Highway Haiku

Car in front smells bad
tailpipe toxicity,
Midas - rescue me!

217 jammed up
26 is not much better
Happy day at work beckons

Cars moving slow now
what is that bright light shining?
hubcap on the road

Dream Diary #3

I dreamt I was admiring a motorhome. A great big, modern motorhome. A huge motorhome. The owner was showing me around the cab - pointing out such amenities as the leather captain's chairs, the ergonomically placed controls, fireplace (OK, I'm just making that one up). I was very impressed and he invited me in back to see the living quarters.

To my surprise, the cabin was enormous - it must have been fifty feet long, 25 feet wide and 25 feet tall. It had one (1) piece of furniture. There was a couch at the very back where his wife and daughter were seated. That's it - this enormous living space with one couch, nothing else. It didn't even have windows. The floor, walls and ceilings were covered with white carpeting. I asked why that was, the owner said that helped to dampen the noise to keep the interior from being subjected to echoes.

He invited me back to meet his wife and daughter, and they greeted me warmly with hospitality and charm. He then asked if I would like to see the basement? Think of it - a basement in a motorhome! He went on to explain that when they were not on the road, they had it parked in such a fashion that there was access to a subterranean extension. Sure! Show me the basement!

He pulled up a trapdoor that was concealed by the white carpet next to the couch. I remember very clearly that it was about 3 feet to the side and 2 feet in front of the couch. Not sure why those dimensions were important but in my dream they were. There was a very steep ladder, unfinished wood construction that seemed incongruent with the luxury of the motorhome; that allowed us to descend.

We went down to a asphalt path that wound through a stunning garden. There was a fork in the road so to speak, and I wandered to the left and came upon a high glass wall. Behind the wall was a church sanctuary with pews and a pulpit. It was a very small church, and the owner explained that it was a historical landmark and that the church had been built in the 1800's. Looking in I saw a girl from the past named Jeri in a posture of repentance. That was very strange, I never knew Jeri well at all - she rode our school bus and other than exchanging a few pleasantries now and again we never even had a true conversation. I probably have not thought of her in 30 years, seriously. Anyway, the owner explained that Jeri was confessing that she had smoked pot. Okay then, have no idea why that was part of the dream.

We continued on the tour by backtracking back to the fork in the path. We then came to a large cafeteria. It wasn't enormous but would seat about 50 people or so and had a full grill and kitchen area. There wasn't one person in the cafeteria.

We egressed out in the open and looking back I could see that we had descended quite a ways and the motorhome now rested upon a hill, underneath a hazy sky, with calf length grass gently blowing in the breeze. I had an overwhelming sense of deja vu, that I had been exactly on this hill before. As I slowly turned and surveyed the horizon, I realized that I was in Michigan (I spent a summer there).

And then I woke up.

We went camping

Sherry likes to camp. I like to stay in a hotel. Sherry likes burning food over a firepit. I like room service. Sherry likes to watch the stars. I like to watch a movie. Sherry likes to sleep in a tent. I like to sleep in a king sized bed where you can't even see the alarm clock it's so far away. Sherry likes beer out of a cooler. I like mine in a frosted mug sitting in the evening on our back porch.

OK, I may be exaggerating a wee bit but you get the point. I really, really am trying to be a good husband so I really, really try to be excited that WE ARE GOING CAMPING! Now, to be precise we engage in an outdoor activity called "car camping". Car camping by definition presumes that you are going to camp, i.e. in a tent; however you will use an automobile to transport your camping gear to a well defined 'campsite'. A campsite by definition is a piece of asphalt to park your vehicle, a pre-designed firepit, and a tidy little area. That you pay for. Hey, call me old fashioned but I just don't get going out into the wilderness and having to pay to pitch your tent. But - Cape Lookout where we 'paid to pitch' had hot showers (yes, a concession to the hotel-spoiled husband) so I can't complain too much.

But speaking of too much! Sherry had purchased a new tent. She had taken it to California to 'camp' in my sister's backyard with the niece and nephew. I'm thinking, cool - yeah, a new tent - I can dig it. But check it out! Oh, it had to be an EIGHT PERSON tent. Let's see - there's Dave & Sherry, and Kadie the Dog. Now add Mr. Cash (the cat). Now add Dorie and Torie (the fish). We STILL can't fill it up. Sherry patiently explained to me that the purpose of such largesse was to host a bunch of her friends on the Annual GWE (Girls WeekEnd) trip.


Well, the picture doesn't really do justice to how BIG this tent was. It had - check it out - a large living room/sleeping area, and a separate sun porch or entry room. I'm not making this up, the tent has two rooms. But wait! There's more! The tent has TWO doors! One opens up into the sun porch, and the second allows access directly into the living area. We used the sun porch entrance and dubbed the other entry "the servant's entrance". It also has a nifty loft area that we used to park the 42" Flat Panel Plasma TV. OK, I'm just kidding about that part!

We went to Cape Lookout with our friends Herb and Judy and their kids. It was a nice drive to the coast, a beautiful Friday evening. We arrived and began setting up the tent. It was quickly apparent that the footprint of this enormous tent extended almost beyond the boundaries of our assigned campsite. You often hear the term "pitching the tent", I almost "pitched a fit" but managed to contain myself.

Well, Saturday morning gave all indicators of a fine day ahead. And it was! Alisha (Herb and Judy's daughter) is training for a San Francisco marathon, and I'm training for the Maui Marathon so we had a nice long run on the beach. That night we cooked hamburgers around the campfire and told stories until we laughed so hard our tears mingled with the rain.

WHAT! Rain? If there is one thing in life that you can count on, it's that you can't count on the weather at the Oregon coast. We made our way back to the tents for the night. About 4:00 AM Sunday morning, the rain pounded down. I don't use the word pounded in an exaggerated sense. It managed to find it's way through the rain flap into the tent, and rained for literally hours - hard. We kept hoping it would let up, and it seemed like it was so we decided to break camp.

Of course it started raining again - hard. We realized with our spirits broken and every possible item we brought soaked, muddy or quickly getting that way we'd have to break camp in the rain. It was a miserable soggy experience.

Sherry's beginning to think that a hotel may not be a bad idea at all...

Dream Diary #2

I dreamt that I was with 3 close friends - Tyler, Scott and Misti. I worked with Tyler and Scott in a machine shop when I first moved to Portland. Tyler was a radical dude who was always on the edge of some delinquent endeavor, he was the epitome of cool. Scott was about 5 feet tall and 5 feet wide - he was like a small version of the incredible Hulk. One time we were horsing around and I grabbed his arm. He quickly squeezed his bicep, literally trapping my fingers between his bicep and ham hocked forearm like a vise. I flailed around and tried to escape as he laughed like a maniac. Later on I got my revenge by coming up behind him and slamming his head into a locker. Ah yes, the good old days.

I met Misti at my second Portland job at US Bank. She's been a close friend for many years and we shared a lot of fun adventures. Misti is very pretty, and one day she had broken her ankle and asked if I could help her to her car after work. We worked on the 3rd floor of a building on a night shift and usually bounded up and down the stairs. We got into the elevator and I thought I had pushed the first floor, but we descended to the basement. The door opened and Misti and I were confused, expecting to see the lobby. A janitor happened to be right in front of the door as it opened and was startled to see ugly Dave and beautiful Misti. This next part is rated PG-13 so let the reader beware. I asked if we could get off there, and he stared and said "you can get off wherever you want". OK, maybe our interpretation was taken in the wrong sense but Misti and I cracked up at the double entendre. I can barely remember family birthdays but I always remember Misti's - January 23. It's as easy as 1-2-3! Misti often calls to remind me that my mom's birthday is imminent.

Well, that's probably more background that you need but I am fond of them. Anyway, on to the dream! In my dream Tyler, Scott, Misti and I were working on an oil well. We were wearing yellow hard hats. Suddenly, the drill found purchase and a fountain of black crude erupted and drenched us. I clearly remember us holding hands and jumping up and down like kids as oil showered us and ran off our yellow hard hats. "We're rich!" we screamed, stomping our legs in glee again like kids stomp through a mud puddle.

Not bad so far, right? Well hold on to your yellow hard hats because it gets really weird. It was a dream within a dream, as I found myself chatting with Tyler, Scott and Misti and recounting to them the dream about the oil well and our newfound riches. We all laughed and joked about how nice it would have been to be rich. I know, it's hard to follow - it's like a nested dream, a dream within a dream. Pretty weird, eh?

Dream Diary

I have strange dreams. Vivid, weird dreams. I dream in color. Sometimes I even remember my dreams! Years ago I dreamt I was captaining a PT Boat. I stood at the helm hands gripping the wheel as the three powerful Packard V-12 engines pushed through the waves of the sea as I searched for enemy targets. I could feel the thrum of the engines through the floor as we powered along.

That's just an example.

Recently, I dreamt I was in Los Angeles. I was in a large, old ramshackle warehouse. Sunlight shoved its way through the smog and broken windows, dappling the floor with weak light that diffused in the dust of the air. My friend Tyler (whom I haven't been in contact now for more than 15 years) was there and had a terrible sickness. I was selling him drugs to help him get better.

Then, I left the warehouse and walked down the street to a small bungalow. Apparently I knew the occupants because I just walked in and greeted the mother (I don't remember her name) and her 8 year old daughter, Iris. I sat with them for a while until a knock on the door interrupted our conversation. The mom opened the door and into the room strode Leonardo DiCaprio. In the dream he was a movie star like his real life. Mom greeted him, and then introduced him to me. I did not want to appear star struck so I just casually said "what's up Leo?" "not much" he replied. He asked Iris if she would like to see a magic trick. She said yes and he pulled a red pocket square from his breast pocket of his blue seersucker suit. We all laughed as he made a small red ball disappear from the pocket square.

Then, I excused myself and walked down to a street corner and waited for my grandmother to come pick me up. She pulled up in a light blue Cadillac convertible with a bunch of high school girls and low back tires. This is significant in some way, not because of the girls; but that grandma never drove in her life. Anyway, I hopped in and off we went. Because the tires were so low at each corner the car would lean waaaayyy over as we all laughed. We paralleled some tracks for a light rail of some sort. As we would drive under wrought iron street markers, I would reach up with my hand and touch them as we passed. At one point my hand became caught, and instantly I knew my hand would be severed if I did not react quickly. Fortunately I was wearing gloves and managed to extricate my hand before my metacarpals became mangled.

Then, grandma, the Cadillac and the girls were gone and I was standing at the entrance of a giant Macy's department store. The light rail terminated at the entrance to the store, where signs directed commuters to follow the tracks through the store to the next station on the other side. To guide them the light rails had been burnished to a beautiful copper color and it was a normal Macy's. Except for train tracks right through the middle.

Then, I woke up.

Pole Pedal Paddle 2007

We did not compete in 2006 as our captain Gordon had injured his back, and cyclist (yours truly) was adjusting to becoming an epileptic and had lost training momentum. However, this year we were back with a vengeance! Over the last few years (OK more than a few) I had become everything in life I never wanted to be - an overworked, overweight, stressed out desk jockey. This year though I had a transformation! I'll elaborate more elsewhere, but this year I got serious. I've lost 43 lbs and hugely increased my workout intensity. It made a significant, tangible improvement!

For the uninitiated, Pole Pedal Paddle is a relay race in Bend, Oregon. It starts with a downhill ski at Mt. Bachelor, then transitions into a cross country ski, then transitions into a bicycle leg, then it transitions into a running leg, then it transitions into a kayaking leg, then it transitions into a 100 yard dash to the finish line! Then it transitions into a beer!

US Bank Quick Assets (our team) was formed in 1998, and that year and in 1999 they were the 'fun years' where we just want out to have fun and try to do good. Our team was sponsored by USB and we got some great swag - custom shirts, fleece vests, a huge BBQ the night before the race, even our lodging was comped! However, in about 2000 the results of the First Bank acquisition of USB were realized and we saw much of the events budget move from the West coast to the Midwest bank HQ. However, I'm not whining too much - USB still pays our entrance fee every year. I'm proud to say though that as a founding member of the team I'm still at it and this was my 9th year competing! Over time the team has changed to become more competitive, especially since Gordon took over the reigns of the team captain after I left USB. I love that guy, he is a great inspiration and a blast to be around. Oh, and did I mention he's competitive?

Well, I had been planning to take the Friday before the race (Saturday) off and enjoy a leisurely drive from Portland to Bend, go for a little spin on my bike, meet up with the team for a team meeting and a nice dinner and then to bed. However, my schedule changed and I needed to come into work early in the morning (4:00 AM) - no big deal. But one thing led to another and before I knew it the whole day had gone by. I hadn't even packed yet assuming that I was going to be home around 10:00 AM on Friday.

I actually left the office day about 5:00 PM! I headed home in rush hour traffic, and then carefully packed (if I am rushed before a race it is likely that I'll forget something critical, like my bike!). I was home by 6:00, and then packed up by 7:00. The Friday night commute around the Portland area can be horrendous, so I decided to wait until about 7:30 to hit the road. And hit a massive traffic jam going south toward Salem. Eventually I made it to Highway 22 and headed up past Detroit Lake. By that time I had been up for 17 hours and was getting groggy. I popped open a RockStar, cranked up the tunes and made it to the high desert. As I drove that long boring stretch into Sisters, I would roll the windows all the way down and the scent of the Junipers would refresh me, and then I would roll the windows up and then repeat after about a half hour. I checked into the motel about 11:30 and was settled and in bed by midnight. That's late for me normally, and especially on the eve of a race.

Race Day!

I love riding my bike. As I rode furiously, I heard a curious chittering noise, then a kind of a weird rustling and finally what sounded like a human yelp behind me. Taking my eyes off the road for a moment, I looked back and was amazed to see that I had been going so fast that my knifing through the air created a slipstream or vortex. Into that vacuum various flotsam and jetsam were trailing behind me. The chittering was a raccoon, the rustling was a smorgasboard of small trees, shrubs and rocks uprooted by my passing. The yelp turned out to be a competitor - I had passed him about 2 miles back and unknowingly to me he had been standed in my slipstream for several minutes and hollering for help. Like the tail of a comet the cacaphony of chaos followed furiously. I then heard an odd groaning and the ground started shaking. I thought "earthquake" and knowing how fast I was going my exit from this world would be imminent.

But then I realized - the enormous strength being pushed through my legs into the pavement was causing gravitational analomies! It was a fearful thought that one person as strong as myself could alter the gravitational pull of the earth.

And then I woke up from my dream! Now, let's look at what really happened.

Race Day - The Real Events (honest!)

Our category is Business/Service teams, and the teams are released in waves according to their category. Business/Service teams are one of the last categories, so it is typical that we would actually start a few hours after the first wave is released. Why do I tell you this? The road up to the mountain is closed in the morning so the cyclists are safe coming down the mountain. Because of that and our late start time, we end up having to drive up to the lodge and then have a few hours to spare. Although I wear a long sleeve jersey, I wear regular cycling shorts instead of pants. This works well as by the time I get down to Bend I'm working hard and plenty warm. The downside though is that it can get pretty cold up there on the mountain waiting for the bike leg to start. I found something good though that helps to overcome the chill while I'm waiting. I brought a cheap hoodie and it helped keep the cold out. When Marty transitioned to me, I tore the hoodie off and threw it on the ground at the feet of a lady standing there and said she could have it! She was a little startled but I was already gone before she could even respond.

Marty was both our downhill and cross country skier, and as I waited for him I realized that I had not seen him for two years since the race in 2005! In a relay race we typically show the person we're handing off to what we will wear. That way we know to look for the red jersey or the green tutu as our first glimpse from afar before we can even see the face of our team member. Well, sure enough as Marty appeared from the crowd like radar we spotted each other at the same moment. Off I went on the bike leg!

I have 3 bikes - an old Trek 2120 carbon frame, a Fuji Team Pro and a Trek Hilo 2000. I've named the Fuji Queen Elizabeth - she comes from royal lineage, has a regal bearing in her composite frame and with her Shimano Dura-Ace group she's as reliable as rain in Oregon. Oh, don't underestimate - when the pressure is on her queenship quenches foes from the throne. Now my Hilo I've named Princess Diana - she's fast, sexy with her 650 CC Rolf Vector wheels and carbon fork. Her integrated aero bars turn heads, and I'll probably die astride her in a fiery crash.

I ride Diana in triathlons and Pole Pedal Paddle. There are some long downhill stretches on the 22 mile ride into Bend, and tucked down on the aero bars with the low profile of the 650 CC wheels I've reached speeds of up to 55 MPH. I've learned years ago that the flapping of my number bib will be annoying, so rather than safety pinning I actually tape it right onto my jersey. I'm not superstitious (well, maybe I am) but I have a lucky jersey - yellow with flames on it and with my time trial helmet (yeah, the geeky ones) I can really fly.

In the first 3 miles I passed maybe 10 bikes, but then two guys passed me. All three of us were working hard but they inched ahead of me and slowly opened a gap. One of them was on a beautiful Orbea that probably cost more than 3K. When we got to the first downhill though I passed them so fast I know they were startled. I rode furiously near the top of my heart rate - pushing the pedals as hard as I could in my top gear. The lactic acid was reaching a point where I knew the wall was fast approaching but being very familiar with the route I knew I could time the last mile to exhaust myself and burn out just as I reached the transition. In the last 3 miles of the ride I glanced back, and the nearest one was a good quarter mile behind me. If that rider happens to be reading this, please do not be disheartened that you were beat - you're probably a great guy but a LOSER in a race with me. But I'm not competitive, I'm just sayin...



If you know me you do understand that I'm prone to hyperbole and perhaps a bit of exaggeration. But, the camera never lies - I was actually going fast enough that a photographer could only catch my buttocks as I tore by him. I did confirm with him later that he was trying to get the picture of me:



Looks like an empty course eh? Look closely at the right side of the picture and you can get a glimpse of my lucky jersey. Notice the finish line - the ride finishes on a slight downhill slope and it gets dangerous - just 10 yards away I have to brake to a stop as I negotiate a 90 degree right into the transition area. It can get pretty hairy and a few times I've even skidded into the transition.

We were pleased this year to welcome a new runner - I work with Patty and she runs like a rabbit on EPO. I came into the transition area braking hard to a halt, yelling Patty's name. She immediately emerged from the crowd and we slapped hands and away she went. Patty's fast too - it's kind of funny that the same photographer tried to get a pic of her and it ended up like mine where he only caught a glimpse of her as she sped fast:

Gordon had taken some kayaking classes, and he was psyched to put into practice the things he had learned. He even rented a racing kayak! Patty handed off to Gordon and you can see him right in the center of this picture looking calm but I know him well enough to know that the adrenaline was already flowing - look at his left fist clenching.

Gordon then handed off to Patty for the final event, a 100 yard dash to the finish line. Patty had a little time to recover as Gordon was out on the kayak, and then she sped across the finish line closing a great race for Quick Assets!


I close with this team picture. Well done to all, and we are very much looking forward to next year! From the left - Marty, Dave, Patty and Gordon. Well done, my fast friends!

The Next Literary Superstar

My niece is better than your niece. I know we all think that, but that is a tautology without peer in Jessica's case. She wants to be a doctor when she grows up, an admirable aspiration which we encourage. However, the reason I believe that she is superior to all other six year old girls is due to her literary prowess. She does not squander her formidable intellect on vacuous tripe like "see spot run". It's not an overstatement to say that she surpasses even Dickens, Dostoevsky and Dr. Seuss. Well, enough introduction - let her words speak for themselves. Grab a tissue and a cup of tea, and be prepared to weep at the unfolding drama of love fulfilled, from the eyes of a six year old.


NOTE: Jessica does not need the constraints of paragraphs to box her in, therefore I'm recreating her words in the way that she actually transcribed this story. the result is a few words that create a looooong post so get ready to scroll, gentle reader. Also, I've preserved her spelling and added the correct word in paranthetical form. Let us now begin.

Chapter One:

One day

a girl

came

by she

said

that

I

look

cool

Chapter Two:

The girl saw

me and

then

she

asked

me

if

I

wanted

to

go

on

a

date

Chapter Three:

Then

she

asked me

what

my

name

was

and

I

said

it

was

Billy

Chapter Four:

That

moment

I

felt

super

cool

she

looked

at

me

and

I

loved

her

eyes

Chapter Five:

Then

I

went

home

the

girl

stayed

thier (there)

I

thout (thought)

she

was

butfloe (beautiful)

Chapter Six:

That

day

we

got

meryd (married)

we

wher (were)

so

happy

Chapter Seven

Then

we

had

chigrin (children)

it

was

so

fun

having

babys (babies)

Chapter Eight:

And

the

next

day

the

mail

came

and

I

said

honny (honey)

could

you

get

that

Chapter Nine:

She

is

so

cool

I

love

you

foo

ever (forever)

you

are

your

the

cool

list

wife

Chapter Ten:

Then

we

whent (went)

too (to)

bed

so

did

the

kids

the

next

moring (morning)

we

had

breakfast