tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46239513537941896872024-03-27T10:46:07.937-07:00Misadventures of MiriamThe semi-coherent ramblings of a science geek/cyclist/fat cat owner.Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-78294640982082210982009-12-21T12:48:00.000-08:002009-12-21T13:32:26.583-08:00Where to begin?So Ive spend the last few months away from my blogity blog. I'm sure I've lost a 1/3rd of my readers, so now I'm down to 3. Better start building up the fan base again.<div><br /></div><div>Where have I been? </div><div>Charleston, West Virgina</div><div>Beckley, West Virgina</div><div>Jackson's Mill, West Virgina</div><div>Denver, Colorado</div><div>Vail, Colorado</div><div>Avon, Colorado</div><div>Estes Park, Colorado </div><div> (where I saw a bear out front of our lodging and saw Denver people taking pictures of mule </div><div> deer - oh it's so CUTE!)</div><div>Salida, Colorado</div><div> (Where the best gluten free pizza in Colorado is located)</div><div>Durango, Colorado</div><div> (to visit my bed and stuff)</div><div><br /></div><div>Why was I in all those places in less than 30 days? One word: work.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-6335836565924080542009-08-24T18:49:00.000-07:002009-08-24T22:53:54.148-07:00New Mexico - The Land of Enchantment? Or July, July, July part 2<div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The 2nd to last week in July, I had my pre-service orientation (PSO) for AmeriCorps*VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America). For those of you who dont know, AmeriCorps is the domestic Peace Corps. Except I already speak the language (mostly), I dont have to move half way across the world, just the country, and finally it is only 1 year requirement. I can do two if I love living at poverty. AmeriCorps whole mission is to eradicate poverty. It was started in the Kennedy administration. Poverty is apparently a bitch to eradicate.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhK29OlnQNjoCf4JOOCpbzQkgRYQybebVSV_26Lrb4HfZe2tKa2MFaWdm9qfrAxKR8dhFsHdxPvEEYk-4f2cJ66YIWAkuJcA-6zzwCg-DbP-YvzUwrsW76pQlx2c_hbsci4a8nwmdsjU/s320/2009-07-21+13.54.09.jpg" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 223px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373762213572506642" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">So the newest VISTA in town, Mike, and I drive and drive and drive to Albuquerque New Mexico. The drive between Durango and Albuquerque is effing barren, and all reservations. Coincidence? Highly unlikely.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">We were staying at some swanky Marriott for 3 days. Everything is catered, we have more food than we can possibly eat, there are 2 down comforters on my bed, and there is a 36" LCD Samsung in my room. Duplicate that for hundreds of rooms.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The 200+ lot of us was there to learn about AmeriCorps, VISTA, and poverty. The average age of the people there are 23ish. I'm an outlier at then 29. I'm not fresh out of college. I've had a real job. I've traveled to travel because I could afford it, not because Mommy and Daddy were paying my way for a term overseas. But there are plenty of cool people there. Lots of fresh young faces who want to make a difference in the world. Which made up for the palpable naivete in the air.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">It was fun, I made friends who I hope I can stay in contact with for quite some time. I hung out with my peeps, who are in my team here in Colorado. We had lots of good bonding over beer. Mike will be my roommate when Bean moves out. Well, he is currently living in the nylon addition, aka a tent in the backyard.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtXn3lV2x9x6tqKN_DdNnsS4rBvEJGcoitxJiXoC3WxOxcRBDY_KjzL52HcHNxF4ERaANNXTJRn_kot_HoTo4WwLyifmwmWZWvWh5dbNoQ6NU3SLgf1cpJgx2nexQweeo7NCgWlz5CNGM/s320/2009-07-23+23.20.56.jpg" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; text-align: justify; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373747811761022898" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">My biggest problem with the whole training week was the whole discussion of what poverty is: how systematic it is in society, and how hard generations of poverty is to break juxtaposed with the posh hotel environment. But that was like a big huge elephant in the room. So we are living well on the government's dime for the week, to be preached at about poverty. Hypocritical? Yes. Starting the discussion at the very beginning - we are sitting here in a bubble - would have been a great start. If nothing else acknowledging it also would have at least gotten the doe eyed and freshly scrubbed recent college grads thinking.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Due to the fact that I loved New Mexico so much, the first week, I get to go back the following week! Yea! This was another work trip with my boss, Allan from DC, my 2 Colorado coworkers, Katrina and Torie, and my soon-to-be New Mexico coworker, Jhon. In 3 days, 2 nights we go Durango -> Taos -> Sante Fe -> Pecos -> Sante Fe -> Albuqueque -> Durango. That would 601 miles (according to Google) in 3 days, 5 people, and 1 large Dodge Durango SUV. Work trips require work. Especially when the boss-dude is around. We had a good time, met with a lot of good folks, learned shit-tons about the water quality issues, abandoned mine lands, the different regulatory agencies, and the culuture of New Mexico.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I found it facinating to actually realize that there were 3 distinct cultures in NM. Anglo, Native, and Latin. Within each main group, there are many subsets. Loads of different tribes and reservations dot the landscape. There are distinct Spanish and Latino cultures, and friction between them. It was insane to hear of remote areas that still speak 16th century Spanish and that towns have been around for 500 years. Then we stopped at Trader Joe's. and loaded the SUV up with goodies (ie beer) and high tailed it the frick home. I was soo very very glad to sleep in my own bed. Four days at home and 6 on the road is hard. Plus I had to start running since I couldnt take the bike with me on the second trip.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;font-size:100%;" ><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tiAQi3HvIgnGAb-3L-Ip43Y-57lro3XnurX6MS5OEvBK0ypLngVs0KnHwj0_uQm0EhgjFQqaQ89nq_4OwxDHV8lw5bGl8KA7lLZY5eEN5ORwIg134YOS8a1HnT3mQkcvtLhQtHo8CAE/s320/2009-07-29+12.01.27.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373771717234268722" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;font-size:100%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">The not-so-grand Rio Grande, outside Taos</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLqRUZltEJemVTbL0OvZwo9apBpSsMewJgh10VesMWWnNH1Go6FuZJnYZan7u5F8hj8s0JCklU79C8SmHpNzS45xJPwPQlwae6130zIjt6ZdFzgVfj3tMQtgiHk4rX1wWCaAkmHc7PiA/s320/2009-07-31+16.44.29.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373766771850031426" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Post Trader Joe's</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf173vMpiZpZuzwoj9ZoYwTD8Ctif8H0Dl0fK1Jc7OtUMcoEihQjsY_9e3_t18iCRCZiHzt4clb3BZHZRR3FaM1lkVBVuLiX_i0hp445xtsHQI2gu6s36hghzB19HZaR1WAT3iOvPbvKE/s320/2009-07-31+15.16.12.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373764420014186754" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Albuquerque's love for Eric Estrada is second to none.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBChvhE9nZZwYzDtuPUlJj0eR5rXW9-DgXNOs2MJlxE7zso87tMCMDwBrO4mOaCGAZljQx-OfuKZN1aUKK56FwZra2vwJkR2CtLEqKgtao-FUjH6Ev5nY07bC_x-E8NgyBYi1nfi4k2jQ/s320/2009-07-31+15.32.24.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373763300670906002" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Found at a hotel in Albuquerque, needless to say I did not go swimming.</span></span></div>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-67440957277962015922009-08-16T21:42:00.000-07:002009-08-24T22:51:23.049-07:00July, July, July - Part 1<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So in my normal lackadaisical fashion, I havent been very updative. But I'm back with a vengeance (sort of like Bruce Willis, but with less bad acting and blowing things up).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Its been a whirlwind of activity this last month. Where did it all go? Hiking, camping, mtn biking, and New Mexico.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So I spent many a weekend hiking, biking and camping. The trifecta of ings. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">One awesome day, B, Emma, some boys, Teal and I went for a ride. We started at Coal Bank Pass, 10,000+', rode to above treeline, changed into non-spandex and "approach shoes" aka my</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> running shoes and summited Engineer Mountain (13000+'). We got chased down the mountain by a fast moving thunderstorm, changed and then hightailed it into treeline (who wants to be caught above tree line with 26lbs of metal between their legs?). Then we rode from Engineer Mountain to Cascade Lakes. This is a beautiful trail and I got beaten up by Cow Parsnips that were bigger than me (granted, lots of plants are bigger than me, but usually they are trees and shrubs, not flowers).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So what I forgot to mention: everybody but me is a pro rider of some ilk (downhill or cross country), and I had eggs an hour before I rode. I should never ever ever eat eggs before a bike ride, especially a mountain bike ride. I burped my front tire (let lots of the air out when I crashed), got some help from a couple of dudes who were behind me after spending a lot of time walking, getting rained on, and being pissed at myself/my bike. Needless to say, I was a bruised monkey, and learned several valuable lessons:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">1) Riding with fast people can make you faster, it can also make you feel very very slow</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">2) Know how to use your CO2 airhead/cartridge set up</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">3) Make sure you have the bar plugs in your handle bars</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">3.1) I have a pretty 1/2 moon scar on my left knee cap to prove it</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DFuzGxeb6THLqmnmfxbin56SgulcXV7arMgT__bFXWOMKdibQfN4BJP4ogFxjlbag0d7NG4AP3lvWcrgMudF6G3t20OoTfGgR8qqTJn84EazEuoxx0jG5SK97svd0Y6HVIt1r428C9E/s320/2009-07-25+10.48.53.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371154710919811922" border="0" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Sweet single track from Coal Bank to the base of Mt Engineer</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7NEEUmYcKB3FDCK9NtL2ulwlMBjHNeJNNzxMhZ0cg-ji1mBroIj8CcqaUgTiceaGDmAdWshKilzS6TDU3zAhgRSpTbkeCleOLNrnUw3lRrojPNE5bhMiCjgfChNlUeZtozqdgkDtbnM/s320/2009-07-25+11.55.30.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371153583943134914" border="0" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">From Engineer Mountain, NNE</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBMvypX3ckUu6iAYBH6lQTLbIwuZXxMJEO0_IsNXrPw3GLTOKKC0hmxf6mS1CBCfxrm4bUXZ6nQRhdFKs621xN_5OZNi-pZKhSSFf-T6df-uUyuVNnqeKMMTOAaWfyL_2HEayxmdMjGE/s320/2009-07-25+11.55.34.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371150189657184818" border="0" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">From Engineer Mountain, Southish</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGbZNwAori_obOh_Fwa57jqZ6CtwGJfja9Xi-0cXxPT-uJhTRX0tjY7js0xRS9tPXGjkcN1NAfzI5_Jx_bQuf9ptJGbURET65Qzf9FGumb_U9oPlFsa8iF3bPEj6r31P4RmCNPye9wS50/s320/2009-07-26+13.48.16.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371149108506935138" border="0" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Yea, that left a mark.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-72575863587055484152009-07-13T19:46:00.000-07:002009-07-13T20:42:30.440-07:00Utah, just incase you thought Oregon and Idaho were boring...<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-E5hAXreJNAf0Hn5SyhdJ0LZV-PMD_5_hwfHcnv2gFev-oR2XN4lGAAmWKgIYDJPzbOJ6jIYuYHC3vOyaEh1X60PYUk4G1VTSNqfrPd4fy3BZJQ6QTXqLKCrQTa0j2mUUxhravDB1Ow/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-E5hAXreJNAf0Hn5SyhdJ0LZV-PMD_5_hwfHcnv2gFev-oR2XN4lGAAmWKgIYDJPzbOJ6jIYuYHC3vOyaEh1X60PYUk4G1VTSNqfrPd4fy3BZJQ6QTXqLKCrQTa0j2mUUxhravDB1Ow/s320/Moving+to+Durango+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358155955312628082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;">ROCKS! (because in Eastern UT thats about all there is, seriously, I dont think animals even live there)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYr5iYzf5BmyfcerpB0n_lpNs6Jd_DQHY8OYJIWE3_BDO4pOShuOyztKa6BuEfFEOEzW5jM1Bw5uBVGLZ4O2QFitjtW8E0G_bpJ1AafjXdb5tmf8p3Zct6kWDqSdBOzGtaxg7kAI1_Xgs/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYr5iYzf5BmyfcerpB0n_lpNs6Jd_DQHY8OYJIWE3_BDO4pOShuOyztKa6BuEfFEOEzW5jM1Bw5uBVGLZ4O2QFitjtW8E0G_bpJ1AafjXdb5tmf8p3Zct6kWDqSdBOzGtaxg7kAI1_Xgs/s320/Moving+to+Durango+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358155559447708402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLDmyHtzS39x9j8vVCeJH6G3-BoWkqDIHht2ZQE6k1EIvqpvyxKoTpHP2QOeBCMy5KUjE2STqDcUTAXSJbA_31wyqqOz0127VfaZXcq7N-o75H6WPPU9DHbijvY9ptDMcXKPhK-PXIxM/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLDmyHtzS39x9j8vVCeJH6G3-BoWkqDIHht2ZQE6k1EIvqpvyxKoTpHP2QOeBCMy5KUjE2STqDcUTAXSJbA_31wyqqOz0127VfaZXcq7N-o75H6WPPU9DHbijvY9ptDMcXKPhK-PXIxM/s320/Moving+to+Durango+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358154890504589394" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jaJQ_jEB8N_19Hwnhgblnni2U5nnR_WEPU46chyFb_V9kMZ6a-fz7-nRZlwVQOisLj3RzLB3IqLi690mSWpTnAWJZnQcnzrB9cpRhGZSCx_8lnhl3Ja5BXAPlapSqEpNsfzUP9U5axM/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jaJQ_jEB8N_19Hwnhgblnni2U5nnR_WEPU46chyFb_V9kMZ6a-fz7-nRZlwVQOisLj3RzLB3IqLi690mSWpTnAWJZnQcnzrB9cpRhGZSCx_8lnhl3Ja5BXAPlapSqEpNsfzUP9U5axM/s320/Moving+to+Durango+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358153861969198418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">In the land of the Mormons...I'm surprised that modesty hasnt gotten the better of this formation.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-OcqhPCsa9CtXSlRU4zwdn80U1XjUQfzKp8aRYVhDDxH9XaHGKn-r7Qbkb3vVDyEl6UTnPBHwZ4q_BZdLs5_JRSwrnN0_RPjgICqvmZSq1CgD4s53-FZffBrunMkxUf1dPCkfFSHT8g/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-OcqhPCsa9CtXSlRU4zwdn80U1XjUQfzKp8aRYVhDDxH9XaHGKn-r7Qbkb3vVDyEl6UTnPBHwZ4q_BZdLs5_JRSwrnN0_RPjgICqvmZSq1CgD4s53-FZffBrunMkxUf1dPCkfFSHT8g/s320/Moving+to+Durango+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358152530131467010" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8tEzmHu9wXGYTJOSX5w92Z6WcRCMkvPOz7NgsGxKHDIh4ofem2NFicJ3Fg38c1yEeooZdITj0biyMKgrELOgJIxOnu7hPlN5kg-VW5-d8GojxoJ6tkt1ZjzjU3cu6c-RLnSqATwiuVs/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+039.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8tEzmHu9wXGYTJOSX5w92Z6WcRCMkvPOz7NgsGxKHDIh4ofem2NFicJ3Fg38c1yEeooZdITj0biyMKgrELOgJIxOnu7hPlN5kg-VW5-d8GojxoJ6tkt1ZjzjU3cu6c-RLnSqATwiuVs/s320/Moving+to+Durango+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358151632608411762" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8SmOgEJmJIcsTcK-W0nmVzpDAxY0kPio1EIsrasxwljvhQelGK92i84dBi8xqf1fmSNj5qWokcLoUNkrJGY_oiwWei2KDFgC9H8vuskdXIKfdU5ToaTjK1O86-tJF9Zb5SN2Yw0o8uU/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+040.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8SmOgEJmJIcsTcK-W0nmVzpDAxY0kPio1EIsrasxwljvhQelGK92i84dBi8xqf1fmSNj5qWokcLoUNkrJGY_oiwWei2KDFgC9H8vuskdXIKfdU5ToaTjK1O86-tJF9Zb5SN2Yw0o8uU/s320/Moving+to+Durango+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358151338198985330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibnNnjPKGzyVqmUj4gMm_XDvZWCyfdz5D0FaeK5wiXo8ZAq9aKSqQacVSXHDCR02BnKrJu0B9MjQTbtqKOj3VXUxOx4sVpTXN-gLCvpTuhi3HsRRemacn00YnmLCiPKe9Qtqed__Xmgok/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+057.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibnNnjPKGzyVqmUj4gMm_XDvZWCyfdz5D0FaeK5wiXo8ZAq9aKSqQacVSXHDCR02BnKrJu0B9MjQTbtqKOj3VXUxOx4sVpTXN-gLCvpTuhi3HsRRemacn00YnmLCiPKe9Qtqed__Xmgok/s320/Moving+to+Durango+057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358150589415030770" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxTpxMEENhGLnpHPoEMttvnKBkRkp7eI7hQ3WmuqQJpVoBO-JuLVCK17chP_tbv8XoDNUXl8R4CXnXxtxej9eviaiVqa4w3dyH6njA9EoZv-7gDLBQs7bhEHA-89e5mT2X4wNZzFdQRI/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+059.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxTpxMEENhGLnpHPoEMttvnKBkRkp7eI7hQ3WmuqQJpVoBO-JuLVCK17chP_tbv8XoDNUXl8R4CXnXxtxej9eviaiVqa4w3dyH6njA9EoZv-7gDLBQs7bhEHA-89e5mT2X4wNZzFdQRI/s320/Moving+to+Durango+059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358149505674705458" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYC6UDx4oiKk2kl6ot3hNXsPkLfWGE_VoElX8NlXCrf1m9RiRWThMAXRKpyDwyVHL_RZkr6-H7vbv4kNZIqNZcuHVZCAjHi6g3h-X0Um18kwZq0BVqJstH3OYKcDHta8xHfZ3rKhhorY/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYC6UDx4oiKk2kl6ot3hNXsPkLfWGE_VoElX8NlXCrf1m9RiRWThMAXRKpyDwyVHL_RZkr6-H7vbv4kNZIqNZcuHVZCAjHi6g3h-X0Um18kwZq0BVqJstH3OYKcDHta8xHfZ3rKhhorY/s320/Moving+to+Durango+066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358145810979481106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Only cool to a geologist.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyd7T6exACdCwIPoAx_Ph6vbDKUdkWdaZTXMcWTaygEIHPcc2rqj-bDaD_T-YRTLEfYtO0XkmGnHlo0jOwKp8Luv1iveCHcBG6Acs_zcTlnJvLF-0dmBp97F3R2H4emfHy4vdUfe_XvFA/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+065.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyd7T6exACdCwIPoAx_Ph6vbDKUdkWdaZTXMcWTaygEIHPcc2rqj-bDaD_T-YRTLEfYtO0XkmGnHlo0jOwKp8Luv1iveCHcBG6Acs_zcTlnJvLF-0dmBp97F3R2H4emfHy4vdUfe_XvFA/s320/Moving+to+Durango+065.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358144371717387666" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Here we are descending through time as the road descends.</span><br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJmsDm96wEU1LE7PXG2TVnhggYnWT7AzgzXyeUjLfxXuaQkJOUeBi0MD7l-b_Ll-X0GMlMCni8LUMpxrXp3bJLuD7E9MeGsg4MvWdzO4CbUqnYlBaHL5m4RmWZZGxbi0O8qdA_1ZxPXV8/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+069.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJmsDm96wEU1LE7PXG2TVnhggYnWT7AzgzXyeUjLfxXuaQkJOUeBi0MD7l-b_Ll-X0GMlMCni8LUMpxrXp3bJLuD7E9MeGsg4MvWdzO4CbUqnYlBaHL5m4RmWZZGxbi0O8qdA_1ZxPXV8/s320/Moving+to+Durango+069.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358142177058681858" border="0" /></a>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-17993296031479459902009-07-13T19:11:00.001-07:002009-07-13T19:43:03.955-07:00The CO leg...<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkwJGyk9ABmCL5nk7XRjhf42F6x7WXNB41yx-KE2Ge4L0WMdjZ8XOI0YoZpXPjkdVexWN4-hAxABrBFCVHLVktlXJPrDSMIXzrp3tgbLNwjMihbgy5N_zV1sLDbTZEpE2Vf9bKmpJBFyY/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+075.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkwJGyk9ABmCL5nk7XRjhf42F6x7WXNB41yx-KE2Ge4L0WMdjZ8XOI0YoZpXPjkdVexWN4-hAxABrBFCVHLVktlXJPrDSMIXzrp3tgbLNwjMihbgy5N_zV1sLDbTZEpE2Vf9bKmpJBFyY/s320/Moving+to+Durango+075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358140222919486434" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;">The drive over the passes is about to begin...(cue ominous music)</span><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXJnW8qFUnDHeEfl-OghxmF7ZfySVYMG-yeWhpOQwY9RS683UzdLdgztpLJ3qDpXoUpQNle7wKAbbV4SHoLi1fRCip81tOH80adbQg56mOrFdllJTO5JuxKUnmhMenYqAdJQGHzlnP_A/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+078.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXJnW8qFUnDHeEfl-OghxmF7ZfySVYMG-yeWhpOQwY9RS683UzdLdgztpLJ3qDpXoUpQNle7wKAbbV4SHoLi1fRCip81tOH80adbQg56mOrFdllJTO5JuxKUnmhMenYqAdJQGHzlnP_A/s320/Moving+to+Durango+078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358139823459432130" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">No, thats not you, the town dips down to the right. I wouldnt want to be drunk here, you might fall off.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhMKNtFc9-roVERGEmwKTyFFAnKF58bxOKnlHGnZsayiwj46VCFL1YJrfHsXtm0LdQ9l9Lzxg9-T68wGkQuOx0xQs4W_HKEQMhhpKm2kq7xVe0lz4itu-OV8TlhE5nivyR89urGWxz7w/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+080.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhMKNtFc9-roVERGEmwKTyFFAnKF58bxOKnlHGnZsayiwj46VCFL1YJrfHsXtm0LdQ9l9Lzxg9-T68wGkQuOx0xQs4W_HKEQMhhpKm2kq7xVe0lz4itu-OV8TlhE5nivyR89urGWxz7w/s320/Moving+to+Durango+080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358138441499041202" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Leaving weird little Oury</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqA1nUnUeAl8b04iNoc745fxyZIDnL5qxhAQo2G4oBNjBXmF3mNvs1Xt8Y6V6L2A_PWUaBMe9hSVoYhtaWJP8L6RUzag3JTeitiuj2tClTi_ESFPy_91dGKjx9QctkWm9j1l1rcpmkEBo/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+091.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqA1nUnUeAl8b04iNoc745fxyZIDnL5qxhAQo2G4oBNjBXmF3mNvs1Xt8Y6V6L2A_PWUaBMe9hSVoYhtaWJP8L6RUzag3JTeitiuj2tClTi_ESFPy_91dGKjx9QctkWm9j1l1rcpmkEBo/s320/Moving+to+Durango+091.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358137785321607026" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Avalanche Protection. Also notice the stream running across the top.</span><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHg_xYPclkW5gz7uy6z5qgQEgHCosWGbmroycx7Q_S0KRmlwyxUywsn7uV-8U_xqS-U0q6TVrt7SYKxUAOWYnnkcPSqRY8Iv-c3XLlWO4rQ_7D8vZN7pF5BO-nw1HJaO_mh-1rxqGgL-o/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHg_xYPclkW5gz7uy6z5qgQEgHCosWGbmroycx7Q_S0KRmlwyxUywsn7uV-8U_xqS-U0q6TVrt7SYKxUAOWYnnkcPSqRY8Iv-c3XLlWO4rQ_7D8vZN7pF5BO-nw1HJaO_mh-1rxqGgL-o/s320/Moving+to+Durango+104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358137188768844450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">MOUNTAINS!!!<br /><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPK8-awcXM050hokJMJNQZMaZFwdtU1vASkgP2uESx_v6GYUBPw_7wCRk6aMcNEjV_iluuaKk93pzSn-PvJPH5ZvxAWMO_bf0Xv-OEi4OSVK8WZ0KVm3h6hrJH__asJRqMCxSFiim-EtQ/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+106.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPK8-awcXM050hokJMJNQZMaZFwdtU1vASkgP2uESx_v6GYUBPw_7wCRk6aMcNEjV_iluuaKk93pzSn-PvJPH5ZvxAWMO_bf0Xv-OEi4OSVK8WZ0KVm3h6hrJH__asJRqMCxSFiim-EtQ/s320/Moving+to+Durango+106.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358136627171386802" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">The road between Ouray and Silverton...the white line was the edge of a large cliff. My mother was really freaked out, especially around the hair pin turns with the 6x12 trailer.<br /><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMQBzKshIxVRt-zQlSbzUeF9JSYFyzsxr0vdna_22BnHxFJUnkGwGXtnrj9TtBwNX7haeZh2tSdWS16dWpYvo_F6yhAq-XguEogtHrqblZSYtBEd6sdeIXSjOcBqjPo9lpnydckje8Qc/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMQBzKshIxVRt-zQlSbzUeF9JSYFyzsxr0vdna_22BnHxFJUnkGwGXtnrj9TtBwNX7haeZh2tSdWS16dWpYvo_F6yhAq-XguEogtHrqblZSYtBEd6sdeIXSjOcBqjPo9lpnydckje8Qc/s320/Moving+to+Durango+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358135995397303858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span><span style="font-family:arial;">This is what Pim did the whole way.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhie6krIb0fDax58a0Gd4F6jOeYwoD5jZX0oT6z4hHLEeN9PJ0kftiglMwo6RUu4_IP5H3DBjTXY8KJlvAyVMKoRoJG7orLa_nuDqZvuXw8e6y1OMwI7uhcoT-Cd_7y3uXBtSYGwKhqn5k/s1600-h/Moving+to+Durango+004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhie6krIb0fDax58a0Gd4F6jOeYwoD5jZX0oT6z4hHLEeN9PJ0kftiglMwo6RUu4_IP5H3DBjTXY8KJlvAyVMKoRoJG7orLa_nuDqZvuXw8e6y1OMwI7uhcoT-Cd_7y3uXBtSYGwKhqn5k/s320/Moving+to+Durango+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358133138026079554" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This is what Eshe thought of the trip...</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-53901272284084520002009-07-12T13:22:00.000-07:002009-07-12T13:44:59.636-07:00Le Tour<span style="font-family: arial;">I sit here watching Le Tour de France, but I am sad. Usually watching the boys clad in candy colored spandex makes me happy. Esp when I can watch it with a roommate/fellow cyclist and we can share stories and swap jabs and cheers about the racers. But not this year. I am missing one of my friends.<br /><br />My friend Matt Edmonds, a wonderful person, avid cyclist, and fellow geologist was killed when a drunk driver hit him and 2 other cyclists on a training ride in Tulsa (a 2nd cyclist was also killed). Matt was a huge fan of cycling. We used to watch the tour in our respective homes/coffee shops and then excitedly recount each stage. He got me to follow the Daphne and the Giro. We shared a fondness for Jan Ulrich and teasingly called Lance the Mighty Uniballed One.<br /><br />But its not just him. KMac, vibrant, silly, and strong; had what could have been a catastrophic accident on June 2nd. She will thankfully recover.<br /><br /> Although I did not know Mr G from Portland Velo personally, my heart still hurts, he was a figure in OBRA and we are a close knit organization, any death hurts all of us. He was taken down by a twig. He fought a valiant fight, but the twig and fractured C2 vertebrae won that fight.<br /><br />Who else? I dont think my heart can handle yet another. I hate this heavy heart. I am ready to be done worrying about my friends and family on their bikes. And I am tired of being sad. So please, my fellow cyclists, ride safe.<br /><br />And finally, may there always be sunny skies, smooth roads and long descents for Matt and Mr G.<br /><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-26209467003651208232009-07-07T22:52:00.000-07:002009-07-07T23:03:22.176-07:00The Rules<span style="font-family: arial;">So there are always rules one has to learn when they move to a new area. Here they are (as far as I can tell) for the Durango area.<br /><br />1) Texans are to Durango what Californians are to Oregon. But worse. They arent kidding when they say everything is bigger in Texas. People, cars, hair, obnoxiousness, and obliviousity (yes I just made that up).<br /><br />2) You must like beer. Which really isnt a problem in my case, but there are the few odd people that might be an issue for.<br /><br />3) Being a mountain biker is no longer special. EVERYBODY mountain bikes out here. I therefore need a new more interesting hobby...skin diving or mountain unicycling, or ultimate pinochle.<br /><br />4) Most people here work at least 2 jobs to afford their ski/mountain bike bum lifestyle.<br /><br />5) And lastly there are at least 3 dudes for every chick here. It makes for easy pickings, girls, come on down!<br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-40785583396374299202009-07-02T10:02:00.000-07:002009-07-07T16:44:23.539-07:00Dearest OBRAland<span style="font-family:arial;">I must say its been a good run.<br /><br />From the very beginning of my cycling career the people who comprise OBRA have made me feel welcomed and encouraged. I've only been racing for a few short seasons now, but all of you who helped me along the way are very much appreciated. I couldnt have gone as far as I have without you all.<br /><br />I am sorry that I wont easily be able to race in Oregon for many years to come. I just moved to <a href="http://www.durango.org/">Durango CO</a> for an AmeriCorps position working with the <a href="http://www.hardrockteam.org/">Western Hardrock Watershed Team</a>. We are doing watershed management in rural and ex mining towns that have issues with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acid_mine_drainage">acid mine drainage</a>. We help mitigate these problems while rebuilding the strength of the community through a connection to the river and the history of the area. It is awesome. So far, 2 weeks into it, I love my job and my new town. The people here are amazing and are very appreciative of the work<br /><br />Although this is a great opportunity and will lead me to super awesome places (like an MS and a PhD and a career) I am still sad to have to leave behind all the wonderful people who are OBRA. I am going to miss racing at some of the most beautiful places, the mud (yes I said it, I miss the mud - I actually aimed for a puddle the other day on the trail), and all the ladies that make racing so damn hard.<br /><br />So, thank you OBRA. You will be missed.<br /><br />I'd also like to give a special shout out to the ladies of the <a href="http://wvwcycling.org/">Poplollies</a> for putting up with my mountain bike antics on the road. And to <a href="http://www.peaksportscorvallis.com/">Peak Sports/Team Dirt/Gregg Rouse/Mike Ripley/Chris Brandt</a> for helping me make this season a great mtn bike season. And especially Ripley for not upgrading me to a Cat 1 before I moved. :D<br /><br />Though this training at 6500' elevation will hopefully come in handy when I do see you all on a bike again.<br /><br />~Miriam<br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-72286657712586884312009-06-10T11:08:00.000-07:002009-06-10T12:35:03.762-07:00Pickett's Charge Race Report<span style="font-family:arial;">I am leaving on the 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> to SW Colorado, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Durango</span> in fact. So Pickett's Charge was my last race in Oregon for at least 14 months, if not several years. Pickett's is my favorite course in all of Oregon mountain biking. I'm glad that my favorite course was my last race.<br /><br />Whenever I warm up, especially at elevation, I always feel awful. Legs wont turn over well, stomach is all upset, mind wandering all over the place. I force myself to just do it, because I know it'll hurt more if I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">dont</span>. It was with a little bit of a heavy heart that I lined up with the other Cat 2 ladies. I have been having a great season, so I was excited to really give it a go and see what I could do; though sad that I am going to miss all of this and all the women I see every few weeks.<br /><br />So the "gun" (really it is an official who counts down into a loud speaker) and I punch it. I just go. Michelle and I are in the front, we had great starts. I keep up the pace, but it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">doesnt</span> feel very fast at all. I feel like a slug actually. I am expecting the field to swarm around me any second. They <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">dont</span>. I look over my shoulder and to my grand surprise there is NOBODY there. I can see the rest of the field, maybe 20-30 seconds behind me. What the hell? I'm first into the single track?!? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Thats</span> never <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">happened</span> before. This is super awesome, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">dont</span> have to worry about passing people! Oh wait, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">thats</span> right, I have to worry about people riding up on me and trying to pass me. Ugh. So my entire thought process at this point is "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">dont</span> screw this up, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">dont</span> screw this up!"<br /><br />I get to the first technical section. Oh man. I've not ridden my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">mtn</span> bike much in the last 3 weeks, opting for the speed of the road bike instead. I rolled over the first set of sharp poky rocks just fine. I cheered for myself. Still in the lead with one lady (Karen from Bend Bike N Sport) behind me I hit the 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">nd</span> technical section. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">didnt</span> have enough speed, which means I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">couldnt</span> easily roll over the rocks. I got my front wheel hung up and that knocked me down. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">wasnt</span> really moving, which makes me feel even more stupid. I whack my left hip and left elbow pretty well. I see blood, but its not dripping so get back up. Or I should say I TRY to get back up, in doing so I stepped on the rocks with the heel of my right shoe. Not having any traction I lost my footing and hit the deck again, but this time with my right elbow. Great. I'm so damn graceful. All sorts of other women stream by me.<br /><br />The rest of the race (15 of the 19 mile or so) go off with out much of a hitch. I slow down for sure in some spots. The course makes it very hard to eat, even to grab a gel that are tucked up in the leg of my shorts. I take a few pulls of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Cytomax</span> (energy drink) from the bottle and some water from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Camelback</span>. The course <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">isnt</span> super technical, but just twisty <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">turny</span>. Very speed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">controlled</span>. At one point a girl tries to pass me when we are walking over non-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">rideable</span> stuffs and she knocks me over (though it was an accident, I lost my full pack of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Clif</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Bloks</span> and dropped my chain - so I lost time, again). I am now pissed. I chase her down. I can tell I'm low on calories. I hope I can maintain and not bonk. Then all of the sudden we pop out at the T junction where we turn back on the fire road towards the finish. YES! I throw it in my big ring and push it HARD. I have a 1-1.5 miles to go. I can give it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">everything</span>. And I can see this woman who knocked me down. I want her.<br /><br />I power down the fire road. I finally have the woman close enough to give it a go, but we are 50m and closing from the finish chicane. I dig DEEP. We have to take a 90 degree left turn into the finish <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">chute</span>. But we are going from compacted dirt to thick deep gravel, this could be a disaster - but hey wiping out at the finish is better than at mile 5! She turns and I swing wide into the corner, Tokyo <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">drifting</span> as I go. I punch it for the last time and come into the finish hot. The officials and organizers are standing around pulling tags and are motioning to me to slow down. So I grab the brakes hard and slide sideways on the deep gravel into the finish. Not quite as good as a one handed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">wheelie</span>. But I'll take it.<br /><br />I thought I was like 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">th</span>-3rd. I can never tell in the Cat 2s (aka Sport) since there is a Masters 35+ and an Open 18-34. We all have the same tag color. So I'm standing around, changing, eating. Getting my elbow cleaned out by the very bored cute medic on site. I wander over to look at what placing I got. 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">nd</span>!?!??!??? Holy crap, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">batkids</span>! I ended up 3 minutes behind the leader. Between crashing and being knocked over/chain drop I could have contested that. But <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">thats</span> how racing goes. All sorts of what ifs and and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">woulda</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">couldas</span>. But I'll take 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">nd</span>. Esp after crashing and not eating.<br /><br />I know now I'm probably being called the sand <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">bagger</span>. I would upgrade if I was not moving to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">mtn</span> biking heaven. I make no promises to be even remotely competitive out there.<br /><br />I love mountain biking.<br /><br />Pictures coming soon.<br /><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-9009418266129446972009-05-26T13:21:00.001-07:002009-05-26T14:45:54.211-07:00Spring Thaw 2009<span style="font-family:arial;">Yea yea, slightly out of logical order, since the was was on the 16th. Only 10 days late.<br /><br />The weather persons called for a high near 90 in Ashland. When my start time came around it was sunny and warm. Two of my favorite weather terms, ever. So Spring Thaw is a true climber's course. About 10 miles up gravel roads, 8 miles across a rolling with a slight descent gravel/fire roads, and then the rest of the 24 mile course down hill on single track and downhillers course.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Everybody lined up super early when I was warming up. All the category 2 fields and single speeders were started in a mass start, and I got stuck at the way back. Whoops. I think to myself, great, now I have to try to pass all these ya-hoos. Surprisingly enough, it was easier than expected. I just kept the pace high and rode what was comfortable for me. I pass Michelle (Team Dirt) and Jenny (www.webcyclery.com) who was glued to the back of Michelle's wheel. Michelle hops on my wheel and we off we go. I look back occasionally and see Jenny still there, so I turn up the pace just a tad. Soon we drop her. Soon we drop everybody, all the masters men battling it out for their world championship title every week, all the single dudes. We are climbing forever. I keep trying to visualize where we are on the map in my head and the spot that is me, is moving so very slowly compared to the size of the course. Ugh.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Michelle comes around me, I hop on her wheel, but she keeps cranking it up. My brain only screams why? I stay there for a couple of miles, but I have gotten bored on the gravel only climb and I'm having a hard time making myself care enough to stay with her. I let her and the couple of guys she was towing go. I find my own entourage of masters men to tow up the hill. We have jovial conversations about cycling and the like. Well <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> have jovial conversations, they are mostly grunting or wheezing at me. I hear one of them call me an animal on the only steep single track section. I respond back that no, I'm just 50lbs lighter than them so I have less to haul up a hill. That probably didnt make them any happier - I wasnt calling them fat, just pointing out that they are average to tall dudes, and I'm a mostly petite female. I dont know what it is, but this year I really feel like climbing and I have become close friends.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOT8HRlhwzieSsd0BAGbMzZSdCsGT3laxDGDeMhXVyAsQvBSxve-je3R1GdocdwIN8Eslt5tVVliRsE-jQ5guJeMDrsNiymM3r1IY06v7OL2cO1yPu8RULyOsAH8xjE9mcokVb7IIjGEs/s1600-h/IMG_7428.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOT8HRlhwzieSsd0BAGbMzZSdCsGT3laxDGDeMhXVyAsQvBSxve-je3R1GdocdwIN8Eslt5tVVliRsE-jQ5guJeMDrsNiymM3r1IY06v7OL2cO1yPu8RULyOsAH8xjE9mcokVb7IIjGEs/s320/IMG_7428.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340251573719688306" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">I finally get to the top! I dont have a watch or a speedometer or even a heart rate monitor on at this point. I'm just going. The side hill gravel road was in great shape, had a slight net decent of a 2-4%. Big ring time. Nobody in sight for the most part, couple of dudes who pop out of the woods and FLY by me. So I keep on trucking at my </span><span style="font-family:arial;">pace. I'm singing the Eel's "Mr. E's Beautiful Blues" (dont ask, I'm weird, and mostly it was the refrain of "Goddamn right its a beautiful day!") and grinning. I feel good, I've had enough to eat, I feel strong. I am going to decimate this race. I know it. I pedal harder.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />I get to the downhill section. I was worried about this. My usual weakness is the descending part. I tend to be timid and over use my brakes. So I made pact with myself: Since I was feeling good and had plenty of calories in me I would go as hard as I could. I would let off the brakes, and let my bike do what it is supposed to do - ride over obstacles in my way. I giggled the whole way down. I kept off the brakes as much as possible and I hardly got passed by any of the guys behind me. I was wishing on parts of the course that I had full suspension. My legs started to cramp when I had my right foot forward too often. So I taught/forced myself to do it with the left forward (I'm totally 100% left footed, I snowboard goofy, and on the mtb when my left foot is back, I can control the bike much easier). I kept it upright until some young kid came bombing down the hill out of control, I let him pass but he wiped out on a sandy corner directly in front of me. I either</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> ate it, or I ran over him. I ate it.<br /><br />So I get down into town. I have to finish on the road. As I'm hauling ASS on the road, so idiot in a mini van (go figure) backs up and turns to go down the road too. Except he has no clue that there is a bike race happening. So he is going down the hill at below the posted speed limit and braking into the corners. I am desperate to get around this dude, but I am not going to pass on blind corners. So I bide my time and get around the moron. I finish at 2:31. Michelle finishes 5 minutes before I do (probably due to that dumb van).<br /><br />We both win our categories (Michelle is in the 35+ Cat 2, I'm in the under 35 Cat 2)! I won by huge amounts of time. And by huge I mean over 30 minutes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />It wasnt the hardest or even the most mtn bikey course I've ever ridden. But it still felt good to win. I am going to try to do that from now on. Well until I get upgraded that is.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyEgdKOioD4TYq4WNykLeTWqyBJWBp_XUANOqqyL2C_A339Axn2uhcNS2A4-l5M1UQGZCOlOnFmrjySgLgTvUznL2c0BONuw0xLyaUTCSpEGAgVWf06UgjxMFfGn0UAeKRdUfMV2TE8is/s1600-h/IMG_7444.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyEgdKOioD4TYq4WNykLeTWqyBJWBp_XUANOqqyL2C_A339Axn2uhcNS2A4-l5M1UQGZCOlOnFmrjySgLgTvUznL2c0BONuw0xLyaUTCSpEGAgVWf06UgjxMFfGn0UAeKRdUfMV2TE8is/s320/IMG_7444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340249624205185986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Podium Shot</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-87688227151105926772009-05-23T08:14:00.000-07:002009-05-23T12:25:48.340-07:00Changes<span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span>, so after a long hiatus, I am back. Many things have changed. All for the better (if not scarier).<br /><br />I had a long fun vacation to NYC, lots of shopping, goofing off, 3am bowling (free frames with pitches), and spending time with good friends. After I got back, work changed, all of the sudden I became the target of all of management's criticism. Apparently doing everything for everybody, setting up the new procurement system, managing budgets, and generally making sure the office and lab ran smoothly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wasnt</span> quite up to snuff. So in early May I got fired.<br /><br />This may sound bad, but it really isn't. Well I could use the cash, but I'm so unstressed about work. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders after I walked away from that place. Ah. I am/was however pissed for the lame <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">assed</span> excuses of "under performance". Call a spade a spade and tell me the real reasons. Like budgets. I saw my old position posted on CL and it was for a part time person, 20-30 hrs a week. I want to know why they are doing that, if I was working 50 hrs a week and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wasnt</span> able to get things done, how is someone doing 20 hrs going even get close? Just setting up another person for failure. Really <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">thats</span> the saddest part.<br /><br />Prior to my shit-canning I was looking at other options. I knew I needed out. I knew my soul was dying a small amount <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">everytime</span> I was there. So not having any practical experience as a Geologist. Not wanting to work in an office again (or until I left for grad school next year), and needing the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">frick</span> out of Eugene, I looked into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">AmeriCorps</span> (spurned partly by a friend who is entering Peace Corps). Success! There are tons and tons of positions that I could use my science skills meshed with my ability to network, and human interaction. I had probably about 13 interviews...screening interviews, interviews with managers, with other <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">AmeriCorps</span> members. I had some seriously awesome interviews (all over the phone). Mostly because I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">wasnt</span> nervous and I was excited about this next step.<br /><br />I got a job offer from Butte MT working for The National Center for Appropriate Technology (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">NCAT</span> www.ncat.org ). I would have been working with low income people to get them energy efficient appliances, weatherize their houses, and teach environmental stewardship through energy conservation. It sounded like a cool job.<br /><br />But the one I really really wanted was a watershed management position. I applied to ones on the East Coast (coal belt Appalachia) and in Colorado/Montana. I interviewed 3x with the Western <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Hardrock</span> Watershed Team www.hardrockteam.org and I got the position! Woo! I wont just be standing out in a stream/river some place. I will help open a couple of new offices in NM and CO. So I'll be networking with other watershed groups, education groups, other <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">AmeriCorps</span> members, and small <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">mtn</span> communities. It'll be challenging and stressful at times, but I think it'll be really a great position. My boss is super duper awesome. The 2 other girls I'll work closely with are very cool, funny, and nice.<br /><br />I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">sooo</span> excited! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Weeee</span>!<br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-67195205488347353482009-04-02T07:09:00.001-07:002009-04-02T07:11:33.402-07:00AHHHHHHHHHHHHH...<span style="font-family:arial;">....HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH<br />HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH<br /><br />Ok carry on. Nothing to see here. Only a small pint sized woman flailing her arms about and hopping up and down in frustration. Occasionally work really pisses you off.<br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-11465461811552297592009-03-16T21:43:00.000-07:002009-03-16T21:46:35.813-07:00All Things Dino<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.typetees.com//product/636x636/1736-tee_large.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 636px; height: 636px;" src="http://media.typetees.com//product/636x636/1736-tee_large.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I need this.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-56283875276456350812009-03-16T21:33:00.000-07:002009-03-16T21:43:25.538-07:00You know what......<span style="font-family: arial;">is awesome? When you're an employed adult and with out asking you father buys you groceries. I love my father.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-15018745136145876992009-03-08T13:26:00.000-07:002009-03-08T15:16:26.495-07:00Der Blogity Blog<span style="font-family:arial;">So yea, apparently I've been lacking in my blog updation. Sorry. Well not really. I havent had much to yak about lately.<br /><br />Work: Yea, still (and forever - I blame my parents for my work ethic) working 50+ hour weeks to get our SAP system up and running. Its almost there. Almost. Maybe I'll be able to leave before 6:30 one of these days. But I guess I cant really complain too much since I do have a job. But still I dont want to work THAT hard all the time.<br /><br />Cycling: I am attempting to train. I've discovered that although I love to ride my bike, and I do like racing, I hate training inside on the rollers/trainer. I mean who doesnt, but good god this is getting old. Its March. I want to be outside. I want the sun on my cheeks and the wind in my hair (through the helmet of course). I've done a few races lately, Cherry Pie and Sublime Sublimity. Race reports to follow.<br /><br />-Cherry Pie: Oh man I almost chickened out. I HATE HATE HATE racing in the rain. Actually hate is not strong enough of a word. The weather called for nastiness all day. I found a ride, so of course I then had to go. So I did. It was sunny and warm. I was hot with my arm warmers and leg warmers and booties. Hot. Yes in Feb. Hot. I was loving it. And then I had to race. Because there are so few women in the 1/2/3 categories in the state, we all get to race together. Usually we get scored separately. Which is good, since there is a massive difference between a 2 and a 3. 3s are just strong 4s with endurance. Really. I'm a 3, its not that hard to upgrade (obviously). However, the 2s actually have to have some ambition. They have to put a lot of time in the saddle. They have to race outside Oregon (since there are a whole 15 1/2s in the state). So anyways, I'm warm and sweating on a nice Feb afternoon. I'm flying the colors of my new team: <a href="http://www.thepoplollies.com/miriam.php"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Poplollies</span></a>. The 12 woman peloton stays together for the 1st lap. Theraputic Associates has a butt load of women (Lisa, Karey, Jessi, Jacquie, Pam, and a 6th). They keep sending off attacks. Nobody wants to cover, so Jen (Group Health), Molly (Land Shark), Lindsay (unattached) and I do a lot of the covering. I eat a little. Not enough. Lisa rails it up the finishing hill. This hill is hard. Very hard. I shouldnt have let them out front. I should have taken more wind to keep the TA girls from dominating the front of the race. But its just me, none of the other Poplollies could make it to the 3 race. I cant cover a whole team. So Lisa, Jacquie, Libby, Karey, and Jen form a break. Molly and I chase, we catch Pam and continue to chase. We are hauling ass, giving everything we have. They are sooooo close. And then they arent. Then they disappear over the next hill. Finally Lindsay, Molly and I convince Pam and Jessi to actually work. We all work together. Its fun now, we are just rolling along in a nice pace line. Chatting. Giggling. Oh crap, we have 10 more miles. Shit I havent eaten enough I can feel it. We gap Lindsay. At 2k to go they turn up the tempo and I'm done. My 15lb bike feels like 40 in my easiest gear. I finish it up, I cant hang with the other girls, but I dont want Lindsay to come up. I roller her in. Done. 6th place. I guess that words for it being mid Feb. There are some strong girls in the peloton. I know this is going to be a hard year. And I'm looking forward to May when I actually have some endurance and recovery and speed. And probably the next time I sweat again outside.<br /><br />-Sublime Sublimity. PG 13 Rating.<br />I went up with Erin K and Michelle of the Poplollies. Erin was representin' in the 4s and Michelle and I were rolling out with the 3s. The day looked threatening. But again the weather held out. Yea! That was the highlight of the day. Really. I hear snippets and reports about how hard it is prior to our start. About how the course description and the actual race are vastly different. Unsettling? Yes. So at the start I realized I've locked my gloves in Erin's car. Oy. Ok so I get that straightened away. Then they tell us we are not going to get be scored separately. WTH? Seriously, there are like 13 women. How hard can this be. The promoters say its up to the officials and the officials say its up to the promoters (which it is). I'm already annoyed. This is not a good start. They say something about taking both lanes on a decent to make a hard 90 corner. So we're off. Veloforma is there, en force. Karey and Jessi from TA, Michelle and I, Jen from Group Health and a few others. We hit the first 'roller' aka wall. Oh man this is going to be hard. Where the hell did this come from? Up and over, and again and again and again. Holy hell. My mind is baffled, how exactly am I supposed to do 4 laps of this. I am internally laughing at the 700' of elevation gain/lap they advertised. I dont have anything fancy, but I have been around long enough to recognize a blatant lie when I see one. We start the largest climb. We are going ~7mph. Jesus H. Christ. In a race?!??! So we hit the decent. Its clear, open, roads are perfect. I tuck (and let me tell you, little people can tuck). I hit 43mph. This is a new record. I pop up over the last little roller in the decent and see a T in the road. Oh F@*K! I yell. I have a steep 500m or so to slow myself down to take this corner. This has a very high potential for being bad. Very bad. I hit the brakes, HARD. Fishtail #1. I get into a cycle of braking into a fishtail letting go and then repeating. I must have fishtailed 4-6 separate occasions. Its a good thing I spend most of last year mtn biking...or I would have left a large portion of my epidermis on the road. So the girls who made it around the corner a little safer than I form a break. Damn. Now its is the majority of us 3s in the chase group. Michelle, Steph (Veloforma), Jessi, someone else, and myself. We start to chase. This is my life on a road bike. Always in the chase group. Steph refuses to work, since 2 of her teammates are behind us, and she wants help, and one is up the road in the break. Nobody realizes this until it is too late and the other 2 Veloforma girls catch. Crap. Luckily one of them gets a flat shortly into lap 2 and the other stays back to help her. Sweet. We roll along. Steph still doing very little work, the rest of us actually trying. Michelle and I dont really have a plan. We just want to finish. If we wanted we could try group tactics I guess, but there are only 2 of us in a 5 person group. 2nd lap is uneventful. Same pain. Same vile thoughts towards the promoters. The 3rd lap comes, I cant believe I have this +1 more to do. I'm dying. Almost out of liquids. None of the girls are talking - we're all suffering internally now. I drop back to the follow official. We're 2 hours 30-45 mins into it. If we do another lap its going to be almost dark by the time we finish. I ask if the race can be shortened. About 10 minutes later comes the word that it is. Yes! Small victory. I pussy foot it down the decent. I get gapped by the other girls. Michelle and I chase and chase and chase. She is strong but saying she is cooked. Michelle is working her ass off to get me back to that group. Every time she comes around and I get a draft, I am forever thankful. We get closer and closer. I get with in 25'. But crap, its a hill. I have nothing in the tank. Off the group goes. Michelle has popped. Its just me now. I have miles to the finish. I just keep telling myself over this hill. And now this hill. I see the finishers coming back down. They look like ghosts..eyes a little dead..soul a little crushed. I finally get to the turn off for the finish. Rollers. Ugh. Ok so I get over the first couple and then I see it: a wall. A wall so high and so steep it looks like its coming up and arching over me. Help me Jesus, help me Allah, help me Jewish God, help me Oprah. 20%. I finish. On my feet. Slightly in protest of how goddamned steep and unnecessary it was and slightly because I didnt want to fall over. Michelle does the same. I know why people looked like ghosts...I know I look the same way. I cheer for <a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" href="http://everydayathleteblog.com/">Heidi</a> and <a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" href="http://www.climberchica.blogspot.com/">Eryn B</a> as they are headed towards the finish. They will need it.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-11326325460335079582009-01-31T08:36:00.000-08:002009-01-31T08:37:27.662-08:00Dra-ma<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a1Y73sPHKxw&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a1Y73sPHKxw&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-52375477980408867122009-01-30T19:41:00.000-08:002009-01-30T19:48:36.178-08:00My morning commute<span style="font-family: arial;">I know I've bitched a lot about my commute and the idiots I have to deal with. But this is amazing. It truly was just appalling.<br /><br />I've just pulled out on the the road. I'm headed west. To my right is some basic housing and smaller side streets with, you guessed it, more single family/duplex housing. To the left is a school. I'm rolling along in my tiny geared fixie. There is an old lady in a mu mu with some mangy assed dog with her. The neighbors apparently had not taken their garbage cans in from Thursday pickup. I'm maybe 10ish feet from the old lady who's walking the dog. She gets to the garbage cans and pushes them over into the street. I dont hear much as I'm franticlly trying not to hit them and swerve into traffic. But something about "that'll teach em".<br /><br />I dont know if she was referring to me or the neighbors but it was the closest I've ever come to giving an old person the bird.<br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-90904359881250179162009-01-30T19:35:00.000-08:002009-01-30T19:41:32.879-08:00Stuff<span style="font-family: arial;">So aside from working my ass off at work (we're talking ~50hr weeks for all of Jan). I've decided I should probably start training again. Well if I dont want to come in dead last all the time. And I dont like being last so...that leads to the having to ride my bike for more than just to and from work.<br /><br />Collin's Shop team folded so I was on the hunt for a road team. I will be riding for Team Dirt for mtn bike. But I wanted some teammates and people to train with for the road. I missed most of the road season last year, I was uber busy with school so training was pretty nil and the mtb season conflicted with the road season. So this year, I think I'd like to balance it out with closer to 50-50 road/mtb. So I joined the Poplollies. We are the only all women's race team in the southern valley. And I have some wonderful teammates with some serious horsepower. It ought to be awesome.<br /><br />I'm pumped about racing this year. No homework, no school. Just me and the bike. Woo hoo!<br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-85892542805725573902008-12-20T11:38:00.000-08:002008-12-20T11:41:32.096-08:00Big 3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiQhqGyGBbO9X5TqSgm3qWG79lGvrNDsLiu8z89gdpEoYCzYGtMB3gwflHPd1MomSPDGo3RFlyw9gM_C9pMB60mV6OTdQg2ZYRQExdvE9ClJJbNZ2yKGKl_ViRQ0fj_bJRdV71W_EMfCY/s1600-h/buy-our-crap.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiQhqGyGBbO9X5TqSgm3qWG79lGvrNDsLiu8z89gdpEoYCzYGtMB3gwflHPd1MomSPDGo3RFlyw9gM_C9pMB60mV6OTdQg2ZYRQExdvE9ClJJbNZ2yKGKl_ViRQ0fj_bJRdV71W_EMfCY/s320/buy-our-crap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281959724129739778" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://thedanzatap.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/buy-our-crap.jpg"><br /></a>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-36703338953757920832008-11-26T23:05:00.000-08:002008-11-26T23:21:21.425-08:00wtf<span style="font-family:arial;">So the other morning I saw one of these:<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_djqWhkpEX0h0A2MxJyC7xNZLl7uFiiwi7lhNX0CtaeOSzTUOvpV-bCmMTCmmZkiBPfGsbPeWPsilUhV1MV8d4jXiIWg-DOGIpuw9GrsFycOJX7Dslkyho9as-zKhUD4wew0zRSgUPzM/s1600-h/8994.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_djqWhkpEX0h0A2MxJyC7xNZLl7uFiiwi7lhNX0CtaeOSzTUOvpV-bCmMTCmmZkiBPfGsbPeWPsilUhV1MV8d4jXiIWg-DOGIpuw9GrsFycOJX7Dslkyho9as-zKhUD4wew0zRSgUPzM/s320/8994.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273233298393782050" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Hauling something akin to the wooden object to the right:<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbDKvVwFQ_zTj5tHQHbnY7b22JwF7TqwUFXI9bcjoLNBl1b5TbsgurJhyphenhyphenb7u_zT4qrqdm6x4Y2isc_i_LLu0HWIET_zcj0zYQ0zg0iKgK_tZe-mOENBVadZmES833UoCW2CY86sLwfPs/s1600-h/trailer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbDKvVwFQ_zTj5tHQHbnY7b22JwF7TqwUFXI9bcjoLNBl1b5TbsgurJhyphenhyphenb7u_zT4qrqdm6x4Y2isc_i_LLu0HWIET_zcj0zYQ0zg0iKgK_tZe-mOENBVadZmES833UoCW2CY86sLwfPs/s320/trailer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273233497668809522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It was odd.</span><br /></div>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-57686178593017979952008-11-23T10:17:00.000-08:002008-11-23T11:32:17.194-08:00Pycho Cross #3<span style="font-family:arial;">Half the reason I dont race cross on a regular basis is the mud. I hate mud. It gets all over everything, messes up the bike. Destroys parts. Gets everywhere and takes hours of time post-racing of dealing with.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But on dry days I will attempt cross. Note: I do not have a cross bike (I feel if I di</span><span style="font-family:arial;">d</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> have one, I'd have to take cross a lot more seriously - which I cant quite stomach), and have only ever practiced</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> dismounting and remounting once. I can now dismount my bike pretty ok like, but I stutter when I tr</span><span style="font-family:arial;">y to hop on the bike. Not to mention I dont like banging my lady parts on the saddle (I know thats now how its</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> supposed to work, but </span><span style="font-family:arial;">re-read the above, I've spent a whole 40 minutes outside of races doing that).</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />So yesterday was Psycho Cross #3, put on the by the lovely Sal, who may actually be thinner than I am (he is, however, significantly taller). Sal loves to torture us. Women's races are 45 mins. The course was so long </span><span style="font-family:arial;">that we only did 3 laps. The leaders could have done 4, but that would have been 50-55mins for the race, and the last girls would have been out there for an hour+. So 3 laps it was. Which was fine, because I wasnt too excited to do 4. There was pretty much everything. Barriers, sustained running (gross), run up, baby head rocks, single track, peanut butter mud, fields, winter crops, puddles, sand and descent. It took us about 12-13 minutes per lap. Yes thats long. I mean it took the men A 9-9:30 per lap. So its not like I was walking or anything.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />So I get the hole shot (haha, that one of my favorite phrases). But give it up quickly as I didnt want to be the first one through the peanut butter mud. Oh well. The one A girl and the B sandbaggers were much faster than I was. Not to mention they have cross bikes and dismount/remount skills.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />I caught one, she dropped her chain, and was trying very hard to get it back on. So I drilled it. Got a gap on her, but she made her way back up to me. I held her off for just over a lap (thanks to the fatty tires and my low weight in the mud) until we got to the last barrier, where I didnt get the front wheel up quite high enough, tagged the barrier, and then tripped over it. In the process of doing all that I managed to drive the end of my handle bars directly into my ear. Note: I dont recommend this. She killed and got a gap on me.<br /><br />I rode a clean last lap and came in 4th in the Bs. And 5th overall (out of 15ish). So thats not too bad. I have dirt riding abilities, but obviously no barrier skills. The one thing that made me most proud was the fact that nobody passed me on the running section. Oh and the fact that I could ride the run-up.<br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXS9X7YNarIKwAis4kb00zzmaD2J4G5lXX2unAiEW1Nv6J_a3TuVqOFt89m9ncVsHOathmwqMYXpsVSi1by3D34Bxnpf3zaJcZadPIOhHe3R5XV-iCiodwn41d2tZLK90yHfxfuMsKx8/s1600-h/Psycho+Cross+%233+2008+038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXS9X7YNarIKwAis4kb00zzmaD2J4G5lXX2unAiEW1Nv6J_a3TuVqOFt89m9ncVsHOathmwqMYXpsVSi1by3D34Bxnpf3zaJcZadPIOhHe3R5XV-iCiodwn41d2tZLK90yHfxfuMsKx8/s320/Psycho+Cross+%233+2008+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271937347984004594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;">I rarely use that part of my head.<br /></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-57020531743209712122008-11-18T18:44:00.000-08:002008-11-18T19:37:23.848-08:00Mercedes Benz<span style="font-family:arial;">So why is it that Mercedes Benz SUV drivers seem to be total <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">asshats</span>? Is it the fact they feel special because they have an extra-expensive gas guzzler? Or is it the people who are willing to spend 48-55,000 (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">MSRP</span>) on an SUV that you cant even drive over a curb, are the most important people on the face of the planet? Whatever it is these people on their cell phones in these things really chap my hide.<br /><br />I'm going to work yesterday. There is a big intersection a couple of blocks from my house that has no bike lane through it. There are bike lanes leading up to it, but the intersection is old and there <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wasnt</span> enough room to expand the intersection. Whatever there are loads of bike merge signs. Its a 2 lanes each way with a protected left turn lane.<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=29th+Ave+and+willamette+Eugene+oregon&sll=44.024638,-123.090713&sspn=0.007483,0.020342&g=29th+Ave+and+willamette+Eugene+oregon&ie=UTF8&ll=44.033925,-123.086529&spn=0.007483,0.020342&t=h&z=14&iwloc=addr&output=embed&s=AARTsJqedur3kC-tWVIWXxkxeaAn9aXgZg"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=29th+Ave+and+willamette+Eugene+oregon&sll=44.024638,-123.090713&sspn=0.007483,0.020342&g=29th+Ave+and+willamette+Eugene+oregon&ie=UTF8&ll=44.033925,-123.086529&spn=0.007483,0.020342&t=h&z=14&iwloc=addr&source=embed" style="color:#0000FF;text-align:left">View Larger Map</a></small><br /><br />So I take the right lane, I wait for the light. Yes people like to turn right on the red light. But I've hugged the curb before and been cut off too many times by people running late to do that. So Monday am, I'm sitting there enjoying the sunshine waiting for my coffee to really kick in, and I hear a noise behind me. I look over and see this metallic navy blue M Class Mercedes SUV straddling the stripped line between lanes inching towards me.<br /><br />I'm confused. What in the hell is going on. So I look at him with a quizzical look. Give him the palms up <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">WTF</span> gesture. He smiles and waves. All the while on his cell phone. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Whatev</span>. Its quiet for a little bit then I hear his studded snow tires (because the 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">WD</span> in an SUV <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">isnt</span> enough to get to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">mtn</span>) creep up again. I look over and give him the same <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">WTF</span> look. He continues to creep up on my space. I point to myself and I point to where I'm standing.<br /><br />So the light changes. And we're off. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Ok</span> so I get the hole shot (yes I'm always racing - and yes that ALWAYS sounds dirty). Then Mr MB SUV driver is on my ass revving his engine. He flies around me at significantly faster than the speed limit. The best part is when he turns around makes eye contact with me (yes still on the cell) and smiles and waves.<br /><br />So this dude was trying to "squeeze" in my lane at the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">intersection</span>. Not to turn right, I might have had a bit of understanding. But no, this guy was going straight <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">thru</span>, in a 2 lane intersection with nobody in the adjacent lane.<br /><br />I guess I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">dont</span> need coffee in the am with drivers like that.<br /><br /><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-43524768002702177792008-11-12T22:36:00.000-08:002008-11-15T19:20:38.632-08:00Picture montage of the last few months.<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Add your own favorite montage music. Maybe Eye of the Tiger.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQr2Dt-krwS8V3W_oGl4tfOKAGHP_wXYUeKe_oBtQvClqF6H_lzNHj0RDn-L4NJOigCR3CjhWejB4eegUIPjlkdVLWyVUq384VP4KADgvUhtMXugGVVBZVKGJM8hpfqHl14z1QwntFeuE/s1600-h/Kittens+017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQr2Dt-krwS8V3W_oGl4tfOKAGHP_wXYUeKe_oBtQvClqF6H_lzNHj0RDn-L4NJOigCR3CjhWejB4eegUIPjlkdVLWyVUq384VP4KADgvUhtMXugGVVBZVKGJM8hpfqHl14z1QwntFeuE/s320/Kittens+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269089520919195442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Pim modeling the chicken costume.</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4QGOZmim2NacTqQLGs49XleqA43L2Q_qJHX2wISVkVmof5FTFDNTZyND0U8uuovdxv45QJhP2B4a3-iDDQeVzACTTfYTQ4PoZ0oO_nCn-JniEgmp78p8yeKczKDqR92gP0FaJrDNa2Ls/s1600-h/Kittens+014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4QGOZmim2NacTqQLGs49XleqA43L2Q_qJHX2wISVkVmof5FTFDNTZyND0U8uuovdxv45QJhP2B4a3-iDDQeVzACTTfYTQ4PoZ0oO_nCn-JniEgmp78p8yeKczKDqR92gP0FaJrDNa2Ls/s320/Kittens+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269082706930595362" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Eshe all dressed up for Halloween</span><br /></div></div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPojkXSjbMk_lS4n7iTZbeL2jPbjx3KZWGkUNpJX1wlqzLUIfQFb5NrL0bwC6qK6ixua5JioKunXiJND5NXlT-37Y4_PgjDXw4DlR7MaAXBY7wM1ewGlhvFjC4vUmo2TfvaxOrD2o88c/s1600-h/Astoria+Cross+Crusade+2008+023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPojkXSjbMk_lS4n7iTZbeL2jPbjx3KZWGkUNpJX1wlqzLUIfQFb5NrL0bwC6qK6ixua5JioKunXiJND5NXlT-37Y4_PgjDXw4DlR7MaAXBY7wM1ewGlhvFjC4vUmo2TfvaxOrD2o88c/s320/Astoria+Cross+Crusade+2008+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269079168768010706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Halloween Cross Race - Little Red Riding Hood</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbqziCjP1sXSicbjIpm5ic9AgkmgHro9gOYkL8d3WY8AcR6DN_38EZX9ymPGp1OR-p2i_W5DAGb7KdW-TacbdUIGKaBQpKfVO7QxTMbRntLhn0kxAU5blVwFwMjV7lmQauE1-xEYNndI/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbqziCjP1sXSicbjIpm5ic9AgkmgHro9gOYkL8d3WY8AcR6DN_38EZX9ymPGp1OR-p2i_W5DAGb7KdW-TacbdUIGKaBQpKfVO7QxTMbRntLhn0kxAU5blVwFwMjV7lmQauE1-xEYNndI/s320/4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268040707455503906" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zJgYx2RdRvbJSeYcq-AVj5wQN_Gg6yxHVzT1dAag33NFZ8CPad-cMY5PeaQRU-i6J72eiW0MVvhjdA-IFXwTGH0_W1ZHQVI9ihV3-ToZvxA4VYa2Hpidn4P28ly71byLLUlPxDd7Qxc/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zJgYx2RdRvbJSeYcq-AVj5wQN_Gg6yxHVzT1dAag33NFZ8CPad-cMY5PeaQRU-i6J72eiW0MVvhjdA-IFXwTGH0_W1ZHQVI9ihV3-ToZvxA4VYa2Hpidn4P28ly71byLLUlPxDd7Qxc/s320/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268036821583936882" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQETR4LUgwujgT0w1o1Uc2BgmDMmbjQky0e-qGHHVEYDUhpvUhdRQm4Q6J_FLtleDEOWiLoRxUcaFRMRbSsAgi8Idv1xJ51vioSoqpF5CixAYwkCZWt4jQ2h89GIOSdgj_h3LT2WtcHM/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQETR4LUgwujgT0w1o1Uc2BgmDMmbjQky0e-qGHHVEYDUhpvUhdRQm4Q6J_FLtleDEOWiLoRxUcaFRMRbSsAgi8Idv1xJ51vioSoqpF5CixAYwkCZWt4jQ2h89GIOSdgj_h3LT2WtcHM/s320/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268028632314722082" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mtb Crash Aug 2008, Yea that left a mark. And a lot of antibiotics.</span><br /></div>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-70410285893559697342008-11-12T21:42:00.000-08:002008-11-12T22:36:15.862-08:00YES!<span style="font-family: arial;">I drank the Obama cool-aid and damn was it tasty.<br /><br />So the right guy won. Yippee! But now its gonna be lots of hard work and sacrifice and in all reality it will get worse before it gets better.<br /><br />Lets see what has BushCo left us to clean up:<br /><br />Iraq<br />Afghanistan<br />Mortgage Crisis<br />Bank Failures<br />Auto Industry<br />Energy Crisis<br />Global Warming<br /><br />To name a few. And if anybody cares, I think BEFORE we give out 100s of BILLIONS of dollars we should make the industry that we are bailing out follow some damned rules. Out line things they can and cannot do with gobs of my money. Like requiring the auto industry to create more efficient autos and or develop the technology we already have into viable options. By just bailing out these companies we are just rewarding the piss poor management and outrageous pay scales that got us into this muck in the first place.<br /><br />CEOs, boards and the like of these "too big to fail" companies need to put their big boy undies on and realize that they made some seriously flawed decisions and that does not equate to a large bonus or any sort of monetary reward.<br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4623951353794189687.post-11814636963164036042008-10-11T11:10:00.000-07:002008-10-11T11:11:32.269-07:00Oh if you become VP...<span style="font-family: arial;">Freaking brilliant...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7DIc8jdra0o&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7DIc8jdra0o&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span>Miriam.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00745269566799171609noreply@blogger.com1