Moving, and Blumenstien Ultra-Fi

Today, I move!

On the way I stop to visit my good buddy Clark down at Blumenstein Ultra-Fi where I saw Clarko's latest gorgeous creation:

 This giant sexy behemoth produced some of the most vibrant, luscious sounds I've ever heard -- even when they were blasting really fucking loud. What you're looking at is only the proof of concept -- the finished piece shall be made of the finest wood, and to Clark's exacting standards.

 GliderBison loves you Clarko.

Then I hit the road. It's been a while road. I've missed you.

Boise Checklist

Moving to Boise checklist.

Step 1: Sell time trial bike.

 Yes, sadly, it was time. Time to send my faithful Blue beauty off to her new lucky owner. I remember those giddy feelings that flooded my brain when I first got ahold of her. "You're really fast looking!" I thought. She was a great steed, and carried me to many a fine result over the last two seasons. She racked up a state TT title, a Ski-to-Sea Top Gun award, a fourth place at the Mt. Hood Cycling classic, and finished second behind Ian McKissick more times than I care to count (I'LL GET YOU IAN MCKISSICK!!!!!!!). Fare thee well, Blue Triad. You shall be missed.

Step 2: Defibrillate truck.

Yes, my truck has seen better days. Those of you who have haunted GliderBison since the dawn will remember me constantly galavanting across the northwest in my gorgeous gray gob of gears (see photo of my awesome truck at the height of her powers).

Well, after moving to Seattle (for good) in the winter of '09, I parked my truck in our driveway. Unable (or perhaps just unwilling) to afford proper vehicle registration and insurance, and keen on living a bike-only lifestyle, I just let her sit there. Oh, I'd start her up every so often and let her idle in the driveway for an hour, but I could tell she wasn't happy -- my truck craved the open road! She longed to cruise at her top speed of 60 mph across the endless Pallouse hills of Eastern Washington. However, my truck's last stretch of inactivity spanned nearly 6 months, and I was worried I might have neglected her to death this time. Those rust patches: bigger. My efforts to jump the battery: unsuccessful. My neighbor who knows about these things better than I pronounced the battery fully and completely dead. So, my wallet flushed with TT bike money, I bought her a new battery:

AND LO -- SHE STARTED UP WITH GUSTO, much to the utter astonishment of my housemates, and neighbors, many of whom have never seen her move an inch. 

 I filled up her tires, and BOOM! SHE'S READY TO HIT THE ROAD!!!

Step 3: Celebrate!

Leaving Seattle

What is it about moving? 

Right now, I'm preparing to uproot. Granted, by some standards, my roots never got that deep in Seattle. It's not like I own a house here. It's not like my cousins live down the street. Still, Seattle has been home for the last two years, and from a plant's perspective uprooting is always traumatic, no matter how deep its roots. 

Boise bound. I'm Boise bound and that's not a bad thing. Not at all -- I'm thrilled to live there again. And I'm sure Boise will have me back; after all we left on good terms. After all, it was just under three years ago that I was doing the inverse. Boise to Seattle. 

Now Seattle to Boise. The emotions are similar, though not the same. 

I'm moving to Boise to be closer to my new team. It make sense in so many ways: better riding, cheaper living, more team mates. My new team. I'm on a new team! That feels strange to say. I've been with this team for five years. For five years this team has been nurturing me. Building me. "Developing" me. It's flattering. And it's sad to leave. I'll miss Hagens Berman. I will do my best to make you proud. Your time and money and energy and support were well placed. 

There are a few obstacles that I must overcome before I can leave. Gotta get my truck running again. Gotta sell enough stuff or do enough work to afford my travels. Gotta say goodbye to everyone, especially the people who have helped me this far -- my friends and teammates. 

And it's not like I'm moving to Egypt. I'll see all you Seattlites again. And we'll gulp gourmet coffee in classy coffee shops, and we'll dance dance dance til our feet hurt and our knees ache, and we'll ride the North End Loop, or the South End Loop of maybe even get out to Carnation or Monroe or Snoqualmie Falls.

It's not like I'm moving to Egypt.