And by Cherpumple, I mean this: Charles Phoenix’s Cherpumple

Simply put, it’s the baked goods version of the Turducken. And it is absolutely the best goddamn thing you’ve ever seen. At least, it will be the tastiest.

I do have one question: could we deep-fry it and add ice cream to it?

If yesterday’s faire du velo was tres froid, then today is just stupid cold. Like, crawl into a fresh tauntaun carcass and hibernate until spring rolls around. And while things are frosty around here, at least I’m not in Seattle. From what I understand, those jerks are getting their “ten-year snowstorm” a bit sooner than expected. Was it only three years ago that they were having two feet of snow dumped on them? Seems like only yesterday. Hopefully no one is freaking the fuck out over this. That hope seems unlikely, though. Don’t you understand that some people in Seattle live on hills?
Anyways, here’s to not freezing your butt off! Cheers!

Throw on the fat tires! Lower the tire pressure! Swap out the SPDs for some BMX platform pedals and put your Stay Gold foot retention straps on. Layer on as many clothes as comfortable. Now go ride!

Today’s temperature may have fallen in the same range as the age kids go to school, but that’s no excuse to not go out for a bike ride.

Actually, it’s a very good reason not to go for a ride. It’s, technically, fucking cold outside. But no play will make Jack go crazy, and we’re trying to keep that at a minimum these days.

So, for all of those feeling cooped up inside during these winter months, I say, “pssh!” Getting outside and riding is merely a function of how willing you are to 1) freeze your ass off 2) commit to riding on crusty, snowy roads and 3) ignore how warm everyone else seems in their cars and homes as you pass by. Basically, you are partaking in winter-series urban cyclocross. We just need more cowbell.

“Jack, wake up! Jack!”

“Mmmf…what happened?”

“You were on the road for two days. On the second day, you were in the wind and rain for ten hours. You got three flat tires. By the time you made it into Oakville, it was dark and not safe to be on the road any longer. You were complaining that your right knee hurt that same leg was going numb. You said that your hands were getting to the point of hurting every time you rode on the hoods. You were nowhere near where you wanted to be and where you wanted to be at the end of your second day is, research has told us, populated by methheads.”

“Yeah, I remember all of that. The random dogs that would give chase, the twelve inches of pavement you have to ride on where all of the road debris collects, the thirty-minute tire changes, the “waterproof” clothing that proved to be less than advertised, missing turning points on your route, the stupid hard climbs that were met with even more ascents. I remember all of that and the reasons why I had to go all Roberto Duran on this trip. No mas! No mas, is what I said. But I want to know what happened after that. Where am I?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this without you getting upset.”

“Tell me!”

“Jack, you’re back on the Island.”

“Seattle?”

“Yes…”

Lesson!

Take out your #2 pencil and a piece of notebook paper. Snap that pencil in half and shove it in your ear. Now take that piece of paper and run the edge against the flap of skin between your toes. Hurts, doesn’t it? Well, anyone who ever told you to pack light when travelling is feeling when you don’t heed their advice. I am 100% guilty of not packing light and it was brutal. Now, left the grand piano at home and didn’t bring along my prized anvil collection with me, but it still was too much. All of those little things add up really quick and suddenly with everything packed up and good to go, my bike felt like the tubes (steel or otherwise) were filled with concrete. So, lesson one: pack light. And then pack even lighter.

Lesson two: follow your map!

I did about 50+ miles yesterday and only about 30 miles towards the trip. I took one short detour in the first mile when I just didn’t think about the street I was looking for. On the plus side of things, my detour took me past some aircraft carriers. What magnificent beasts! I’d never doubted their size, but those were just beyond belief. Pretty cool, in my book. So, after taking one little foray off the trail, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson. Nope! “Fuck you, map! I know this is the right road” I screamed to myself. But, nope. Five miles down that road, and, well, the map was correct. Sorry, map.

I made it to Shelton, WA around 5:00 pm last night and found a decent place to hole up for the night. If you ever are there, the Shelton Inn is not the worse place one can ever find themselves.
Today, I will unload some of my gear, tack up the mistakes from Day 1 as rookie errors and lessons learned. Please take my word for it: pack light. Pack super light. Otherwise, when you break this rule, it will feel like shoving broken pencils in my ears and giving papercuts to that little flap of skin between my toes.

Happy New Year!

First, thanks to my sister for setting up this site. She crafts websites and was so kind as to put this one up for me. Many gracias!

Second, thanks for anyone perusing this blog as I embark on what may be the greatest or dumbest decision of my life. I’ll be learning on-the-fly how to operate this thing and keep it interesting for everyone.

I’m finishing up this latte, and then this journey begins. Bremerton is the starting point. Appleton will one way or another be the last stop. Wisconsin or bust! Wish me luck.

Check…check 1, check 2…testing, testing…syphilis…sssssssyphilis.