I’m packing my things this morning.  Last weekend, my housemate and landlord informed me that she needed to live alone, and that I was welcome to take the time to find a place I would be happy living in.  I’m grateful for having had this place to land, and feel confident that I can find something that works just as well, if not better, for my needs.  I swear Craigslist has mystical powers in that regard.

Packing in a way feels good.  My heart opens to adventure, my life feels smaller and more compact again, and I have the opportunity to strip away the unnecessary.  I don’t know yet where I will land, my criteria includes cool people and good energy, which doesn’t seem hard to find in this town.

The south hills are full of really awful McMansions, but I can't argue with the view...

I got fired up yesterday, clear skies and a new freehub on my bike reminded me that I didn’t ride 1,000km across Colombia last year because I dislike spending time in the saddle.  Maybe I don’t really own skinny tires any more (I sold my old roadbike for cash to travel with), but that doesn’t mean I can’t get out and race the touring bike I have.  My legs were fresh and excited to spin.  Cycling is an adventure from the moment you leave your house until the moment you get back- and has all of my favorite elements: being outside, hard physical effort, and seeing the world on a human powered level.  I rode Pattee Canyon until I hit snow, then bombed down to find the next steepest climb over the South Hills, and then again despite a headwind- dug deep for a third climb on the next road west.

Roads around town are NOT yet all clear.

It felt good to get out and spin, but the frigid wind was a reminder that it is only very early spring here, and I’ve got lots of work to do to find the best places to ride.  And I really miss my titanium road bike.  We’ll see what the summer brings.