Grumpy Old Men On Bikes

Despite my best efforts to lower the tone the organisation of this ride is pretty slick.  We have team cycle jerseys and caps, crew uniforms, branding for the van and business cards with QR  codes...the whole enchilada.  We even have a film crew! We are being shadowed by a 2 person team who will create a 45 minute TV documentary.  We don't have funding from Netflix so the crew are two students (of journalism and documentary film making) but we have seen a glimpse of their work and they know their craft! They are a young and attractive couple...the perfect counter-balance to the support crew. As well as the full documentary they are tasked with creating a 5 minute version to be screened at the World Parkinson's Congress in Phoenix.  The following short teaser was knocked up in their bedroom after just 2-3 days on the road so I'm really looking forward to seeing the final result.  I'm assuming (and hoping) that my scenes won't survive the edit! TEA...

I like Merica and I like many things Merican...but I could never live here.  The things that annoy me REALLY annoy me, and that leads me to the rant-de-jour. Why is it that every other kind of business builds their staff costs into their product price but when it comes to food and drink I'm supposed to pay the staff costs instead?  I appreciate that tipping isn't a uniquely American issue but it has really got out of hand here. A discretionary tip to show appreciation for exceptional service is one thing but what is now the norm in Merica is legitimised extortion.  At every transaction, even buying a TAKEAWAY coffee, one is presented with a demand for a tip.  You CAN decline but this is likely to lead to a sour response at best and a stand-up argument at worst.  The suggested tip is always calculated for a range of percentages and the LOWEST suggested percentage is now twenty. TWENTY.  F@#£ing TWENTY!!! Also...in what world does it make sen...

For my international readership I should explain:  in the UK there is a long-running compilation album, launched with Volume 1 in 1983, which features the greatest hits of the period.  It in now well past volume 100 and going strong.  I didn't blog yesterday, which my daughter has firmly pointed out is unacceptable, so I better catch up: DAY 5 - With A Little Help From My Friends Last night we were in Garibaldi, another small town devoted entirely to fishing.  The town was deserted; we had our harbourside diner to ourselves and even the hotel had only 1 guest other than our group. Marlene was good to her word and rocked up at 7am with delicious breakfast burritos, muffins and coffee.  Marlene gave up her Sunday, drove 100 miles to stand beside the road all afternoon with a snack station, paid for overnight accommodation so she could be up delivering breakfast, then drove 100 miles home.  'Thank you' doesn't really suffice but it is all we h...

Long Beach WA is a little seaside town best known for having....err...a long beach. When I arrived yesterday the sun was out, it was Saturday and the annual Razor Clam Festival was in full swing.  If you don't know what a razor clam festival is you are in good company!    Anyway there was a quite a buzz in town with lots of shellfish frolics. As I entered the town I was a bit surprised to find an organised protest on the outskirts, which requires me to address the elephant in the room... King Trump the Orange.  Citizens of the coastal states are generally less likely to be Trump supporters, but you can never be sure and I had wondered what the political mood might be.  For a county in the hands of a narcissistic psychopath everything seems surprisingly 'normal' but I think the general lack of pro-Trump/MAGA posters says a lot.  The good people of Long Beach are clearly not fans...they stood at an intersection holding placards that could best be descr...

I think we were the only people staying in last night's hotel that were not going fishing this morning!  I have never liked fishing but I studied the fisherpeople (is that sufficiently woke?) loading their trucks and fishing seems to involve very large coolers full of beer.  Maybe I should give it a try. We are now following the Pacific Coast Highway; which means long stretches on our nemesis - US101.  This road runs all the way from Seattle to Los Angeles and is the main alternate to the I5 interstate.  We avoid it wherever we can and this puts us on quiet country back roads where the people have fewer teeth and bigger beards...sometimes even the men.   The citizens of these back roads communities are not gardeners.  Instead of well-trimmed lawns and tended flowerbeds the locals use their yards (gardens) to store crap.  Well, actually 'store' implies more purpose than I think lies behind the abandonment of cars, machinery, old caravan...

No fires last night!  We went into town for dinner in a little bar on Main Street.  Shelton is not a big town and it wasn't a big bar but the menu had about 20 good craft beers on it.  What a change from 20 years ago when you struggled to get anything but Miller or Budweiser!  Supermarkets also have a good selection of craft beers, though I sense a worrying trend towards 'silly' beers.  The shelves are full of beer from companies nobody has ever heard of, in garish livery and with names like Voodoo Jazz Hands.  They all now seem to pack a ridiculous punch - entry level IPA's are 7% or more and some are in the 9's. As I said...silly. On the plus side I suspect that the buying public is shunning these little start-up breweries and they often seem to be on sale at a good discount over the big boys like Sierra Nevada and Lagunitas. A couple from the local PD support group were keen to meet with us and we arranged a rendezvous in Montesano, about hal...

Comments on this blog are always welcome, if only to confirm that somebody actually reads it. Unfortunately most comments get posted anonymously; if you prefer it that way fine but, if not, please give me a clue who you are.  A big Thank You to the person who suggested an alternate title for yesterday's blog...I obviously can't use it but it made me laugh! (I suspect I know who you are). This morning a sizeable farewell committee formed in the hotel lobby.  Members of local PD support and advocacy groups had an early start to meet us for some words of encouragement and to give us a cheer.  Crucially they also brought cookies and flapjack...they clearly understand the way to a cyclist's heart.  The riders got quite a send-off which they absolutely deserved!  There had been some talk of a local news channel coming along for some footage but clearly something more newsworthy won out...maybe a kitten got stuck up a tree. Over the next days and weeks we h...

Much as I have enjoyed my little road trip, it occurs to me that what I have just done is the equivalent of picking up a van in Rome for a trip starting in London!  There were good reasons for doing it this way but another time it might be worth swallowing the extra cost of a 1-way rental. When it comes to organising cycling trips I am a perfectionist.  This doesn’t mean that the trips are perfect, just that I have to live with the daily frustration of knowing that they are not.  It is even worse when real human beings and real world situations come along and mess up my plans.  There is an old saying that “no plan survives 1 st  contact with the enemy” and my ‘enemy’ for this trip will be the riders (with all their human frailties), their bikes (which will break in ways that annoyingly won’t match the tools and spares I have brought) and the hotels (which based on my last trip here will be completely f*&%ing useless).    So, it was with...

I slept predictably badly, which meant I was back in the van and on the road at 4:30.  Most people might dread a 10 hour, 650 mile drive but I actually quite enjoy these road trips.  The van is comfy, quiet and powerful, I get my favourite tunes on the stereo and have a good old think about life.  The scenery varied between ok and very pretty and that also helped.  Despite being on the main I5 freeway, it snakes up into the hills in places and we topped out at about 4500 feet later in the trip.  Stopping for fuel provided a worryingly frequent break from the driving....she (for the van is a she) is doing 18mpg.  Even allowing for America's perverse decision to use gallons but make them 20% smaller than proper gallons, that's pretty poor. I am now in Roseberg Oregon, an unremarkable town expect for being home to Marty and Marisa, with whom I run 1 or 2 cycle trips each year.  Marisa is out of town but Marty shares my liking for a good beer...