How food controls my world. I love it, it loves me and lucky for me metabolism of the young keeps thee skinny. Thanksgiving is such a great holiday, just eat and drink then binge on pie. Hurray!
This years bird day went down smooth enough but not without some general shinaniganry. Rebecca was up at crack of dawn getting her space in the kitchen all dialed. I was then up early to pack the goods to go to mommas house and then to carry on further north after the feast to a second friday thanksgiving in washington. Things were running smoothly, rebecca wrapped up the cooking and hit the road early to help out her mom. Myself and the roommates were ploding around and still packing to hit the road. We were packed and ready to go, with plenty of time to get to the feed early enough to socialize and mingle with the fam. Only problem is when I roll, I roll in a car older than me. The old diesel Selma was having a crabby holiday. Old Selma is a sweet 82 Datsun maxima thats been converted to run on Wasted Veggie oil. Selma was giving us some grief and would not fire up. So a couple hours of sweating it, pulling shit apart and a massive jump start and we were down to the wire to make it to the feed on time. Suddenly my good family points were disappearing by the second, but somehow we got there before hot food was on the table, few!
So after the stress factor was wiped away I gorged on some great grub with some hilarious folks. Then we commenced to eat pie and play music for a couple hours. It was perfect. But the night was only young, so my 1 roomate Amac and I hit the road and got the old grease wagon going north. Running on waste we hauled all the way to little tiny almost not on the map Glacier WA.
Glacier WA is not anywhere you really want to live, unless skiing at mt baker runs in your blood. Fortunately all my friends have pow skiing in their blood. So for thanksgiving number 2 there was a huge helping of powder skiing, good grub, and some time on the trainer. It was perfect. Some how all my mates were in town up there, it dumped a foot of snow, and there was enough abundace to last for the next day too. So Saturday we packed lunches of left overs, the clouds cleared and another foot of snow awaited. Touring in the deep snow was in order so some pretty epic trail breaking went up, then some even more epic skiing went down. Then there was more trainer time. Oh the joys of too many hobbies.
With the pow skiing fix quenched, Amac and I returned to the home land. This week has been rather uneventful. Some time spent in the garden, collecting wasted veggie oil from the chinese place down the street, filter the said oil, and a bit of work to the chicken coop. Sprinkle all that with the last bits of training for these next 2 weekends and bam now I’m in portland.
I’ve spent the last couple days with the bike race millionaires club of G Wolff, James, Kabush, and Dusty. We’ve been eating good grub, sipping portland high end coffee and discussing the merits of killing hipsters, only to discover the potentially more dangerous yupster. Those whose coffee is worth more than their t-shirt and whose pants cost more than an I-pod. Hurray american consumerism and the corporate ladder.