Away Too Long

And by away too long, I mean sex.  Everything eventually comes back to that.

I miss it, at least the idea of it. I ride and I ride and I ride and it abates.  Climbing hills is the best for that. I like to pedal until I am just too tired to summon desire between my legs, my crevice blissfully numb. 

I must be hormonal. How predictable.

Maybe it’s truly been too long but I am just bored thinking about it. I need substance to keep the dream alive. Vibrators and the internet aside, there is really nothing like the quiver of foreign skin intersecting familiar territory.

The other day I rode to a wine tasting. It was a great evening, a brisk ride to some viciously arresting red from a vineyard in Walla Walla named Forgeron. Taste buds at attention, warm with the glow of splendor. That night I had strangely erotic dreams. I have had sex dreams before with its fuzzy, hazy, faceless, body response writhing. You know - you wake up all sweaty and frustrated. This was different, verbal, challenging, flirtatious. By that I mean: me getting hit on, flirted with, verbal parries; several different ones as a matter of fact. Tall, handsome men with thick, thick bicycle thighs. I awoke slightly confused and rather aroused. I headed out for a hilly ride, into a headwind.

I definitely need to get out more. Socialize with people.  My bike, my art, and I are in this intense three-way right now.  Without some input soon, it might just become an insipid vortex.  

And off I ride. 

too long

I have been away too long.

Riding my bike, licking my wounds, learning the intricacies of the Labor Department and its unemployment benefits.

Mostly I want to have more spring days when I speed over a rise and around the corner to emerge along side a field of Lupins scenting the air the most tantalizing way. I wanted to stop and pick flowers, revel in aromatic intoxication. But instead on I went, fearing the cloying feeling of too much bouquet; savoring it until my nose was searching for something besides the freeway exhaust and rotting plant matter.

It was raining by then, not that I mind if I am moving fast, faster.

Twenty miles under clouds, a fording the path under river water, wet feet and smile - having no job isn't so bad. No, actually, I love my time. It is only the temporary lack of capital that I abhor. And that too shall pass.

Until then, I pray for pithy lines, for the rain to pass and  for inspiration to make itself known.

In the meantime, thank you Captain Crank for the innovative use of a back pack. A friend in need... indeed:

So many reasons to ride

You can find inspiring reasons to ride everywhere you look.
I love this blog and the riders inspiring riders: Chicks and Bikes

I need pink rims.

Pedal Pusher

Yesterday I managed to strip the other pedal clean off the crank arm.

It started a while ago when I incorrectly installed pedals on the wrong side one day. It took that ride to discover my mistake and move them across but the damage was started. It took a week or so before the first pedal loosened and fell off as I was giving Jesus a high five on the Gonzaga campus.

Off to the bike shop with one foot I went.

My favorite guy cleaned up the threads and gave it back. It worked for another couple weeks. I ride too hard for that to go down any other way. So, last week he replaced one of the crank arms. Sensitive to my unemployed status, he found a replacement part that isn't as pretty as the original,  but fully as functional and that is all I care about. If I want pretty, I will comb my hair.

Well, yesterday I was coming out of a river bottom and stripped the other side. I was four miles out. At least the other foot got the workout this time. And I was riding with friends. One footed is fine.

I called Larry at Steve's ( Bikes ) on Cannon and he sighed. He knows my problem. Now I wait until the proper part can be secured. Is there a bike wrecking yard someplace where spare parts are mouldering while awaiting just this time?

I still have my  mountain bike so I can roll and I love that bike. But me and the road bike have matching color schemes. And we are both sleek and fast and sporting pink accessories. Hurry Larry.

I have apologized to the bike a number of times for my gaff. She doesn't care about the crank arms, she is just missing the sun today. Spring has finally shown the sun and flowers bloom.

I see dirt in my future.

Until then, I am still looking for the perfect bike job. I like this option, I want to be the driver/bartender of this Beer Bike Bar

It's fun.

I like to ride and thats a fact. 

Not specifically for speed though I have gotten faster because I ride often. 

Not specifically for fitness, though it is a great side effect, and I feel energetic.

Not for the cool gear, though I appreciate my bikes more than my car.

No, I ride because it is fun. I love to roll, I love the wind in my hair, I love the sun on my face, I love flexing my muscles and breathing deep and pushing hills. I love my mind wandering and quieting and becoming clear. I love the creative ideas that come to me when I am enjoying the tweet of birds, swirling of clouds and flow of miles.

So I will ride with you, fast or slow, road or mountain bike. I will dash along if you are a fixie fiend. If you want to cruise, I can slack. I enjoy your company. I love to see people ride.

 But I will ride alone at any time. I need no one to feel complete or to appear in public and that includes riding. I can ride for miles or days alone if you can't come. And happily so. 

So, how can a life long rider find a way to ride more. How can my bike pay?

Moveable feast?: Picnic Table Bike

No Job... No Problem

Hi, that's me rolling along the Centennial Trail in Washington. My name is Laurentia and I am tired of a regular job, I have been working my ass off in offices since I was in college in the way back days. I suppose I should be a bit freaked out, this is the first time I have even been laid off. I have quit jobs before to travel, but this is a first. It was pretty easy to apply online, I find out in 3-6 weeks if I qualify. In the meantime, I polish my outlook, and ride my bike.

Nextly: let's see what I can hope to do for income on my bicycle. 

Newpaper route was suggested in jest by someone who can't see beyond his tv remote. There is chinese food delivery, bike messenger, bike racer or pedi-cab driver; perhaps a tour guide? I don't want bike mechanic or bike shop, they aren't actually riding the bikes while working but I do love the people who help me with my mechanical issues. 

I have to say, most of those options sound fun, in that I get to ride a bike while working, but really, unless I have a camera crew following me on those errands, they likely don't pay what I feel would be appropriate for a woman of my style and taste. Meaning I like good food and warm beds, lots of travel, cold beer and laughter with friends all surrounded by miles on the bike.

My brother suggested that I write a book about how I got rich writing a book about riding my bike. Or: How to get rich on a budget. So far, I like that idea the best. 

Then we can ride our bikes to the post office to pick up the checks that came in the mail and then bike over to the bank to deposit them. All in a days biking.

Yeah.

If that seems premature, collecting the book royalties at my leisure on a book I started yesterday... Well, the book is a bit short of substance here in the beginning and its raining outside and I need to write something.

As soon as the rain stops, I will go have a bike adventure and tell you about it later.

Until then, could a book tour be combined with a bike tour?

Okay, Let's roll

So, I got laid off today. 

It seems like the perfect time to do an about face and decide to take my life in my own hands. I mean, I know what I want. I want to live on my bike.  I shall go and find the answer to this question: Since I am happiest when I am pedaling my bicycle, how can I make that provide me with the income I want to ride my bike more?

This is my quest.

And here is my blog.