Let's get a divorce.

Divorce is a world of suck best avoided. 

Divorce is also a blessing within a curse. 

Divorce is a long dark lonely road to nowhere that somehow, nonetheless, you're desperate to believe is heading somewhere, albeit only god-knows-where. 

Divorce is an explosion, one of such great magnitude that it will surely result in the complete destruction of all-things, in the same way that it is an explosion of such great magnitude that it will (it must) therefore compel radical, molecular regeneration, elemental fusion, and evolution. 

I conferred what feels as if it could be one of the last physical reminders (that and this apparently indelible and resistant-to-all-lasers ring-finger-tattoo on my left hand) of my now defunct marriage to the good folks at the bike shop this week. 

Painted for us on commission by my best pal “Lyle” Motley about 25 years ago, I just cannot, at this point, get my head around displaying it on the walls of my home ever again. Thus, it has been in a closet since January until this week. 

Lyle said, “I get it. I’d probably do the same thing,” when I told him about the painting’s new status some six months ago. 

From now on, it’s gonna hang next to a couple of Lyle’s other fantastical and amazing paintings, way up high on the walls of the shop above the service department. I’ll see it every shift, whenever I work. But it won’t trouble me. Because it never did… I do not hate this painting in any way, in fact I still think it's awesome.  I only hated the part where it was in a closet where no one would ever see it and be able to admire it ever again. 

That concern was resolved this week. And I could not be happier about it.

A wise friend recently said to me, “Wouldn’t it be great if, one of these days, we could become able to look back on all this tragedy and sadness, and also to where (and likewise perhaps to whom) it has led us, and be able to say “It was all fucking worth it”? Wouldn’t that be the best thing ever?” 

 Yep. It would, that would definitely be the best thing ever. 

 Further up and further in.

Let's go to France!

Went to Paris (the one in France) for a post-divorce "Tuscan Sun" adventure in July.  Fair to call visiting Paris a long-standing "bucket-list" item of mine. But, given the sad situation I came to find myself in in January 2025, planning and accomplishing this trip solo came to mean a lot more to me than just another item to check-off that list.

Pleased to report, I had a truly amazing time!  Aside from one breakdown on the RER-B line on my way into the city from the airport (which required me to navigate the massive Gare du Nord train station unrehearsed in order to find an alternative route to my hotel), everything went super smoothly travel-wise. I met lots of good people, ate tons of good food, drank gallons of great wine, and saw hundreds of amazing sights.  All the things one does while visiting that amazing, complex, beautiful city.

While I was there, wandering around the city for a week on a janky rental bike (and each night via the Métro), I posted a few pictures, along with some wordy captions, to my Instagram.  They're embedded (and thus preserved) in chronological order below.

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Just about a bike: Specialized S-Works CX

Select any image to embiggen

I stumbled upon this 2000 Specialized S-Works CX whist scrolling through our local Craigslist the other day.  As pictured in the ad, and later on initial inspection, the bike appeared to me to be rather cobbled together (as bikes of this vintage so often are). Nevertheless it looked like it had really good bones (these frames were handbuilt in the USA), bright mostly-intact paint, and best of all, surprise! some really good shit in a box, too: turns out the seller still had the balance of the original XTR-M950 parts, the right-hand Ultegra integrated lever, everything, in fact, except for the stock rear wheel with its bespoke S-Works hub. Alas. 

Despite the bike's basic cobbled togetheredness, to my eye it also looked like it had significant resto/refurb potential. During our first salvo of correspondence the seller told me he'd mostly left it shelved in his garage for many years and now needed the space for other things now (a tale as old as time). The seller also told me he had inherited it from a neighbor some years ago and had converted it to 11 speed recently, but that he was willing to include the old parts in the deal if I was willing to return the newer 11-speed parts to him once I'd removed them from the bike. Done!

Let's use a heart-rate monitor!

Several of the following observations were originally posted to the Fifty+ Years Old Forum at mtbr.com on 01 October 2024.

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I started riding with a heart rate monitor, a Garmin Forerunner 45, in April 2024 and, after several months of data collection, I now find myself absolutely fascinated by what I've been learning about my cardio-vascular health and fitness. I am especially intrigued by the corroboration of what I feel has been a distinct increase in my overall-fitness and threshold-endurance during this summer's riding season. 

Bottom line: I love doing the things I get to do outdoors. My objective in learning to use a heart rate monitor has been to better understand my general overall fitness and health and, quite simply, to maximize however-many years might remain to me to continue to be able to do these essential activities that I love. Below is an inexpert run-down of what I think I'm beginning to understand better about my body based on what my new monitor seems to be telling me.

Just about a bike (and a friend): Dale Shewalter's 1983 Specialized Expedition

I was first introduced to Dale Shewalter in 1993. His sixth grade classroom was located two doors down the hall from the room where I was about to start my student teaching, in fifth grade, with the legendary Grant "Brad" Gerver at Weitzel Elementary School in January of that year.  The always gregarious Gerver was great about taking me around and introducing me, right away, to everyone that I would be working with, and Dale's room was one of the first stops on my first-day tour. 

Having grown up in a multigenerational family of teachers, I immediately recognized Dale as a teacher's-teacher, cut from the same bolt of no-nonsense but ever-compassionate fabric that my mom, grandmother, great-aunt, and great-grandmother had likewise each been hewn from.  Naturally, I liked him right away. And it was my great good fortune that we were able to remain friends for years, long after I completed my student teaching, well into my own career as a professional educator.

Just about a bike: Monē SB2 Klunker [UPDATED]

3.3:1 gain ratio, 45.6 gear inches

Cjell Monē (pronounced: shell money*) proudly runs his mobile custom-fab bike shop out of the back of a former Wonderbread work-truck which is currently parked (at the time of this writing) somewhere near Silver City, New Mexico.

I'm sure Cjell's one-off custom bikes are amazing.  His initial apprenticeship at Black Sheep Bikes, and many subsequent years of experience as a successful independent bike builder, would seem to indicate: he knows well how to wield a torch.  But a one-off custom bike tends to be the sort of unobtainable unicorn which, for most of us run-of-the-mill average-type bike riders, is maybe something we get to plan for and purchase once in a lifetime.  That's been my experience, anyway. 

Somewhat uniquely, however, Monē isn't limited to just producing one-off full customs for his customers, he also produces several models of his bikes in small batches, ready to be sold off-the-rack. The Monē SB2 (small batch, straight bar) Klunker is one of these rigs, handmade in Silver City in limited sizes and quantities by Cjell himself.

Just about a travel trailer: Bennie, the Jet [UPDATED]

Meet Bennie, my 1968 Lofgren's Jet camper trailer, the long sought-after replacement for our beloved camper van, Betovn.

We recently finished painting and restoring her outsides (with new paint to match the house, reproduction decals, and fresh weatherseal where it was needed... a lot of the interior resto-work was begun by the previous owner) and she's now permanently leveled and installed (as in: she's no longer a travel trailer) in the side-yard next to our back-deck. We intend to use Bennie as an overnight guest-room whenever friends and family come to visit for a few days.