Happy. Healthy. Heathen.

Well, that took longer than I thought!

To continue, I’ve been in New Mexico with mom and dad for a few days.  They are motorhome caravanners, Airstream to be specific, and have been on a southwest caravan for a couple of months.  They began in Moab, Utah (after having done the Lewis and Clark caravan the 2 months before that) and are concluding on Sunday.  I flew to Albuquerque last Saturday to join them for a few days.

In part I I told about the Balloon Festival, which continued to be spectacular.  The motorhome was parked in a lot facing the lift0ff field, and every morning at sunrise there were hundreds of hot air balloons in various stages of ascension.  Breathtaking in scope and vision.  Truly.  And because of the nature of the event, one is free to walk among the aircraft, chatting with the pilots and chase crew as they filled and heated the balloons.

When I last blogged, we were on our way to the Pueblo Indian Culture Center, where we spent most of the morning learning about the 19 tribes.  It’s a beautiful center with a courtyard for showcasing the native dances, and both an ancient and contemporary museum of history.

From there we tried to find not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 different restaurants for lunch.  We ended up at El Pinto’s restaurant, allegedly a favorite Bushie hangout (I managed to dodge the Republican vibe if that’s true) for their spectacular and spectacularly huge dishes.  We opted for enchiladas, quesadillas, and of course sopapillas with honey.

Then it was time for the caravan to move on, so off to Santa Fe we went.  Dinner the first night was at the Buffalo Thunder casino, along with a $10 credit, after the buffet, mom and dad hit the penny slots!  Wooohooo!!

The next day took us to downtown Santa Fe, where we saw old churches, shops, restaurants, and street vendors.  Then, in a dash, all the way up to Taos, where we went to the Taos Pueblo (no photography) and then to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge.

Then, to cap off a long day, before dinner we scouted out the Kit Carson Memorial Park where we found the grave we were looking for.  That may not sound like everyone’s idea of fun, but when you travel with dad, it’s mandatory.  It’s an historian thing.

It was a quick 5 days, now it’s off to Anaheim with daughter Amy for another adventure.  She and squeeze Curtis are attending the National Recreation and Park Association Conference.  Ames graduates in December with an Outdoor Recreation degree from ETSU, and she’s hoping to make a few job contacts…next post will find me in daughterbliss!

Big shoutout to Glendy for dogsitting while I’m gone:

Thanks for reading!

And following on the heels of the Warrior Dash…crazy, moonlight bicycle ride in Smoky Mountain National Park.

When Sam began college at UT in the fall of 2006, he began work at the UT Outdoor Program (UTOP).  I believe that it was through this group that I first heard about this ride.

Cade’s Cove is a beautiful plateau in the Smoky Mountains, protected on all sides by mountains, and according to the site, is one of the most visited place in the National Park.  On a pretty fall weekend, the loop is almost entirely filled with cars, creeping along looking at the flora and fauna.   Like most state parks, the road closes at dusk, and that’s when it gets interesting.  On a full moon, if you’re on a bicycle, you can see well enough to navigate, even without blinkies, on the 11-mile loop.  What.  A.  Rush.

Saturday night’s full moon was occasionally partially occluded by clouds, and sometimes diffused by a heavy fog that gave everything a kind of scary, surreal feeling.  There are old buildings along the road, and we stopped to see one of the old churches. It was here that we discovered Eliott’s flat tire.  While Amy and I were working to patch it, Eliott scared the poop out of Casey by tossing stones into the woods while Casey tried to figure out what it was.  We also got several packs of coyotes to answer back to our howls – pretty scary in the dark and moonlight.

The black bear sighting was the highlight.  We try not to use headlamps or white blinkies because you can see more if you let your eyes adjust and dilate to the moonlight, but after watching the large dark figure walk toward us across a field, we finally shown a light, and there he was.  We left in haste, with Casey beside me saying he didn’t have to outrun the bear, but just be able to outrun me.

We stopped at the working mill, and the other pioneer structure, seeing bats, and deer, hearing the coyotes, and straining for every bit of road definition out of the shadows of the moon.  We stopped at the part of the valley where you can hear an echo bounce back and forth across the ridge, and clapped and whistled and hooted until we needed to get back on the bikes and finish the loop.  We didn’t start riding until midnight, and between the flat tire and sightseeing, it was 3am when we got back.

I love this ride.  Going without a night’s sleep is a small price to pay for the memory of the experience.  It’s become one of my mental happy places to wander to when I need a refuge from stress and life drama.  The whisper of my tires on the road, the cool air on my face, the muted outlines of the fields and mountains, all come together to create a unique, unforgettable carpe nocturne event.  If you see me post that I’m making the trip again, ask to come along.

Oh, and my daughters and I are apparently 9 years old.

Thanks for reading!

Oh my yes.  Over and over.

Ragbrai 2012 has just concluded, and once again, it was the best week of the year.  I have tried for several years to blog about this event in such a way that I can make others understand why it’s such a fabulous event.  It truly is one of those things whose whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

The Des Moines newspaper is the Register.  In 1973, a couple of reporter friends decided it might be fun to ride their bicycles across the state over a week’s time.  That first year there were about 114 riders who made the whole distance.  This year, in addition to the 10,000 registered riders, it is unofficially estimated that there are another 5,000 “bandits”, riders not chosen through the lottery in the 10,000 limit.

The route is always west to east, and it is always a different route, spreading those tourism dollars across the state.  And the dollars were flying.  Pork chops, pie, t-shirts, pie, temporary tattoos, pie, barbeque, pie, beer, and pie.

Team Fly has been rolling since 1990, although we didn’t call ourselves that then.  Our first year the kiddies were in the carts behind the bikes, and sometime after I scan our old pictures, I’ll post some of those.  Now our team runs about 18-20 strong, and includes family, friends, and even a few folks we’ve picked up along the way!

The centerpiece of the team has become the Airbus, so named because of its airplane parts and aviation theme.  This is an old pic, but it does it more justice because in this one it has a new shiny paint job.  Big Jesse adds improvements every year – it has warm showers for up to 20, party deck, bunks, both first class and coach seating, overhead storage compartments, even 2 jump seats with 5-point harness.

This year was a particular toasty ride for the first 4 days.  Temperatures in the 100’s became 112 out on the road in the sun.  However, in a highlight of the ride, the rain dance of the members of Team Fly brought magnificent thunderstorms and cooler temperatures for the final three days.  Unbeknownst to my teammates, I was also dancing for tail winds, and as it turns out, I have supernatural powers because indeed, the following day we had tailwinds for 85 miles!

So after the 20 hour ride up, picking up the Colorado/Kansas group, 7 days and 480 miles of cycling, and the 20-hour ride back home, the bus is unpacked, hosed down, and parked til next year.  We’re all getting our nasty, sweaty clothes washed, our blisters, sunburns, and heat rashes are healing.

And we can’t wait til next year.

Find us on Facebook and start pedaling!

Thanks for reading!