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Yes, on the Big Island the lava flows A LOT. And when I venture there later this year (October) I plan to take at least 10 rolls of film while visiting the lava fields. I want the photo archive to be filled with fodder (no pun intended) for future reference – future use – future “ahhhh.”
When you consider the fact that you’re traveling a few thousand miles, why not take four or five hours. Heck – how about a whole day – especially the “Chain of Craters Road.” I plan to take four to five hours and explore the East Rift and coastal area of the Park via Chain of Craters Road – to get specific.
This road descends 3,700 feet in 20 miles and ends where lava flows crossed the road in 2003. Best bring some extra ‘bat’rees.’
Aloha.
With 4 hours on the bike and another 1:15 hitting the weights the day was full of motion. Let’s see, laundry done. Vacuuming done. More laundry. Dusting. Sweaters put away. Boxes stored. Swept the garage. Picked up the den area. Threw away some crap. Stored the unneeded books in the den area. Went to the grocery store. Spent two hours online finding resources to improve my photography. Then at the end of the day, my Canon shows up with some decent shots. Please, click on the thumb to see the larger file. These were 3888 in width and so I’ve reduced them to 1550. Enjoy. I did.
using ambient light. These are shots to test the tripod stability and the low-light use of my 400d. The shots are just samples for viewing the light within my dining area, the pressboard area, and the den. Testing 1,2,3.
This file is larger than the 550 pixel width version below; click the thumbnail to see the larger version.
Then the sun set and there was very little light left in the room.
The rug has a lot of detail – as do the chairs and backdrop of the pressboard.
People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.
What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.
Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.
In the final analysis, it is between you and the Universe.
It was never between you and them anyway.
Aerial views of the Seventy Islands, widely displayed on book covers, posters, and magazine illustrations than any other feature of this country, are symbolic of Palau.
Several things contribute to the beauty of the Palau island group: brilliant, transparent colors of the sky and water; the clarity of the lagoon waters; dazzling white sand beaches; and the quantity and form of the small islands.
The Rock Islands are limestone of coral origin. Obviously, they are remnants of a earlier array of barrier and patch reefs similar to the reefs of today at Palau — except the sea level then was some 250 to 300 feet higher. The sea level has been fairly constant for some time, so the easily dissolved limestone at all the Rock Islands are severely undercut at their waterline. From water level, many appear as great mushrooms. At many places, it is very difficult or impossible to get ashore to the islands. Most are uninhabited, and they are fine biologic remnants with native limestone forests and a complete array of native bird life. Hawksbill and green sea turtles haul in on the scattered sand beaches to nest. Ulong Island, where Captain Henry Wilson’s ship, the Antelope, went aground in 1700, is the site of many ancient rock paintings used to record important events.
Yet scenic beauty is the dominating character of these Rock Islands. They are unique and outstanding.
The porous, fractured, eroded nature of these islands clearly illustrates the kind of landscape the Japanese defenders used to fortify and barricade at Bloody Nose Ridge, for that place too is geologically like the Rock Islands.
North and east of Seventy Islands and between them and the capital, Oreor, are two prominent island groups, Mecherchar (Eil Malk) and Ngerukdabel (Urukthapel). Each of these has a much larger main island, though still entirely of karst topography limestone.
What about lunch, a six-pak of water and some snacks too. I might add that we need the iPod and a small set of speakers with built-in batteries. The tank is full … don’t forget to bring the masks and snorkel gear. If you’re really brave, bring the cheese whiz and you’ll find the fish acting a bit more frisky. Snack on …
Most of the photos I’ve taken thus far are just test examples to learn the new format, the camera’s flexibility and various options which create unique photos.
The first is Charlie Brown’s tree – that I took in Cades Cove. It’s a macro shot taken at the forest’s ground floor – about 1′ away. The little pine is ready for some holiday ornaments — sometime later this year.
The bridge pictured herein has been re-furbished due to additional car traffic. Parson’s Branch is now open and worthy of a visit. We walked a portion of the road last Friday and while there, three cars traveled past us. It’s time that we experienced the road by car rather than by mountain bike.
The third photo was taken approximately 12″ from a stump near Parson’s Branch. Kewl.
Blast up I-75 at speeds near 120mph and you get the feel of the mountains. Take a left turn on Highway 80 and the rollers are large and “in-your-face.” Approaching the start of the Mount Victory Road Race, the road reached out and said, “this is gonna hurt.” When the start/finish of a road race is located on “Stab Road” best figure that more than your legs are gonna hurt.
Options were aplenty – in terms of race selection. No Masters groups – but two options were available for Cat 3’s and 4’s. I’m a 3 who elected to move into the Pro1/2/3 field. In hind sight, I should have stayed with my own kind. Maybe the pain would have been less – maybe the pain wouldn’t have lingered – maybe. During my pre-race warm-up I felt ‘ok’ and road around chatting with the guys and sipped on a pre-race bottle of Cytomax. Around 11:20 my legs felt heavy as if they were full of lead. Naturally I scoffed at the thought that maybe I might be ‘dead’ from too much hard effort during the week. I wasn’t sure if my body was ready for a Pro/1/2 race.
Near the start I chuckled at the field … I saw a former Olympian and two (2) national champions. Oh boy.
The start was without the traditional fanfare, reading of the rules, blah-dity-blah-blah. A man stood in front of us and told us where to turn then he said (loudly), “go.” We were off – to the races.
Three miles after we started, some guys touched wheels and four racers went down in front of me. I slowed … almost stopping to avoid the carnage. Thank goodness the field didn’t react and jump. It didn’t matter – they were moving at 24-25mph (uphill). When I stood on the gears, cranking the bike up to speed, the engine room sent a warning up to the central computer and signaled me with a “warning-warning” and I realized I was in trouble. The sneaky feeling of little-to-no power was evident. As I bent over the bars and time trailed to the peloton, I knew that the first climb would be my demise.
Five miles up the road Brad Spears (one of the guys who went down) caught back on … bleeding, hurt, pissed off, seat broken and pissed. He charged to the front and set the tempo for a bit then calmed down and dug into his reserves. Ok then. 15 miles out we turned onto an 11 mile integrated loop – with a challenging climb. Yep, it was challenging. It was a mile of hell.
When we turned toward the “challenging climb” the field strung itself out – quickly – painfully – and without regard for those who couldn’t keep up. I was one of those who couldn’t keep up. I settled down and rode my pace – in my own race – just so I could minimize the time in the red zone. Funny, none of the hard-ass workouts I completed during the week came to mind. The only thing that came to mind was, “are you f#%%!^^ crazy!” At the summit, I tagged along with some other riders who were dropped and we quickly organized ourselves in an effort to catch the peloton. After chasing for a few miles, we slowly bridged a portion of the gap — but we weren’t on the back yet. We seemed to dangle just outside their pace. I dug in deep and road off the front of the group I was with (7 riders) and bridged to the back of the field. As I neared, I saw Brad Spears and realized how he must feel – so I push a little harder and was on the back. On the next steep downhill, the remaining stragglers joined the peloton.
Whatever. The “challenging climb” was coming and many of us would be dropped again. Sure enough, we were dropped mid-way up the challenging climb. This time I dug in deep and rode past several guys who were going backwards – all the while my breathing was severe, fast and the heart rate monitor read “97%.” (Of max.) At the top I joined with two other guys and realized they weren’t going to make it very far. I rode away from them.
I caught two more guys – and rode away from them as well. Oopps. I was alone and that’s no place to be with one more loop and the “challenging climb” coming. I found one more rider and we joined forces. The rider – Curtis Tolson – National Masters Individual Pursuit Champion, Pan-Am medalist, World Cup qualifier, etc. etc.
I was a little intimidated because he is clearly stronger than I am – and with a Cat 1 ranking, much more seasoned too. Curtis turned out to be a life saver – because he helped make the challenging climb a bit easier – cause he went a bit easier. When we turned onto the final leg of the course, I was even more thankful because we were riding in a steady headwind of 20mph. Sharing the work for a final leg of the race made it much easier – even if it was just mentally easier. We chatted-up some and laughed a little about the weather and the course – and before we knew it we were under the finish line kite.
Nearing the finish, Curtis slowed up and allowed me to finish in front of him. What a class-act.
SUMMARY: 55 miles – - average heart rate 145 – average speed 22.1 – placed 24th.
Both of these destinations are unique. Happy Valley because of its seclusion and protection against the elements of the neighboring mountains, the beautiful Lake of the Sky and its proximity to Chilhowee Mountain. The sun was out today – giving the parallel road to the Foothills Parkway – a happy feel. None the less, it was cooler than expected – particularly because the warmer weather of the last few weeks warmed us up – or most of us anyway. I road four hours with a buddy of mine (Tim) and a few of his friends from Canada. It was mostly a climbing day. My legs are toast.
Thinking ahead today – to the Big Island of Hawai’i, I was mindful that I’ll see the Waipi’o Valley along on the back side of Hamakua Coast. It’s one mile wide at the coastline and virtually six miles deep. The beach is a beautiful black … the cliffs soar to 200o’ … and the road into the valley is steep. 25% – that’s twenty-five percent. Referred to as the Valley of Kings, due to the fact that many Hawaiian rulers once lived in the valley, it has historical and cultural importance to the Hawaiian people.
Today’s post has a great view of the Valley of Kings along with an Ohia (from Hawaii’s most abundant native tree), a Red Torch orchid and plenty of Aloha. More photos to follow ….
Across the street from Ames’ house; late night (10:30 PM) @ 30 seconds f/1.4.
Wide angle @ 17mm f/4.5 near a sunset pounding against my shudders.
Old Glory flying, sans Bradford Pear.
The day off felt like a real day off. The kind you remember during the week when work is hectic, tempers are up and stress is expected.
I re-remembered that a day off — away from the house (!) — feels as if you’re on a mini-vacation. I’ll take more time off in the near future. The photos were fun to capture – and even more fun to view. Enjoy.
The Rebel XTi came just before we headed to Cades Cove in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Canon sent it with a full batter (whoa) and I started snapping shots when the lens hooked up. My experience with cameras is associated with point and shoot style cheap-o’s. I had a 35mm Canon some twenty years ago but that experience is long gone. Without much time – for the moment – here are a couple of shots which seem to say, “interesting.” More later.
Somewhere out there, a few folks had a great day (yesterday – since it’s on the other side of the international dateline) at the Nikko. Located on the east coast of Malakal Island in Koror State, the doors of Palau Royal Resort opened to leisure travelers and eco-tourism enthusiasts on June 28, 2005. Palau Royal Resort is a five-star international resort hotel developed and owned by Royal Hotel Group and operated by Nikko Hotels International.
Palau Royal Resort is the first of its class in the Republic of Palau, famous for its diving and most amazing array of marine life. It boasts of top of the class amenities for the travelers looking for leisure and relaxation.
Palau Royal Resort is about 25 minutes drive from the Palau International Airport and few minutes to the city center of Koror. I suggest you bring a) lots of cash, b) a credit card with ample room for rooms, and c) SPF30. Should you need to learn more, here’s the link. Nikko-my-body.
Amnesia — that’s what you want when you visit the region. To forget the world behind you and start life on a new path with mostly sunny days, sandy white beaches and delicious meals every day. Vacations interrupt our lives with mostly “good” consequences and with very few “bad” consequences. The anticipation of vacation is good – and traveling to the destination is generally good if your flights are on-time and the luggage doesn’t detour to Idaho when you’re on an island in Oceania.
The region is so large that it’s “interpreted” around some of the edges (particularly in west Melanesia). Your view of the world is what you make it and if you’ve cross-referenced all points in the region and disputed the provisos, you might find yourself immersed in what millions of people call paradise. Even Hawai’i is part of the “Polynesian triangle” and thus a member of Oceania. Settled in the sixth century by Polynesian people who migrated from Tahiti, it’s peeps are within the triangle.
Captain Cook had no idea that his presence in the 18th century would alter the official position of Hawaii within Oceania but it did. Many historians will agree that Captain Cook and his men’s presence there would later impact the world’s view of Hawaii and thus its “position” within Oceania. I suspect a thesis is hiding somewhere on a bookshelf about this very topic. (Great beach fodder!)
My trip to the region (later this year) will be full of beach fodder. I anticipate ample time to study, photograph and learn more about the region. And specifically Hawai’i. Aloha.
A racer buddy alerted me to the photo files of the “Spring Forward TT” … the event that was held in 28 degree temp, 20 mph constant wind, snow, sleet and slush. Yep, that’s me suffering in this photo. Warmer weather is ahead. Right?
Seems like people cannot focus on what is the “right thing to do.”
Rather than finding a good spot to just lunch-it, let’s take our family to a place where it’s more of a bar … and then let’s hang a Guinness tag around their necks because it seems cute. Later in life when they have a drinking problem – forget about owning up to it. There is nothing cute about taking your child to a bar for lunch. This is very odd to me. The older I get the more I realize how people replicate their habits – with or without me.
Nice day. Lots of working out. Miles to go before I ’slept.’ And work-work-work.
Got up. Packed food. Went riding. 4 hours worth. Ate some lunch. Cleaned the kitchen, bath, din area, washed three loads, swept the garage, washed the car, cleaned the closet, bagged the trash, cleaned some carpet areas, folded clothes, worked out again (weights) and then I ate for a fourth time. Then I had dinner – the fifth meal of the day. Lots to do – lots to accomplish – lots to eat.
Posted: she was at the mickey-d’s last week eating her ONLY meal of the day. Go super-size it.
My alarm didn’t go off as planned. OOOppps. At 6:40 my day started in panic. Had I known that the fog outside wouldn’t lift for another two hours, I would have enjoyed my breakfast and made a leisurely journey from Statesville, North Carolina to New London. Mind you, when I asked for directions to “New London” – no one had heard of it. That was comforting.
With a “triathlete mindset” I organized my shiznet, ate, showered and shaved – packed the car and moved on down Highway 70 in dense fog. The fog wasn’t in my way – an “activity bus” was and there wasn’t room to pass. Again, had I known the fog was going to delay the start, I would have enjoyed myself a bit more.
Ok then. Upon arriving I realized one ‘visual certainty’ – the field I was going to race with would be large. And by the looks of who was there – it would also be fast. Damp roads (at that point), large field, small roads, bumpy-crappy portions of roads. Blah. After speaking with the officials of the race, I elected to get out and ride. I needed 70 miles and with a two-hour delay to start my day might end way late and I still had a 270 mile drive home.
Delays in racing do happen. But not two-plus hours. For those of us who regulate body function, eating habits and warm-up routines to the exact race-start know that two-plus hours is (!) significant. Not the organizers fault – Ok. It was Mother Nature. So I warmed up about 10 miles and headed back to the paddock area to learn more. Nothing had changed – it was going to be a two-hour delay.
With that in mind, I rode portions of the course and then jumped in with the Cat5-35+ race and cruised at the back. Their field was about 40 riders and within one lap it was down to 15. It was fun riding with them because I could move up fairly easily and even with a “pushed pace” on the climbs there was room to accelerate when/where needed. The speed was about 21.8 (average) and when they neared the finish I dropped off and rode around some more. Then I waited another 1/2 hour to get going with the Masters 35+ … which would prove to be a very different race – very different.
Somewhere around 11:40AM (2 hours, 10 minutes late) our race started. I felt “cold” because I sat on my bike 15 minutes waiting to “go.” After the first short climb, the race was underway. Two guys leaped off the front and I attempted to join them. I quickly shot into the ‘red zone’ and the official’s motorcycle helped me for a fraction of a second, but he pulled over and I was on my own. The two guys were 50 yards ahead and the field was 300 yards behind. I couldn’t bridge the gap … but also I knew I couldn’t maintain their pace the whole race so I sat-up and within 30 seconds got sucked into the peloton … rocketing backward to the very back. This sucked. The move I attempted to make cost me TONS of positions — and because the roads were very narrow I had little opportunity to move up.
The field was about 80 riders to start and we began dropping riders on the first climb, then the second and so on. By the last lap the lead peloton was about 35 riders. As we approached the finish, an ambulance was on the right of the road tending to a rider – with what looked like a broken collarbone. The first 15 guys blasted into the left lane (blind hill!) and the group scattered like a shotgun blast. Many of us mentally “sat-up” because “it wasn’t worth it.” BLAH.
Picture this: at the actual finished line, the camera and platform for supporting it and the official staff were up on scaffolding with plywood as a floor. They prepared a “tree house” to hoist up their camera and viewing platform. The scary part were the metal poles at the edge of the road – jutting out like poles of death. Only a series of plastic cones separated the poles from riders as they crossed the finish line. This, in my opinion, was highly unsafe and – honestly – it was stupid. What if ??
SUMMARY: Two short races – the first was 21.8 and I wasn’t classified in their field. The second race was short at 43 miles – average speed 24.2 – average heart rate 150 – maxed three times at 177 – and finished somewhere midfield.
I packed it up and headed home – first via Taco Hell to eat and then for the next two hours I drove in the rinse cycle as the rain poured. Thank goodness I can drive in heavy rain at 80mph.
Ride-on.
I’m really tired. Friday started with a couple of “huddle” sessions then we met some. Umm. Meetings with interns, met with my bike mechanic while cramming my sandwich down. Met again with my interns.
Met with colleagues. Supped, drupped, hupped, cupped, bupped, etc. Then packed it up and traveled 200 miles to Statesville, North Carolina. The best part of today was dinner: 7oz filet medium rare, fresh asparagus, salad with plump tomatoes, fresh bread with cheese, the Buckler non-alcoholic beer, a Sam Adams real beer, and relaxation. I packed the dinner – and enjoyed eating it. A lot.
Tomorrow is going to be race-day. Best get some shut eye and mentally prepare. Good night.
Thursday was a HUGE blur: meetings had meetings and then it was time for a second workout. Huh? How does that happen? Get up – workout. Go to work. Meet. Meet some more. Meet at lunch. Meet after lunch. Meet during the meeting. Meet again. Finally the end of the day. Workout again. Go home. Clean the bike. Pack the equipment. Prepare the race gear. Pack lunch for Friday. Make breakfast Friday – and Saturday. Make dinner for Friday. Pack fuel for the race. Wash some clothes. Pickup the house. Eat at 9PM. Struggle with staying awake. Go to bed. That was 14 hours.
Good night.
In the Middle Tennessee metropolis of Springfield – near West Sandy, a new ski resort opened on Saturday. At my dad’s house. Snow was blowing and naturally the locals tested their equipment to ensure the slopes were ready. Unfortunately with 3″ of base, it was difficult to get traction in the turns. It was noted that school was closed – but then again it was Saturday. Go figure. Even WalMart was open and selling milk like gasoline – expensively. When is spring going to spring? In Springfield it was winter time on Saturday. I suspect the fish were bitin’ today – since the temps soared to – oh – 64. Spring best get here — soon.
Nestled between several nutrient-rich ocean currents, Micronesia houses an abundance of colorful marine life below the surface. This region is luscious and to the eye, it’s emerald green. The islands are grouped within a turquoise lagoon and bordered by a protective barrier reef, which keeps out the roaring, churning breaks of the Pacific Ocean. To the avid traveler, the trip, a lengthy three-stopover journey away. If you want to camp – bring it. If you love gazing at stars – ready yourself to “look it.” If you seek remote beaches, then just beach it. With calm waters, you can kayak through historical army relics left over from World War II or scuba diving at Blue Corner, arguably one of the world’s greatest sites. Overall, Micronesia scores high in the books of any adventurous spirit.
With more than 2,000 islands scattered across the Western Pacific, Micronesia’s possibilities for diving adventures, beach going experiences, water adventure and just relaxation without a population to bump up against are … well … limitless. From mysterious wrecks and rainbow-hued reefs to fascinating marine life encounters ancient ancestral traditions and seductive tropical beaches … if you’ve got the time, Micronesia has an answer. My plane departs at 8AM.
The Federated States of Micronesia (FSM) is a grouping of 607 small islands in the Western Pacific about 2,500 miles southwest of Hawaii, lying just above the Equator. Generally speaking, FSM comprises what is known as the Eastern and Western Caroline Islands. While the country’s total land area amounts to only 270.8 square miles, it occupies more than one million square miles of the Pacific Ocean, and ranges 1,700 miles from East (Kosrae) to West (Yap). Each of the four States centers around one or more “high islands,” and all but Kosrae include numerous atolls. Link over to the site: Federated States of Micronesia to learn more.
I’ve just defrosted from Saturday’s Time Trail held in Rutledge, Tennessee (it’s 7:47PM on Sunday!).
Rutledge is considered part of the Morristown MSA and is sparsely populated. Founded in 1798, this town was once a real city that had potential — primarily because its physical proximity to Federal Row (now known as US-11). This was the key road connecting New Orleans and Virginia. Enough of the history lesson – at least you know where I was day tripping.
(NOTE: The ice on the frame and down tube.)
Ok then. The Time Trail, dubbed the Spring Forward TT was the official first race within the TBRA points series. I might add that NOTHING was spring-like at this TT. NOTHING. Let me paint the picture:
Temp – 28 degree and wind chill at 17; on the bike the temp was even colder
Snow blowin’ – yes, it was really snowing not just dusty, but real snow
Wet – yes, even more wet because the roads haven’t been that cold over the last few weeks. Thus it was slushy.
Windy – double yes. The wind was howlin and it made grown men want the warmth of the fire place. I couldn’t use a disc wheel because I was afraid of being blown off the damn road!
(NOTE the ice on my feet. Much of it had fallen off at this point.)
A real TT – hell yes. It was a 40K TT. No namby-pamby 5K crappy-crap. It was 24.8 miles of frosty hell.
Location – other than it being in Rutledge, it was held on US-11 — with semi’s, cars and dogs running 55mph just inches away.
I was late getting away from the house and arrived with just enough time to change clothes, ready my bike and get on it. I didn’t get warmed up prior to the event. This was “the” day when “warming” up meant a “ready” body and “ready legs.” I was none of those things. When I got to the start line I had 12 minutes to spin around. All I could do was mentally complain about how f-ing cold it was – and how my body really needed to warm up. BLAH.
The route out (20K to the turn) was into the wind. With hills. With slush. With snow. It sucked. At 15K my body came alive (finally) and I started to gain some momentum. The minute man behind me caught me at the turn. Shawn Hurt (former Tennessee’s State Champion/Masters – and very good in a TT). Mentally it was crippling but at least it gave me someone to chase. I was the first one to go off in the Masters 40+ and thus no “rabbit” to chase. This is tough on a bunch of levels. Oh well.
When I cranked it up the last hill my legs clearly didn’t like me very much but I didn’t care. I wanted to sprint and then drive hard across the line; there wasn’t much sprinting nor driving hard across the line. At 66:12 I wasn’t too proud. Once I returned to the car my legs hurt so bad that I yelled out loud – and I’m still in some pain today. The photos attest to the frosty-ness of what I experienced. Heck, the slush built up on the number 11 cog, number 12 cog and neither of those worked!
(NOTE the ice build-up — this photo taken “after” I had removed most of it.)
I made a rookie mistake of not warming up properly. And I paid the price. I finished 3rd in Masters 40+ and picked up some TBRA points. I’m not happy about it. But then again, the time leaped forward today and we have a semi-warm week ahead of us.
Later.
Jacques Cousteau, guru of the underworld, hailed this tiny country in Micronesia as having some of the best diving in the world. I don’t dive, but fortunately, I didn’t need to–there are 1,400 species of shallow-water fish. Hawaii boasts 570.
Palau is a water destination and more. Travelers can kayak to WWII sites and secluded beaches, hike through jungles and waterfalls and swim with dolphins at the Dolphins Pacific center. And if you do scuba, there are 70 official dive sites.
Made up of 300 islands, Palau has 20,000 residents, and in terms of population and land mass, is one of the smallest countries in the world. Yet this epicenter of biodiversity has attracted divers since the 1980s. Tourism, however, is slow and steady, which suits Palauans just fine. New hotels, roads, bridges and hordes of travelers can be harmful to the coral and sea life, so there’s a concerted effort to grow at an environmentally sustainable pace. This unique combination makes it a must-visit location and one that will surely allow for true relaxation. Until you have to leave.
This little gem is located deep in the south Pacific – way deep. Calalin Island is far away from anything we can imagine but mentally close because of its picturesque beauty. “I’ll take two helpings please.” I have a reason for such a statement: Calalin Island (specifically the Calalin Channel) is dubbed shark alley. I have a couple of colleagues that need to visit this location and carry some bleeding fish on their “persons.”
Seriously, the area has some of the prettiest white sand beaches on the planet and no matter what time of year they are not crowded. Divers who are “in the know” recognize that the warm water temperatures, and cloudless days make for wetsuit-free diving and relaxing evenings. The most complex angle to the the Marshall Islands is the fact that the majority of people who visit the Islands – have to return to their homes after visiting. This thought creates a lot of angst within my body. I believe I’ll stick with Hawaii for now. Unless of course the PowerBall numbers tumble my way this Saturday. More later.
The show “Survivor” is unfolding on the island of Palau – near the Federated States of Micronesia. I’ve been fascinated with Oceania and the region of Micronesia for a few years – and the fascination did NOT originate with Survivor. A flight instructor that I flew with (on Oahu) told me he married a lady from Micronesia … and his experiences from the Micronesia region sounded unique. “Steve” told me that if I ever had the opportunity to visit Micronesia it might yield something I didn’t expect – a yearning to stay.
Palau, and specifically Malakal is part of the Caroline Islands, near Indonesia just south of the Tropic of Cancer and east of the Philippines. Should you need more information, refer to the your 8th Edition of the World Atlas by National Geographic and you can view MEGA-details. Based on the map, Survivor shot the show in a remote area – and area that has no cable-TV, cellular service is limited, contestants cannot stay at the Nikko and FedEx will not deliver packages to them. I also might add that asparagus isn’t available — best get on with fishing.
When I eventually visit I’m going to the Rock Islands, south of Malakal, an off shoot of Koror, which is even more remote. Snorkeling is plentiful with large reefs surrounded by the contrasting mushroom shaped Rock Islands.
Best get the gear packed.
Time flew by me so quickly I didn’t realize the clock was ticking … I looked up and it was sweeping round and round. I did think about the islands again – not so much because it would have been more fun to be there rather than “here.” Actually I did so because there is so much to “ooo and ahhh” over – so let’s just enjoy a fish-eye view of the landed world.
Somewhere between here and the Pacific Ocean is a lovely view called “ahh.” If you like it, smile. Most folks do and very few seek snow covered lands over a beach. I might suggest that when you travel to the Islands that you bring some SPF30 because extended stays in the sun aren’t healthy. Extended stays on Hawaii are ultra-healthy. Let’s go.
You got to love it – it’s far, far, far away in a galaxy unknown to most of the world as we know it. Those who are in the know, divers that is, favor the region because days are generally “blue” and the sun shines like it’s stuck on SPF50. Divers favor Chuuk Lagoon for its array of colorful maritime species and its large proliferation of shipwrecks. The lagoon is littered with Japanese vessels that were sunk during fighting in World War II.
Now the blah-dity-blah-blah … Micronesia consists of the Caroline Islands Archipelago in the western Pacific Ocean. In 1899 Spain sold the islands to Germany. Japan later occupied the region and fortified the islands just before World War II. In 1986 these 600 islands and atolls, formerly part of the U.S.-administered Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands, became self-governing in free association with the United States. American aid is crucial to the islands’ economy. Enough of the history lesson. Let’s see some good visuals.
Ahhhhh.
Sunday was a great day to be outside. Warm weather, breezy when needed, sunny sky, great views and plenty of traffic. Yep, that made for an interesting ride on the Parkway. I executed a double-climb of the Parkway today – climbing each hill section twice. So – the first three miles I climbed it and road back down then turned back and climbed it again but then kept going. I road onward to the top then to Highway 129 and climbed back to the top again. Once there, I went back to 129 and climbed that section again. When I arrived at the top I went down to the first level point (about 3.2 miles from the summit) and climbed back up. (Wish I had eaten a little more at that point).
The total mileage was 65 and change. Not bad after racing the day before (60 miles and another 10 warm up/cool down). In fact, my legs felt pretty good – even with a weight workout before the climbing workout. Insane for many folks – even for me (LOL). With almost 5:40 minutes total workout time – I made sure that I was “done” when I got back to the car.
I’m looking forward to this WHOLE week – it’s a transition week where I get some much needed recovery. Rest time.
Yesterday was very stressful. On a bunch of levels. I then picked my ass up from my chair in my office, packed my bags and headed out into the pouring rain – to drive in heavy traffic. More blah. The trip to Asheville felt like the spin cycle was stuck and I was just getting wet to no end. On the other side of the mountains the sky parted and I saw a glimmer of blue – but then the sun set on me.
I traveled to Greenville, South Carolina again for a race. Another in the Hincapie Sports – Spring Training Series. I elected to travel on Friday because the race started at 9AM this morning … so I camped out at the Hampton Inn. Luck would have it that I found a Whole Foods Market – and that made the trip delightful. My daily ration of asparagus and some tasty tenderloin – along with the requisite after-dinner sweet treat – some non-alcoholic beer and I was set. The asparagus was grilled and the tenderloin med-rare and ready to eat. YUMMY!
I checked in – unpacked and ate. 5AM was coming soon enough – so I tucked in early.
Sure enough the alarm clock worked as planned. I ate (leisurely) – readied my bike – showered and shaved … and strolled to the race site. I was early and there was no line. So far (at that point), great.
When I returned to the car and began the ritual of pinning my number, picking my wearables, finding my drinks and gel-paks … I noted (in HORROR) that my helmet was missing. Ooopps. Prior to the baby going waggghhhh I realized that I placed it in my street clothes bag – NOT the cycling bag. With the helmet in hand I made a vow to use my check list from now on – no questions.
Alright then. Today’s little adventure was 60 miles of rolling hills and a couple of short climbs in the hinder lands near Greenville. The wind, as usual, made its presence known early – clocked at a steady 20mph. And 8 miles of the 15 mile loop were “in the wind.” Oh boy.
RACE TIME: The field was the same size from the prior weekend with some new faces – and some friendly ones that I recognized. Although the first mile was neutral, a hog-dog took off and led for the first lap. Whatever. I stayed near the front and worked – and worked. Three attempts to break away with a couple of guys only motivated the field to jump on us. Some guys tried to get away – with the same reaction by me and the rest. The second lap (15 miles each lap), we were catching the group in front of us and the group behind us was catching us. Big ooops. Now what? The marshal whipped his motorcycle up beside me and said slow down – you need to ride neutral. For the next 5 miles we did just that – ride slow.
On lap three some guys broke off the front and a small “band” of us reeled them back in – and yes, they were very annoyed. This kept happening and I felt like – at some point – a group would bridge away. Nope. Not today. The wind was too strong and the climbs were just steep enough that several us brought the field back up to the ‘jumpers.’ As we passed the finish line for lap 4 the field looked anxious and the tempo really heated up. My heart rate maxed out twice as I attempted to stay with the first 8 riders. I wanted the guys in that small group to be comfortable with my presence so it didn’t look odd when we made the last climb of the day.
We when did make the final climb of the day some fools jumped around us (passing over the yellow line) – the marshal honked his horn and it created mayhem on the front. A guy dropped his chain and before I knew it, the first 8 or 9 guys were now 14 and I wasn’t with them!!!!
With a ½ mile to the finish (slightly uphill), I got on the bridge of my saddle and went into the best time trail position I could muster up – my legs were screaming with anger – my heart rate was 94% of max – and slowly I began bridging the gap. Reiterate – s l o w l y. I just about called it a day and sat up but realized I was nearing those “jumpers” who crossed the yellow line and skated away. At the 200 meter sign I stood up and I promise you – uphill, in the wind, I was going (maybe) 21mph. HA! I held off a couple of guys who wanted my slipstream and I almost got the “jumpers.”
Race Day Two done: 60 miles – rolling with two climbs – 22.8 average speed (we had 15 minutes in neutral) – average heart rate 147 (maxed 2 times) – finished 5th. Collected $20 bucks and headed home – 200 miles home.
OH. Rumor had it that George Hincapie was going to race with the Pro1,2 but never did show. I doubted the rumor – I mean – would George risk a crash in a Podunk race just to whip some ass? No. He’s headed to Europe for a few months to really race. Ride on and good luck George. Maybe we’ll see you next year.
