Portland Again

I'm back in Portland - the drive is easy from Scotia - and this time of year it's pretty in that east coast fall sort of way. Haven't done much riding these past three months - the longest span ever - first, two months at the bike shop - then a month at my mom's. Got some logging road riding in, but just some. And now, on a beautiful day I opted to lay in bed reading with my cats instead of venturing out on my bike. I'd rather go for a drive to tell the truth. Drive out to Higgins Beach and walk on the beach. Only I'd miss my dog too much to do that. I'm tired. Worn out. Worn down.

BUYING ROAD BIKES

My full-time stint at Cyclesmith Halifax is drawing to a close. Two months have passed since I began working there, and I've gotta say it's been awesome in it's own bike shop way. Last year I worked at another shop, back in Vic, and it was a different experience all together. That shop had just opened. CS has been around for more that a quarter century. They have their differences but some of the experiences have been the same. Mostly I'm fascinated by customers. I like the customers who.... come in to look at, say........ road bikes. They want to buy a new road bike. I like all customers (ok well not all), but road bike customers are predictable and pretty much, if they're buying a bike from a shop, all the same. They're enthusiastic and happy about getting into the sport. But still, they're......

..... scared, vulnerable, nervous. I like them because I can relate to all that. First of all, I know, as a female, it's death defying to walk into a bike shop and be "interested" in a bike. But I also know now that this is equally true for most guys. So when I see someone walk in all nervous and vulnerable and scared I feel it's my responsibility to try and control, as much as possible, how they feel when they leave.

What I want them to feel when they leave is relaxed, informed, and confident. I want them to feel like they can walk into any bike shop in the future and not be threatened. But because the human species is broken down into two genders it's a good idea to have two approaches, one for men and one for women. In the end I want to achieve the same result of course, but it's good to be aware of what's going on in front of you. You've gotta let people be who they are.

Women like information and they want it right up front and no messing about. What they don't know they can deal with and what they do know they won't let you forget. And I'm a woman so I like this, because information is easy to give and I like to know where folks are coming from. In many ways women are easier to deal with than men. Women (generally) have done more homework, or if they haven't they're more open to understanding the information I have. I say things like "it's not complicated, it's two wheels, a frame, and bunch of stuff that makes it go, and some cables. It's easy. All the bikes are fundamentally the same. Let's figure out what kind of riding you'll be doing and then let's find a bike that fits your body and your budget." This approach seems to help the customer relax A LOT. We attack details later.

But men. O men have to approach it all differently. It takes time with men. Through all the insecurity and nervousness stuff you just need to let them go for a bit. It's like they're at a bar looking around at the other people, checking them out. Except they can touch. First they grab the front wheel lightly and looking lovingly down the side of the bike. They say this looks light (very serious expression on face). How much does it weigh? Then they slid their hand along the down tube, eyes falling inevitably on the rear derailieur. They mumble something halfway comprehensible because someone somewhere in the past 24 hours has told them they should insist on Ultegra. Or was it Sora? Is that a level above?. Then they move on to the next bike that catches their eye. They can't help it, they say geesh this looks sporty. I bet it's fast, eh? Does this come in red? O recover. Again they generally mumble something about duragra. This helps. I know they are serious. And then things really do get serious. They're done window shopping now and they're done letting me know they halfway know what they're talking about and they BOOM, lay the facts on the table. (So far I haven't had to say a word.) And then we get down to business. It's a drawn out process, but I don't mind. Men and women are different.

But basically I do the same for both. I don't think it's the right or wrong way, I simply draw from my own life experiences and hope that this approach reaches across the bridge. I've been around long enough to know that nothing is really that complicated. So with bikes I keep these things in mind and try to convey the simplicity: it's two wheels, a frame and some metal that varies in weight and movement; riding is fun, no matter what sort of riding it is; and pretty much anyone can do it.

So the week will be winding down soon. I am excited and sad at the same time. These past five months have been all about transition. But being part of the team that is Cyclesmith has been informative, challenging and memorable. I hope to remain connected as part-time team-member while I decide what the hell I am doing with my life!!!!! "Get in line!!!" as someone once said. :)

BIKE SHOP 101

For the past nearly two months I've been working at Cycslesmith, a bike shop in Halifax Nova Scotia. Not one single day of this has been easy. There is so much to know about bikes it's unfathomable. And the more I learn the more I realize how little I know.

However, two weeks ago a guy called, very serious about seeing if we could order in a seat post for his bike. His very special tri bike. He really sounded like he knew what he was talking about and threw all kinds of brand jargon and techno talk my way with a tone that clearly said I know more about this than you. But I took big breaths and organized my brian and kept quiet while he spoke. I caught and captured key words on paper. I checked the computer, opened the catalogue, saw the seat post and asked him the first question that came to mind: what size do you need? Silence. I prompted him: 27.2? Nothing.

This was a valuable lesson for both of us. For him he missed the most important part in his research and in doing so revealed to me, a mere girl, that he didn't know enough about his own bike to order a seat post. For me it was a valuable experience because I realized that while there is no way I'm ever going to know every little detail of every product out there I already have a basic and fairly OK understanding of "the bike". I need to keep the bigger picture in mind and work out smaller details like specific products slowly and methodically. And ask a lot of questions.

There will always be people who know more and there will always be people who know less (than me)(about bikes). At the shop I'm fairly confident in some areas and completely lost in others. But what I do know is that while some days it feels like rocket science, it's close but not quite. This is a small comfort and I'm not being sarcastic.

There are a few sections to this job. 1) New bikes on the floor 2) really old bikes brought in for repair 3) sorting out what customers are talking about 4) answering the phone (always complicated) 5) really old bikes brought in for repair (did I already mention that one?) 6) learning products (and I don't mean simply bikes here) oh and the list goes on and on. I mentioned really old bikes brought in for repair, didn't I? Some days I'm afraid of customers. Some days I'm terrified of the next question. Some days are insanity. Cyclesmith is the busiest shop I've ever seen. There are days when the entire staff does not stop. (Most days.) There are line ups. The phones ring off the hook. The cash never stops. The bikes don't get built fast enough. Pretty much mayhem most days, and it's tough being new.

The LiveStrong Challenge

My friend M will be riding with Lance Armstrong next month to raise money and awareness for cancer. This link is his letter to the world, the reason he is riding, and his thoughts as he trains. M LiveStrongChallenge.

Hi.

Is it all random or planned? Are we in control or are we just crazy? Yep these are the thoughts rolling around my head.

Driving home tonight I noticed the stereo dash lights weren't lighting up and this annoyed me. Lately my car hasn't always been starting on command, so this was like, $hi!, now what? So I pull over, shut the car off thinking that maybe I'd startle the dash lights into coming on by restarting the engine (good theory right?). But I only startled the car into not starting. So now there's no dash lights and no car start. In a fit of madness I jump out, rock the car in park, catch a glimpse of a passer-by looking at me oddly, get back in, turn the key, and presto, everything goes back to normal. Car starts. Dash lights come on. Mazda3. Built by Ford. WTF was I thinking not buying a Honda. Anyway. Not much else to say about THAT.

Except.

I had to laugh. I laughed right out loud. I mean who cares if the dash lights don't work? (Actually I do.) And who cares if the car doesn't always start? (Actually I do.) But in the bigger picture it's just really funny. Like if this all I have to get annoyed about life is pretty darn good.

And life is good. I keep reminding myself of that. I have a car to get annoyed at. Bikes that break and need fixing. A job to complain about. Food that goes bad. Sleep that gets interrupted. Silence that gets broken. I laugh about the car tonight because a moment of clarity catches me off guard and I think how funny it is to get annoyed by dash lights. In that moment of clarity I think how lucky I am to drive, to own a car, to ride a bike for pleasure, to be an artist and be able to do what I love, to have a fridge full of food, to crawl into bed at night and be safe and warm, to be awakened by the sound of school children laughing and playing in the sunshine.

I'm fumbling my way through the days right now, making mistakes and tending wounds. But not many people I know aren't, except some of the younger ones. As I read somewhere yesterday, the bad news is time is going to fly by, and the good news is you're the pilot.

That's all I've got right now, the transition into Halifax has been full-time consuming. Some riding but not much.

CATCHING UP

These guys are on their way to Newfoundland. From Victoria. They were in Halifax, Nova Scotia, when I took the picture at Cyclesmith on Quinpool Road. They stopped by to get some bike stuff taken care of. I've lost their names and website, bummer, but they're filming the trip, making a documentary. Someday I'll find that little piece of paper.....

So I'm working at Cyclesmith now. It's totally crazy busy and my first week was overwhelming, but fun selling so many bikes. People are stoked. They walk in and say "I'm here to buy a bike!". It's a little strange in some ways, the job, because that's where Dan and I met. He used to work there. I was the customer. Then the GF. Then it was Forever. Then BC happened. And now it's AD. The really great side is that the bike was his gift to me. Dan introduced me to bikes. Riding has given me a community wherever I go, and now a really fun job.

Being back is great. Rode Whopper today. Totally howling inside at stuff that was hard when I started riding in 2003. I'd see a rock and think WHAT?? Laughing remembering pulling the front wheel up a thousand million times in frustration, asking Dan to do it again and again so I could watch.

The granite was nice. Beautiful in fact. And other than it eats tires for dinner and dessert, it's lovely to ride. I love the fast flow you can get on granite, it compliments the technical tactics you need for the interior single track.

The puddles on the power line reminded me of Jada. It snuck up on me, the thought, the image of Jada running full tilt down the power line and hitting a puddle at mach chicken, so totally real. It caught me off guard and I looked up ahead for Dan and that was a hard hard moment.

Lake loop was fun. More technical than I remember. My thoughts went back to a conversation with Max Plaxton about east coast riding. I wish Max had been on the trail with me today. After Whopper I'da dragged him over to Fight Trail just for kicks. He'd never confuse Ontario for east coast riding again. :) Great season Max is having BTW. Check him out at Team Sho Air. Fantastic year and it looks totally good on him. Nice to see that smile and success.

I have to mention one other thing, and it happened on today's ride, but it can happen anywhere here. It's that moment when the breeze pulls up and reaches out to you unexpectedly. Just for a second. It blows by, says hey, cools you, caresses your face, and carries on its way. It's totally lovely.

Scotia

The ride down the Champs-Ellyees marked the end of my time in Portland. Last Monday I hopped in the zoom-zoom mobile and pointed her nose north-east for the 12 hour drive, arriving in Truro late Tuesday night. During the next two days exhaustion, heat and humidity consumed me and I turned to putty, a lump of putty plopped on the floor, unmoving. I tried going for a run cause I knew my legs weren't there for a ride, but running was impossible. Another day of sleep and drowsiness passed before the batteries were charged enough to move on to Halifax.

Sometimes when it talks like a duck and walks like a duck it's a friggin duck. From the first days in Vic I'd felt misplaced. Something always seemed wrong, like the uncomfortableness you get rubbing your hand against the grain, rough yet maybe tolerable and after awhile you're hand goes numb from the friction and you start thinking that's cool. I'm cool. It doesn't hurt. But man, I don't feel anything.

So while Vancouver Island offered up some of the best learning experiences in life, on and off the bike, it is with a big big sigh that I breath deeply the air of my hometown. This place, this province is manageable to me. The scale of things. The friendliness of its' people. It's modesty. I'm not saying I won't be back in Vic, I'm just saying for now, this is where I need to be. This is where the little slot labeled "Kelly" exists.

So no more whining man. I've been whining for three years and finally, suprizingly, all it took was getting my ass back here. Everything feels right, the planets have aligned, satisfaction is the air I breath. The thick satisfyingly sweet salty air rushing in off the Atlantic fills my lungs and I am home.

And now it's off to ride the basin and sambro :) giddy up