Highway to hell

Step on the stage
The lights the praise
The curtain calls
And the big parade
You know that life all too well

The promise the pain
The valor the rage
Hold up your hands
For the bow and the wave
You know his touch
A little too well

You throw yourself
Into their arms
Mistresses have all the fun
But no one's ever there to take you home

Box up your gloves and your
Down coats
Bound for the sun and the
West coast
Where upper crust tragedies abound

A tip for the girl at the
Coat check
The guy at the door and the
Bar back
They know your face
Oh so well

But movies never made you famous
All your dreams got lost or traded
And all you ever cared about got lost

But you were surely still an actress
Older men would find attractive
And all you ever dreamed of was the cost

Where there's gold, there's a gold digger

You throw yourself
Into their arms
Mistresses have all the fun
But no one's ever there to take you home

--Dashboard Confessional, "Where there's gold"

There's really nothing better than waking up in the morning, having a nice coffee and breakfast, and trying to decide if I should go running, biking, hiking, or two of the above. Since I really have nothing better to do, and because I really like being outside in pretty much all forms, I spent a fair amount of time these days doing stuff outside. If the weather is good I can bike, if it's not good I can still run and hike without being bothered by being wet. Some days I don't feel like doing much of anything, so I don't, but most days I am outside until 1 or 2 PM.



I was telling a friend about my hiking trip the other day, and he asked, somewhat incredulous, if I had gone alone. Of course I went alone; if I waited around for someone else to do anything, I'd never leave my house. Whereever I live I tend to have one, maybe two friends tops who run or hike regularly, so most of the time I am on my own. I'm still picky about running; my enjoyment of it comes from the fresh air but also from having a sustained level of physical activitiy which can be disturbed if I am running with someone much better or much worse than I am--the former pushes me and the latter makes it more of a social activity than a workout. Hiking I enjoy doing with other people, because the pace and the scenery lend themselves well to conversation, but I am also just fine alone with the birds, the bees, the bugs, and sometimes my ipod.

Recently I bought my first road bike. I had the idea that I was going to buy a used bike in decent condition, figure out what biking is all about and eventually, once I'd earned it, work my way up to a decent bike. I don't race and don't wanna, so there is no need for a super spiffy bike. But I couldn't find a used one in my size / quality / price range, and once I tried a little blue beauty at a bike shop I couldn't even bear to go down a level and buy a completely entry-level bike. Anyways, after much effort, several square yards of cardboard and an inordinate amount of duct tape, expertly applied by two strapping young lads who expertly dismembered my bike, I managed to get the thing to Germany. Carrying the bastard around was certainly a pain; the box has approximately the lateral dimensions of a 1980s mainframe computer, weighs not that much but is, on the scale of awkwardness, comparable to performing at a high school talent show in baton twirling wearing your underpants on your head--and nothing else. Not that I would know, mind you.

Anyways, after finally having gotten all the bits and pieces more or less adjusted, I went for a ride this morning, with the close-your-eyes-and-point-to-somewhere-on-the-map style of navigating. I picked a direction, followed signs for a bike path, and turned back after an hour. I managed to work my way some distance up a two-lane, no-shoulder road in the desperate hope that at some point there would be a bike path, but there wasn't. A cop car passed me in the other direction and I half thought they would stop and yell at me--that seems to be a theme this week, urgh--but then again, bikes have the rights and responsibilities of cars, so there wasn't anything illegal about riding on the street, just impractical. Anyways, I reached my time and turned back, managing to execute my turn this time significantly better than the last time (the last time I tried to reverse course across a two-lane road I almost tragically misjudged traffic and was only subjected to honking horns and frantic calls from other bikers).

So, turned around. As I am rocketing down this hill, still on a two-lane, no-shoulder. I hear cars coming up to pass me, and they do. I hear a car coming to pass, and as it is alongside me it slows---it's the cops. All I heard was "bleargh-babbel-gibberish-have a good ride home!" Because yelling at someone who is rocketing at 40 kmh down a hill is a great plan. Ok-ee.... So I continue, and at some point I realize there is another biker shadowing me on the bike path to my left, keeping pace with me. I see a sign for Freiburg and I aim to left turn onto it. The other biker passes behind me, yelling, "do you know where that goes??" I don't turn and instead follow him, where he explains to me that I just about exited myself onto the Autobahn. Whoops. That would have been fun.



Anyways, I shadowded him home, staying OFF the thoroughfare, occasionally drafting off of him and attempting not to do anything stupid like get hit by a car. The ride home was more pleasant and faster than it would have been had I been alone, and I managed not to make an utter fool of myself, though my bike and I are still getting to know each other. I have a lot to learn, grasshopper, and I was thankful he sort of took me under his wing. More lessons learned....