Thursday, July 26, 2012


We went bike part shopping this afternoon and started at Mike's Bikes Downtown. We walked into Mike's, me carrying the frame and front tire and Todd carrying the box of parts, fenders and handle bars. Mike's could not help us but referred us to Mike at Vintage Bicycle Supply near Sacramento City College. Our directions, well, it's in a strip mall after you go over the overpass near Sacramento City College and sort of across from the Football Stadium.
Hmm, well, ok. No, no I phones. So we cut across town, turned right at a strip mall across the street from the football stadium, kind of winded down the road until we find a sign that simply says bike shop. We find out way to the very back of a series of small, storage facility type buildings and find

Out front are several old down-trodden bikes in a rack. Mike is inside, me with the3 frame and the tire, Todd with the box of parts, fenders and handle bars. We have found our home.
Mikes says, that looks like an old Evans Bike. Wow, that rings a bell. He takes me outside to the rack of bikes I have passed. There, in front of me, is a sister bike.  Same fenders, same seat post, same chain thingy, same striping configuration.

I have an 1957 Evans
In my world, born on March 22, 1957

I left my bike with Mike. He will have it powder coated the same buttercream yellow, pinstriped blue and steel gray in the precise Evans pattern, he will clean it up, he will straighten the basket, He is finding me an appropriate bell. I am looking for an Evan's sticker for the front post  And I think I need a chain guard. So off to Ebay to find the sticker and chain guard.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

SF 1/2 Marathon 4 days to go Oh why Oh why

This race, oh why did I sign up for it? Longest training walk 8 miles, conditioning so so. Right leg, feeling good, rest of body is questionable.
Why did I sign up for it? Hmmm, too much wine with friends on a lazy January afternoon, seemed like a good idea. How will I get through the race? Wine on a July evening with friends, 3 hours of pain during the race, then a celebration at the finish.
Hey that reminds me of how I came to have 2 daughters.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Wildlife Near the Johnson Ranch, Stonewall Tx

We visisted the LBJ Ranch and state park on a hot Texas afternoon that thought we would stay and hour or so. We spent almost 4 hours wandering through the grounds. This deer was posing in the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower gardens.

Monarch butterfly sanctuary

Paper wasps

Judge Roy Bean

Maybe the US could use a few more Judge Roy Bean's in this day and age.


I have been really, really wanting a beach cruiser bike and really had no reason to buy one. I have a road bike and my little red fold-up bike. My bike that was a gift from my parents for my 7th birthday has been hanging in their garage, unridden since I left UCD in 1972.
On Saturday, we cut it down from the rafters and it is now being renovated to be my beach cruiser. It has a Sacramento bike license from the 1960's, my UCD bike registration sticker on the back fender, my name painted on the underside of the frame.

The yellow is a bit brighter than shown, frame is steel gray. The sucker weighs a ton.

 The front tire is shredded, but the tube still holds air. 
The bike is now is in pieces in our garage. The yellow fenders and gray frame will have to be sanded and repainted, it needs a new chain, tires and the ball bearings replaced in the handle bar column. It's rusty and dented, sort of like me.  Hey, what do you expect after 55 years?
This is going to be so cool. Keep you posted.

Friday, July 13, 2012


Signing up for the SF Half last January seemed like a great idea. I was particularly influenced by the 2011 t-shirts, long sleeve Giant's orange technical t's with an outline of the Golden Gate bridge on the front.
It seemed like a great motivational run in the summer, keep me going during the time it's tough of want to do much of anything. I signed up Jan 29, wave 8 to give me time to get over the bridge and back in the 3 hr time limit.
That was before I knew we were going to Texas for a week in June, before I decided to take a break from walking in May to cycle, before I tore my right plantaris tendon  week 3 of June and before the July family reunion in Oregon.
So I have walked 6 miles just before the plantaris tear and just now have been able to walk 3 miles. Hills are not such a problem, but 13.1 in 2 weeks. Oh my...
The thought of getting my feet in walking shape, the thought of walking for 3 hrs without sitting down, the pressure of having to finish in a cut off time. This was supposed to be a step back week in my training, not an all out attempt to just finish.
So we'll see what the next 2 weeks brings.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012


So when I had my first mountain lion encounter this year, I heard only the growls and rustling in the brush near the road we were walking on. Never in my wildest dreams did I anticipate revisiting the mountain lion adventure.
A group of us was hiking near Prospect Or on a trail near town. Prospect is just a dot in the road with a great old hotel, a trailer park, pizza parlor and store, not much else of interest except the waterfalls and Rogue River just down a trail outside of town.
Because of spring run off, the waterfalls we had seen during our trip were spectacular and this hike did not disappoint. We had just passed the falls and just finished a conversation about how he hadn't seen any wildlife except a couple of lizards and lots of birds.

Armed and ready to go.
Whew, we made it
My sister and I looked up the trail and some movement. I could see what it was, but it appeared to be proudly  walking with cat-like movements right on the trail we were walking on. It was headed away from us. As it turned a corner, we had a side on view of a mostly full-grown mountain lion.
No, no picts to prove, because at this point we were backing to to join the rest of the group. My cousin who is 6'4" and live in Bend said "Really?" there are so many people around here. "Yes" really and there are hardly any people here.
We took the walk loudly and carry a big stick approach to finishing our hike. My cousin and his 84 year old mom took the lead. Tricia, Jenni and I followed then, yelling stomping and carrying the biggest tree limb we could find.
Anybody want to go for a hike?

My Trail Angels...Crater Lake

Patience with injury recovery is not one of my strong suites. I so wanted to hike from the rim of Crater Lake to the shoreline but decided against it. Todd went on the hike and determined it wasn't worth the effort. Too many people, not a great hike and view better on the top. He said it was not worth the risk of further injury. I listened to him and to all who had warned me against the hike.
My Trail Angels
I had started the Annie Springs trail after dinner July 4 and it appeared to be a great flat trail. I picked it up in our campground the next day and was invited to join group of boisterous young Asian students. They they told me they were foreign exchange students from Taiwan studying hospitality on a summer work program in Crater Lake. We were chatting about what sights I should expect to see when I visit Taiwan. I should expect a lot of temples, one student said.
Each time there a step down, one would turn to help "the elder" down the trail.
At the bottom of the trail, I was invited to join the group pictures. They were laughing and throwing snowballs, posing for pictures on a rock in the middle of the stream. I had my shoes off to soak my feet in the frigid stream and walk through the snow. I was offered a gigantic marshmallow as a trail treat.

They went across the stream and up the trail. They were a group of kind, silly, gracious, flirtatious students who will be great hosts for their country.
I went back up to the campground no worse for the wear. No, the hike was not as intense as hiking from the rim to the shore of Crater Lake.
Thank you to my Trail Angels.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Crater Lake How Blue can Blue Be?

Crater Lake July 7 2012.


Wild: From Lost to Found  on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed is currently on the NYTimes best sellers list. I finished this book and The Barefoot Sisters, Hiking the Appalachian Trail earlier this spring.  Both books are intriguing reads about females who hiked alone in the wilderness, carrying their necessary goods on their backs. The thought of living weeks on end on re hydrated dried noodles and rice, sleeping in wet cramped smelly quarters, filtering water every evening is not on my short list of stuff I need to do in my life. No siree.
I applaud and admire whose who try.
Much to my amazement, I found one of the PCT drop boxes at Mazama Village in Crater Lake. The drop box is for hikers to leave off extra stuff or pick up items they need.
When I saw the box, I reflected on the description in the books about how much the hiker looked forward to finding stuff they need in the box, and how for a part of Cheryl's hike, she was down to her last 2 cents.
Trail journal  Click to enlarge
The books also describe Trail Angels who just leave food. I can't hike the length of the trail, but I can be a Trail Angel. The only reasonably priced food in the store was Cracker Jacks so I bought some bags and put them in the box in the morning. They were gone by the afternoon. That evening, I took some oatmeal, sweet potatoes and 2 bottles of beer  from our camping food supplies to the box. They were there the next morning so I guess no one went through that night. I think if I was hiking the trail, I would like to find Sierra Nevada Pale Ale in the box.

A trail journal is in each box so the hikers can leave messages for each other. The entries in the trail journal all sounded the same, cold and a lot of snow in the area. I talked to a 20 something who was hoping to hike from Ashland to Canada before the cold fall weather set in. He said he didn't need anything and had just dropped some stuff in the box. I wished him well as he turned and started up the road.  

An hour later, as we started our drive to view the lake, we saw him walking up the road to Crater Lake, taking his time, just putting one foot ahead of the other, with each step a little closer to accomplishing his goal.