Lately |

Jan 20

dream date

the pebbles roll under my toes. i like how it feels, the push and tug of the tide. i am in the shallows at a mysto reef break that somehow picked today to come alive. i shall make waves today, it decided, purely on a whim. or so it seems.

the place goes flat for so long, it eventually becomes impossible to believe it even exists. it’s like the great pumpkin, looking for the most earnest pumpkin patch, and never quite finding it.

the waves come up on the horizon, a mirage, a dream. you walk down the trail, turn the corner, and there it is. alive.

the first wave crashes over my head like a judgement, some kind of punishment for sins i no longer remember. there’s nothing dreamlike now. up close, the water froths and spits. the ocean, she gets angry sometimes.

and of course everyone’s here. the word goes out. someone texts his best friend who tells one other dude who calls his best friend who tells the guy at the coffee shop and before long, we all know. there are no secrets.

there are pros on their stickered up boards, locals on their lunchbreaks, the crazy dude who never shuts up, the girl who can’t really surf but sits on the main peak anyway. the dudes burn her, which isn’t nice. but it is predictable. when it’s like this, nobody’s feeling generous.

paddle, look left, pull back, paddle again. paddle, look left, get one. too bad it’s a close-out. back into the rhythm, i lose track of time, the dropping tide and shifting sun tell of hours passing. paddle, look left, go.

then we’re on the beach. a guy’s calling into work trying to sound like he’s not on the beach in his wetsuit, sand between his toes, salt-stuck hair. another dude is looking for sunscreen. i hand it over. i try not to drop my towel changing. life is about little victories.

the waves keep rolling through one after another, each more perfect than the last. the wind sleeps. the water is a mirror.

you never want it to end. that elusive perfection, it haunts your dreams.

Jan 15

3 Comments

the laughing group

The jokes are better at the back. That’s what I’ve learned. There’s time to look around. There’s time to tell silly stories and laugh at one another’s jokes, even when they’re stupid. Especially when they’re stupid.

I used to ride at the front. I used to surf my way through the field, slipping through the gaps between riders until I found just the perfect wheel. Following the right wheel will cover any number of fitness sins. I’d put my chin on the stem and just go.

And there’s sweet satisfaction in making a bike go fast. The pavement blurs beneath your wheels. You can hear the guy next to you breathing and the thunk of the gears as the pace ratchets up. You come home thrashed and glowing.

But you also miss a lot along the way, because going hard on a bike is the same no matter where you are. You pedal hard. The world streaks by in abstract lines. There isn’t much time to look around, and there’s certainly no time for jokes. The other riders are just riders, a wheel to follow or an obstacle to pass. They aren’t people, really, just riders.

Last week with a fast group ride looming, I decided it was a good day for a grupetto. The route promised great scenery and beautiful roads. But in truth, this was a decision driven by necessity. All the group ride savvy in the world was not going to cover for three weeks of surfing and no biking.

So I set to work rounding up a group of likely suspects. This is a key step in forming the grupetto. The perfect grupetto riders say they’ll ride slow and actually mean it. When the group starts to go hard, they can sit up and let it go. This is suprisingly difficult, actually. Our cavepeople brains don’t like to be left alone. There’s bears out there, you know. The perfect grupetto riders also know a lot of good jokes.

central coast

central coast, california.

Oct 11

2 Comments

how to ship a bike

method

The Skateboard

what you need

A skateboard. Ipod. Packing tape. A bike box full of bubble wrap. Also, a bike.

soundtrack

The Offspring, Days Go By. This is no time for artistic merit. Volume is the only thing that matters. It all sounds the same if you turn it up loud enough.

how you do it

Put all the bubble wrap on the bike. All of it. Do not skimp on this step. Run out of bubble wrap. Buy more. Keep wrapping the bike. Put the bike in the box. Tape shut. Use lots of tape. The bike might escape if you don’t.