Read" story popped into my head. I think it's better than "See Spot Run" for sure...

Ahem.

Aiden was a boy.

He liked to run.

Aiden ran a lot.

He ran from a rooster.

He ran from a floppy lama. (and another chicken)

He ran from an Emu.

(I'm seeing a pattern here...running from birds? There has to be some rare ornithological complex that I can find to explain the behavior)

But, Aiden didn't run from the bunnies!

The End...

In fact we had to keep him from climbing in and joining the bunnies...

Yeah, I know I promised not to write any more children's stories after Squiddy, but I couldn't help myself.

While Aiden busied himself with running from all the pseudo-wildlife and birds, he fell and got the second large bruise on his forehead of the week. I'm sure that family services will be visiting our house soon.

Before the kids were completely worn out, Brenna and I decided to go and see the falls, so we bribed them with food and started off. We hiked down the trail and through the canyon to reach the waterfall. The canyon was filled with enormous boulders and old oak and poplar trees reached up the 30-40 foot cliffs on either side of the river. The river was fed by the pool at the base of the falls and looked very inviting even though the warning signs were posted about not swimming. We haven't had much rain in the past week, so the flow over the falls wasn't all that impressive, but it made quite a roar against the overhanging rock ledge as we walked. There was a recessed rock shelter behind the falls where we sat and ate lunch.

I used a timed exposure to make the water look like it had some movement to it rather than freezing it in time with the standard automatic settings on the camera. If you click on the image, it will expand to a much larger size.

My last image here is pretty random, but we all stopped to look at the colors. I had no idea that peppers came in that many hues.

I wonder if they were hot? I should have surreptitiously picked one. Oooooh...what a rebel.

New Pets!

I came home yesterday to a very excited couple of kids, meaning Bryce and Ansley. Aiden is always happy and excited, but we're not sure what its about most of the time. They had a surprise for me and had covered it with a hat so I couldn't see. When it was time for dinner, they told me to close my eyes, which didn't really matter since they had covered the surprise with a hat and my X-ray vision isn't working well these days. They whipped the hat off this unknown object with much fanfare I'm told since I had my eyes closed during the event. I then opened my eyes and found out, that we have two new pets. Small pets. Small swimming pets. With legs.



Water Frogs!



I'm sure there is some story of, "Hey Mom! Look what followed me home...in this plastic cube filled with rocks and water. Can I keep it?!?" Eventually, I'll hear that part of the tale of the two frogs, and I will certainly post it so everyone can enjoy.



During dinner Bryce and Ansley were all atwitter with excitement over the new members of the family. I, on the other hand, was rolling my eyes at Brenna since I didn't want to have to explain life and death to young kids when these things kicked the bucket...or whatever it is that dead frogs do. I was then informed that these frogs will live 3-5 years. Apparently the people writing such information haven't seen the statistics on pets that reside in my house. Oh well...



I asked what they named their frogs and promptly heard, "Sally!" from Ansley. Bryce hesitated and then shouted out, "Stealth Fighter!" Some time must have passed as I un-crossed my eyes from laughing because Bryce was staring at me quizzically. I looked at him and asked where he got the name. He matter of factly said, "I named it after a plane."

Again laughing...

Well, that's it. Those are the official names, so I have devised a quick aide for all of us when we look at them. I would personally hate to be called by the wrong name, and I'm sure the same goes with water frogs.

This photo may also help the kids identify which is Sally and which is Stealth Fighter because they seemed to not really know either...

Off to School!

It's official, we now have two kids in school. Ansley was up bright and early for the bus ride to her first day at school. Now, if any of you know Ansley, you know that Ansley is the antithesis of "bright and early". She is more of an "Aw heck, let's stay up all night" kind of girl. In other words, 9am is a good time to begin thinking about opening the "peepers" and rolling out of bed to start the day. She begins her day the way a diver comes up from the deep murky depths of the ocean. Very slowly and carefully. Lord knows we wouldn't want her to get the bends by jumping out of bed too quickly...

I have yet to figure out how we ended up with two boys that find 5:30-6am a natural time to wake and how my daughter sleeps through all the ensuing ruckus. I wonder where she gets that...hmmmm...

But to memorialize the events of her first days of school, I captured this image of her standing up, with eyes open, dressed, and ready for the day at 6:56 this morning.

And off they run...

Will wonders never cease?

4th of July

This 4th of July we went up to our usual stomping (splashing) grounds at Lake Lanier in Gainesville, GA, but this year was different. I had one of my best friends come up and join in the festivities of family, fireworks, cycling and skiing. Now, when the two of us get together, general mayhem inevitably ensues. This year, we kept the mayhem to a minimum because Rick came bearing gifts that would leave a grin on my face and bruises on my feet. No, these types of results are not considered mayhem at all...seriously...

The addition to the water ski war chest? A barefoot boom.

Just days prior to travelling up to the lake, I got the go-ahead from the doctor to "lift some light weights" after breaking my collarbone into several pieces in March. I figured, "It's water? How can you get hurt with water?" With that, I decided to try to get back to skiing. Now this is pretty funny based on my past 4th of July water skiing performances. (i.e. 2 ER trips due to wake boarding)

I put all the negative thoughts regarding my old injuries out of my head, and climbed out on the boom. Before we took off, Rick taught me how to execute a quick tumble turn, gave some other vague instructions about hanging on for dear life, smiled mischievously, and hit the gas. I was immediately skimming across the water on my belly with white spray flying and the engine roaring.

At around 3,000 mph...I'm guessing here... he yelled "GO!", which was surprising since I have never heard any instructions from the driver of the boat in all my years of skiing. Being 5 feet from the boat is really cool.

I rotated onto my back and pulled myself around on my rear which was comfortably covered by the most unattractive pair of neoprene padded shorts imaginable. Unattractive, that is, until you are screaming along just under the sound barrier while hanging from a bar off the side of a Mastercraft. Then these shorts take on the aura of something Versace would have easily sold for thousands of dollars on the Paris fashion show scene. As a side note, Rick didn't seem to like the stylings of these fabulous shorts and developed a serious aversion to wearing them properly while rocketing across the surface of the lake...BUT...we won't go into that to protect the innocent.

To finish the story of my first attempt at barefooting, I planted my feet after tumbling around and I felt the pressure on the soles of my feet. It was amazing! I had enough speed to actually get my weight out of the water on about 1/3rd of each foot. I stood up and was up and going! The water hammering on my feet did produce a bit of pain, but it was so cool to try a new style of skiing after years of slalom, wakeboarding, wakeskating, I was up over and over again no matter the pain. I love learning to ski new ways.

Not bad for my first try if I do say so myself...

I took Rick for a tow and he showed us some really good "Feet Skiing", as Bryce would call it. I must say Rick really is good at this stuff! It's great to have him as coach.

Another benefit of a Barefoot boom is teaching kids to ski. The coach/driver can be right next to them and talk with them as the boat takes off. We got Bryce up for several hundred yards and Ansley even tried it too. Ansley would just giggle as she was pulled along. It was wonderful to see the family and friends enjoying the water.

I will post more kid pictures once I get the camera's memory card back from the lake house where I managed to leave it, so stay tuned for a second post!