Day Late and a Dollar Short

Yeah, that doesn't BEGIN to sum it all up.

I'll spare you reading the details and my reliving them through writing the details. Sure, we should have done better preparing for this move. We could have done more by now. Blah, blah, blah. Coulda, woulda, shoulda, gonna. This is where we are:

August 1st; the first box is in the truck.

The first day that Dale must be at the Graduate Center, NYC: August 16.

Estimated number of boxes her library will require: 60

Number of library boxes packed: 2

Partial planned inventory:

1 dining table

8 chairs

2 office desks with task chairs

5 surfboards

5 bicycles

1 dog, 1 cat

3,000+ miles

Do the math.

Las Vegas put our odds at 20:1.

We got your "moving adventure" right here.

Swan Song Farewell California Mt. Diablo Ride

Interesting.

You may notice that the start and finish of this ride are 20 miles apart. What's up with that? Well, my ride merely ended before I got home.

It has been over 35 years since I rode to the top of Mt. Diablo from Lafayette where I lived at the time. Riding from Berkeley adds about 20 miles and a thousand vertical feet of climbing or so. I actually thought that it was a good idea to attempt this 75+ mile ride that I have never done even though this has not been a particularly good season of riding for me.

Yeah, I know: some get wiser; I just get older.

Anyway, Mt. Diablo is the biggest thing in the area at 3,849 feet.

It very rarely gets any snow but it sure looks pretty when it does. The hills in the foreground are the Berkeley Hills that I ride all the time and what started Thursday's ride.

Here is another cool picture from 1935:

If I got to the summit Thursday and it looked like this, then I will have died along the way.

I neither summited nor died. I did not feel very good starting out, but at about 20 miles I did start to feel pretty good. Note: when riding unfamiliar roads from memory from 35 years ago through the city of Walnut Creek, one should pay particular attention to Avenue, Drive, Boulevard, Way, Whatever associated with the street name "Walnut." I did not. I knew that I needed to turn right on Walnut and did so. The wrong Walnut.

I cannot strongly enough recommend a Wise Web-savy Wing-Woman cheerfully listening for a cell phone call. Dale found me on a map and directed me back on course. Getting off route is one thing. Wandering around making more wrong turns not really knowing what to look for is quite another.

Back on track, I started the serious climbing on North Gate Rd. toward the summit. The day started foggy and 55 degrees in Berkeley and was now 95 degrees and clear. My pace slowed to 4 m.p.h. and before long I waved off the idea of summiting. Right around the 1,000 feet elevation marker is a section of road about half a mile long or so that is quite steep and hurt quite bad. Just after the 2,000 feet elevation marker, North Gate Rd., South Gate Rd., and Summit Rd. meet at a ranger station: my high point for the ride. I was cooked. Stick me with a fork I'm done. I stuck my head under a water faucet for a while and filled my bottles, then sat in the shade for a bit.

The descent down South Gate Rd. was great and uneventful until right about the end where the local road pavers are apparently afraid, unauthorized, whatever, to repair the road. It was so chopped up and pot-holed that I was worried I would fall. Adding to the mix was filtered sunlight through thick trees making it difficult to distinguish the road/cuisinart bike processor. After surviving that, the spin along San Ramon Valley Blvd. to Walnut Creek was icing on the descent cake. I ate, drank, and prepared for the Berkeley Hills yet to come between me and home.

Or not.

Rolling through Lafayette, I was really tired and going slow. I was psyching myself for the 3 mile climb up Wildcat Canyon Rd. the last major climb of the planned route, when my old and chronic knee injury threw-in the towel. Game over. Ride ended. Hello Starbuck's! I called Dale again, walked into Starbucks, ordered a frosty mocha frappuccino and eased onto a shady bench outside. Soon Dale arrived with Macy riding shotgun. We racked the bike on the car and got more frappuccinos.

All in all, a great Swan Song Farewell California Ride of 55 miles and over 4,200 vertical feet of climbing.

Rode a lovely 40 miles today.

The weather was perfect: too perfect to let pass. Sure we have too much to do in too little time but we've been productive in clearing out, financial planning, and investigating driving a 16 ft. truck of our stuff and towing the Prius.

Mapmystupidride.com puts this ride at almost 40 miles with 2,874 vertical feet of climbing. I've not ridden this loop in a long time. I used to ride it a good bit in 1988 when I was preparing for the Ironman. It has several places to cut off and make it shorter if I am not up to it, and it passes 2 BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) stations later in the ride if I really do not feel up to it. Back then I usually crossed the Berkeley Hills at the end which brought the miles to 50 and increased the climbing another 600 vertical feet.

http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/10939356

First Day of the Rest of my Life?

No.

First day of unemployment? Yes.

After thirteen years at Cal, I left my position in preparation to our moving east. I’ve never had such a lovely send-off. When I was a VW mechanic, after working in one shop for ten years I received a call on Sunday telling me not to come to work on Monday: the owner just closed the shop. At another shop that owner suddenly notified everyone that the IRS would padlock the shop within the hour. Not this time. The outpouring of appreciation for my multidimensional contributions to California Hall and the heart-felt sadness at my departure were almost overwhelming. It feels wonderful to know that I made a difference and made friends, not only collegial working relationships.

What this really is: The First Day of the Next Three Weeks.

I do not know how we will do all we must to get our act together and take it on the road in three weeks. It would be better to leave earlier. We will leave as soon as we can. We will drive, but we do not know what. Maybe we’ll ship a container and drive the Prius. Maybe we will drive a truck and tow the Prius. I am most worried about our cat Vinnie. He panics and wets himself at the mere sight of the cat-carrier-terror-box. Our Miniature Pinscher Macy loves, loves, loves road trips, but not always. She hated riding beyond the dog park before she crossed half the country from Colorado to California. Maybe Vinnie will settle in once we cross the Mississippi.

We have challenges to face and puzzles to solve, but we will do it together knowing that we are doing the right thing moving 3,000 miles east for Dale to start her doctoral program in English at the City University of New York. After that? Who knows.

This is not the last thing we will do; this is the next thing we will do and it is a big thing.

Sean Does Not Live By Bike Alone

And lately, I have not lived by bike at all. OK, I've had a couple rides but job hunting and trying to get my act together to take on the road take more time than hours in a day.

However, for Dale's birthday we did get to Yosemite for a day-trip.

Approaching the valley, we stopped to scramble around some rocks and a stream.

There is a bit of a rock tunnel entering the park.

The Dogwood was in bloom and almost as beautiful as my bride.

While difficult to see here, the little speck on the skyline is a climber traversing from Lost Arrow to the valley wall.

The waterfalls were in full flow.

The force of so much water makes quite a windy, wet, splash.

Half Dome was impressive as ever.

As was El Capitan.

Had to put down the Ford

The Other Day, we had to put her down. She was a terrific SheBeast who did us well for quite a while when we needed her. But her repairs out-weigh her worth and that is saying a lot for 2 tons of fun. Also, with the move to New York . . . well, it was time. We are sad about it. Really.

So, we sold her to Pick-N-Pull salvage. Fast, easy, no listing, smogging, test drives, or complaints. They may resell her or part her out as an organ donor to other Box Body Fords.

But the scene at P-N-P was one for which we were unprepared.

First, any car that slows below 5 MPH gains the immediate attention of all the salvagers who know that in this business, one is either first or last. We were quite uncomfortable about some or all of the Prius, Macy, of Dale might go while I went into the office. As I approached the office, swaggering through the parking lot comes a woman in too small, too tight, Capri pants and leopard print stilettos with her parolee tracking ankle bracelet just blazing out loud and proud. The crowd parted. Nobody was interested in testing her. Me least of all.

Then things got kind of tense as a Big Man thought the line paying the $2 admission to the yard was moving too slow:

"Get that sissy out of the way. I'm a man. I'm a real man!"

What kind of life leads someone to assert whatever authority he can in this way?

The entire saga of this "quick and easy, down and dirty" transaction of dumping the Ford took a big portion of the day. We were burnt and sad returning to Berkeley, but knew that we had done what we had to. As we enter town, we notice a group of 5 riders heading out for an afternoon ride on bikes probably averaging a few thousand dollars each.

Same planet; different world.

So, I’m off to “The Great White Way”: Broadway, New York City.

As you may already know, Dale accepted CUNY’s admission to the PhD program in English. The first day of classes will be our wedding anniversary: August 26.

“Gee, if only we could get some kind of sign that this is the right thing to do!”

Ya think?! We are so psyched! Dale has been fighting with ETS and applying to programs for at least five years and she is finally accepted into the best fitting program with the greatest breadth, depth, and engaging faculty to which she ever applied.

“Oh wonderful!! Oh No!!”

We’ve lived in the same place for over thirty years and we will move over 3,000 miles. I’ll find a job, we’ll find a place to live and garage the Love Van, move a library, piano, five bicycles, four surfboards, a serious tool box, and then some in six months.

Philip Henslowe: Mr. Fennyman, allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.
Hugh Fennyman: So what do we do?
Philip Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well.
Hugh Fennyman: How?
Philip Henslowe: I don't know. It's a mystery.

Stay tuned! This should be an interesting adventure and hopefully, I will continue to bicycle a bit.