Road Trip: Bishop, C...

Bishop is where people who live in LA go to rock climb. It’s actually where lots of other people go to rock climb too, but the LA people are easy to identify becayse they walk around the grocery stores, tan and shirtless, with bleached dreads, saying “bra” and “sick” a lot. They like to use...

Bull Run / Sandy Riv...

Last year the only cycling shoes I had were some road shoes two-Euro-sizes-too-big for me (but I got them for free!). I filled the toes with crumpled up napkins or newspaper, and for short rides it was kind of okay. But for anything over 30 miles my feet would go numb and shortly after that my back would start feeling like it...

Road Trip: Lake Tahoe [Flume Trail] – 23 Mil...

I went to high school in Western Nevada, between Reno and Tahoe. I was new to the area and everyone hated me. I think that I may have threatened the Okies with my big city ways, including pegging my pants and listening to Bell Biv Devoe.  Or they may have just hated me because I’m a prick. But I’m pretty sure that the pants pegging didn’t help. At one point during my freshman year, after coming to terms with the fact that no one would ever want to be my friend, I did what any 14 year old girl would do: I stalked a celebrity. I knew that Greg Lemond had lived near my neighborhood. He went to my high school. I had an art teacher that was keeping a bunch of his miserable paintings because she thought they would be priceless...

Road Trip: San Franc...

The cool thing about going to college is you get to look forward to all the times that you don’t have to be in college. With an epic 3 weeks of winter at my disposal, I headed to the Bay Area for a vay-cay and some warmer weather. Before I left I visited the internet and googled myself up the Northern California bike race...

Larch Mountain ̵...

I’d never ridden Larch Mountain until the the hill climb race last year. It was just like a normal recreational ride, except I was alone the goal was to ride as fast as possible. Apparently that’s how time trials work.  I remember that it was really cold at the top. Which I didn’t notice on the way up,...

Weaver’s Tour ...

I decided to celebrate Americas economic decline, which continues to be the only thing outperforming analyst expectations, by calling in sick and going for a bike ride. From North Portland to Wilsonville, then back up through Lake Oswego. It was a tour of Portland’s income distribution, showing us what Portland looked...

Skyline to Logie Tra...

This one started at at Beulahland with a bloody Mary, because some times you need something hearty to start your day, but you just don’t feel like wasting the energy to chew. Or at least that’s what my nanna used to say. Though she had no teeth, and was usually talking about high-in-calcium Ensure. And I realize...

One Hour Rides: Salt...

In my world, “training” means sitting around the house eating pints of ice cream and watching videos of monkeys riding segways on YouTube. Unless it’s race season, in which case I watch Dancing with the Stars. Because Chloris Leachman gets my heart rate up. But every once in a while, I feel like I need to get...

One Hour Rides: Newberry to Germantown

It would be awesome if every ride we posted was an all day affair, complete with rolling hills and epic views and a picnic of champagne and strawberries, finished off with a sunset hot air balloon ride piloted by Frenchman named Francois, who spends an hour explaining the intricacies of hot air balloon operation, but in French, so we can’t understand him. Unfortunately, we don’t have an hour to learn about hot air balloons, Francois. It’s getting cold and dark these days. I’ve barely got an hour to ride, before I have to get home and tend to my drunkness. So here is a ride that, while not classy, is fast and fun and tiring. Start at the NE Blend coffee shop, with your fingers tightly gripping a cup off coffee. In...

The Secret Cyclocros...

People don’t like to share their training rides, because everyone wants to be the pioneer who casually drops knowledge of the most awesomest thing ever. It’s always been that way. Hip bands. Rock climbing. Unusual sex positions. They like to act smug and say “Oh, you’ve never been to this club/bolted...

Dutch Canyon –...

I should have known that I was in trouble when my riding partner mentioned over coffee that he had consumed a pre-ride pot cookie to help him “zone out”. And I should have grown more concerned when he told me, as we carved our way down the pockmarked pavement on Rock Creek, that he was “starting to feel...

Silver Falls –...

My first experience in the beautiful farmland East of Salem was the Mt. Angel Oktoberfest, where I drank my weight in Bud Light from a beer stein, and unwittingly opened an unlocked Honey Bucket and found a pair of young bumkins in the act of, as Chuck Woolery would say, “whoopie” while a polka band played the...

Page 2 of 3123