Dreams and Schemes

I dreamt that I was bicycling (on a two-wheeler, not my trike!) from the apartment The Amazing Bob and I had in Brookline over to Hillel’s house in the Jamaica Plain neighborhood of Boston. Coco was wrapped around my neck. Yeah, she managed to hang on as we passed through the massive, scary intersection (five or six roads all meeting and crossing). Good kitten!

On the way I got hopelessly lost (of course) and ended up in some beat to shit neighborhood, lined with dilapidated, soot covered, once gorgeous gothic apartment houses, schools, churches. Actually, even coated in dirt and graffiti, the structures were magnificent. These abandoned, busted up hulls were creepy but awesome. Think Blade Runner street scenes – the ones without all the people.

Throughout, Coco hung on tight and was wildly fascinated. Why am I dreaming of biking through a deserted, dark, 40s era, urban landscape with my cat? Because I’m a cheery as fuck battered shell, rambling through the wreckage of America. Or some deep-ass, poetic shit like that there.

The dream, specifically the cycling, puts an idea, a plan, in mind. I wanna start triking again. I haven’t triked since TAB died and my concentration shattered into a zillion subatomic sized particles. Triking while deaf takes a bunch of serious focus and I was clean out.

Now that I’m on a crazy high daily dose of anti-seizure meds, my balance, walking strength and endurance are utter, stone crap. Yes, I have the recumbent elliptical but triking is more fun. Yes, even in the cold. Though I’ll be limited in how far I’m able to ride, (by my stupid weakness), I could make it down to the ‘big’ beach (half mile) and back. Woohoo! New views, FUN exercise, recovery progress. SO MUCH win!

Now to get my minders – Jen, Ten and Oni – to go along with this new exercise scheme.

Mail Call

Ida Rentoul Outhwaite

In my inbox yesterday – an ad for ELVES!

OK, a it was a plug for the solar powered trike/car hybrid – the ELF – not short statured magical beings.

Produced in Durham, N.C., by Organic Transit, the ELF is a cross between a bicycle and a car. It has three wheels, pedals, a solar panel, an enclosed cab, a carrier in the back and runs on a rechargeable battery.

The ELF can achieve 20 MPH with electric assist, and 30 MPH with pedaling.
The ELF's electric motor can transport you up to 48 miles with no pedaling!
Plug up your ELF to a standard electrical outlet, and it will be fully charged in 2.5 hours.
No carbon emissions and complete independence from fossil fuels.
160 LBS TOTAL WEIGHT  The ELF is very light-weight, and easy to manage.
350-550 LBS PAYLOAD The ELF can carry you, and more than a dozen bags of groceries!
7 HOUR SOLAR RECHARGE TIME Use the power of the Sun to fully recharge the ELF.
ELF Solo
$8,895.00 – $9,794.95 (OUCH!)

Does this not sound PERFECT!? Apart from the price, yes. Yes it does and I so want one – now plz. I’ve written of my ELF (and Sparrow) yen before. With its cargo hold space, it'd be fabolicious for grocery runs and other errands about town – even in rain and snow. Year-round, I could get shit done AND get exercise at the very same time!

Can the Elf also replace my car? I really want to get away from environment killing dinosaur whiskey – is this the ticket?

Dunno. Though it's car-like (so, bigger and safer on the roads than me and my trike), even with the electric assist, it doesn’t go fast enough to drive on major thoroughfares. The ELF is auto-ish but still a trike. Journeys up 93 into Boston or on any highway would be way ill advised. It couldn't be a complete replacement.

I could keep Bix and get an ELF for around town but do I really want to spend all that money? Am I entranced enough to take a trip down to North Carolina to test drive? Maybe. 

~~~
In the snail versus email yesterday, my new Linda Baker-Cimini print came! Christ almighty, I'm wild about her work!
~~~
And, my dear pal Michal wrote to say that she has friends over at Berklee College of Music and was connecting with them to see if any of them knows a cellist willing to play a few notes for this here deafie. YES! She sent me a name and email address. I zipped off my appeal and am waiting to hear.

IF this doesn't work, my Plan C is the electric bass.
~~~
NOT in the mail yesterday? Bills. It was a GOOD mail day.

Gym Ratness

I managed a double workout yesterday morning – pool time (laps and H2O aerobics) as well as a full session on the recumbent elliptical. Yea me! The Y was jam packed. Of course it was – we were all trying to work off all those feast-time calories in advance.

Now then, during my usual, midday exercise sessions the crowd is mixed.  On weekdays there are loads of olds, disableds (differently abled?), mothers and/or fathers with toddlers with just a few ultra fit younger adult types for spice. On weekends there are TONS of families.

Yesterday morning though, the gym rat crowd was out in force. I’ve never seen so many hardbodies in one place at one time before. Six months ago I would’ve been intimidated beyond belief – I prolly would've dejectedly pissed outta there, feeling all fat and frail. Now? I’ve lost a bunch ’o’ weight. While I’ll never be mistaken for a 30 year old triathleting endorphin addict, I feel and look better. I’m not done with the diet (will I ever be? don’t answer that) but I’ve gotten to a much better place. Onward!

At dinner with the McMurrer clan, everyone was asking me if I’d been triking much. No, no I haven’t begun outdoor pedaling yet. I need primo concentration to trike and that shattered when my brilliant man died. Wut up with the total attention need?
A) I wanna avoid being run over by passing tanks. Traffic – it's a three headed dog from Hell.
B) I also don’t want to roll the damn thing and break myself into a zillion pieces. Yes, a 3 wheeler CAN tip and tumble end over end. I’ve done it...twice. What can I say? I’m talented. I still want to trike the Hebrides – that dream, while back-burnered, lives.

Swimming laps helps my focus. I'm getting there.

While looking for an out-of-water tai chi or barre class, I found these savage offerings:

Body Combat
This fiercely energetic program is inspired by martial arts and draws from a wide array of disciplines such as Karate, boxing, Tae kwondo, Tai Chi and Muay Thai.

Coco, who is naturally lithe, doesn't understand this diet shit.

Sounds awesome but the name implies, to me anyway, that I’m at war with my body. Shouldn’t I be working with my bag ’o’ muscles and bones – ya know, becoming one with myself and shit? Also, what's up with the cafeteria style Eastern disciplining? Is this for folks who saw The Matrix too many times and wanna live it all at once?

Insanity
Transform your body with this total body conditioning program.

Again, the name puts me off. Insanity does NOT seem like a smart goal. Maybe that's just me.

RIPPED
The one stop body shock fitness system is a total body workout.

The title – all caps. That means it’s a SERIOUS workout, yes? Also “shock fitness?” I do not want to shock my body. I want to be stronger and more toned, not stunned.

GRIT
HIGH-INTENSITY INTERVAL TRAINING

OK, now this is clearly a class that’ll work my bod into a small pile of fine ash. That's the goal or so it seems. The tip off is that both name AND description are in all caps. It’s shouting at me, THIS CLASS IS FOR INTENSE GYM RATS GOING AFTER 6-PACK ABS ONLY!

Yeah, no thanks.

I think today's high intensity workout will involve stretching (and more of it) and a long Nantasket walk. Yup.

Trike Season

As magically lovely and mysterious as the past ten days of mist-bound, murky, chill rain have been I’m mega psyched to see the sun AND warmer temps. Yesterday I unsheathed my trusty steed, strapped on my bunny fur matting helmet and rode, rode, rode. 

Yup, feeling it today. Obvs it’s time to start doing the knee exercises again. Lazy thing that I am, I hadn’t done them, much, all winter. Jen’s got wonky knees too which has, over this past year, wreaked havoc with her beloved running habit. She’s much more consistent and diligent with the rehab drills than me. I need to take a lesson here – get with the program and shit. I do if I want to take epic rides anytime soon.

Triking and running – our brands of meditation.

I need to get chubby tires so that I can ride the trails around the Neck and in the nearby Blue Hills. Oni – our resident trike god – tells me that my trike frame is incompatible with mountain trike tires. I haz a big fat sad here. I'd hate like hell to have to buy a whole 'nother beast so's I can go off road. Also too – they don't come cheap by any means. I believe I'll head over to the local bike emporium and see if they've any thoughts.

Meantime – it's a gorgeous day and I gotta go work on my quads and hamstrings. *sigh*

Before the sun cane out – so many beautiful colors of grey.

And then we entered technicolor-ville

Delicate Flower

The last couple of days have been warm and sunny. Absolutely gorgeous and wonderfully trikable. BUT, you may ask, isn’t everyday wonderfully trikable?

CONFESSION TIME!!!

I seem to have become a weather weenie over the last two years. I blame that damned Snowmageddon winter. Understandable, right? So what’s my excuse for this past winter? It was one of the warmest on record and there was very little snow. Why wasn't I out there zooming around the Neck in mid-January?

Eh, I claim Delicate Flowerhood-ness.

Ya know, we get a lot of wind here along the water. The frozen, scalpel sharp gusts managed to pierce my riding shades (which I wear over my glasses for that extra special, groovy sun and wind protection) and, babies, that was UNcomfortable! Yes, yes, I could’ve armored up, so to speak, and applied more of my nighttime eye goop to the wonky left eye but I didn’t.

The old triking machismo lay sadly, pathetically dormant this winter. Does this mean that my days of zipping around in 15º weather over? Emmmmm, who knows?

What I do know is that the warm sun feels fab and the fragrance of growing things is practically intoxicating. Everything smells different, alive and budding. Even the ocean's perfume is heightened. Seems it's got a big date with the sky and spritzed on a little extra of the expensive stuff.

Though raining now, the sun will be out later this afternoon, the temps will be in the 50s (just barely but STILL!)  and I’m gonna ride, ride, ride.

Huh...it's November

Christmas shit’s been sneaking into the stores for a month now but, apparently, Halloween’s the new Thanksgiving. I popped into Barnes and Noble yesterday with my shiny new 20% off coupon, hoping to find some little bit of escapist nonsense and was utterly distracted by all the bright holiday displays and promos.

Not SO distracted that I missed The Aviator’s Wife. Is this another Time Traveler’s Wife deal where the good wifey stays home while the manly man husband goes off and has adventures. A love story for frustrated housewives.

It appears that The Aviator’s Wife, to a degree, is just that but maybe it's got a bit more going on. It’s a fictionalized account of Anne Morrow and Charles Lindbergh’s marriage from her POV.

Charles sees in Anne a kindred spirit, a fellow adventurer, and her world will be changed forever. The two marry in a headline-making wedding. Hounded by adoring crowds and hunted by an insatiable press, Charles shields himself and his new bride from prying eyes, leaving Anne to feel her life falling back into the shadows.

Could be interesting and it could be just another tale for thwarted homemakers. I’d rather read a straight-up biography of her. Did you know? She was a writer and a glider pilot, not just the wife.

I wanna know, where are the books about adventurous/adventuring women and their stalwart, faithful husbands who stay home, keeping the light on and the hearth warm? Hmmmm? Maybe The Amazing Bob can write it while I'm off triking the Isle of Ske and the Hebridean Trail! The Deaf Triker's Husband?

Afterwards I dropped by the grocery to pick up a bag of Kit Kats on the off chance we’d get a few trick or treaters (we never do but I like to be prepared plus TAB's mad for Kit Kats). Wham—a full aisle of wrapping paper, electric candles for the windows, big, round cozy peppermint and gingerbread scented candles, tree lights, snowman bedecked Christmas cards,

Uploading the mail into the Phlegmatic Tube system

I hate Christmas already. At this time of year I’m grateful for deafness so I don’t have to hear months of insipid Christmas Carol Muzak.

When I got home, I curled up with Rocco and a book—Virginia Woolf's Orlando. I love a book that sends me to the dictionary!

Fatuous sounds, to me, like it should be an official chef-type word for lard. You know, as in Paula Dean’s recipes are notorious for being terribly fatuous.

Nope, it means: foolish or inane, especially in an unconscious, complacent manner; silly.

Phlegmatic sounds like it might describe the condition of a1940s era office mail system. As in, the pneumatic tube’s phlegmatic, all snot clogged, again today so we need to get the office boy to deliver everything. OR maybe, instead of the transport cylinders zipping along via compressed air, they sluice through through the magic of mucus?

//shudder//

Nope, it means: not easily excited to action or display of emotion; apathetic; sluggish.

And, on that note, it's time to suit up and ride before the rain begins!

Morning Torture Time

Though my sweet Helen works just part time for the Hilton Corporation she gets awesome bennies. One of those perks is a deep, deep discount on stays at any of the affiliated rental cribs.

LOVE this. For the most part, whenever I’ve booked a room here in the US of A, it’s been at your basic No Tell Motel. Cheaper the better. The Holiday Inn would be my big splurge BUT, after a few less than stellar experiences, I’ve ixnayed that chain.

In any case, like most (all?) high end hostelries, This place we’re at has a pool, hot tub (!!!) and a gym. Cool, eh?

Helen rose at 5:30 and was full of energy. Yes, yez. We are SO related! She suited up and announced that we were going to the gym for our morning workout.

*GROAN*

Sure, I could’ve bagged. I could’ve said ‘Nah, I gotta sit here, drink coffee and play my online Scrabble games.’ Did I? ‘Course not. Since I didn’t get a chance to trike yesterday AND a solid daily workout is mega important for mood elevation/stabilization and clear sinuses as well as weight loss, I had to go.

OK, OK, the real motivating force? I just knew I’d feel guilty later. On this once a year Just Us celebratory weekend, we’re overindulging on both comestibles and the fruit of the vine. That second glass ‘o’ vino was gonna taunt me ‘I’m gonna go right to your hips, you old cow’ as it went down. I knew it.

NOT inspirational or engaging!

So, Helen and I entered the exercise room—a place chock full of giant, bulky, intimidating machines which all bore a striking resemblance to Imperial Walkers. Helen’s torture device of choice was the elliptical. There were two of these beasts. I could’ve joined her. Did I?

You know I didn’t! I was willing to move, to exercise but, please, let’s not get carried away. Luckily, there was a stationary bike. It was programmable too. I went for the fat burner option—an hour long bout of obscenely boring torment. Why boring? Dammit, there’s nothing to see. All the hills are virtual. Yes, there’s that damnable little screen that shows my progress but that’s not the same as being outside, whizzing past the glorious bay, the trees, flowers and interesting houses, struggling up the hill at one end of the big marsh.

Also, I only mention it but pics of Daniel Craig scaling that cliff in Cowboys and Aliens would be way more inspirational for me than this damn screen. Maybe that’s just me.

If this was my only workout option, if I couldn’t get outside, I’d surely have to learn how to meditate. I’d need to be able to go full metal Mushin to get through an hour of that on a daily basis.

Alright already, I know that learning how to meditate makes sense anyway but I need a good push like those blasted machines.

The Last Day of Summer

Was yesterday. Here's some of the gorgeous beauty found on my ride on that final sunny-season day

What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.

~ John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America

The sun did not rise, it overflowed.
~Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine 

We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer's wreckage. We will welcome summer's ghost.
~Henry Rollins

One must maintain a little bit of summer, even in the middle of winter.
~Henry David Thoreau

There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
~Percy Bysshe Shelley

But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.
~Stephen King, Salem's Lot 

Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.
~Dr. Seuss

Wheels and Fish

I feel pretty damn good about all I was able to accomplish yesterday. Yes I do.

Earlier than usual, I got on my trusty steed and rode up to Wollaston Beach and then, THEN, I pedaled the entire length of it and back! I even made it the whole way home from there too. All together, with my usual detours and wanderings, that’s probably no more than 13-14 or so miles BUT that’s great for me.

The only downside to triking along Wollaston Beach is that there’s about 50 bazillion runners, perambulators, Tai Chi-ers, strollers, greet-the-dawners, dog walkers and such who are out to exercise and enjoy the view too. I ride on the sidewalk here because folks barrel down Quincy Shore Drive at 40-50 miles per hour. Yes, the speed limit’s 30. Hells, even that’s scary when you’re on a recumbent trike. I've a larger flag on the back now but still, all those tons of steel coming up fast behind me's nervous making to say the least.

So then, if I’m gonna ride along the beach, I need to get out there a little earlier, before the crowds. Leaving the house around six would be good. Not today though. I’m trying to be smart and follow long treks with shorter ones so that I don’t blow out my knees (as I did last year).

Seuss fish in progress

Next on the accomplishment parade—I got the background color in and up on my stairwell/second floor landing koi pond. The koi are done and all but one lily pad is finito—it’s just the plain wall color out of which the koi pop. Given that our house is just a wee cottage, I went with a very pale, almost white, blue. Morning Sky Blue is the hue.

Jen came over to assist. Hells, she did the lion’s share while I worked on the painting which graces the bathroom door. Yup, I’ve got happy Seuss fish on there. I’m figuring metallic gold/bronze for the doorframe because, seriously, the throne room deserves humor AND glitz. Amirite or amirite? You know I am, babies!

Three big things completed yesterday—the first being the organizing, light editing and posting of Dakota Jackson's GREAT essay about part of her Appalachian Trail thru-hike. If you've not read it yet, DO!  These were on top of the usual daily houseworky, errand runny, life upkeepy crap. Yes, yes I am feeling quite cozy about all this. Now to keep that get-a lot-of-shit-accomplished momentum going.

Easier said than done. *sigh* 

 Everything is theoretically impossible, until it is done.
~Robert Heinlein

The Dead Garden

A string of condos for the dead

Mother Mary comes to me
Weeping words of wisdom, let it be

One more glorious day to the weekend. The temps are gonna hit 90º+ today so I’ve got to get out for my ride early. Bast knows, I melt, become horrifically whiny and start demanding Martini ice cream floats when overheated. Not pretty.

Beth Carter
Dancing with Morpheus

On Saturday, I pedaled the whole way up to the cemetery just beyond Froggies. Why ride there? I'm still uncomfortable with triking on busy roads and riding on the busy summer promenade along Wollaston Beach is annoying and dodgy. Being three wheeled, I'm wider than bikes and take up more sidewalk space AND I'm speeding along. I feel like a collision waiting to happen. This being a serious non-starter.

In any case, the boneyard's nice and quiet—little to zero chance I'll knock anyone off their pins. Yea.

Despite my most def strong aversion to the idea of burial ('cept at sea) I like graveyards. They're tranquil. Sometimes there's even a few interesting (for a Dead Garden) sculptures to see such as this regal elk who reminded me of Beth Carter's Dancing with Morpheus, just seen on my Newbury Street gallery hopping expedition.

That weeping, presumably, Mother Mary above? I love the line, the sweep of the dress. That and the extreme distress. Isn't this unusual in a memorial statue? Aren't graveyard people sculptures generally all placid and somber—no dramatics? An anguished figure strikes me as way more appropriate for a lost beloved one's finally home than a cross or an urn.

If I was gonna be planted, which I'm not, I'd want some sort of neon sculpture, like Tristin Lowe's Comet: God Particle sitting atop my rotting corpse. OK, better still, one of Anthony Howe's brill kinetic pieces—About Face mebbe (begins at the one minute mark in the video). And I'd want music too. The Ride of the Valkyries or NIN's The Downward Spiral. Maybe The Queen of the Night Aria or Orff's O Fortuna?

That'd be fun! If it's not gonna be fun, I don't wanna play.

When you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
~J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye 

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let's choose executors and talk of wills
~Shakespeare, Richard II 

Bix Is Back

Almost.

Momentarily, Jen will be toting my big, round arse over to the smart car repair shop to pick up my poor beleaguered Bix. It’s been more than three weeks since I’ve seen him. The mechanics finished the work yesterday afternoon but motoring over to Somerville and then back home in Friday, end of summer, penultimate Cape weekending, rush hour traffic somehow didn’t appeal. Always impatient me figured I could wait until morning. Huh, very mature and forward thinking of me.

Instead of sitting in stop and more stopped gridlock hell, I went for a trike ride. Mein Gott it was glorious! I’ve a new, bigger flag on the back of my trusty steed which, I hope, makes me more visible to all the thousands of pounds of speeding steel coming up behind me. Nervous, me? You betcha!

Seeing as yellow, or greenish yellow, is the color which grabs people’s eye first, the most visible of hues, I’ve a bright yellow helmet, a mellow yellow trike and now a vibrant yellow patterned flag. I’ve also got neon yellow and orange safety vests which I should wear all the time but, in 80+º weather, I’ve been throwing caution to the wind and going without. I’m figuring that may not be so bright. I’ll mend my ways, I surely will. Probably not until temps drop into the 70s though.

I'm exploring ways to attach saddlebags to my brill stallion. I figure, this way, I can do at least half my daily errands via trike versus car. Better for the environment, better for me and my perpetual weight loss attempts.

Having said this, I am SO psyched to get Bix back! God only knows when the buckolas from the insurance company will come through so I continue to watch every penny.

Interestingly, ease in transportation seems to spark greater spending. I know, DUH, rilly Donna. No kidding?! Going to the book store (a 15 minute drive) versus the library (a 15 minute bus ride). Lunch out with The Amazing Bob as opposed to sammiches at home. If I'm in a gallery hopping mood, followed by art supply shopping—easy peasy. Afterward I can catch a matinee at the lux Braintree movie theater—no prob!

All this can be done without the car BUT it takes more planning and, with T travel, the better part of a day. MUCH easier to go out for a trike ride, dine at home, make do with the art supplies and reread old fav books. Without the car, I’m much more of a non-spendy homebody…sort of.

Mind, it's a brill home to be reluctant to leave.

Wheels

Downtown Quincy is a 20 minute bus ride from us, the denizens of Valhalla. A hippy groovy health food store can be found there, a comic book emporium, a few jewelers, a joke shop, an aquarium seller, an Asian furniture showroom, a lot of restaurants and more.

Ya know what can’t be found in Quincy Center? A pharmacy. No book store either. Frustrating, very frustrating—particulary since I’ve been, mostly, carless for the last three weeks. I’ve now got what, I’m sure as fuck hoping, is the last of my rental cars, a Hyundai Accent. It’s another great boat of a thing, just like the last 2 rentals, also categorized as a sub compact. I imagine the car classification gods are comparing it to the Nimitz.

If  the Accent's a subcompact, what's a Smart Car considered? A roller skate? A utility cart? One of those suitcases on wheels? Would Bix fit in an overhead compartment?

scenes from a ride

I got word yesterday that Bix may be ALLLLLL better today or tomorrow. YEA! I do feel rather silly about this. After all, I can do almost all of my errands via bus and T. Mind you, it’d take the better part of the day BUT it could be done.

I’m thinking that if I can figure out a way to attach saddle bags to my trusty trike, I could get my workout in at the same time I rock the Errand Queen deal. Did I do this over these three carless weeks? No. SPAZ!

My triking pal, Michie, has a basket and a hook up so she can tote her folded up walker with her. I gotta hit my local bike shop and see if they can kit me out. 

On yesterday's excursion, I pedaled nearly halfway up Wollaston Beach. Round trip, including all my off path detours, that's close to ten miles. Huzzah! Can it be long before I'm ready for my Isle of Skye Adventure? It's within reach. I can feel it now.

Wheel In The Sky—Journey

Summer Triking

It was a feverish, blistering hot weekend here in Valhalla with Sunday’s temps hitting a red hot 90º. Yes, I’m well aware that, in Phoenix, that’s the low end of the day’s heat scale. I’m in bloody New England though—I have cause to whine!

In addition to hiding out in an arctically chilled cinema, I went for trike rides. I'd a vain hope of catching a good, brisk breeze. Nope—none to be had. OK, the other reason for cycling on such an oppressively torrid day is that I’m feeling a mite behind. That is, I’ve a new penpal who also has Nf2 and also trikes. She does 10-18 miles PER DAY! Moi? If I do 12, well, boyhowdy, I’ve had a banner outing. Half that’s about the norm. I’ve simply got to catch up.

Yes, yes, yez, there are rock firm reasons why I’m not in peak form yet:

• My first trike was, essentially, a fixie. I blew out my knees pedaling up the hills around here and had to rehab those suckers.
• The roads were kinda sorta really wicked SNOWY this past winter.

 So then, my knees are OK now, there’s no damn snow on the roads AND I’ve that glorious new trike (with gears!) so I’ve got to ride, ride, ride! I may not get to take my Isle of Skye Trike Adventure Trip until next spring but I WILL get there.

Here's another cool thing about my new chum—she's been riding longer than me and knows more about trikes. I was bemoaning the fact that I can't do back trails with my ride—the wheels are for street riding not rough terrain. How can I trike the Hebridean Trail?

Does anyone even make mountain trike tires? My friend knew the answer and it's YES! Ice Trikes makes a beast called the Full Fat. Babies, this is a mean, stone beauty! Yes, it's wickedly expensive BUT, who knows, maybe one day there'll be enough shekels in my piggybank. If it doesn't fold, I could get a roof rack for Bix. Dunno how I'd get it to Lochboisdale and the start of the Trail but, ya know, baby steps and I'll get there,

In the meantime, I need to head up to Anderson Bicycle today for a ride maps. It's time for me to fold my yellow baby up, stow it in Bix and check out new roads, fresh views.