Pictures!

Well, some pictures.  Here are some of them, I'll work on getting a narrative together with pics and everything, but that'll be lots of work.  For now, enjoy.

http://picasaweb.google.com/alkaloids/Europics

And I'm home

Well not "home" per se at the moment, but in Austin.  I managed to get home last night and a few hours' sleep and reveling in the differences between my life here and my life in Europe:

- I just ate a large super-tasty breakfast (they don't believe in breakfast in Spain, France, or Italy)

- I am drinking coffee.  Real, good, Tanzania peaberry coffee.  Not just espresso (which can and is extremely tasty, but sometimes coffee is just better)

- I am on my laptop at this breakfast place.  My laptop, with a keyboard whose keys I know intimately.

- I am text messaging with friends.  Quite a bit different from 2 weeks being totally disconnected except for your occasional runs into a 1 euro/15 min internet point and too scared to actually deal with trying to figure out one of the payphones there.

So great.  I can snoop on all the conversations around because they're all speaking my language...  It was such a relief landing in JFK and trying to find my bike knowing that any of the employees I talked to would be able to understand my questions.  They may or may not be helpful, but I knew we'd be able to communicate.

Anyway, though, about the trip back.  I woke up at like 7am and commenced building my bike box.  I'd found a big box that had been used to ship something very large and flat (probably close to a 4'x8' flat box, and I figured I'd just convert that into a bike box.  Cool.  I wound up doing that and it wound up fine-ish, but I was a little worried about the cardboard's sturdiness (it wasn't).  I got it all packed and taped I thought securely, and cut a couple of holes in it for handles and was ready to go.  I was going to walk this box down to some tram station, then take the train to Rome Fumenico airport.  Piece of cake.

Well fortunately, Jack was leaving to go to the train station to pick someone up the same time that we figured I needed to be there so he was able to guide me on this adventure.  We get to the door and I grab the box by the handy-dandy handles I'd cut (and even reinforced with a bit of packing tape, and he was like, "Well, it looks like you've done this before."  I assure you, it looked very professional.

"Yup I replied and we started off."  About 10 steps down the road one of the handles I'd cut failed spectacularly.  That hole enlarged by a factor of about 2.  Ugh.  Plan B.  I tried to git a handle on carrying the box and finally agreed to let Jack carry half of it, so we transported it easily to the tram station, and took the tram to the train station.  I bought a ticket and we said goodbye and I boarded the train.  I got to the airport and disembarked and was started to be very worried about this transportation issue.  The bike is titanium, and so I wasn't terribly worried about *it* per se, and really most of everything else in it was dirty laundry, so I really just wanted to get the bike into Delta's hands and let them deal with it.  I had my baggage insured well through having bought the ticket through AmEx, so yes.  Just get it to Delta, and then I'll not have to worry about it until Austin, where who knows what'll come out, but at least the frame will almost certainly be intact.

Rome's airport is pretty funny.  To me it seems that they built a really convenient and state-of-the-art airport and did a great job - typical Italian.  Then, however, they did something decidedly un-Italian and try to append another terminal to this airport.  Originally they'd had terminals A, B, C, D and recently they've added a terminal.  Terminal 5.  I swear, A-D and then 5.  So you get off the train station, and instead of boarding the little tram to terminals A-D, you go outside to get on a little shuttle bus that takes you to Terminal 5.  So this was another mile or so walk with a rapidly-deteriorating bike box.  Owwie.

Terminal 5 is a big warehouse that they've added to house American carriers, it seems.  Delta, American Airlines, US Airways, and maybe some others were there, and so that was interesting.  Whatever.  I get my box through the first long line - probably 30 minutes - as someone security checks something about me, and then I take my box with me to the next room, where there is a very short line for actually checking the bike.  The woman blanched when she saw the box and after about 5 minutes of research and phone-talking, told me that since it was oversized it was going to be an extra $100.  I told her no, I'd talked to the people at Delta, and though their policies were terribly confusing, it seemed that it was possible you could interpret it that the bike was free if packed properly on an international flight.  At least that's what the person I'd talked to had told me, and had kind of been my experience on the way out.  She was irritated and continued to call and talk to different people, and then finally asks me if I've let the air out of the tires and taken the pedals off (yes), and then tells me that ok, then good.  That's proper, and I need to pay $150.

Well done me.  I continued to protest, etc, and her supervisor came over and told me that yes, this was the case, and if I'd not been charged in Austin, it was because someone had "pulled his ear" or something.  Must be some Italian idiom.  So I paid the fee and let it go.  I was pretty sure it was overweight, too, and was just glad they'd not thrown it on the scale...  Seriously, they really need to get their baggage-policies well-defined and implemented and known.  It shouldn't be that hard.  I'd at that point spent well over an hour speaking with different Delta employees trying to interpret the policies about this bike and had had several different interpretations.  I'd heard lots of horror stories of people paying > $200 each way to fly their bike, so I was happy to get off with the $150 for the round trip.

So I pay and walk to the next security check (I don't know, I think I showed my passport about 5 times) and and then get on a different bus that takes us back to Terminal C, which is where my gate was.  So "Terminal 5" seems to just be where they check in the Americans, and it's a plain ugly warehouse.  

I get some chocolate bars at the duty free shop and board the plane for the 9hSomething flight back to NYC.  I very nearly bought olive oil, or a handy-dandy 3-pack of wine for gifts, but decided that even with the duty-free-ness, the weakness of the dollar probably doesn't make buying wine in Rome to take back to the States worthwhile.  Lots of signs stated that you didn't need to worry, nothing you bought in the Duty Free shops would give you any problems with security or anything.  It's pretty crazy on these flights to fall asleep for a bit, wake up, eat dinner, watch a movie, and see the screen show that you've still got 5h50m left until landing.  Whew.  This flight was fine and comfortable, though, and I did a lot of sleeping and writing.  

We were about to land and they come on and announce that if you'd just bought anything from the Duty Free shops or the little cart they bring through the plane, and were transferring in NYC, you would need to pack any liquids into your checked luggage when you do the re-claiming your bags, taking them through customs, and then re-checking them and going back through security.  Wow, sounds delightful.  Glad I hadn't bought anything.

So we land and go to baggage claim and I start waiting and waiting and waiting.  I asked a man about it, and he said it'd probably come down the chute, but it would be last, and if not, then it would be in some elevator.  No problem.  I wait and wait and wait and wait and finally it's just me and the other 14 people from that flight from Rome whose baggage hadn't arrived.  Whee.

They told us to just go on and make our connections, and they would get the baggage.  I wanted to check to make sure that it wasn't in the elevator, so asked and the woman said that the elevator lights that indicated something had come down weren't on, but she would send guys to check.  One came back quickly saying that no he'd not seen it, but about 5 minutes later, some guy shows up with my box.  It had apparently not even made it to the elevator, but someone had just randomly stashed it somewhere and he'd found it.  Go Delta. 

And, of course, an entire corner of the box is missing.  A huge corner, was just gaping wide open.  I told the baggage service woman there - well she saw it - that this was obviously not good and that I was almost certainly missing something.  She told me not to worry about it yet, just re-tape it after taking it through customs and when I'm re-checking the box in with Delta.  I do this and really didn't worry about it that much.  My clothes were in the far corner, and the only things I thought would have fallen out I wasn't terribly worried about.  To be honest, the only things that I was really worried about making it home was the new italian underwear in my carry-on bag (and that was pretty much the only thing in that bag) and my frame.  I had much faith in AmEx to be able to make everything else right.

So I get it re-checked in and checked through and taped up and everything was good.  I talked to several people in the NYC airport, and it was lots of fun.  I met some people - one girl who had been on my flight from Rome and a group of 4 older women who were cousins from around TX and now that their kids are gone they travel together regularly.  My flight, however, was not that much fun.  I don't know what happened but at that point I started having issues feeling mildly sick and miserable and tired and hot and cold and ugh.  I just had my iPod in and tried to sleep as much as possible. 

After what seemed like FOREVER, we were landing, and they said something about some medical emergency on board so we should sit in our seats for awhile while they got that woman to medical attention.  I had somehow failed to notice some kind of huge dramatic trauma.  Oops.  The girl I met who had been up front and seen it said she'd almost come to wake me and see if maybe I knew anything - since I was studying Neurobiology, cute - but hadn't.  I'm pretty surprised I missed it all.  What that did mean, though, was that we were on the ground and at the gate in about 10 seconds flat.  I've never been on a plane cornering close to that hard on the ground.  Quite fun.  

We get off and Lindsay finds me and that was wonderful.  I went to the baggage people and tell them that I've got a box coming that's damaged, and he seems shocked that I would have been told to make a claim in Austin, and that it may be too late.  Cute, but yeah, no, that wasn't going to cut it.  I waited until the box came, and wow.  It was DEMOLISHED.  It came out on its side and was completely torn open on one of the large sides.  Like, completely standing wide open.  I let him know that all this was new, and he was very helpful and got me my claim started saying that there wasn't really a huge rush, but to get it inventoried at home and see about damage as soon as possible.  Phew.  So Lindsay and I carry this tattered beyond all recognition box to the car and I got home.  Home.  To Austin.  To my house.  To my shower.  To my bed.  Phew.

I did the inventory this morning and it seems that the only thing that is missing is one pedal - amazing.  But that still requires buying a new pair, which is fine.  I guess technically my shoes were my baggage when I lost them so I think I'll file the claim with AmEx or whoever for a new pair of pedals and new shoes.  I guess that makes their $150 charge to me for transporting the box a wash - at least to me.  But yes.  Now to get caught up on life.

Today I need to get my driver's license replaced (had lost it shortly before the trip), my lost Visa reported (I lost my spare up somewhere near Baiardo I think - up in the alps - along with my photocopy of my passport and plane ticket and 50 emergency euro, oops), and my pictures and riding data uploaded and shared and all this.  Oh yeah, and get groceries.  And generally get my life back in order.  Phew.  What a blast.

Pictures are coming.  Don't worry.

Phew...

So tired, but it's my last night in Rome... How amazing. The end of this trip... Tonight I'm staying with this couple I met on the train from Siena to Roma who are FROM Austin and have lived in Rome for 2 years, but are moving back to Austin in 2 weeks. Crazy!

They are amazing and fantastic people and I'll write more about them, but for now, I'm going back out to see the Font de something something. The big one with mermaids.

Rome is ridiculous. I don't know how a èlace like this can exist. Simply amazing...

And I have a new lave for pavement. My body aches after riding Stacy around for hours and hours and hours on these cobblestones. Wowee.

To think, 12h20m from now my plane leaves back to Austin. I miss home a lot, but will certainly miss here. What an amazing trip... I'll spend most of the day Wednesday, I think, updating this blog and writing and recreating the route on Google maps, etc... Wow. I definitely found what I was looking for. And then some.

Rome!

I'm here and had an amazing day and am now running out the door. I am at this hostel recommended by some friends I met in Siena (they hadn't been here) and it's literally kids just like crawling off the walls... Funny.

Why am I here?

To experience - not just SEE but really and fully experience - beauty. I have figured out - after much soul and country-searching - the reason for my trip. I've lots more planned to write, but I'm off to see Siena at night with my Roman buddy and a couple of Germans. How fun.

And yes, the region between Lucca and Siena was STUNNING. I think I'll stay in Siena for a full day before heading down to Rome...

On the road again...

So I'm leaving the charming and beautiful and expensive and amazing little town of Lucca today, after 3 nights. Sheesh! Who'd have thought?

I'm going to go through Castelvecchio and down to Siena. I've decided to skip Florence entirely for a number of reasons - maybe next time. But I will, I'm thinking, try to get to Rome on like Sunday afternoon and spend a couple days there.

Want to grab lunch in Pisa?

Phew, I need pizza. Today I rode to Pisa with Mario (my German buddy) then down along the coast to Livorno (beautiful) and we parted ways and I went generally east (I had had a town in mind but promptly forgot the name as I was leaving Livorno...) I rode southeast for awhile and at like 80k out decided it was about time to start making progress again northwards. Phew. So I started heading generally north, and (after a gelato/coke stop) eventually got myself to a point where I could see on my (featureless except my path on a blank slate) Garmin map that Lucca seemed to be on the other side of these mountains I was staring at. Awesome.

I'd wanted to do some leg-breaking, so though I had finally started picking up "Lucca" signs, I headed away from the Lucca signs and up the mountain. I came to this amazing town, Buti, and as I was climbing through, my path merged with another cyclist (like on a sexy bike and in spandex cyclist) and so I asked him (I think) if Lucca was that way. He seemed to affirm that is was, but that path was molto "salida(sp?)". I figured he meant steep and awful, which was perfect for me.

So 10k and 800m of elevation later we got to the top. It was AMAZING. It was apparently the Monte Serra mountains we crossed, and starting the descent, we could look over the side and see all of the eastern Tuscan plain and then a short while later, look to the west and see to the sea. Unbelievable.

After a terrifying descent, I got down and made my way across to Lucca and now am here, showered, and about to go find pizza and somewhere to wash my clothes. Awesome.

But seriously, 115k of flat/rolling, then a leg-eating 10k climb (that was apparently part of the Giro D'Italia 3 or 4 years ago), then a descent and like 20v into Lucca for a total of like 146km. Holymoly.

Holy Lucca

And a whole different kind of Italy... Here I found a hostel in the city center (inside the walls and next to like THREE bike shops)... I decided to be brave and try the youth hostel, despite being concerned about the word "youth" (apparently that's like an old tradition, the word youth has nothing to do with anything, lots of like 50 year olds). I'd tried to get one in Narbonne, but like everything else in France, was foiled.

Anyway, I'm here and so unbelievably happy. TIRED but so happy. I was in my room for like 2 minutes before a roommate walked in and he was a fit, my-age looking guy and said hello, and it turns out he's German and is cycling from his home in Germany to Sardinia (900k in 6 days - impressive). He's packed much lighter than I am, and I learned some things from him (like the bag situation, but I have like 5 pages written in my little book about that). But yes, he's very cool and we talked, went shopping, had dinner, and chatted about all kinds of stuff until late-ish. Today he's just got the last (and) short leg of his trip... Here to Pisa and Livorno. So I'm going to join him, then ride back here. I'm definitely going to stay in Lucca for a few days... Today will be that short trip (< 100k) and I'll get mapped and oriented and try to do a 200k or something day.

So gorgeous here... I walk around a corner and get the chills because there's some old church or square or fountain. Amazing. And the mountains - I can't wait to get Stacy back into the mountains. She's going to miss them back in Austin, but we'll make do somehow. There are SOOOO many bikes and cyclists here, I can't wait to start exploring. I woke up early and saw the sun rising over Lucca from the wall surrounding the city center. My whole perception of beauty has been totally broken by this trip.

Oh, and now I know what people mean by, "Everyone in Italy speaks English." Apparently they really mean everyone not in Liguria... It's now very easy to find English speakers, but that's no fun. I still ask for things in Italian and get a fairly even mix of responses in Italian and English... I can't wait to come back and actually speak Italian...

I'm already envisioning the Team Hump training camp next summer and planning where I think we'll be best off staying...

I crack myself up...

And not just cycling through tiny old old old mountain towns where the people stop on the street to stare as I go by and I grin and yell, "Ciao!"

Today I decided to catch a train to like, Tuscany. So I go to the train station (and all this is mapless) and buy a ticket to Parma. Why to Parma you ask? I have no idea... It was like a 4h ride from Diano Marina to La Spezia where I was to change trains, and on that train ride I think to myself, "Self, do you have any idea where Parma is?" The answer is definitely no.

So I got to La Spezia and realized that I was on the right track, but catching that next train would have hosed me. So new ticket buoght, and now I have like 20 minutes until my train leaves to Viareggio. That's pretty close...

Best plan ever!

K. This will have to be short since Stacy is waiting outside looking inconspicuous... I took the train to Nice as I'd mentioned, and arrived at like 7:30pm. I wanted to be in Italy so I just hauled out of there. Suffice it to say, it was amazing. I climbed over Monaco and arrived in Italy just as it was getting dark (don't worry mom, I have lights). I arrived in Ventimiglia and found a room (phew) and laid in bed trying to sleep antsy like it was Christmas Eve.

Then I loaded up (since the country of Italy can't be bothered to do ANYTHING before 10 or so, and headed out. It was easily the BEST day of my life. I had gelato at the base of the alps, climbed up to this little castle at like 900 meters (Dolceacqua-Castelvittorio-Baiardo) then descended to San Remo and headed along the coast for awhile until I found this little town of Diano Marino. I found a hotel there, and am a celebrity there. I had three more servings of gelato that night (two of them while walking on the beach). I'd had so much fun I decided to stay an extra day and so did a day of climbing without all my gear and it was amazing. Topped it off by joining up with a couple of cyclists (on beautiful Italian bikes) after lunch and rode back down to the sea and along the coast with them.

I need to go get gelato and chocolate milk. I looked for like 2h this morning for a computer I could use but these little towns I love so much don't really open on Monday mornings... I've been looking for computers and such to check in, and now know what to ask for, so it should be more regular.

Ciao!

Change of plans...

Ok, to be honest I've composed this post in my head about 27 different times and in 27 different ways, as I've been on the emotional roller-coaster that has been today, but here goes.

In my guidebook about France, in discussing this region, it said something like, "The region [Languedoc] is characterized by fierce winds that roar off the mountains.  They're especially strong through the spring and into early summer."  Now, if you're me, and you're planning out this little journey, what would that mean to you?  Would you think perhaps, "Well, I just crossed the Pyrenees, wow!  That'll be great!  Tailwind as I make my way across France!"  If you did, then you would apparently be amazingly wrong.  

I set out from Perpignan with mixed feelings.  It was a very cool city, and I'd had a great time there, but had made some mistakes (leaving my map at home) and spent needless hours wandering around lost.  I had, however, made some friends at a little wine bar and they had a great time talking - more about me than to me, I think.  One of the women said she spoke English, but speaks about as much English as I do Italian (not a ton, but can generally communicate - kind of).  Another spoke it quite well, but not well enough to have a conversation about anything meaningful.  I was able to get some words out of her (like learned some stuff) and generally had a good time.  To them, I was "buo garcon" - pretty boy.  Fun.

Anyway, I rolled out of Perpignan at like 9:30am and had a HUGE day ahead of me.  My tentative schedule had this as my first *big* day and so I was going to try to make it to Montpellier, something like 160km by the map that I generated on viamichelin.com (but didn't print or bring).  I didn't bring the map because I've kind of grown fond of the method of orienteering of getting a map with just some of the towns laid out, and just navigating town to town.  Works very well.  

I escaped the perimeter of Perpignan (which was an industrial wasteland) with my load mostly intact.  I'd tried to add to my load a baguette and a couple of tomatoes, but I'll just go with the short version of that was a failure.  I hate everything about my luggage/transporting situation except that it's attached to my bike.  That I love.  Knog will most certainly be getting an angry letter from me.  But anyway, once I got out of the city, the wind became apparent.  I honestly don't have much of an idea of how to gauge wind, but I'll guess that the wind was out of the NNW at about 20-25 mph.  What this means is that when I'm at a wind-fighting speed of 30 mph (a punishingly hard pace under normal circumstances) I'm really going 5-10mph.  I was in my easiest few gears on the majority of the ride, in wide open flat fields, suffering.  And suffering.  And suffering.  There were some mountains to my left (the west) that I thought would change the wind quite a bit once I got past them (maybe this would become a tailwind, I hoped) but still after passing them it came out of the NNW and hurt me.  So badly.  It was so funny, when the road would turn NE, and I had a 25 mph crosswind, it felt heavenly.  I wanted to sing.

So ridiculous, people shouldn't have to ride their bikes in circumstances like that.  Apparently the mountains (I rode north of all the mountains I could see) that that guide book was talking about was Antarctica.  I took frequent give-up-and-sit-on-the-side-of-the-road-in-a-ditch or go-into-this-little-town-to-have-an-espresso breaks, and so all in all, after a grueling 7h of traveling, I'd gone 80 km.  My Garmin has me at 4:19 of actual riding, but I don't feel like it was leisurely.  Didn't even stop for a proper lunch and I'm now exhausted.

I adjusted my goal to reach the town of Narbonne.  Why I even demanded of myself that I get there (why not just turn around and ride with a tailwind, nobody cares) is kind of a mystery to me.  But I made it.  Built character perhaps.  I got here, though, and found the tourist office and the girl at the desk was kind enough to tell me that pretty much she hates Narbonne, there's no people around anywhere and the town is dead.  She was stunningly Frenchly attractive (as each tourist office it seems has one of those) but not entirely helpful.  She did arm me with a map and a list of hotels and their rough prices.  I went to this international center hostel thing that looked amazingly promising (surely I'll find a friend there!) but the person at the desk, who spoke pretty much no english, on hearing my request asked for a moment to go consult with his english-speaking coworker and came back to inform me, "We're closed tonight."  He was proud of his english phrase and all, but I felt like crying.

I dug myself out of that little hole and went to a hotel that looked promising - a bit out of the city center, but probably less than 500m to bustling streets - and got here.  I was informed that they had a room but it was 40 euros.  I looked sad, and so he said there was a cheaper room with the toilet in the hallway for 38 euros.  Still I was sad as that was too much.  Then he started mumbling a bit (speaks good english, by the way, which is wonderful) and told me that he could book me in a double room, but since it was just me it was only 32 euro.  Well that sounded good, so he asked if I wanted to see it and lo and behold, it's 2 twin beds with its own bathroom featuring a toilet AND BATH!  I was ecstatic, but it didn't show, because honestly I was way too tired.  I came down, we took Stacy out to a little bike parking garage they have there (she has friends to hang out with and none of them are locked, he has the key, so safe) and I came back and asked about finding the internet somewhere.  He looked at me strangely, and I asked about an internet cafe or something.  Still he looked at me strangely (this is like a 25 year old guy by the way) and was like, "Well, if you just want to use it for like half an hour or something, just let me know when you want and you can use my laptop."

Whoo!  So I went upstairs, drew up a bath, (which, in what I presume is a fine european tradition, is like 30 inches long) got in it, and promptly fell asleep.  I was in there for like an hour I think, and woke up to find that all the water had drained out...  I tried to move my legs, but they'd fallen completely asleep given my ridiculous position (I can't even begin to describe or even recreate in my head how I was arranged in there).  Somehow I got out of the tub, however, with a new attitude and some new ideas.

First idea, maybe I'll take a train tomorrow morning up to say, Montpellier, check into a room, leave my stuff there, then take a train like 100km to the north of that and then enjoy that heavenly wind from the north for like 2h as I ride that 100k through the gorgeous countryside.  That seemed like a good idea, and doing adventures like that, I could still make progress on my route to Avignon, but it still leaves me in France for like 4 more days.  I'm still not having the best of time with France, though, since I'm having language problems (severely).  I have this huge mental block against French.  Spanish seemed fine...

Second idea, tomorrow I take a rest day and just take a train to Nice, explore there, and then be in Italy the day after tomorrow?  Better idea, I think.  It gives me a day to recover (my saddle and my backside aren't getting along as well as I'd hoped, I'll have to grab some of that Assos chamois cream tomorrow), and it puts me in Italy soon!  I can practice my Italian and be able to see things written and READ them.  It's stunning to me how anti-intuitive the French language is...

For now, I just finished munching on my baguette (that spent most of its trip here from Perpignan in my jersey pocket with simply the middle of it wrapped in a bit of waxed paper) and cheese that I'd bought at a little market, and am ready to go explore the town.  Perhaps I'll get some shoes...

Thanks so much for the comments, everybody.  They help a lot, this is both as mind-blowing and stunningly difficult as I'd thought.

France Reached!

A fun thing about France is that their keyboard is WAY more weird than Spain's. That means that this is awful.

And I broke the "language selecter" thing so it's extra-confusing now.

Anyway, made it to Perpignan in like 110 km. I'm pretty sure at least 80 of that was necessary. I got a room (all they had left was a deluxe w/ my own bidet but no toilet), and now am off to see the town.

Useful things acquired today:
deodorant - adidas brand
CO2 cartridges
a second water bottle (just for you, James, I crossed the pyrenees with just one)
soap

Spain: 46,0433 Justin: 1

But I think i'm on a roll... Highlights included putting my bike together on a busy sidewalk (think Market St in SF) - quite a spectacle - and losing a shoe at some point in the hills of barcelona (one of my Nike Free's) and so then just throwing the other away. at least my bag closes now. Your first time in a foreign country alone should not come at the end of an overnight flight you didn't sleep a wink on...

I got to Figueres ok and it's quite amazing. Such a cool little town but then with shoppìng to make Stanford blush... And me cruising around in pìnk flip flops.

Anyway, I found a room and now am starving but wanted to check in.

Io stanco.

iPod playlist...

I'd toyed with the idea for quite some time of not taking an iPod at all, but then Joe reminded me that it'll be invaluable in the airport.  I'm certain he's right, and though it sounds romantic to just cruise along listening to nothing but the countryside, I think that perhaps at some points the countryside is not going to be saying much interesting...

My iPod playlist is here.

Packed!

Whoo!  So this afternoon is flying out time, so I thought I'd do some packing today.  Good news is, all my stuff nearly fits in my bag.

Better news is, all that stuff, including bag, weighs a scant 16 lbs.  So that's everything I'm taking but not wearing to the airport.  The clothes I wear to the airport will hopefully weigh not much more than that...  I'm still on the  fence about taking a second lock (a cable lock) and the big bulky sandals that I much prefer.  I may run out to Wal-Mart and get a little pair of $2 black flip flops, but maybe I'll just wear my $2 pink ones.  Or better yet, take them, and if I find a replacement pair, just toss them.  They were only $2 at Wal-Mart.  Or maybe I can donate them to some French/Spanish/Italian woman who has size extra-ginormous feet...

Here's Stacy all race-er....  No, she's not race-ready at all.  She's touring-ready.  Got the rack mounted, the map pouch on the handlebars, Mr. Tuffy tire liners, and the saddle-bag full of everything (hopefully) that I need to put her back together after she gets boxed.  I've transformed her from a ~17 lb accelerate-faster-than-a-sneeze sex machine rocket, to a 40 lb holymoly-I-can't-believe-I-thought-this-was-a-good-idea-to-climb-a-hill-on beast.