Hello lover

Click here for more delicious tattoo pictures.

Soooooooooo I got more tattoo. What can I say, I'm addicted.

About 4 hours of work done by the amazing Dylan at Scapegoat Tattoo (12th and Stark) on a blustery Saturday in P-dizzle.

Changes

5 April 2009, up on Grizzly Peak Road

I used to live for Friday night so I could forget, now I live for Sunday morning so I can remember. I've got so much good in my life right now, and biking and getting fitter is making me enjoy everything so much more.

Seriously, who needs religion? I've got ritual.

Wildcat + San Pablo + Morgaga + Pinehurst + Skyline + Tunnel + Russel + Milvia

Length: 30.46 miles
Time: About 4 hours

The weather this weekend took a turn for the GORGEOUS on Friday and Saturday, so I was super stoked for my ride on Sunday, despite sore legs from walking up an effing CLIFF FACE in San Francisco, aka Folsom Street, the day before. It was sunny clear, with a projected high of 60 or so degrees - I could hardly scarf down my tofu scramble, potatoes, and green tea fast enough.

I had even more gear to play with this weekend; I finally bought a pair of gloves at Missing Link Bicycle Co-Op on Shattuck (10% off with my SFBC membership!), and Bike Friend Nathan was kind of enough to give me two old pairs of padded shorts and two jerseys. While slightly weirded out by the feeling, I fucking LOVE the shorts. My tender ladybits were not nearly so tenderIZED, even after over 30 miles. The jersey is lightweight, breathable, and has handy pockets situated on your back, which is nice, because before, I'd had my camera and cellphone in my sweatshirt pockets, which meant the weight of the electronics was hanging down in front. Not horrible, but not ideal, either.

I quickly found out how handy the gloves are as well; not only are they going to help out during wet weather, they also help counteract the slippage of my sweaty hands while riding in warmer weather.

I don't mean to give the impression that you have to go out and buy a bunch of shit to be a proper cyclist; I got all/most of my bike stuff at a discount (either through the nice Mr. Michael at Sports Basement, or my SFBC card) or free. It just makes rides, especially long ones, a lot more comfortable. You don't have to use/buy anything, as long as you're willing to put up with a bit of a sore crotch, etc etc! And I'm certainly no expert, so take everything I say with a big fuckin' grain of salt.

I planned for a 9am departure and managed to leave at 9:20am. The first 8 miles were familiar to me, being the same path (or part of it) I'd taken the last two weekends. The ride up Spruce was significantly easier this weekend compared to the last time and relatively uneventful. I nearly ran into a parked car when THE HOTTEST GUY EVER jogging without a shirt on went by on the other side of the street and I careened my neck around Linda Blair style to stare creepily at him. I also got the annoying short PEEP PEEP PEEP honks from a Sense of Entitlement Prius who wanted me and some other cyclists to get out of its way. Um, sorry, those parked automobiles to the right of me? They're SOLID. I'm not an X-man, I can't morph through cars. I could go on a rant about people who own Priuses (Priii?) and how the problem isn't the type of car, it's that there are too many cars, but I'll save it for a rainy day.

No turkeys as I made my way onto Wildcat, but far less traffic; only lovely quiet and the frequent "hello"s and "on your left!"s of other cyclists. I stopped near the end of Mile 4 for a quick water break. My goal was to make myself take frequent breaks, as I have a habit of trying to barrel through things and then I end up exhausted halfway through. The sunshine coming in through the trees was absolutely gorgeous, and wonderful spring warmth spread across my arms.





I stopped again at Mile 5.5, at what is clearly my favorite place to photograph, Inspiration Point in Tilden. Two French cyclist guys looked at me all weird while I was taking pictures; not sure if it was because I'm a girl, or because of my stomach pooge, or if they think cameras take your soul:





I got a little nervous going down E Wildcat towards San Pablo, especially when I came up to the point where the guy behind me took a spill last weekend, but there was less traffic this time and it was amazingly quiet, so I took some deep breaths, let up on the breaks a little and asked Lola to carry me safely; it was a very zen experience.

I turned right onto Camino Palbo road, which is where the new (for me) part of my ride began.



The road turns from secluded parkland into a more towny, busy-ish, 30-45 mph road, which sounds awful but there's a bigass bikelane for most of it. There were one or two terrifying, OMG what the fuck why is the bikelane ending moments, but it would pop back almost immediately and I think this road gets enough cyclists (it's a clearly-labeled bike route with signs every mile or so) that the cars know how to share the road. I tried to relax, enjoy the flatness and fastness (I have no problem going fast if I'm on flat ground, it's downhill that scares me), and remember what BFN had told me: "Just be confident and take lanes when you need to."

The road eventually turns into Moraga Way and most of it is pretty damn ugly: houses, shopping centers, a freeway onramp. I was pretty lucky, though, because by Mile 15 I had to pee something fierce, and right at the point where I turn from Moraga onto Canyon, there is a gas station with a single-stall bathroom that was big enough to take my bike into. SWEET.



The scenery changes almost immediately after being on Canyon for about half a mile. The housing developments fall behind and rural hills emerge from around corners. As I rode up to the point where Canyon ended and I could either go left or right on Pinehurst, tall redwood trees block out almost all the sun, dappling the dark asphalt with warm patches. Baby ferns and horsetails spring up along the sides of the creek that follows the road, and I think only two cars passed me the entire time.







Three older looking dudes with ponytails and bad shirts zoomed by me in expensive looking convertibles drove past (a Porsche and two other European looking things...mid-life crises?). It struck me that they think they look like hot shit; but to me, having a car and going for "drives" is not something I'd ever be impressed by. I felt kind of sorry for them, because I'm pretty hot shit myself.

After passing the itty bitty town of Canyon, CA (pop: FUCKING TINY), the landscape becomes more chaparral-like and the road begins to climb pretty steeply. It's an 8% grade for about 1/2 mile or so. I passed some amazing sandstone formations that might be Franciscan chert that I'd love to go back and take more time to look at, but I was so effing tired that I need all energy just to keep going. I really, REALLY appreciated my shoes at that moment, it was insane how much mental thought I was putting into forcing my muscles to push down and pull up with both legs. I finally got to a place to stop but the stratigraphy was much less apparent so I didn't bother taking many pictures and settled for neat tree roots instead.





I had to stop twice, and nearly forced a scream out of my burning lungs as I chugged up the last hump onto the Skyline/Grizzly Peak/Pinehurst intersection. I've decided that Pinehurst should be renamed PineHURTS.

I coasted slowly down back through civilization, and after just a little bit I was treated to a gorgeous view:





It was all worth it! My heart leapt as I realized that the remaining 9 or 10 miles was mostly downhill or flat, and my energy was renewed. Plus, I felt fucking badass. I'd just done 20 miles, which was about what my first ride with Lola two weekends ago was, and I was pooped after that. Now, I was embarking on 10 more, and I was going to fly.

The views from Skyline are phenomenal. Try to look at this as a panoramic shot:







Closer view of SF/Bay Bridge:



I wound my way down the hills back into south Berkeley, marveling at the houses built into the sides of the hills and how amazing it would be to live up here, away from all the noise and hubbub below. Then I thought about biking UP that hill I was flying down, and thought, "Eff that noise."

Skyline eventually becomes Old Tunnel, which becomes Tunnel, and runs along Hwy 13, which becomes Ashby. Tunnel is bike-friendly; Ashby is a fucking bike deathtrap, and unfortunately I didn't know exactly where I was and didn't turn off to get onto Russell (a bike boulevard) soon enough, so I had a scary 3 block ride where I was pretty sure I was going to get hit by a car. Russell was lovely and quiet, with a protected crossing at College and Telegraph, and from there it was an easy ride back home.

I felt amazing afterwards. I was so psyched about life, and bikes, and my body, and being a vegan athlete (HA), and I'm still feeling it today. Can't wait to do it again, except next time I think I'm going to try and do 40 and include Redwood!!

Lessons learned:
-Bring chapstick
-Bring a snack for any rides over three hours

I love this picture. John looks like he really likes me. I was playing with settings on my camera and found the sepia filter. He's in Colorado right now and I miss him. I haven't felt anyone's absence like this since...well, since a long time. I think it's good. I wasn't sure I could love this deeply, and uncertainty made me question it, but I do love him, very much.



I'm testing for another vegan cookbook. I think that officially makes me a badass (not really, but a girl can think muchly of herself, can't she?). Isa & Terry's cookie book is nearing completion and should come out sometime in November. I hope you'll all buy a copy.

Was feeling really healthy this week, all the biking and running and aggressively trying to eat better has made my legs quite sexy and as I walked to the store in my jean cutoffs to buy soup ingredients yesterday, I turned more than one head. Then I ruined it when I came home tonight and made a small batch of guacamole and devoured it all with broken stale tostada shells and organic carrots. SMALL I SAY! It only used 1 avo, like a tablespoon of vegan sour cream, juice of 1 lime, and some chipotle salsa. NOM. Made up for it by having a dinner of asparagus, cucumbers, grapes, and leftover brown rice. The asparagus had Vegenaise all over it, of course. FUCK YOU! I eat what I want to!

I really like The Shins.

Spruce + Wildcat and back again

My ride on Saturday started off much the same as last week, except without the promise of sunshine. The weather forecast said rain, but not until later in the afternoon, and I set out at 11am with fingers crossed that the clouds would part. I was planning to do a 30 mile, Wildcat +Camino +Moraga +Pinehurst +Skyview +Tunnel loop, but alas, the weather changed my plans into a 16 mile there-and-back-again route, to be completely hobbitish about it.

This was my first long uphill ride with my fancy new cycling shoes, which I love.



I feel like I was able to do a pretty good assessment of them, as well, since I went up and down over much of the same route as last week (in particular the nasty uphill stretch of E. Wildcat Canyon Road between San Pablo Damn Road and S. Park). They're also completely vegan, and pretty wallet-friendly too - especially since I got mine at Sports Basement in the Presidio, which has great prices. Anyway my uphill battle was a little easier this time, and it's nice to feel different muscles engaging. I feel like I have to actively pull up a little to get the full effect, but it gives other muscles a bit of a break. I'm certainly not an expert but I really like cycling with the shoes on. They're also not nearly as difficult to use as I thought they'd be (there will be more on this in a future Sisters Vegan post, probably).

Since I did NOT want to go up Euclid and its evil hills again, I decided to ride up Spruce, which, though also uphill, has equally gorgeous views of the bay, and a gentler ascent, though it's a bit curvier, which is fine, but a bit nervousing when you're not sure if there's a car just about to come around the corner, and whether or not they can drive properly. Lots of sense-of-entitlement BMW drivers up here, just like on Grizzly Peak and Euclid, and I was reminded more than once of the "I could give a fuck if you honk at me. If you honk at me, it means you can see me. It's the drivers who can't see me that I have to worry about." school of thought.

Still, I was rewarded for my patience (and turtle-like ascent...I'm such a slowpoke!) when I got onto Wildcat from Spruce, despite the immediate degradation of the pavement from pristine smoothly-lain asphalt to fucking POTHOLE CENTRAL. That aside, it's a total atmosphere change. Big shady trees block traffic and city noise, the driveways are littered with pine cones and needles...a very wonderful calm came over me as I bumped along over the uneven road.

Until I looked to my left, slammed on my brakes and nearly launched over the handlebars.

"TURKEYS!" I squealed.

There on the side of the road was a flock of wild turkeys!! Unfortunately as I was fiddling with my camera, a car drove by, and most of the flock disappeared down the side of the road into the canyon, but I managed to get this picture of the last two (click on it to view larger sizes):



Several other bikers stopped to gawk as I pedaled on. The further I went up Wildcat, the wetter the weather became. It never really rained, it was just super misty - enough to soak my sweatshirt, and certainly enough to give me a less-than-sure grip on the brakes. Going uphill wasn't a problem, and I finally made it up to Inspiration point, where I took some pics of the view...



...and was less than thrilled about the looming clouds:



At this point I began to flipflop about my planned ride. On the one hand, doing 30 miles would be an awesome accomplishment, the furthest I'd ever gone. On the other hand, I was wet cold and cranky, and the next few miles were a pretty steep downhill.

My anxiety was not helped when a more experienced biker (well...he had spandex and shit, so he looked more experienced than me, anyway) took a spill behind me as he, according to him, took a curve too fast. (He was fine, just had "a bad case of butt burn.") The rest of my ride down the hill was very tense, and I definitely felt it in my muscles later - I was way more sore after 16 miles than I was after 21 last weekend.


After I got to the bottom of the hill, I decided to turn back (smart move, right?), and I was glad I did; the air became significantly moister with each turn of the road and by the time I got back to Inspiration Point, I was soaked.

The ride was slow, and wet, and at one point as I was struggling to stay upright AND move forward, I thought "Grrrr mumble fuck rarrrr hate full of grehhhh" and was feeling pretty negative - then, from some serene hidden glen, I heard the sound of turkeys gobbling happily! Yay! The turkeys like the rain! The thought of turkeys gleefully running around and laughing as raindrops hit their beaks made me smile, and renewed my energy.

Luckily, the rest of Wildcat was almost all a smooth downhill coast or flat with a hill or two near the Brazil Building/S. Park intersection, but nothing that I couldn't handle. I went pretty fast, wanting to be home on the couch with some tea ASAP! Amazing what the thought of a fuzzy sweatshirt and some jasmine green tea in the future will do for a person!

I did stop to take some pictures on Spruce. The sky was grey (as it was all day) but it was less wet once I got to a lower elevation. I really love the hills, they're so quiet and calming.



There's also this crazy house on Spruce with really interesting...sculptures? Statues? I don't know what to call them:





It makes me wonder what kind of person lives there!

The rest of the route was uneventful, a nice easy ride home and then a walk to the farmer's market for vegan mexican food with John.

Here's the route:

Little things

Pretty!

Raspberry Lemonade Tartlets from My Sweet Vegan by Hannah Kaminsky.

Another bike write up (Ride up? Haha!) coming soon.

Euclid + Grizzly Peak Road + S. Park + Wildcat + Wildcat (again) + Spruce

After a profoundly delicious and body-fueling breakfast on Saturday, I started out on a bike ride that would take me up through the Berkeley hills, loop around the east edge of campus, take me up to the south end of Tilden Park, go through the middle of it, and come down through to Berkeley hills again to deposit me back at home. Little did I know this quick, easy-to-intermediate, 12 mile jaunt was going to turn into an almost 21 mile, getting lost out near San Pablo Dam Road, legs turn to jelly uphill battle. But in a fun way!

Map for reference.

I left nervously, cellphone, camera, and carefully (or so I thought) written directions in my fleece pullover pockets, nervous about riding in my running shoes but too impatient to bother with learning to use my new cycling shoes (YET!), water in my Sports Basement bottle (complete with "Go Vegan or Die" sticker now slapped on it). But as I road down Milvia and then Virginia, both familiar parts of my commute, worry slipped away and I shifted into an easier gear as the climb grew steeper.

And steeper.

And STEEPER. Fuck. ME. Once I turned and started huffing and puffing up Euclid, I looked down repeatedly to check and make sure I was in the easiest possible gear. That was the only time I've regretted having a double instead of a triple crankset; I also regretted not taking the time to set up my cycling shoes and learn to use them; I could definitely see how having your feet firmly connected to the pedals AND having the upstroke of your leg pulling while the other pushes, would be way more efficient. I would regret this later, too, but for different reasons.

I had to stop once the road got a little flatter to catch my breath, and the view was gorgeous:



That's the Golden Gate way off in the distance there, straddling the peninsulas.

This picture gives a better perspective on how far up I was (and that was by no means the highest point).



I only took a few pictures at a few points. I wish I'd taken more, but the view was just so gorgeous that I felt like my camera couldn't contain half of how beautiful and wide and majestic it was, or how exhilarated I felt.

Once I got onto Grizzly Peak Road the route flattened (slightly) and I moved along at a faster pace, but stopped more frequently to check out the view to my right. As I went up, the houses and cars got more luxurious (read: expensive), but honestly, you could have a lot up there with a cardboard shack and it would still have the best view in the bay and sell for one bajillion dollars.

In addition to increasingly nice property, as the neighborhoods fell behind me and I passed above the Lawrence Hall of Science and well above the Bears stadium, the tall, fragrant eucalyptus trees multiplied...as did their tree litter of leaves, bark, and nuts, making riding on the shoulder more perilous, believe it or not, that slightly into the road. Luckily most of the automobile drivers up here seemed prepared for sharing the road: going the speed limit, giving other cyclists and myself a wide berth, etc. However to the owners of the infrequent mercedes, BMWs, and Lexuses (Lexii?), y'all can get bent. The peasants don't care that you PAY for the right to careen around corners in your huge autos; I'm not slipping off the edge of the road for your convenience, however much you honk at me.

I was amused though that I get many more "hello"s and appreciative nods when I'm on my snazzy bike with tight black pants on. It's like I got into the club.

It was all worth it though, as I came around a corner to a lookout point and was treated to a gorgeous view:



That brown, circular-ish area at the treeline near the center is the stadium.

I went on, and the road grew less inclined, and I finally saw my turning point onto S. Park Road into Tilden Park, which is closed to automobiles from November to May. I was nervous as I dismounted and edge my bike around the gate with the big "ROAD CLOSED" sign on it.

'Great,' I thought, 'this is how horror movies start. There's probably a wild pack of non-vegan cannibalistic hippies in there waiting to devour me.'

Luckily, no such fate awaited me, but I was pretty terrified. S. Park is a nice long decline about a mile and a half long until it comes to another closed gate and meets up with Shasta Road and E Wildcat Road. What I was not prepared for is how fast my bike goes even in the slowest gear. I was grasping the brakes with a controlled deathgrip as I flew down the hill, snot dripping from my nose, a tear leaking out of my eye, wind shrieking around me as I passed (for now) empty picnic grounds. I'm pretty sure I was going at least 30 mph. I felt like I was in one of those dreams I have where I'm driving but going too fast and have no control. At least this time, I had control, but I damn near had a panic attack...and I want to do it all over again. The scenery was lovely, it was like descending into a cool green valley just for me. There were some equestrians (BOO) and some hikers, but for most of the way, it was just me, Lola, and the wind.

At the bottom of S. Park, I took a detour. Instead of turning left, as I should have, I turned right, and ended up almost 5 miles off course, out on San Pablo Dam Road. Some cell-phoning got me back on track, but unfortunately back-tracking most of those 5 miles was a grueling uphill climb, much of which was a 6% incline. I got to visit Inspiration Point twice, once on the misguided way down and once on the reluctant and grumbly way back, but I was rewarded with this lovely view both times:



Once I got back on track on E Wildcat Rd, it was smooth sailing, mostly flat or downhill. Exiting Tilden and going back into a residential area was kind of lame, because the road quality was AWFUL; Lola is not meant for off-roading, god damn it! This was the other point I regretted not having my cycling shoes; the bumpiness made it hard to keep my feet glued to the pedals, and as such my knees are pretty sore from not staying straight the whole time.

I turned down onto Spruce as the sun came out a little, and had to do some more death-grip braking as I made my way down the hill until Eunice St. A few quick turns and I was back at home, heaving my bike up the stairs and collapsing into a pile of jelly on the couch, where I devoured a bag of vegan German gummi bears and an orange.

Lessons learned:
(1) READ THE MAP
(2) Learn to use cycling shoes ASAP
(3) Invest in padded shorts or pants, and a pair of gloves
(4) READ THE MAP!

Quote of the day

"Ask the experimenters why they experiment on animals, and the answer is: "Because the animals are like us." Ask the experimenters why it is morally okay to experiment on animals, and the answer is: "Because the animals are not like us." Animal experimentation rests on a logical contradiction."

~Charles R. Magel

Damn yankees

My view from Inspiration Point, in the Presidio, where I was test riding bikes on Saturday. I actually remembered to bring my camera - unbelievable!



I got to ride a $2500 bike up the 2nd time - needless to say that was NOT the one I bought. I felt so nervous that it almost wasn't very satisfying, but it was pretty cool to feel the difference between a steel frame and a fancy carbon frame.

I went home after shelling out the cash for my bike (as well as shoes, a helmet, new lights, a new U-lock, and pedals), and promptly fell asleep. I was out late in the haight the night before with Kelly and Jenna, and John for a while, where much fun was had by all. I really like having friends, especially cool ones, it's much nicer than before when I was lonely and irritable all the time.



We are sexy ladies.

I was super tired the next day though, and rolled up to Sports Basement, after taking two buses and getting lost, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It helped that it was a gorgeous spring day though, which helped wake me up. It probably also helped that I was on tires the width of my thumb, which for me is a whole different ballgame from riding on fat popcorn-y mountain bike tires. I woke up in time to make Vegan Latina tester recipes and a meyer lemon bundt cake for dinner,



The next day though I took full advantage of the gorgeous weather, though, and went up the length of the Ohlone Greenway to the El Cerrito/Richmond border to get used to the new bike. It's weird being on something so light and little that responds to the slightest tough, but as you can tell from my self-satisfied grin in this picture, I'm enjoying it.

Fuck yeah bikes

Everyone has their vices. Some people spend their hard-earned money on beer, pot, and hookers. I spend mine on cookbooks, obscure ingredients, and fancy bicycles.

Meet Lola. She and I are going places.