The Quest for the Perfect "All Rounder"

The 91' Trek 930.

 

     In the past decade or so, I've been the very proud owner of some pretty good bikes. None of them were in anyway pricey steeds, but they were a pride to ride. There was the $25 steel road bike from the 70's that I sadly got rid of in search of a speedier ride. I really should have kept it. There was the Wal-Mart road bike that got stolen off our front porch while I went to run a quick errand. Then there was and is my Trek 1000 that I paid payments on and in the end someone, who still remains a mystery, paid off the majority of it and it is still a bike I ride on a weekly basis. And lastly, there was the Biria CitiBike 7 that I bought using almost exclusively the change I gathered each day out of the huge car wash vacuums when I worked for a car wash when we lived in Macon. Each bike was great for so many reasons, but each was lacking in something, and a few were lacking in several ways. And without knowing it till about two years ago, I've always been looking for a bike that has been dubbed the title, "all rounder".

     If you've never heard the term, "all rounder". Join the club. To be honest, I hadn't heard the term till around two or three years ago. I guess its because that's not an idea that goes well with a modern marketing scheme. And to make it as simple as it's supposed to be is than an "all rounder" is a bike that can seemingly do it all on. You can put skinnier tires on it and head out for a fast club ride, or you can put some knobby tires on it and hit some mountain single track, or you can throw some racks on it and take it on a cross country tour or to the office. And it makes perfect sense for there not to be bike companies out there running around trying to design the perfect bike to fit this scheme. That would be silly. Why would a company who could sell you three, four, or even six different bikes rush out to design a bike that could sort of do it all? They wouldn't and they aren't.

     Well, I should be quick to say that most aren't. In the past three to five years, as the, "gravel grinding" and cyclocross trends, have heated up, many companies are sort of jumping on board. Sort of. And many companies like Velo Orange, Surly, and Rivendell Bicycle Works have put out bikes that could fall into the "all rounder" settings; with Rivendell having really been putting out the type of bike that could do well in most all biking scenarios since it opened it's doors in 94'. But it all fairness, it was the Bridgestone Bicycle USA company of the early 1990's, that put out the now infamous and heavily-envied, XO-1, designed by the great Grant Petersen, who opened Rivendell Bicycle Works in 1994 when Bridgestone USA shut it's doors and Grant P. was out of a job. He came out the following year, 1995, with a Rivendell model, named, The All Rounder. It was marketed, if you could call what Rivendell does, as marketing at all, that was supposed to be the bike to end all need for other bikes. And for some, it was and is. And since 1996, they have designed about 10 different models, but for the most part, the basic design has been to have a bike that with just a few changes here and there, you'd have a bike you could seemingly do it all on. And no...not in the extreme cases, but why do we always go to the extremes when we read something like this. No, you couldn't race against the elite racers on the Tour de France on a Rivendell nor would you try to win the X Games riding a Rivendell. Hopefully, you get what I am trying to say. Sometimes, I mean well, but don't write so well.

The Bridgestone XO-1.

A Rivendell All Rounder.

    Bicycles are like most hobbies in that you can spend a lot of money on them and in the end not really get your money out of whatever you purchased because you just knew you needed whatever it was that you bought. I read this funny article about how hunting makes the meat worth something like $10 a pound; which is double or triple what it costs in the grocery store. Or how someone might pay $3000 for a bike to save money on gas when they really would have only spent about $1800 on gas for a whole year. I feel like this could be said about most hobbies. You can pretend that isn't true, but we all know it is. Everyday, I drive a $4500 Subaru to work and everywhere else and everyday I look at bikes that would cost me near about the same, but would not get me to work and do all the things my car does. I would think twice about buying a car that cost about $5000, but wouldn't think twice about a bike in that price range, if I had that kind of money. This may not be true for you, but it is at least true for me. I guess it is a very good thing I don't have much money!

 

 

 

The Biria CitiBike 7. I thought it would be my "all rounder", but it just wasn't meant to be.

 

      Finding the perfect bike is a hard task unless you jump to being very specific. The best bike for the beach is a beach cruiser. The best bike for a road ride is a road bike. The best bike for an inner city commute is a commuter bike. However, most people don't ride bikes like that AND most people don't have enough money, or energy, or space in their garage for a whole stable full of ultra-specific rides. And most people don't have the time to maintain 5-7 different bikes in hopes of riding in 5-7 different scenarios during a year. I know I don't and when I think about most of the people I ride bikes with, they don't either. So most people are stuck riding a bike built for one thing, but they typically not riding in that scenario; like most of you who ride your mountain bikes around your paved neighborhood and peddle your little hearts out trying to keep up with the person you are riding with who has a bike with a tighter frame and skinnier tires who is riding 30 feet ahead of you, but is coasting. I know you've been there because I've been there. I've also been the guy bogged down in the mud on a road bike off-road or getting my insides shaken to the limit trying to ride a road bike on some single track. Yes, you can ride any bike anywhere, but it usually results in a not so pleasant of a ride and sometimes it results in a broken bike.

 

      My 1970's road bike was a great bike, but it was steel and so very heavy. I should have kept it, but was under the illusion that a lighter bike would make me so much faster and that is not wholly true. I could have made it into a pretty reliable all-rounder, but instead sold it to buy a lighter, newer road bike. My Wal-Mart road bike was an average bike at its best, but if you tried to ride on something other than newer asphalt, then it was a less than perfect bike. My Trek 1000SL is a great bike and I have ridden it somewhere around 9500 or so miles on a whole host of places, but it is a road bike first and foremost and has done well in other scenarios, but I have also blown a lot tires and broken a few components putting it in situations it was not built to handle. I have even used it for many a miles for some light touring and some pretty heavy commuting and it has handled well, but it also sounds like it is struggling. Two years ago, I bought the Biria CitiBike 7 (pictured above) in an attempt to buy a bike I could do it all on and thought I had chosen well, but then we moved to the country and found out over a three month period that I had in fact not chosen well. In a short matter of time, I had blown threw several tire tubes and broken the rear tire twice. I don't think poorly of any of these bikes because most of their failures or shortcomings came when they were put into a situation they were not designed for.

 

     I guess a good question to attempt to answer is why I, or for that matter anyone else,  would want an all-rounder bike  and not just keep two or three bikes around and use the right one for the right situation and just be happy! And I guess that the only good answer is that you could do that, but most people don't ride in a single scenario even in a single ride unless you jump straight to the very specifics or the extremes, but even the elites on a Grand Tour have three or four different bikes they ride during the Tour depending on the type or style of riding they are expected to do. Take my usual ride for instance, it includes at least three to four different types of terrain even if I just take a short ride. My driveway is clay and soft sand. The road out of my driveway is newer asphalt and if I get off that road, I will be on clay road, soft roads, dirt roads, old gravel roads, fire roads, sidewalks, mulch paths, and pine straw. I need a bike that can handle each of these surface changes without bogging down, or incurring too much friction, or sliding around, or sliding out from me, or crashing with me on it. I also need a bike I can strap a rack that can hold all my stuff without hurting the frame too much. And since Mel and FH refuse to follow me around on every ride carrying several different bikes, then my only real choice is to find a bike that can fall as close to possible to the all-rounder definition. An all-rounder that I could actually afford until I win the lotto or something and get some real folding money!

 



 

My "new to me" 1991 Trek 930.

 

 

            And so after much thought, maybe far too much thought, many internet searches, thorough readings and re-readings of a few key books, a few looks at my finances, I came to the realization that my current bicycle line up was not one I wanted to continue on with. I sold my Biria to a nice lady who was moving to the ATL and wanted to rid herself of her car and become a bike commuter. The Biria was and is an excellent bike for that. Had I stayed in Macon or moved to an equal or larger city, I would have kept that bike, but that was not my situation. I then spent a lot of time on Craigslist and other like places, both on and off the internet, searching high and low for an older, shock-less, hardtail, mountain bike, one that was built in the USA, that could be overhauled and revamped for less than a small fortune. A bike I could turn into my perfect all-rounder. 

 

   Finding a bike to fit this definition may sound like an easy task, but I'll tell you it is far from that. I know this sounds hard to believe, but vintage mountain bikes are in high demand  with folks like me. And there are more people out there like than you want there to be. The hard part is finding a bike that affordable AND still in good shape. Bicycles are not usually treated well. They are usually mistreated, kept out in the rain, stored in wet garages, rarely maintained, fixed or repaired the cheapest or easiest way, etc. And once owners need to sell them, they begin by asking the price they paid for them 10,15,20 years ago. And if they happen to be a "rare" bike or model, then the owner wants 2-3 times what they paid for them no matter what condition they are in. I found myself in this predicament during the whole time of hunting for the right bike. Most mountain bike, even high end models, cost around $200-$400 in the late 80's and early 90's; a time most American companies were still producing high quality bikes in the USA before they started sending jobs to China and Korea. If you do a quick search on Craigslist you may quickly notice that bikes that are 20+ years old are still being sold for almost $200 and may be missing some parts, rusted, broken, etc. It is crazy, but it is true.

 

     Well, after many, many failed attempts and many, many emails to sellers in three different States, I settled on a 1991 Trek 930. The seller originally wanted $150, but after having not sold it for a long time, he gave in and kindly sold it to me for $75. The bike was in Orlando, Florida, so my parents graciously met the Craigslist killer in a Target parking lot and got the bike for me. And they lived to tell about it, so that was a huge plus. I was so happy to get the bike that when they brought it to me, I rode it in a hotel parking lot in order to get in my first "official" ride. And it did not disappoint.

 



  

A few of the components I'll be using to remake my new all-rounder.

        I have had the Trek 930 now for about six months and I've ridden it about 200 miles. It is a great bike and I'll be quick to admit that it is also a pretty bike when you really take the time to look at it, but most of all, it's a fun bike. I'll also be quick to admit that it also isn't finished yet. Fixing up a bike takes a lot of time and a lot of money and those are two things I don't usually have. I sold my Biria for $250 and that money went quickly into paying for a past repair on the Biria, the price of the new bike, and several of the components that are picture above. One weekend near the end of summer, I disassembled and reassembled as much of the bike as I could using YouTube videos and a great maintenance book my mom gave me. I put a new stem on the bike, new handlebars, new tubes and tires, bottle cages, a kickstand, a bell, and peddles. And that is where the project sits. I tried revamping the brakes, but really made a mess of things. I'd like to buy some new handlebar grips, a set of brakes, and install a good front rack and the new gearing I have already purchased and then the bike will be as fixed up as I want for now. I get pretty excited just thinking about how great this bike is going to be once I'm finished with it. Don't worry, I'll probably do a short post on it, but for now I'll just settle for looking at the bike, riding my road bike on dirt roads and having to walk it some, and finding things I don't use anymore to raise the last bit of cash.

 

 

 

Happy reading, riding, and dreaming of better bikes,

 

 

DAVID

Summer in Full Bloom

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” 
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

   I fully realize that it is the first of August, but I still wanted to put together a quick, or at least as quick as I can put forth, update about us and just what we've been up to the last two and half months. I also realize that my last post was somewhere in early May. What can I say? We've been busy. Crazy busy. I can't say that I've had a string of days where I had time to sit down and type and if the time was there, the desire was to be elsewhere, far from the confines of a screen and a keyboard. There is too much of that during the regular part of the year and when it's summer and you're a teacher, you've got to suck the very marrow out of the time you have off because just as the time off has begun, you can almost hear it ending like a huge freight train way off there in the distance. And I don't care who you know, who you read, or what you really think, but teaching is, in my humblest of opinions, one of the hardest professions out there, except that instead of pay compensation and complete respect, all you really get is more requirements from the school, or the state, or both and a longer list of people who think you've given up on life, which is why you're teaching, or a very long list of people who think you're lazy, which is why you teach, and a very, very long list of people who think you are getting paid too much to just work a few hours each day and then get a, "two month vacation…man, I wish my job gave me two months off…".   I'll gladly take your engineering gig that's 50 hours a week where you sit at a desk and wonder at times if you can stretch your latest project out a little longer in order to have something to do with my classroom of 20-30 kids, all at different learning levels and abilities, for even just 50 minutes and you are responsible for EVERYTHING that goes on in that room. I'll even "settle" for your week off where you are off and can afford to go somewhere. Most teachers go for the ole' "staycation" because being at home is affordable. I'll end my little rant for now. Hope you enjoy the post. You're probably reading it at work and getting paid by the hour. I hope for you it's overtime pay. My brother in law makes about $30+ an hour during these times. I usually work about 15-20 hours of overtime or weekend time, but my time is considered an investment in the future. I can only dream of being paid for this type of investment. I know, I chose this vocation and I was not in it for the money, but I'm sure you'd get this feeling too if you worked so very hard, made so very little, and then had to hear at least once a week from someone one of the above things and then had to hold your tongue after they told you of being bored at work.

      BUT…I guess before I dive into it, I'll say one more thing. Mel, FH, and I had one sole and single goal for this summer. We had, as Mr. B. H. Obama, says so often about so many different things…."we had a laser-like focus"…on this one, solitary goal. (One a side note, it must be a dangerous place at the WH to have so many lasers pointing around.) And the goal was this: Make this summer 100% better than last summer. That may sound like a hard task, but when if you knew what a special piece of the hot place our last summer was, you'd quickly realize that we could do almost anything and it be a full 100% better than last summer. Don't get me wrong, we had so much help and so much generosity, etc given to us last summer, but no one wants to work basically 6-7 days a week for three full months completely ripping out everything in a house and building it back again and doing about 90% of the work yourself and be fresh off so many other personal and emotional traumas and just have to put those on the back burner so the work can go on and at the same time attempt to fill out somewhere around 250-300 job applications in all your 'free time" and then try to shower quickly and scrub paint off your hands to look nice for an interview and then leave the interview, knowing that you had to have a job, any job, because money was low and your last paycheck was going to soon run out, and head back to work. It really was a fresh piece of hell. I'd wish it on no one. So…we just wanted a better summer. We needed it. We had to have it. It was a need and not a want.

   

Apollo 12

      I ended my first year at Tiftarea Academy and God was so gracious and faithful to us, as usual in spite of our great unfaithfulness, and had them ask me to stay for another year. A huge gigantic sigh of relief was had here at the Otter Creek Camphouse when my signature was on the new contract, that contained a small raise, my first in over seven years, and it was handed in. But the end of the school year resembled the reentering of one of the Apollo space modules back into the Earth's atmosphere. No, I wasn't one of the semi-terrified astronauts who hoped the space capsule would hold together and splash into the ocean. No, I was the space capsule burning. Or at least that what it felt like. With track & field finishing up and me bearing the brunt of the responsibilities of head coach as an assistant, and exams, and last minute meetings, and budgets, and inventories, it seemed like every day brought with it another checklist of things I was suppose to finish before I left, but would take me so long to finish even a single line of the lists. And I haven't even mentioned the grading of the exams, but I'll let you do the math…say you have 115 students and each exam that is given has over 100 questions on it and most of them are not multiple choice and private schools don't have scantron machines, how many questions do you have to grade in about fourish days? The answer is around 11,500 give or take a few. But the main thing is that I finished. Barely. I crawled out of my room and limped into the car and drove home. Your first year of teaching is so very hard and if you begin teaching in a new place, you get to live that first year again. I have moved schools four times. I just maybe a professional idiot. 

     The above pic is not me, but of the never-aging Mark Harmon, of CSI fame, but I followed the end of school with…you guessed it: more school. I was asked to teach summer school and I jumped at the chance because the money was pretty good and we need all the extra money we can get because we are doing everything we can do to pay off all of our debts, save, be wise, etc with the money God has given us. And so just a few days after school had ended, I found myself back in a classroom with three kids who had failed a subject or two. I usually teach science, but they had asked me to teach Algebra I and II. I won't say too much about my summer school experience except that all that you see in the movies or on tv may have a lot of truth to it. The kids are super, super unmotivated. The teachers are there for money or obligation and are also unmotivated. There is literally no one else at the school. It feels too weird. You make the kids obey the rules, but really if everyone went crazy, there is no one there to say they did. I used to believe that teaching and grading math would be easier than science, but after my little eight day stint as a math teach, everything I thought was wrong. Typical. I really know nothing. Grading math is super hard. After I graded about 2000+ problems, I knew I had been so very wrong in my ignorant assumption. It was one of the most tedious things I've ever done. If I ever had a chance to punish an enemy of mine, this will be my go-to. 

The Otter Creek Camphouse in March about to get painted. 

    During Spring Break, or SB2K15 as the cool kids were saying, we bit the bullet and laid out the cash because of a paint sale at our local Sherwin Williams and began to paint out house. We, as usual, thought we'd just knock it out over the next five or so days and call it a job well done, but we only finished about 70% of the job and then I went back to school and then track went into hyper-drive and the paint stayed in the shed and we did not go back to it. This summer, we wanted to finish what we had started. That sounds a lot more mincing than we are, but when you are painting an old brick house  that greatly lacks character in South Georgia and the thermometer stays in the 90's from 8-9 and the humidity sits above 40%, you really try to psyche yourself up and pretend the sun is really not burning you, and making you think weird things, and that, that little bit of paint in your eye actually helps you see better.

Our house mid-March, we didn't get much farther than this. 

Inside my father in law's shop. A pre-stain pic of our great shutters.

Our house as of a few days ago. 

   Overall, we spent about two weeks outside priming, painting, and trying to finish up what we began in March. I will be quick to say we weren't smart about it. We'd sleep a little late, drink several cups of good coffee very slowly, read a few things, play with FH, and then find ourselves looking at the clock around noon saying to each other that we'd best get to it. Smarter folks would have gotten to "it" about six hours earlier and painted before the mercury sat in the high 90's. But we've never claimed to be smart or wise! We've finished about 98% of the painting, my father in law helped us build some shutters that Mel found on the NET that weren't too hard to duplicate, which really added so much to our little house, and we removed the last of an ugly awning that had been put up. Our house looks so much better or at least we think so. We still have a couple full days of touch-ups and last things, but we're so proud of how the house looks. We've done so much work over the last year, but we feel so accomplished knowing in that about a year's time, we completely gutted the inside and rebuilt it and have now painted and redone the exterior as well. It is really beginning to feel like home now in all the right ways. And by "we", I mean my kind and extremely patient and talented father in law, my brother in law, Mel, and a cast of other characters. Just Mel and I could have never done so much in such a small amount of time. And I know some of you watch who too much HGTV and think it only takes about 30 minutes or so to redo a full house and I'll only say that is only true on TV; except in order to be honest, it probably actually only takes about 20 minutes if you subtract the commercials. It'd be good for you guys to stay in that blissful place. It is less painful and much, much cheaper. Sweat equity is no joke. And if Mel were writing this post, you'd get much better pictures and less snarky commentary.

A beautiful and big crepe myrtle blossom. Our little driveway is lined with about 15 of these trees. We didn't plant them, but we are growing them and hoping they'll really add to our place. 

A little boy, a fishing pole, some terrible fishing tactics, and some mud all add up to some really good times.

   

    One of the greatest parts about living here can best be summed up from just looking at the picture above. When we lived in Macon, our house sat about 40 feet or less from a very busy road and we were constantly worried about where FH was and what he was up to. But now we live almost a full half mile off the road and are surrounded by open fields, a few ponds, a creek, woods, and a few dirt roads. I cannot honestly think of a better place for a little boy to get to grow up. I know as a little boy, I was fortunate enough to spend many years of my life on just a little bit of this and I loved every second of it and to be honest, I still do. Little Fordy loves the outdoors and as a parent, it seems he gets in so much less trouble outside. He loves the dirt. He loves the bugs. He loves the cows and pointing to so many different things. It is such a blessing to be outside with him. It allows both Melissa and myself to remember how truly awesome it is to be made to explore and to "see" again the wondrous and complex nature that surrounds us. As Mel so often says to those who ask the size of our home, is that what it lacks for in inside space, it fully makes up for in outside space. And as far I am forever concerned, I'd rather have big outside space than thousands of square feet inside. We three people love fresh air and seem to need more and more of it as the days go by. And there are few better ways to end a long day of any type of work than to get to walk down a dirt road with a little boy who stops every few feet to show you something that you'd have been too busy or too shallow to see. If you were to ask me the key to life, I'd have to tell that observation is one of the keys and FH is teaching us to do that again. It is a gift to be taught again to see. We have spent a lot of time outside this summer.

A sunset view from one of the many clay and dirt roads near our home. 

   One of my favorite parts about summer is that it stays so light for so long. And one of the things I've really loved doing this summer and some of last is to wait till it is about time and then throw FH onto the back of our bike or in our old truck and try to find the steepest hill to catch the sunset and watch the sun go down. It is truly a magical experience and one of the only times we get to see the real color of the sky. This summer, we have chased some pretty great sunsets and each one, even those we only were fortunate enough to catch the tail end of, were more than worth it. Each time it feels as if time slows for a few moments and it is just FH and me at the edge of the horizon. I know how that sounds, but you should give it a try. It is a truly wondrous thing to sit on the top of a hill on the side of a bike or on top of a truck tool box and watch that great big ball of fire descend and have a little boy sitting there sharing it with you. If feels like something you should have spent your whole life doing. Or at least it does to me. We have chased a lot of sunsets this summer and each one was worth it. 

A little boy, a bike, and a ball of fading light. 

My new to me ride, an old Trek 930. 

   I'm working up a little post about it, but it is far from complete and I wanted to say a few things about it here, so here it goes. Several months ago, I came to the realization that I needed a different type of bike for the riding that I was doing. Yes, I had a great road bike and the awesome bike I get to ride FH around in, but we live in a very rural area and just to get to the paved road is a half mile ride on clay and some very soft sand. If you've ridden a road bike, you know they can do it, but they just aren't built to do so. I had originally thought my Biria Citibike would be the trick for my multi-terrain life, but after breaking not one, but two spokes on my back tire and a few other components merely riding down some back roads, I knew I had to make a move or spend too much money buying new parts. I sadly sold the Biria, but that gave me the money to buy the above bike and a few of the items I am using to change it into my all-rounder bike that I want and need. It is from 1991 and is a Craigslist deal. My kind parents went and met the "craigslist" killer in a Target parking lot in Central Florida and picked it up for me. It is, or at least I truly believe so, going to be just the type of bike I need for the riding I do around here. I've already ridden it about a hundred miles or so and it rides so well. I can't wait to finish rebuilding it and have really enjoyed learning, or at least trying to learn, how to work on my own bike this summer and have even gotten comfortable doing a few things I used to pay someone else to do. 

I tried to do one of those neat pics I see on Instagram and other places where one lays out all their gear or in this case, all my new bike components. I laid out the gear, but then my little helper brought over his magnetic fishing pole and rearranged the items before I could snap a pic. I could've posted the other pic, but this is what my actual life is like. 

Pecos, our little cow. 

      Last summer in the thick of everything else, we adopted a little cow. He had a sad back story. We are suckers for that. Big time. His mother had been sold off without her owners realizing she had, had a calf. He went a full week without food or care. He then was rescued by a farmer who tried his best, but in reality didn't feed him enough. And then enter Mel, FH, and me. A few over-eager, poor, mostly ignorant folks who know less that zero percent of what you should about most things and in the end you have us reading the directions on the side of a cattle milk-replacement bag trying to know how to mix it and then feed it to a severely hungry bull calf. Flash forward to this summer and we have about a 400 lb bull calf. We, in theory, are now in the cattle rancher game and Pecos is our game piece. It is a great game to be in and one of the many reason we moved from our life in Macon. We want to farm. We want to have a little, sustainable farm and use the land we have been blessed to live on and near well. And Pecos was a good way to start. It is a real blessing to know where your food comes from. We are working towards knowing exactly where it comes from and have the answer be our own house and land.

    A few weeks ago, we waved goodbye to Pecos and sent him off to the livestock sale. It was sad and I didn't get a picture as we worked him through the shoots, and weighed him, and loaded him in the cattle trailer. I thought about it, but it seemed weird. We sold him and it was hard to do, but it wasn't hard to put the money he sold for in our savings account. We have a goal with the cows on this land and we hope to have enough money saved up to buy a cow in the nearest future. And from that cow, several others. It is a good thing to have cows. It is a fulfilling and good thing to work livestock . It is hard, but there is something, older, than I think we'd be willing to say about working cows and being close to cattle or any type of livestock or farm animal. It is very hard work, but it is also very calming and rewarding. It is also humbling to stand beside an animal who weighs near a ton. It is something we are all interested in. And it is joy to get to actually to do; even in small ways. So…goodbye Pecos. You'll always be remembered here by us. You were our first. We'll miss you. We appreciate the start you gave us.

Air FH on the Fourth of July

Another shot of my father in law's shop. 

   After we had finished up most of our painting, I went and worked for my father in law for 12 days. His business is named, Hunter Industrial Bag Repair. The "bags" he repairs are really these great, big, two-hundred pound behemoths that are made of rubber and are used to line the train cars they use to carry carbon black. Never heard of carbon black? Think of something black that you use. Paint? Ink? Toner? Tires? Brakes? All great products that are made of carbon black or use the product in the process it takes to make them. These giant bags used to break, just like a tire tube in a bike tire does, and then they were thrown away and replaced. My father in law, Mark, devised a way to fix them instead of just throwing them away, test them, and reuse them using a several step process. It's a green business, but he'd probably not own up to it in that way. People that are actually doing things for the environment aren't usually the types you see screaming about it on CNN begging for attention or credit. His little company also fixes the gates and the gate covers that sit under most train cars that haul any type of product and the gate allows anything from sand to corn flow from the car to somewhere else via the bottom of the car. I have worked for him for about a decade on and off. He's a great boss and the job is a good change from my main one. He pays really well and it really helps us each time he has a space for me to work. This summer was no different and I'm so thankful to have this opportunity. Yes, it is really hot in the shop with the temp. sometimes reaching near a hundred. Yes, you get very, very dirty and at times extremely tired and exhausted. Yes, it is manual labor. BUT…where else could I just ask to work and then someone say ok? Where else could I work sometimes and then not most of the time? Not too many places! Where else could I work about a mile from home and be able to come home for a quick lunch with Mel and FH each day. Not really anywhere here. And the best part, is that he works four days a week with each weekend being a three-day one. I should be quick to say that he works here four days a week, but while I spent those three-day weekends resting or working around our house, he was working elsewhere. I'm just glad I have the chance to work there.

Our garden spot. 

    I have always been nothing less than honest here at this blog and I felt I needed to post the above pic. I had previously posted a pic of us plowing under the above spot and there were more shots of tractor harriers and rich, dark dirt. Flash forward to now and all you have is the above, except this pic is a little old and the weeds are taller. We didn't even plant one, single seed. We plowed. We waited for a bit to let things dry out and we plowed again. We bought a full bag of great seeds. And then I got super busy with school and track and Mel and FH did too. We had big dreams of a garden, but this was just not our year for it. We should have started small, but we're not that wise. We are planning a very small Fall garden. I can promise it will be planted; even if we have to do it at night. 

My people. Bae 1 and Bae 2.

FH is one of his most happiest of places. 

    At the end of July, we got to go to the beach. My very generous and kind parents gave us a week at the beach for our wedding anniversary. We really wouldn't have gotten to go if it hadn't been for that. Weeks at the beach are such a great blessing and so much fun. It is a gift my parents have been giving me for most of my life. Most folks have to get their "beach" in over a single day or a three-day weekend, but since I was about ten or so, I always gotten a chance to spend a full week at the beach. Going to the beach was fun then, and then very fun when Mel and I were dating, and even more fun when we were young and just married, but now that we have FH, it is really too much fun. Going on any trip with a young child is hard and going for a week trip will at times leave you wondering if it is really worth going at all. There is so much stuff to plan, pack, unload, carry into the hotel, remember, etc. However, the moment we see little Fordy so happy to be playing in all that sand and all that water it instantly makes all the preparation and work worth it. 

    We had a wonderful week at the beach: Ormond Beach. We ate so much seafood and other great food items. We napped. We watched movies. We played on the beach from the morning till almost nine at night. We went out to eat. We played in the resort pool until our hands looked like raisins. We built a thousand and one castles that FH knocked down. We walked on the beach at night. We got to enjoy being around family. I rode my bike on some great rides. We tried to catch a crab that bit my older brother. We ate ice cream twice! And Mel and I went out on a great date the night of our wedding anniversary. We ate hot food and only fed ourselves. We ate slowly. We talked. You know, crazy childless things. It was amazing!

This guy. 

My people. 

     We've been married for nine years now and been together for 13. It mostly feels like I am saying that wrong because it doesn't feel that long and then at times it feels longer. I am so thankful for Mel and who she is and who she has become. She has been so strong through so much. She has been so loving and caring through so much. She has never been too tired to help me or to be a good mom for Ford. I am richly, richly blessed. Our pastor preached a great sermon on marriage a few weeks ago and uttered the phrase that, "marriage continually shows us God's kindness and goodness to us". It really stuck with me. I hadn't thought of it like that before. Yes, marriage is hard. Yes, marriage at times feels impossible. Yes, there are at times so much more hard and bad things than good and beautiful. But when I think about Mel and the last nine years, all I can really see is how good, faithful, kind, and caring God has been to us and and to me through Melissa. At times, I'm an ok husband, but there have been many times when it would have been a thousand times easier for Mel to walk away from it all; especially in the last couple of years. Lesser women would have, but Mel did not. She is strong. She is so wise. She is so loving and caring. She is the wife who stops what she is doing to help me with anything, or to walk down the road, or play catch, or go on a bike ride, or most of all, just listen to my super-long and too-detailed stories of my day. She is the wife is goes without so we can afford other things. She is the mother is sacrifices daily so I can do the job I feel called to do. God has blessed me over and abundantly. I do not deserve Mel, but God gave her to me. 

    I'll end for now. We have had a great, great summer. It throttled last summer and it's not over! I began XC last Monday. I had forgotten how hot and sweaty I can get while running. It is slowly beginning to feel like the last days of summer are here, but we've still got some time left. Hope you enjoyed your summer Hope you enjoyed the post. I enjoy writing here. 

DAVID

The 30 Days of Biking Challenge

The Trek 1000 and our pond in the early morning hours on a quick ride before work.

     It is now May and this post would have been best posted near the beginning of the previous month, but it wasn't. A part of me wishes that I could be better about posting here and updating as often as I would like, but the other part of me is just thankful to get through one day at a time during this busy, busy part of the year.  I also know that the audience for this blog is super small, so not so many folks are checking here, so I really have nothing to worry about, but still I like to post and wish things were slightly different, but it is Spring and I'm a teacher and a coach, so I leave work only for these short bits of time that many would call dinner and a short nap. I'm also thankful to have run across this little challenge and glad I attempted it and made it into the saddle for even the shortest of rides during each day of this past month. In Grant Petersen's book, Just Ride, he has a little part of it titled something along the lines of there being no such thing as too little of an amount of time for a ride or no such thing as too short of a ride to be worth it and goes onto to say if all you get to do is ride five minutes each day, then that is enough. I value this kind of thinking. It seems pretty rational and very realistic, but also highly hopeful.

  

         I cannot physically or mentally name ten complete items that I find more joy in than getting on a bike and riding it. I'm sure if you follow this blog or my Instagram account you know this already. You may even think you know it too much and wish I would branch out. I also cannot fully say why being on a bike brings me so much joy. I know that may seem a little odd, like it should be a very easy answer, but just think about something that brings you joy. Is it just a simple answer of what exactly about that item or action brings you joy or does it get a little murky when you try to zero in on a single answer? If you are the type of person that is great at getting to the root of things, great. I'm not that type of person. If something brings me to some sort of emotional ending, then it's usually a heterogeneous mixture of items and I cannot plainly see the separation of where one part of the joy blends into the next or the overall joy. I hope everything you love or find joy in is like that for you.

        And being on a bike is that for me. No, it's not the thing in my life that brings me the most joy and it's not something that hasn't brought anger, or frustration, or disappointment to me. But if you can think back to when you first learned to ride, the joy that it brought you, the smile on your face, the satisfaction, the wind in your face, the joy of powering your whole body into motion, and the freedom that comes from movement then you can remember that joy and the simple wonders of it. Now think about how you felt when you got together with a few friends for a ride from one place of play to the next and all the places in the middle. Remember those feelings. Do you miss them? Well...there is some really good news. You can still do that. It's not just for kids. You, yeah you. Yes, you too. It doesn't matter if you are 8 or 88, you can jump, climb, load, crawl, etc. onto a bike and ride around the block or down your driveway and still have those same feelings. It can be any bike. It doesn't have to cost you three arms and your first born and it doesn't have to have shocks or be aerodynamic. It can be old and rusty or right off the Wal-Mart shelf. And then add a few friends who are also in the market for this type of action and you still get the same feelings or at least as physically close as you can hope.

      You may have to leave those friends who need the "grind" of a long ride where you don't talk during the ride and sit in sweaty spandex afterwards talking of cadence, pedal rotations, rpm's, racing weight, racing wear, aerodynamics, etc. while leaning on a car or truck in a parking lot in a small state of disappointment because you're just not riding how you think you should be and how the pros do. They'll be sure to ruin the moment. Now you should still race your friends to the next power pole or home. It was fun when you were a kid  and its still fun now. And you should still take your hands off the handlebars and ride with them held in the air down a hill. It feels the same as it did when you were a kid and it is just as exhilarating. If a fellow adult yells at you from a car or shakes their head from their yard, or tells you need to get serious, ride as fast as possible away from them. Those serious things are waiting for you as soon as you step off, or you are like me and ride most of the time with a little one behind you, the serious things are behind you. And as Ernest Hemingway is credited with saying that when you stop doing things for fun, you might as well be dead. I completely agree.



      And this brings us to this post. I know this challenge is over, but I still wanted to put something out about it. 30 Days of Biking is the brain child of Patrick Stephenson. He found himself where most unmarried guys find themselves soon after college and that was gaining weight, bored, wasting time on video games and caught up in the cycle of not knowing how to fill those few hours between work and being back at work again. He had a friend around that time that biked and shared the joys of biking with him and this shared joy got Patrick off the couch and into the saddle and when he heard another friend was doing a 30 day yoga challenge decided to see if he could ride his bike for same 30 day period and thus the, 30 Days of Biking, was begun with the hash tag, #30daysofbiking. His enthusiasm caught on quickly and the challenge spread throughout the country and then into the world at large pretty quickly. The first year, 2010, there were only a few and now in 2015, there are almost 10K cyclists. The two friends, Patrick S. and Zach Schaap, decided to make all this passion and enthusiasm count for more than just a mere hash tag and so they teamed up with, Free Bikes 4 Kidz, and several other sponsors who told them they would donate one bike to a kid without one for every 30 pledges to ride each day in April. This year almost 300 bikes were given away. Not too shabby since just a few years ago Patrick Stephenson was stuck on a couch playing, "Call of Duty".


      I saw this little challenge last year, but wasn't really sure what it was and it seemed a little like a scam, so I never looked into it much, but this year, I looked it up and did a little research and found out quickly that it was all on the up and up and that if I would just pledge to ride my bike each day in April, I could help donate a bike to a kid who didn't have one. What really pulled me in besides the bike donation item was this whole idea of just having to ride for a small amount of time each day. There were no mileage requirements, hour requirements, finding sponsors, etc. It was just pledge to ride and then carve out a few minutes each day and ride. That was it. And I was in.


      I pledged sometime late March and by the end of April, I had ridden a few miles short of a 150. Yes, I got in some good, longish (in my standards) rides by myself and with FH, but there were also many rides where I only had time for a super quick ride down our driveway and back. But I never felt like I was really slacking because all you were required to do was just get on your bike and ride for a little while. I will admit that I did not ride every day of April. There were five or six days were it was really rainy, stormy, or just one of those days where I had to leave home a little after 6 am and didn't get home till almost 11 pm and there just wasn't a single free second, but I did make up for those times by doubling and sometimes tripling up on other days.  The main idea was to just be able to ride for a little while each day and I did and it was always worth it no matter how short the ride was. 

     I will look forward to this challenge next April and may try to do this in other months this year as well. I really liked looking forward to the chance of getting to ride each day. It made even the busiest or hardest days seem like there was a little extra light in the day. I think all people should do this sort of thing; install something small in each day that they look forward to no matter how small it may be. You may not always get to do it, but when you do, it makes it so much better. Getting to start my day on my bike or take a quick ride before I got to read to and put FH to bed was a bright spot in each day.

    And when I think about hobbies, that is how I think they should be thought of and pursued. I know this has a slight tinge of sadness to yet, but it is wholly realistic. Yes, it'd be great and ideal if I could load up my bike and head off into the horizon and that is where I think most people leave their thinking at. It is where my thinking stayed for such a long, long time until very recently.They just sit and wish for those days, but those days don't exist. I think we often look at hobbies or those who live life solely by them and are lifted up as idols as the ones who are really out there and "living", but we forget to think about our commonplace lives and remember that, that too is living. If I were touring the world on a bike, think of all of my life that I would be missing, even the parts that seem to be pure drudgery. I think we are too quick to see what others are "getting" to do and label that as living while forgetting that we too are getting to live our lives too; that if I were in Patagonia on a bike then think about all of my current life of Mel, FH, teaching, coaching, life lessons, relationships that I would be completely missing. I would hate that. I wouldn't want that.

Happy reading and happy riding,

DAVID



A Very Happy Birthday Wish to My Dear Boy FH

*This was supposed to be posted yesterday. I'm not sure what exactly happened. I'm going to chalk it up to user error like most things in my life that go wrong. My sentiments are the same though and I still wanted to post.

Our first day back at home as a little family sitting on our porch swing. A place we would spend so much time together in the following years.

 

 

       Your birthday was yesterday. The following was supposed to be posted yesterday, but alas it wasn't. I will tell you that as we loaded the cars up to heads towards your party on Saturday, I glanced up on one of the many trips from the table to the car and saw the picture above the china cabinet of you at 18 months holding onto our hands and teared up some. I know. I know. Pull it together. Be a man and all that. But that is all a lame definition of a man. David in the Bible wept and he was a warrior. I cried a little as I woke you up and dressed you for the party and tried to take in every second as we rode in that old, crappy truck to meet your Aunt Amy, Jackson, and your Nana to ride to the party. I kept looking over as you talked about all of your things and as we talked about your coming party. There you were sitting in your seat talking to me and asking me questions; just a couple of guys talking in the front seat of a truck Except we weren't just a couple of guys talking. I was your father and you were my son. I am the father to a three your boy. You had already lived three full years of your life. And all of it made me think about all that those three years had contained and made me think about when your sweet mom was pregnant with you and when you came to us. I am pretty sure that I will feel the same when someday we are driving down the road in some other old, crappy car or truck and you are a young man and I am much older. I will still be your father and you will still be my little boy, but you will be grown and I will wonder where the time went. 

 

Pancakes and chocolate milk: the breakfast of the happiest of champions.

 

 

         And so, I'm not exactly sure what to say to you, my dear little boy. Three full years ago, I stood in a room holding onto your dear and brave mother's warm hand waiting for you to arrive. We had been in that room for hours. I was so very excited and yet, I was so very scared. I was not ready for you. I knew nothing about being a father and didn't know if I had what it took. I was so very nervous because I love your mother so very much and was not sure my heart had room to love someone else the way I love her. I was not sure if I could it all right. and then you arrived at 10:06 am and they handed you to me after I'd cut the umbilical cord and I looked at you and tried to see who you would be and wondered what I'd be and who I'd be in light of you. I will never forget those moments. I still feel as if those moments are still happening. 

In the co-pilot seat.

    And I remember those first few days and what it felt like to put that seat into the car and then take you out of your mother's hands and place you into the seat of the Subaru and then help your mother in and then go sit in the driver's seat thinking that we'd never really drive another foot as just two people, but now we'd be three and how odd it was that when you go to have a child you come with two people and leave with three. I know this sounds like the dumbest things to think about and they may be and I'm sure everyone has it figured out long before, but I never do. I remember driving back to that house with you and your mom and spending most of that ride looking in the rear view mirror checking you out and being so excited to show you your new room and hoping you'd like it.

One of the many great meetings of the Saturday morning breakfast club.

 

 

      I also remember so many things from those first few days. It is a very surreal feeling to live with someone for six full years and think that just two people can make a family, and that may be, but then have a third person suddenly come to exist, and live, and share those walls with you is a strange and wonderful thing. I remember all those many nights when you wouldn't sleep so well and cry out and you and I would sit in the swing or walk around the block in the darkness of the night and I would hold you close to me trying to tell you that everything was ok and that sleep would make you feel better. I would try to rock you on that porch swing and sing to you songs that I love so much, but never really remember the words to and now each night I lay beside you and read you little books and cannot really fathom how that little baby grew into the little boy who is next to me. So much has happened and I feel so much has changed and yet it feels like no real time has past and at times I too feel unchanged, but I know that isn't so.

 



Love sharing the breakfast counter with this guy.

I have truly never smiled so much nor laughed as hard.

 

 

       And now today, you are turning three. As I type this, I can't believe its real and many of my feelings are the same. I'm still wondering if I have what it takes because I still do not know about kids and I still don't know how to be a father. I still hold onto your dear and brave mother's warm hand and look at you and into your big brown eyes and try to see who you will be and who we will be in light of you. I'm often tempted to feel inside, but worry it is too sacreligious, that I must echo the Great God who looked down upon His Son and said, "this is my son, in whom I am well-please". I hold you and you seem to make all things better even if just for a brief moment. You bring your mother and I so much joy and happiness. I used to wonder what life would be like with you and now I often wonder how we did life without you. 

A little clowning around.

 

 

 

         So, I wish you the best of birthdays. I wish you a wonderful third year of your life. I look forward to a full year of life with you. I am sure I will be sitting here doing much of the same when you are getting ready to turn four. I love you very, very much. I am both humbled and honored to be your father. Hope you enjoy your party and enjoy the cake!



My brown-eyed boy.

 

 

Your Dad 

Our 2015 Garden-Part 1

“Odd as I am sure it will appear to some, I can think of no better form of personal involvement in the cure of the environment than that of gardening. A person who is growing a garden, if he is growing it organically, is improving a piece of the world. He is producing something to eat, which makes him somewhat independent of the grocery business, but he is also enlarging, for himself, the meaning of food and the pleasure of eating.”   --Wendell Berry, The Art of Commonplace Essays

“One of the most important resources that a garden makes available for use, is the gardener's own body. A garden gives the body the dignity of working in its own support. It is a way of rejoining the human race.” --Wendell Berry

       If you have been a follower of this blog for any length of time, you probably know that we find great pleasure in trying to grow a garden, working at growing our own food, and have tried our hand in several different ways at trying to do so. We have been very successful at times and other times, if we would have had to survive on the food we grew, we would have starved to death. Literally. We have attempted to grow food items in pots of a variety of sizes with some success and we've attempted to grow things in raised beds and we've mostly had great successes. I was always and am actually still so surprised by the amount of food one can grow in a raised bed in the smallest of yards. I often think that some people don't try to grow food for themselves because they think their location is a huge limiting factor, but that couldn't be any farther from the truth. We grew almost a year of certain food items for our little family in a little 4x8 raised bed. And in a small 4x4 bed, we grew enough herbs for over a year. I think that's amazing. 

Our garden spot before any harrowing was done. 

    And if you've been following this blog, you've probably seen more Wendell Berry than you've wanted to see.  And I feel like I've used the above quotes before, but they are too good not to use and reuse. We really love Wendell Berry. Between the both of us, we've read many of Berry's essays, poems, and novels. I'd easily say that in my highly under-read opinion, he is one of the greatest and most important writers of the last fifty or so years. And between Mr. Berry and John Seymour, of England, I am very tempted to unplugged from much of modern society and attempt to become as self-sufficient as we can be here at Otter Creek Farm, but don't worry, we're not there yet. We'll settle for a small garden spot, a few cows, and several chickens for now. 

The harrow plow doing it's thing. The soil turned out to be much darker and healthier than we'd anticipated, so we're all pretty excited to see what it can grow. 

    One of the many benefits from our move to South Georgia was it would provide us with the chance to try our little hands at farming. We have loved our little escapades into urban farming with our four chickens, may they rest in peace, and our raised bed garden spot that grew a little larger each year. Last year, we didn't have much of a chance or desire to grow much of anything. We were in survival mode and the fact that we're all still living, Ford is about to turn three, Mel and I are still married and loving each other, and we are all talking, existing, laughing, and moving forward is the very picture of God's goodness,  great mercy,  abundant faithfulness, and grace towards and for us. BUT…we are far from that point and we are itching to get our hands dirty and we are already talking about how good our meals are going to be this summer when whatever we plant comes in. 

The finished spot. We still need to go through it one more complete time and then it'll be ready for planting. 

   So, about a week and a half ago, when Mel's dad offered to bring his Case tractor over and help us plow up this year's garden spot, we jumped at the chance. We were planning on starting off small, but after the final run was made with the tractor and plow, our "small" garden spot turned out to be big enough to grow food for several families. He came over and FH and I jumped on and we all made the initial several rows with the tractor, but then after about twenty minutes, he and FH got off and he turned it over to me. I will only say, he made driving and plowing or harrowing up the ground look very, very easy and it is far from that. I had the poor tractor up on two wheels several times and had smoke coming from the exhaust a few times, and did not do that great of an overall job, but I am learning. Slowly. Just remember and know that when you drive by a guy/girl on a tractor and they look like they have it all under control, that you're looking at a highly skilled person in complete control of their work. If you could ever see me drive, then you'd see the opposite. 

There is something inherently peaceful and beautiful about driving a tractor and plowing through a piece of land. The dirt smells so good and when you plow up the dirt, you can see all the colors of the dirt and how they contrast with the grass or weeds that once grew above it. I know that sounds odd, but it is true. 

   We have yet to plant anything and actually we still need to run through the garden one more complete time with the harrow plow to sift through the soil. We are waiting till the ground dries out a little more, but we'll probably do that within the next several days. And then we'll start planting the items we've agreed upon. I know we're going to plant tomatoes, green peppers, squash, zucchini, several types of flowers, onions, potatoes, and maybe some corn. We also have a lot of herbs in mind, but we may need to plant them elsewhere because most herbs need a spot where they get some sun rather than full sun, but we'll see. We have the room for probably 20+ rows of different things. I had originally thought we'd have a 50x50 garden, but what we plowed under is more like a 200x100 foot spot. I'm not sure how much we'll plant or if we'll actually use the whole space, but we'll see. A garden, no matter how small, is a lot of work. It requires you to do something each day and a garden this size is going to be a lot of work. It'll be worth it, but I also don't want it to get out of hand. And I don't want to waste anything that we'll have planted.

     

It turned into something much larger than I'd originally planned, but I believe it is going make a very fine garden spot. 

    I'll close for now and we'll keep you updated on our garden. We have a lot plans for our life here at Otter Creek Farm. We love knowing where our food comes from and we love the whole farm to table movement that is slowly becoming quite known. Before we left Macon and before we decided to move to Fitzgerald, we almost accepted a position to help start a farm that would supply several summer camps with fresh food in Northern Alabama, but felt God wanted us here and we hope to take full advantage of this place and our time here. We have little Pecos the Bull and we may soon sell him in order to get a cow to start breeding. We also have a large chicken tractor in the works, mental for now, for us to start a pastured poultry business in the future. And now we have this garden going. It all takes time and it all takes a lot of work and money, but it is well worth it. You always get more from it than you put into it. Or at least that's what it seems like to me. 

Happy reading, farming, tractor driving, and hopefully good eating, 

DAVID

PS: Let us know if you want to get in on this garden. We could grow you something and then sell it to you later!