Let's get a divorce.

Divorce is a world of suck best avoided. 

Divorce is a muddled muttered mantra of repeated regret.  

Divorce is a long dark lonely road to nowhere, inevitably heading somewhere, albeit only god-knows-where. 

Divorce is an explosion, one of such great magnitude that it must, of necessity, result in the complete and singular destruction of all-things, leaving behind only charred remnants and thoroughly annihilated particles.^*

* These particles, it is hoped, will, if given enough time, one day coalesce into some new format, fused under duress into a thing radically regenerated and fundamentally evolved. 

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

Let's go to France!

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

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

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

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Just about a bike: Specialized S-Works CX

Select any image to embiggen

A 2000 Specialized S-Works CX popped up on our local Craigslist the other day.  As pictured in the ad, the bike appeared to be rather cobbled together. Bikes of this vintage often are. Nevertheless it also looked like it had really good bones: bright mostly-intact paint and, according to the seller, some really good shit in a box, too. Turns out he still had the entire original XTR-M950 group, and the "missing" right-hand Ultegra integrated brake/shift lever, the original seat, everything in fact, except for the stock rear wheel with its bespoke S-Works hub. Definitely some significant resto/refurb potential!

During our first salvo of correspondence the seller told me he'd had the bike shelved in his garage for several years and now needed the space for other things (a tale as old as time). The seller also told me he had inherited it from a neighbor some years ago and had converted it to 11-speed recently, but that he was willing to include the contents of the old parts box in the deal if I would be willing to return the newer 11-speed parts to him once I'd removed them from the bike. Of course! Duh.

So, I arranged to meet him in a corner of one of the parking lots at the hospital, cash in hand.  Took me 2 minutes to eyeball the rig and shake the seller's hand, "I'll take it."  And that's how deals like this get done.

Let's use a heart-rate monitor!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just about a bike: Monē SB2 Klunker [UPDATED]

3.3:1 gain ratio, 45.6 gear inches

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

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

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

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

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

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