go out and eat some wings with my good buddy russell and our little
friend mitsuko. the mariners were losing by 16 runs and i bet russell
$1 on 1:1,000,000 odds that they'd win. we ended up losing by 18. all
was fine when "
me and julio down by the schoolyard"
started playing and i started dancing in my seat. the cook from
the back noticed and came up front to dance too. "come back and
we'll dance some more!" he yelled to us as we walked out.
i got home to find the fatherly unit trying to sleep on the
couch. i could tell he wasn't really asleep for i would have
heard the snores from outside the house if he truly was out. mom
yelled at me to get some rest, so after she stopped yelling i put on
all my gear before i went to bed. the spandex shorts, the jersey
top, the gloves, the sweatband, and i would have put the helmet on too
but it would have made me look like a dork going to sleep with a helmet
on.
it wasn't more than three hours later that i woke up to my dad
screaming in joy, with a slight dash of fear "we're going to
portland! on our bikes now!" he maniacally laughed until i got
outta bed to tell him he could stop. then he laughed some
more. we got up to husky stadium and i stared outside in awe of
all other bikers who got up at 4 in the morning to travel 200 miles by
bike. not something that i would think people would do by
choice. i mean i did it out of convenience. all expenses
paid trip to portland, and a cool new outfit to go with.
"everyone be safe! enjoy your ride and stay hydrated!" a man
shouted and everyone was off! boy was this trip going to be great!
a unicyclist passed us up just shortly after we started, and after i
got stopped laughing and whiped the tears from my cheeks we passed
him. at the beginning of the marathon, everyone is in a big group
almost like what you see on tv with the tour de france going on.
yelling out when to slow and pointing out potholls... it wasn't too
long until i was doing the same thing. my father and i cruised on
through seattle, kent, and in auburn we saw a fellow fall. he was
part of a large group who almost seemed like an ant colony. all
moving in the same direction to base and the instant something goes
wrong... they all turn to help fix it. "see that, that's what
happens when people are wreckless." my dad says. i could tell
that this was a forshadow of the pace he intended on going for the rest
of the trip.
i would ride right behind him and try to coax him into going at a
faster pace. after the first 50 miles, he started to get
annoyed. i drive at the pace of the fastest car of the road, and
if i had my way, it'd be the same way for cycling. this was both
my father's and i's first time to do something of this nature so i
sucked it up and stayed behind. the only time i did go ahead was
during large hills where i got to sprint up and rest at the top to wait
for the old man.
the half-way stop was centralia where we ate some bland spaghetti for
$5. "eat it up, it tastes like s*&% but we need the carbs for
later!" he says. i think he's been reading too many cycling
magazines. riding a bike long distances is almost like straddling
a swing with a wooden seat and having someone kick the seat up from
under you while you sit there. the sorest part of my body
during the ride wasn't my legs, it was my rear.
after we passed the first turn out of the halfway point i heard a young
girl say "hey guys" out of my left ear. so i turned to wave hello
when all i could see were 4 boobies resting on the windowcill of an old
centralia house. immediately i did a "curl into a ball"
move with both hands covering my eyes followed by a "try not to make a
fool of yourself in front of girls again" move by skidding my back tire
and clipping out to keep my balance. my dad, as i did...
looked. but not as i did, he looked again. and again in a
NOT AS I DID fashion... he let out a loud "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
he never used to do that when i was a kid. guess i know know that
when he was telling me to cover my eyes during rated-r movies... he was
actually keeping the boobs to himself.
old ladies and children in the small towns we passed stayed by the road
to watch the riders and spray water on us. "it must be really
boring to live in one of these towns" i thought. we met my mom
and sister at a small high school just outside of oregon that
night. i went to look at my pictures that i had taken, but sadly
there was a dark spot in the middle of my
camera screen.
i shrugged and tried to go to sleep. the girls slept in the car
while my dad and i slept in our sleeping bags under the stars.
"aahh... another day tomorrow" he says while i stare up at the big or
little dipper... i could never tell which one was which.
we got up at 5 in the morning again, took some pictures, and were off
again. this time there were less cyclist around and it was just
my dad and i. we crossed over a large one lane bridge that
suspended over the mouth of the columbia. oregon! portland
was only 50 more miles away. i stuck with the old man until it
started to get really warm. we were 5 miles outside of portland
and i was tired of getting passed by grandmas in their banana seat
bikes so i sprinted ahead just until we got to the lloyd center.
i waited for him to come chugging along so we could
cross together.
our old family friends, the fetters, were there with my mom and sister
to congratulate us. gary fetters was my first soccer coach and
seeing him at the end of a long work out was a little bit
nostalgic. we met up with thier son, and my childhood friend,
john. talked and ate at a vietnamese restaurant. we
laughed, made some cultural jokes over how my mom and mrs. fetters,
both native filipinas, could eat the head of a fish.
we left portland with a yellow "i completed the stp" badge fastened to a string and worn like a necklace.
we're already making plans for next year. smeagal even showed some interest. i can't wait.