A Breath of Fresh Air

Flights at 6:00 a.m. are no fun, but I made mine, this time. Hung out in the Admirals' Club in DFW, just long enough to post a pic on Facebook to chronicle that I had once again escaped the Hub City.

Early morning at DFW

On the way from DFW to PDX I enjoyed chatting with my seat mate, Wendy, whose trip from Florida to Oregon had been disrupted and turned into an overnight affair by storms between Tampa and Dallas. Nice conversation—all the best, Wendy! 

After arrival in PDX I first checked e-mails and did other mundane stuff, while sitting within more-than-close earshot of an itinerant musician, who—with his TSA-approved neck-ID—was clad in a white, flowing robe and flip-flops, filling the terminal with eerily beautiful violin and drum sounds. Welcome to Oregon, I thought, where the hippie is still footloose.

Alaska's tail fin must be the prettiest in the industry

My layover was long enough to check out the in-airport location of Laurelwood Brewing Company, where a pint of craft brew will set you back all of $4.50! Who would have thought that prices such as this still exist.

About to touch down in Eugene—parched earth here, too

Once I arrived in Eugene after a short hop in an Alaska Airlines puddle jumper the hotel shuttle took me downtown, where the Hilton staff saw it fit to put me into one of the most spacious two-room corner suites I've set foot in. Bummer that I didn't bring 20 friends along to throw a big party!

Part One ...

... and Part Two of my corner suite

I spent the late afternoon sitting in the sun at Steelhead Brewing, only 200 meters from the Hilton, watching life pass by and talking to my young server, Ericha (yes, that's the correct spelling) about beer. What a concept: A server who actually knows (and likes) what she is serving! How often is that NOT the case?

Enjoying sun and Twisted Meniscus IPA at Steelhead Brewing

Does it get any better?

The final brews of the day came off a tap at Rogue, about 200 meters the other direction from the Hilton. There I had a long conversation with a local student, Benjamin, about not only beer but topics that defied the scope that most of my former students could have followed.

Many happy taps at Rogue

The entire day was simply delightful in its many refreshing facets, and now I am ready to head to Bend for the Leadman Triathlon.

Jürgen

20,003

Blog views, that is. 20,003 times that somebody thought that checking what ol' Jürgen is doing is more important than putting the kids to bed, bringing in the paper, feeding the dog, or working on that report that was due half an hour ago. I would have never thought.... And 20,003 is also a figure, in dollars, that represents what's been going on in my home life for the past two or three months—can't remember exactly when we started. It's the dollar amount that I have spent already on my house remodel /renovation, spearheaded by the solid-as-a-rock Rick LaShomb. That figure is going to continue to go up (oh, I know it is way beyond $20,000 by now), as we're just barely half-way through the project. It is difficult to gauge what still remains to be done and how much it will cost when one goes by the seat of one's pants—and especially if one isn't willing to cut corners just because of a few bucks, or sometimes a few hundred bucks, or more.

Guest bathroom in-between ....

... and after

Lemme tell you: The house will be something that Judy would have been proud of. Only a few days away from what would have been her 57th birthday, I feel a bit guilty that she never saw this project start, let alone finish. That damn peeling paint! We lived with it for years. Those of you who borrowed our potty always brought it back, because the walls were in such a horrible state that one pee was all it took to next time opt for the backyard. Alas, there never was a good time to start the remodel, and so we didn't. This summer I decided that the time was just about as bad as any, and so Rick and I talked and we got started. Foolish me.

Moving all the wine to relocate the Eurocave was an ordeal, but it made for an interesting photoc

Remodeled computer room with the Eurocave on the right next to cardboard that will leave

At this point, I reside in the "forbidden room," as we always called it. A new futon is my bed whilst the master bedroom is gutted and the waterbed is drained. I shower in the newly refurbished guest bathroom as the ReBath people ripped out the former master shower, broke through my concrete slab, relocated drains and pipes, and will—with a bit of magic—install my new euro-style bath by Tuesday. Rick has stripped and rebuilt my master closet, and all-caulked it is ready for his paint gun. There will be new cabinets, another fresh granite top, lovely carpet (just as in a few other parts of the house already) to curl my toes into (and have secret dreams about nubiles). Once this second phase of the remodel is finished (I hope in early October), we will turn our attention to the kitchen/dining area, and that's when the money is really going to start to evaporate. But if you have any inkling how much I like putzing around the stove you will understand why I won't be able to leave any money to my kids—lucky SOBs, they never existed!

Cabinet and TV are temporary in the guest bedroom—looking north

The new futon, which doubles as a queen-sized bed—looking south in the guest bedroom

So, 20,000 blog hits or $20,000 spent on stuff—it's just numbers, and since I have an alarm clock I can set it for 6 a.m. Monday morning and make sure to check whether there have been any more visitors to the blog before I go out to collect cans in the mall parking lot, and beyond. Nothing like being a retiree on a fixed income who does have a certain taste....

Mr. ReBath tackling what used to be our shower

Walls are gone, the ceiling is demolished

Bye-bye

The base of my new shower

So, all that's left for me is a) concentrate on upcoming races and other exciting stuff, and b) cook way-over-the-top meals for myself. Here's a sampling from the past few days—just imagine what the new kitchen will do when I actually have some counter space and room to juggle. Life is good, as I so frequently say and write.

Sunday: Southwest Grillers

Thursday: Mexican casserole

Friday: Poppers (appetizers, or at least meant to be)

Saturday: Trout fillets on cedar planks

Saturday: Trout, linguine, beans, and shitaki

Sunday: steak night

So, please, go ahead and feel sorry for me. For breakfast I'll have gruel, once again, after I exit my pathetic hovel ....

 Jürgen

Now just a memory: Our 2012 trip to the Rocky Mountains

Has it really been two weeks since Sabine arrived in Lubbock (well, one week and six days), and now she's off in the air, somewhere over the Atlantic while I sit in Mansfield, TX, to officiate Prairieman tomorrow morning? These past two weeks have been a whirlwind of activity, memories, fabulous food, spectacular scenery, and many emotions. Quite frankly, even though it's just been two weeks, it seems as if months have gone by during that time. We did and saw so much that it will take a while to process it all.

Rico has a fully functioning volunteer fire department

My last blog update had been penned in Albuquerque, on the way to Rico in Colorado's Dolores Valley. Upon her passing, Judy's mom had bequeathed the family's summer house to her and her brother Mike, and even though the two of us didn't get much of a chance in the past dozen years to go up there and spend time in the mountains (while Mike and Candi and the rest of the family made ample use of this pretty place), we paid our share of the taxes and insurance. In the past few years, Mike and Candi have put a lot of labor (and money) into making out of a summer cabin a year-round home, and I couldn't believe all the positive changes since the last time we had been up there. It is a long trip from Lubbock (about 625 miles one-way), but I will have to go up there more often. Sabine and I arrived on Wednesday evening of last week, and Mike and Candi gave us the full tour before leaving for Midland on Thursday morning.

Two of Rico's oldest commercial establishment's, anchored by the Enterprise

Rico is located about 45 minutes to an hour south of Telluride—and the difference between the two couldn't be any more marked. Rico has a permanent population of maybe 300 souls, while Telluride is artsy-fartsy like Taos or Aspen and is positively commerce driven. Rico still has the old mining-town charm (it once had 5,000 permanent residents), and it is sleepy and totally authentic. It's a perfect place to hang and chill—which we did for a week.

Riding close to the tree line near Hope Lake

We spent our days hiking and mountain biking in the surrounding mountains. Sabine had a bit of a problem with the high elevation; Rico lies at about 8,900 feet, and we hiked as high as 11,885 feet (or 3,623 meters for my European friends). Good thing there are several hot springs in the area, one of which became our favorite as it made sounds like a heavily breathing walrus. And even better, we had a wonderful place to come home to in the afternoons for Happy Hour on the porch and delicious homemade dinners. (We had loaded up on groceries in Cortez on the way up to Rico, and we ate and drank like royalty—what else would you expect after we invited Lord Calvert and had also taken along a case of Cameron Hughes wine which was survived by only a few bottles?)

Our favorite hot spring from afar ...

... and close-up, with nekkid denizen

On our last full day in the Rockies we drove up to Telluride to meet up with Cath and John, who own a timing company and with whom I have worked various races. We got the insiders' scoop on where to hike, and after taking the free gondola to cut out a lot of the initial climbing we took the "See Forever" trail to its highest spot from where we had an unparalleled view of the surrounding 13,000-foot peaks. Talk about paradise. Sabine, who has seen her share of mountains, was totally floored by the San Juans. Really, it is difficult to imagine a more beautiful day in the mountains—and then we were still going to sample the Tempter IPA at Telluride Brewing before driving home!

Telluride about 3,000 below us

13,000+ foot peaks all around

Sabine soaking it in from the top

Not a bad backdrop, eh?

So, in other words: We had a grand time. I just wish it wouldn't take so long to drive up there. My poor little truck (now close to 250,000 miles and slowly closing in on becoming a 30-year veteran) ferried us reliably to Colorado and back, averaging just a tad shy of 25 mpg, but it doesn't like to run much faster than 65 mph. So you do the math: We drove almost exactly 1,350 miles, so that's a lot of windshield time, even with all those spectacular views. (No, I'm not talking about the stretch between Littlefield and Clovis.)  But who complains? We saw sooo much beautiful countryside and will carry great memories for years to come.

Trout Lake, near Lizard Head Pass

We rode up to Lizard Head Pass, just the way the Galloping Goose did for many years

Sabine in front of the Galloping Goose, in the town of Dolores

All good things come to an end, but not until the requisite upgrade: Our last night in Santa Fe was sweetened by an additional magnitude when our (free) room in the Hilton was bumped up to the two-room historic casita in which we had stayed last year as well. Nothing like being upgraded into a $600+ suite when you're staying for free. So, that provided the fitting framework for our perfect summer vacation.

And now it's back to reality: I dropped Sabine off at the airport around noon and then hopped into the Miata and drove in stinkin' hot weather the 330 miles down here into the metroplex to be the HR for the Prairieman half-iron distance triathlon tomorrow morning. If I had time for it, I'd be dizzy!

Thanks for reading and, I hope, enjoying the pics.  

Jürgen

In Albuquerque, on the way to Colorado

Just a quick blog post from on the road: Sabine arrived in Lubbock on Saturday afternoon, just about an hour after I had returned from my officiating gig at the Hotter 'n Hell in Wichita Falls. Since then, the schedule has been full: On Sunday afternoon, we met up with Martha and Alan as well as Wes and Susan at Wicked Beaver Brewing where Michael and his wife, Jenny, served us some fine cold beer. Later that evening we had a delicious dinner at M&A's. On Monday, Sabine wanted to go for a bike ride, so we took the road bikes out to New Home, where she experienced the cultural capsule of The Last Maverick restaurant, where we had a cold Coke. Then it was time to prepare appetizers for our evening with Jewell and Kathy (who, after appetizers, took us out to the Funky Door for dinner) and we also had to start packing for our trip to Colorado.

With Martha and Sabine and a Wicked Beaver

Yesterday morning we were on the road around 11 a.m.—amazing! And even more amazing was the fact that we had a tailwind leaving town! The little truck ran smoothly, and the gas mileage was like in its best days. we got to Albuquerque right at 5 p.m., so there was plenty of time to go to La Cumbre Brewing and then to Marble, where we met up with Chad and Jen, who have just recently moved to ABQ. We then had dinner at Il Vicinos—the pizza was as good as always, and Wet Mountain IPA is till one of the best brews out there.

And now it's almost 8 a.m., Sabine is already brushing her teeth, and I have to hop into the shower so we can have a standard Hampton breakfast. Then we'll be off for Rico, in the Dolores Valley, where we will spend the next week vacationing.

Jürgen

A few more Tour of Utah impressions

Even though I made it back home to Lubbock last night, I'd like to share a few pics from the past week. I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the Tour of Utah, one of cycling's biggest road races in the USA. Granted, it doesn't have the same stature as the Tour of California, but not every state can be as cycling-crazed. First, here are a few race-related pics:

Barbie gets a free ride with the Race Doctor in his convertible

And that's the inside of the Race Doc's car—course profile, roster, radio all within reach

The caravan heads out

Not-so-rich Team Optum prepares for the arrival of its riders after Stage 5

If you watched TV footage, it came from these two fellows

The chief referee himself, M. Pierre Blanchard at the start of the Park City stage (6)

My right hand for the entire race, Heather—Master RV Driver!

And lest thou thinketh it was all about the race, well, re-think. I did get a chance to ride my Ritchey for almost 200 miles, and there was a lot to see.

As posted at the state-owned liquor store—at least there is no requirement to also
bring along one's six kids!

Downtown SLC as seen from the Jordan River Parkway bike path, which stretches for 40+ miles

Crosswalks are equipped with flags that pedestrians are to frantically wave when dodging traffic

Artwork is everywhere—this one in Park City

One can learn new words all the time ...

The Red Iguana serves what locals called the best Mexican food in town

And that's all for tonight, folks. Thanks for looking, and stay tuned for more updates in the next few weeks—maybe I'll post a photo of my new carpet once it is installed.

Jürgen

In the Land of Polygamy Porter

Or I could have called this blog entry "In the Land of the Mormons."  But in an attempt to stay with the often beer-inspired themes of this blog, I chose the former. Yes, no kidding: There is a beer called Polygamy Porter. Just like Uinta Brewing Co's Trader Session IPA it is a tasty, albeit watery beer—no wonder, as this place still has alcohol-content restrictions, and neither climbs much above 4%.

Polygamy Porter—"Why Have Just One?"

Today is Thursday, and thus it must be the third day of the Tour of Utah. Stage 3 is going to start in about two hours, and I have a few minutes in my hotel room here in Odgen before checking out, loading my stuff in the race-issued brand-new Subaru Outback, getting today's start lists at the sign-in, and then high-tailing it to the stage finish in Salt Lake City. It's another UCI Doping Control assignment, and it's been a good one so far. I flew in on Monday and attended the Team Managers Meeting that afternoon, and Tuesday's and Wednesday's testing came off without a hitch. Just like in California, we use an RV for doping control, and (almost) like in California I am assisted by an Allen—Heather Allen, that is, versus her husband John Allen in California. Heather drives the RV and helps with all things that need to be done to get us ready for testing. Medalist Sports, the organizers of this event (as well as for California and the soon-coming pro-race in Colorado) are to be commended for spending the money on an assistant for doping control.

Pro riders seeking a bit of shade from one of the fiber-glass horses that symbolize Odgen

Compared to the Amgen Tour of California, the crowds at this race are much smaller and the field is somewhat less stellar. The infrastructure is equally imposing, with start and finish areas top notch. Another difference is that we are not constantly traveling: For the first three nights we stayed here in Odgen, and today we are transferring to Salt Lake City for the final nights. Yesterday's Team Time Trial was run at Miller Motor Speedway, about an hour away, but we are certainly not driving the 1,000 miles that my odometer showed at the conclusion of ATOC. That, in turn, means that there is a little bit more downtime, which I have been putting to good use by taking out the Ritchey for what already is a respectable 79 miles.

The Team Time Trial at Miller Motor Speedway—an unusual venue but perfectly suited

Ogden is a strange place. Neither Heather nor I can put our finger on it: On the one hand, there is a lot of really nice (re-)development in the historic downtown area, where our hotel is and where the start of the first and also today's stage was/is located. But then there are so many run-down aspects, homeless people, decaying streets. And then another fancy boutique or restaurant.

The start of Stage 1 in downtown Ogden

Hotel staff made me aware of a cycle path (like a greenbelt) along the small Ogden River, and I used it for short before-and-after-work rides, and it is typical for this place: In places it is perfectly maintained, and in others it suddenly vanishes. Signage is spotty, and the users of the area are of a mixed nature. Oh well, maybe it's a Mormon thing.... This morning I found a new route, parallel to the mountains going north toward Brigham City, with beautiful views of the lake (yes, it really does exist!) and the surrounding mountains. No wonder one of the little towns along the way (founded in 1851) was called Pleasant View. Next up was a place called Box Elder.

Along the greenbelt cycle path in Ogden, with one of the prettier views

Yesterday morning I dropped off the samples from the first stage at the Salt Lake City laboratory (the SMRTL), one of two WADA-approved test facilities in the USA (the other one is at UCLA). I met the director of the lab and got a short glimpse of its interior. I was told that SMRTL processes about 20,000 samples a year, with a staff of more than 30. UCLA's lab is triple that size in samples processed. Obviously, that's not only cycling-related or even from the world of sports, but rather private industry as well. Dr. Eichner, the lab's director, told me that these two labs process more samples in a year than all accredited European labs combined. Wow.

My Outback in front of the Salt Lake City lab at 560 Arapeen Way

And now it is time to close the computer and start the day. If I find the time, I may add a few more pictures and a few lines in the next few days. We should see some really pretty countryside when we go up into the mountains. The final stage will end in Park City, and I have heard nothing but praise for that place, so we'll see.

Jürgen