<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818</id><updated>2011-04-22T00:12:11.461-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nail, hammer, wheel, derailleur</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-2900906851394189287</id><published>2008-07-29T16:58:00.018-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T18:32:47.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You know what that reminds me of? Bike&amp;Build.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-V52H2J4I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Zl8XF9KaIyM/s1600-h/Bike%26build+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-V52H2J4I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Zl8XF9KaIyM/s200/Bike%26build+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562513413941122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow. Bike &amp;amp; build is actually ove&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;r. The tragedy of finishing this blog in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hindsight might &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;be tough. Anyone who has been around me the past few days could probably te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ll you that it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; annoying. Anything, without warning, can cause a sudden relapse of b&amp;amp;b story telling. Like, “Oh, Claire, could&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; you pass me that spoon?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  “Huh what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; (awakening from a day dream about bike and build) You know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; we didn’t h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ave enoug&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;h spoons when&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; we were on bike and build. We had to use forks”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   “Oh really? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(poor person feigning interest, as really they just&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;want the spoon in my hand)”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Or even&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“ Wow, the sky is blue today”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Yea, when we were on bike and build, the sky was blue too.” Sigh, then look off into the distance.&lt;br /&gt;It is that bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cortez, CO: The ride into Cortez was really relaxing, 48 miles. No worries. Lunch was severely extended beyond our usual 15-30 minutes. Poor Scott Wilkins. He is alw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ays so ready to go. I swear, every lun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;chtime we would ask me “Are you ready? Are you ready to go? I thin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;k we are going.”   “yea, yea I’m ready”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That would be lie. I would always still have a handful of carrots, chips, and/or pretzels as I would walk around to find everyone else essentially already clipped in on the road. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; would still need to fill up my water bottles and also find my helmet. Really, ask anyone, it is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;true without fail, most every time we stopped for lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  Apologies, Scott, once again. I think we stayed at lunch for and hour and half&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;. I saw him for awhile at the picnic &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;table with his he&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;lmet on probably anxiously rapping his fingers or wrin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ging his hands, but I think he gave up since I was laying in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a sunbeam with helme&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;t likely no where in sight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also during lunch a couple people suggested biking up to Mesa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Verde. What is mesa verde? Green.. something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Mesa.. what?  Nah. I don’t want to go. Sounds lame. An extra 40 miles too? Guh. Gross no way. I am in a sunbeam, I am not biking an extra 40 miles. Get away from me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tragic.&lt;br /&gt;Later down the roa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;d we went to a tourist shop type place, and actually saw what Mesa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Verde was on a postcard. Ah! Regrets. http://www.nps.gov/meve/     It looks awesome. I w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ould have gone if I had actually&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; known what it was. It is ancient Indian ruins, not “some green thing”  My only consolation for the rest of the day is that I am sure I will bike Colorado again, so I will just see it then. Again tragic.&lt;br /&gt;But my spirits were buoyed with the arrival the Cole-alitio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;n t-shirts. Again, Special thanks to Daven Quinn in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-HAimokiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gS1M9hAJGfw/s1600-h/Bike%26build+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-HAimokiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gS1M9hAJGfw/s200/Bike%26build+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228546135759032866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;charge of design and Dave Getchel who headed up execution (order and payment)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;. Th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ese shirts are amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  The idea was given to us by Scott Wilkin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;s’ Dad back in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Winston-Salem to manifest our love for Cole Emdee in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; wearable for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;m. The “reveal” was the best part. We all hid the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;m under an additional layer until the perfect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; moment. Cole’s reaction was priceless. If everyone had been wearing your face, you would have react&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ed about the same way. It was awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Emily and Travis. Emily showing off the Cole Shirt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ARIZONA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-HffBediI/AAAAAAAAAHY/hg3tHPrbRrA/s1600-h/Bike%26build+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-HffBediI/AAAAAAAAAHY/hg3tHPrbRrA/s200/Bike%26build+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228546667373819426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Red Mesa:     4 corners. 4 states meet. Yep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Following this was deluge of state signs. Bike and builders get really excited about states signs. We bike a whole state: we want a picture with that sign. Anyone on who frequents facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; enough could tell you it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; is one of the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; only things that we really truly love, documenting ourselves crossing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; statelines. We then also judge each state accordingly by its sign’s size, or animation quality and color, then compare and co&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ntrast in hindsight. “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; you remember Colorado’s sign?” “ Yea!! Awesome. But remember&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Kansas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Kind of small right?”   Keep in mind, not state comparison, only their signs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-LMhhBsmI/AAAAAAAAAII/eCSqDCMy8p0/s1600-h/Bike%26build+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-LMhhBsmI/AAAAAAAAAII/eCSqDCMy8p0/s200/Bike%26build+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228550739672019554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-LNJaRgOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/LHyKA9mbIws/s1600-h/Bike%26build+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-LNJaRgOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/LHyKA9mbIws/s200/Bike%26build+030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228550750381113570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ieb2HBTI/AAAAAAAAAHg/5LHB9YzkWKY/s1600-h/Bike%26build+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ieb2HBTI/AAAAAAAAAHg/5LHB9YzkWKY/s200/Bike%26build+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228547748852598066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Here the excitement i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;s obviously contrived. If you had heard the conversation before the picture it was only sadness about the lack of various colors, the “Welcome” phrase indicative of particular state, the size… all disappointing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ie7z-XhI/AAAAAAAAAHo/cuFRqdRAz8w/s1600-h/Bike%26build+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ie7z-XhI/AAAAAAAAAHo/cuFRqdRAz8w/s200/Bike%26build+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228547757433576978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;50 yards later. Yea! “ Welcome to the Grand Canyon State”  That is what we want. Additional comments could be made like: could be a little bigger, also a little lower. Why doesn’t the department of transportation have cross country bikers in mind when they set these things up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-KLAGRlrI/AAAAAAAAAIA/KXxKhp6BJz8/s1600-h/arkansas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-KLAGRlrI/AAAAAAAAAIA/KXxKhp6BJz8/s200/arkansas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228549614009947826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;While I am on topic, let’s just bring up Arkansas one more time. So far fr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;om the road, so small and very few colors used and not to mention poor D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;an Thomas is going to get his arm chopped by a passing semi. Unacceptable, Arkansas Dept. of Trans, unacceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we stayed at Red Mesa High School. It was really in a vast expanse of nothing. It was more like a compound and could &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;probably survive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; as its own entity. The only other bu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ilding was a hospital down the street. The school was surrounded by barb wire and had a sort of neighborhood fenced &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;in with it. That night we had Chicken rice. I don’t really know ho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;w dinner crew that night made it. I actually heard that the preparation &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;process was mildly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; unappetizing, but it was so delicious. It was just chicken an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;d rice brought together in a sort of unidentifiable paste.. but man oh man it was good. A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;rguably the best B&amp;amp;B prepared meal of the trip. The rest of daylight hours were spent sort of walking around the abandoned school. The place was kind of eerie at the dusk hours. Many a zombie movie plot line was developed during this time—most of them usually involving 30 bikers in the desert. Hmm yea, very original, guys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayenta: This is the day that Barrel teams were announced. Barr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;el was the secret code name given to the scavenger hunt to oc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;cur a few days later. The team named themselves: Silver Snakes, Daus M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;anschaft, and SparkYl, and then each team all decided to ride together to “practice.” Fun! I was on team SparkYl. Something happened to Team SparkYl that day. I am not going into the details, but we sort of garnered the reputation of being somewh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;at dysfunctional. That is really all that will be said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Later that afternoon we went on a Monument Valley Tour. The rocks were cool, but I would have to say that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the high&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;light of the trip was 60mph windowless bus ride to the park. Lots of tears and squinting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-MSRipqKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/ct39DjLAvkQ/s1600-h/Bike%26build+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-MSRipqKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/ct39DjLAvkQ/s200/Bike%26build+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228551937974708386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Michelle loves squinting and pointing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-MSyJKCcI/AAAAAAAAAIg/hoR8dtdPQeY/s1600-h/Bike%26build+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-MSyJKCcI/AAAAAAAAAIg/hoR8dtdPQeY/s200/Bike%26build+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228551946726148546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Is Daniel pointing out the rocks or the duct tape? Not quite sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-MTCwnB_I/AAAAAAAAAIo/KrmQN0Q3C3A/s1600-h/Bike%26build+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-MTCwnB_I/AAAAAAAAAIo/KrmQN0Q3C3A/s200/Bike%26build+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228551951186593778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Emily stylish yet functional or perhaps neither. Probably neither.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-NjfRuMaI/AAAAAAAAAI4/4Y20gEVG1QI/s1600-h/Bike%26build+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-NjfRuMaI/AAAAAAAAAI4/4Y20gEVG1QI/s200/Bike%26build+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228553333231202722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I have a similar picture where Emily’s terror eyes are not in the shot. But where is the fun in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ni76IfvI/AAAAAAAAAIw/sFohSyRdpzk/s1600-h/Bike%26build+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ni76IfvI/AAAAAAAAAIw/sFohSyRdpzk/s200/Bike%26build+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228553323737022194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tuba City: We went really fast. Dan O., David, Scott S., Scott W., Michelle and I went really fast. During lunch we smashed some pennies on the railroad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; tracks. Then Scott bought Michelle and m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;e some ice cream at the end. Yea! Scott! Also the Assembly Church of God was really hospitable. Peggy just let&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; us in her house to take showers (we are kind of gross and smell, if we touch your furniture it will also likely smell. It meant a lot).  We also sat around the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; glowing box of entertainment…yes… tv. So magical. We would switch off watching World’s Strongest Man Contest on ESPN while waiting for the shower. I have never been so in engrossed in a program.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grand Canyon: Swaroop and I were sweep. All documented in journal. Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Prescott: Barrel Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it is not obvious, SparkYl was able to pull it together and really came thro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ugh in the competition. We had the best costumes by far. Thank &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;you Emily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-O6d-flII/AAAAAAAAAJA/0J5rOUIbSnE/s1600-h/Bike%26build+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-O6d-flII/AAAAAAAAAJA/0J5rOUIbSnE/s200/Bike%26build+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228554827530736770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-O67W5_DI/AAAAAAAAAJI/cYnl7DZdjys/s1600-h/Bike%26build+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-O67W5_DI/AAAAAAAAAJI/cYnl7DZdjys/s200/Bike%26build+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228554835417758770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-O7IvXs3I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/0IrgVJiGXcQ/s1600-h/Bike%26build+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-O7IvXs3I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/0IrgVJiGXcQ/s200/Bike%26build+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228554839010030450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of the day, Daniel had become quite ill. So Michelle, Scott and I rode the rest of the day without our fourth. It was quite sad. We got back downed a few chocolate milks at the Safeway and then made Daniel a get well package. It included a delicious Big 100 bar. He loves those. It healed him instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prescott build day: We moved rocks, it is called Landscaping. Lots and lots of rocks, large heavy rocks. I got a lot of “ Hey Claire, youre a geologist. Why aren’t you having an awesome time? Ahahaha”  “ ah ha, good one, guys…yep. Love movin rocks.. ya got me.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In the afternoons, Michelle, Scott and Hannah and I would take breaks inside the drainage tube. It was amazing and about 20 degrees cooler. I must say though some people spent more time in the tube then others (coughannah). Also at one point Hannah and I were in the tube and I heard her coax a baby spider on a small stone. A brief excerpt of Hannah’s interaction with the spider:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Oh! A spider” (surprised)&lt;br /&gt;“Aw, come here little guy” (cutsy voice gently scooping it onto a small stone)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts: Wow, Hannah just loves nature. She is just there, ya know? She really gets what is it all about. I really admire her. If only we all could just…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts are then interrupted by Hannah chucking the rock as hard and as far as she can down the tube.&lt;br /&gt;Let us all reflect in moment of silence for the life lost.&lt;br /&gt;. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I don’t explain the behavior of our riders, I just report the facts. It was pretty hot that day, but that is all I can give her as an excuse. Oh and that we were also at a pretty high altitude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Altitude sickness, Hannah? Hmm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wickenburg:  I am really dependent on my journal for whatever I wrote that day in order to write this. I must have been really tired because it is in list form. It says: We went uphill, then downhill. Followed by a list of drinks we bought at the gas station: Mountain Dew, Chocolate milk, Frappuccino, and Gatorade. Then: I went swimming with David, Ben, and Devon. We ate vegetarian lasagna like water polo at the Mul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;lin’s house. Sleep.&lt;br /&gt;That is all. Pretty sad actually. But I am pretty sure the lasagna was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wenden: The ride went by really fast. Michelle, Scott, Daniel T., and I sensing that the end was near decided to pass the time by exchanging life stories. They were all quite interesting and engaging, but usually all ended with “ So, yes, here I am today riding my bike to Wenden, AZ” or some variati&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;on thereof.  Another highlight would be passing through Gladden, AZ. It was one building --an RV park/apartment complex (which did have vacancies if anyone is interested) with lot of rusted abandoned cars next to i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;t. We passed the “Entering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gladden” sign. And about 70yds off was another sign facing the other direction. “I bet that is the “Leaving Gladden” sign,” astutely noted Scott. Yep. He was right. It was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;We got to Wenden really early, so we arrange Girl Talk: the Sequel to occur at the diner across the railroad tracks/road (one of only 6 building in the town). Lots of giggling, things of that sort, but no details can be given due to the highly secret nature of the event. I heard that some of the guys tried to retaliate and have Man Talk. I think they discussed cars and breakfast cereals. Not really sure on that because as it turns out nobody cared.  Then the rest of the day I wrote the last blog post. Hours… so nothing else could be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;CALIFORNIA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blythe: Rain. Oh why cruel world? Why is it raining in the desert? Stepping outside the door of the gy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;m in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;darkness of the morning, it was a torrential downpour. Sheets of water coming down.      Take two steps further out from under the awning—not raining.  So all the rain collecting on the roof seemed to drain onto one spot on the awning over the gym giving the appearance of rain, lots of rain, when in fact not really raining at all. I don’t how many people actually knew this and were pretending not to know or who really thought it was raining a lot, but everyone just laid on the floor for a good while before anyone actually had the gumption to get up and ride their bike. I wasn’t too pumped about the beginning of the end (aka California) either, so I don’t pass judgement on anyone.&lt;br /&gt;We took the interstate essentially the whole way, which is always good for the tires. We stopped to change Daniel’s flat, and he had 4 staples in back and about three in the front. Then we wondered… Where do these staples come from? They had been plaguing everyone the entire tr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ip. Why are there so many staples on the road anyway? We imagined possibly some kind of cartoon car race that went through that area in which the staples were dispersed either by hand or the push of a button from a sinister darkly clad gentlemen likely sporting a curled, waxed tipped mustache. Conniving laughter ensues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Later it was explained, “No, you idiots, (insult not explicitly stated but understood) it is from the steel wiring in the truck tires.”  Hmm. That seems like a plausible explanation, but still have my doubts.&lt;br /&gt;Then 25 pictures were taken at the California state sign. We love state signs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RnjizsyI/AAAAAAAAAJY/FiYlYIWPV1c/s1600-h/Bike%26build+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RnjizsyI/AAAAAAAAAJY/FiYlYIWPV1c/s200/Bike%26build+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228557801142596386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Yea Mixed Emotions!!”   thank you Scott.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived too early to our host site and were instructed to make ourselves scarce for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; at least another hour and a half. Doing what we do best, let’s go eat something. Feeling adventurous, I decided to order something NEW!! On the Taco Bell Dollar menu. The Big Taste Taco? Who could resist? I am not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;quite sure what gives it such a big taste, but it sure took a long time.  The rest of my companions were dining on there delicous taco selection, while I stood and every once in a while a taco bell employee would inform me that my delicious big taste taco would soon be ready. So for $1.07 in addition to my delicious big taste taco (thousand island dressing…I am pretty sure now that that is what created “the big taste”) I also received a delightful Mango Strawberry Fruitista beverage and Carmel Apple Empanada (?) (Taco Bell’s answer to the McDonald’s apple pie). Thanks Taco Bell!&lt;br /&gt;The final highlights of the night were torturing Brandon. And listening to Scott’s Bike and Build Rap Love Ballad Part Deuce. Delightful yet so saddening. I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Brawley: Stepping outside at 4:45am to pack the trailer… so hot. It was dark, but so &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hot. That should give some indication of the temperatures for the rest of the day. Apparently Ari&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;zona wasn’t hot, California is. Wow. But the thing about the heat is that as long as you keep biking, there is slight breeze and you are still able to function. Good things we don’t ever stop… Michelle, flat at mile 0.7… Scott W. mile 10… water break at gas station… Dan. C. flat shortly after… my flat about ¼ mile from first lunch. Awesome fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also since we passed the stateline there were an absurb amount of butterflies, usually dead or dying. At first you are enchanted since it is kind of beautiful but also a little saddened by the loss of their delicate lives. But after a while you get really desensitized to it and just stop caring altogether and also stop trying to dodge them on the road. One flew into Dan C. eye, after which he proceeded to try to hit and kill them. For shame, Dan Carmody.&lt;br /&gt;Besides the intense amount of heat rotting out your brain the next best highlight was Glamis, CA at t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;he base of the Imperial Dunes. Population: 7, and one exceptionally kind store clerk. He really enjoyed our presence in his store. Hmm. Yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RoeOVU7I/AAAAAAAAAJo/ElOl2VczHz0/s1600-h/Bike%26build+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RoeOVU7I/AAAAAAAAAJo/ElOl2VczHz0/s200/Bike%26build+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228557816894411698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RoIYWt3I/AAAAAAAAAJg/5HN82pIWA6A/s1600-h/Bike%26build+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RoIYWt3I/AAAAAAAAAJg/5HN82pIWA6A/s200/Bike%26build+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228557811030865778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The van, and Dan Carmody with a little insanity outlet dune running&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julian: Brawley to Julian is a desert. It was hot. A couple of times as lunchtime should have been approaching I some white square objects (the van, of course) in the distance, would lose concentration and then only at about 50 yards away would realize that is was just white signs. It usually just said something unimportant like “Live Mines, Keep Out” or “Bomb testing, Stay Clear.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We fixed Scott’s flat in the only shade for the rest of the ride.  I was concerning myself with other things behind a bush further down the road when I heard a gunshot. I assumed though that is was probably not a gunshot since there was not likely any hunting going on. Nothing living, nothing to shoot, logical. It was actually Daniel and Scott listening to the sound of Scott’s exploding tire. I rush bac&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;k up. The conversation was something like “ Guys ! guys!  Are you ok?” no response. “Can you hear me?”&lt;br /&gt;“ whhaaaat?    Huh No.”&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how long they lived in there silent, ringing world, but they later told me about 3 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;We had a water stop and shortly after I had a rear tire explosion. Perhaps should have been changed earlier. Oops.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ro0pZGMI/AAAAAAAAAJw/3D-9hSx63YI/s1600-h/Bike%26build+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-Ro0pZGMI/AAAAAAAAAJw/3D-9hSx63YI/s200/Bike%26build+025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228557822913484994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Scott got a flat front tire. At this point we have run out of tubes and must resort to patching or flagging down other riders on the road. Always a sad state to be in. We did make it though until “THE WALL”   A ridiculous cruel joke created by the State of California’s road construction. The actual grade of this road is unknown but it was ¼ mile let’ just say, slightly less than 90 degrees. Scott took his hollow boned self quickly up the top and left Daniel and I in the dust. We tried our best to catch him, but tragedy befalls us o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nce again with Daniel’s flat. No tubes, only choice is to patch. We are both pretty anti-patch on a day to day basis and are therefore pretty inexperienced at putting them on.&lt;br /&gt;In the course of one hour:&lt;br /&gt;First patch, tire back on, pump it up, no deal&lt;br /&gt;Second patch, much more carefully, meticulous even, pump up before tire. No deal.&lt;br /&gt;Deep breaths, no anger, put on “slow leaking tube” from previous flat days earlier.&lt;br /&gt;Sweep (Michelle and Cole) catch us. Laugh/pity us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ride about one mile up the mountain. Flat.&lt;br /&gt;Angela generously supplies a flawlessly patched tube from Dave Getchel that survives the rest of the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was so generously prepared by Becky, Renee and Maura trying to finish up anything that we had left in the food bins. So what do you eat for dinner when your mom is not around. Pancakes and Ice Cream!! Hooray!  There was also eggs and bacon, but I really just stuck to pancakes and ice cream since I would have to start practicing self control in the next 2 days. Self control being not eating brownies for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RpMXjr7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/YtY6BcA6TOw/s1600-h/Bike%26build+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-RpMXjr7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/YtY6BcA6TOw/s200/Bike%26build+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228557829281132466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;El Cajon: I readied my self for some serious trip ending depression, but the ride was so fantastic that I didn’t really have time to be sad. Thanks Ben! He mapped us out a fantastic climb, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;which was really easy considering all the air that was around. It had been so long since we had climbed at close to sea level. So great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We met Michelle’s parents at the end of the ride. They proceeded check tan lines and thigh firmness on Michelle. It was fantastic, and then they took us to lunch. Turkey Avocado Sandwich mmmm. Real food. A lot food too. Full? Nope. We then engaged them in conversation about really interesting things like: Food (namely Clif bars, powerbars, odwalla bars—pros, cons, flavors, favorites), brands of tires, the amount food we like to eat, tubes patching vs. non patching, and then finally general topics concerning food. They were fascinated.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of food, Hannah, an El Cajon native treated us all to ridiculous amount of frozen yogurt at the yogurt mill. We rode our bikes over after dinner. I decided to take a break from my clipless shoes and just wear my tennis shoes on the bike.   Don’t do this. It won’t be fun. At . all. Just don’t. That is my advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Jolla:&lt;br /&gt;Only the highlights--&lt;br /&gt;Reaching the ocean and being with friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;Scott, Michelle, Daniel group hug&lt;br /&gt;Panang Curry and Mangoes and sticky rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-V5IKuBsI/AAAAAAAAAKA/5XFyriIif7c/s1600-h/Bike%26build+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-V5IKuBsI/AAAAAAAAAKA/5XFyriIif7c/s200/Bike%26build+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562501077960386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-V5r5dvRI/AAAAAAAAAKI/Vjn7Dxaiar0/s1600-h/Bike%26build+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-V5r5dvRI/AAAAAAAAAKI/Vjn7Dxaiar0/s200/Bike%26build+028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562510669266194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to all my sponsors. Thanks to Bryan, Za, Steve, Mandiecoffin,John, Angel, Lindsay, Sylvia, Cat, Laura N., Katie, Katherine, Bridget, Laura, Gia and Jeff. You guys are awesome. Hands down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Webb: phone needed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-2900906851394189287?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/2900906851394189287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=2900906851394189287' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/2900906851394189287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/2900906851394189287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/07/you-know-what-that-reminds-me-of-bike.html' title='You know what that reminds me of? Bike&amp;Build.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SI-V52H2J4I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Zl8XF9KaIyM/s72-c/Bike%26build+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-6329461898944621011</id><published>2008-07-19T17:59:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T12:07:58.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Leasing is not the same as owning, sorry.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I think I can only reasonably update Colorado considering the amount of uncessary detail I put into each post. Best of luck. Sorry to those of you still reading chapters from the last one. Also Dad informed me that he also read that last one. So thanks to mom and dad for the dedication.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;COLORADO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lamar: The first part of Colorado was a lot like Kansas. Hannah swears that after immediately crossing the state line it began to smell better. Really, Hannah? Really now. At the end of the day was a stop for Mexican with free ice cream, but after that it got really hot. I think we perhaps suffered some effects from the heat of that day. We had to walk to the showers that afternoon, and I don't quite remember the circumstance but Scott W., Michelle, Dan C. and I developed some "insanity outlet words." Again, it is difficult to explain to anyone on the outside but to the Wilkins, Williamson, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Carmody&lt;/span&gt; families: If your son or daughter continues to use these words said in a light airy high pitched tone up to 2 weeks after the end of this trip, please seek psychiatric counsel--- "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Luuuunchtiiime&lt;/span&gt;" " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Iiiice&lt;/span&gt; cream" " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Chaaaaarlie&lt;/span&gt;" " Gym-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;usium&lt;/span&gt;" (pronounced "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jim&lt;/span&gt;-yum" I am aware this is not phonetic, that is why it is all that much more disturbing) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Rocky Ford: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Maura, what town are we in today?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Huh? what? oh, Rock Forest" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Are you sure?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;" uh... yea yea, that's it" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The ride was again hot and dry. Lunch was at a delightful spot under some trees and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pinic&lt;/span&gt; tables next to a state correctional facility. Why would there be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;pinic&lt;/span&gt; tables here? No one is quite sure, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Later in the afternoon, Hannah started having headache and trouble breathing. Her only conclusion and diagnosis of these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;symtoms&lt;/span&gt;: Altitude sickness. I only mention this because I have continued to make fun of her almost everyday since this point considering we were at about 3000 ft above sea level. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We ate a delicious dinner and then began preparing for our 124 mile day. I think the word "preparation" would be an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;understatment&lt;/span&gt; perhaps. I blame Dan Oates for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;psyching&lt;/span&gt; me out so much. We were doing 24 miles (about hour to hour and half more riding... so not all that much) then we normally do so I naturally packed about 4 additional &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Clif&lt;/span&gt; Bars, a bag of sunflower seeds, and an emergency peanut butter and jelly. In addition, I of course had to do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;prehydration&lt;/span&gt;: 3 cups of tea at dinner (a diuretic--smart) with and 24 oz water, followed immediately by 24oz &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;gatorade&lt;/span&gt;. Most could realize that the body can't hold this much fluid. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; later on that night as well, about 4 times. We also needed to get to sleep early so we all tucked into our sleeping bags by 9pm sharp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Claire, could you turn off the lights?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Sure, guys"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I go to the switch. It turns on a lamp. Oh, I guess not that one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The next 45 minutes (yes 45) was spent with us scouring the church trying to find light switches to turn off the lights. We found some on the ceiling (yes, I know, why.) that took care of some of the hallways but no switches were found controlling any of the main rooms. Tension was high. And I think a call was finally made to the pastor at a quarter to ten. I never heard the conversation, but I can imagine trying to make the 30 of us not sound like a bunch idiots to be quite difficult. Something " oh hi, we are the bikers in your church... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;umm&lt;/span&gt;... how do you turn off the lights?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fuse box. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Colorado Springs: We had 4:15am wake up time. It really wasn't that hard since I was up 1am, 2am, and 3am. Again, I blame Dan Oates. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Prehydration&lt;/span&gt; is key to a good ride the next day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Becky and I played I-Spy until lunch. I of course bested her in several rounds with such clever objects as Renee's hairband, and the pink writing on the back of her own helmet.. boo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;hahahha&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;She cheated and had such &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-clever and unoriginal objects like the white line on the road. Lame, Becky, lame. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then... mountains. They were just there. We had been on the flats so long I had forgotten. Here is where I feel like trying to write about what we saw is going to be just really boring. Because really now, how do you describe a beautiful mountain? You just don't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So we descended into a gorgeous red rock valley at 35 mph with a lightening storm on our left and clear skies on our right. It was fantastic. We then rode through the storm into Colorado Springs and made it through the city. We arrived exhausted, but it was possibly one of the best days of the trip. I can't describe it any further then it was awesome and riding with everyone is also awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Colorado Springs build day/day off: Here is when I updated my blog last time. If you'll notice the length and divide it by my average wpm, you'll realized I had little time to do anything else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Buena&lt;/span&gt; Vista: So previously, when I mentioned I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; do anything those two days in Colorado Springs, apparently that also included eating. Well, I did eat, but normal eating and Bike and Build eating are on separate caloric scales. Without describing every painful hill, I will just say biking it difficult when you don't eat enough. I would also like to personally thank Michelle, Scott and Daniel for staying with me and pulling me the entire day even when I lead them up a hill at a wicked fast 3-4mph. The end of the day we also got hot chocolate in Johnson Village about 2 miles outside of host site. It was delicious and possibly saved my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The hosts at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Buena&lt;/span&gt; Vista were amazing. One of the ladies made this spinach/cheese lasagna. Best ever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Gunnison&lt;/span&gt;: The morning we had a breakfast of pancakes provided by the Optimist Club. I didn't really know what an Optimist Club was or what they did, but they did make free pancakes and let you jump ahead in line for seconds. A good system.&lt;br /&gt;A third pancake is necessary for climbing the continental divide. I think that is some kind of proverb or it's in the Book of Virtues or something. Dan C., Dan T. and I started climbing out with high spirits, singing and talking. Then at some point along the trip, possibly corresponding to the thinning of air, the singing seemed to stop. Dan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Carmody&lt;/span&gt; invented a new word as well, combining "Climb" and "Die" = &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Clie&lt;/span&gt; as used in "Claire, ... I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;clying&lt;/span&gt;." No one is quite sure what motivated this new word because everyone knows climbing is really fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Actually climbing really isn't all that bad. Your brain sort of shuts off and your legs begin to pedal by themselves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;anwyay&lt;/span&gt;. It only gets worse when you "wake up" from the climb. I was climbing then suddenly realized I was on a bike and oh.. look a hotel. We must be near the top. Why would they build a hotel if we weren't near the top with a view? So naive. Some 2 additional hours later we were actually at the top. I "woke up" several times during that as well to see: 3 separate turns in the road that I thought were for sure the top, and also snow. Thankfully, Angela, the blessing that she is, bought us all hot chocolate for lunch. so good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The descent off the mountain was actually cold, wet, and all-in-all pretty frightening. I hope other blogs describe this in better detail, but the end result was the 30 of us ( minus Dave &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Getchel&lt;/span&gt; who stops for nothing not even mountain hurricanes) overtaking a gas station which by providence had dryers. We stayed there for about an hour and half consuming more warm beverages. Or for Emily nervous Snickers Bar eating. And also thankfully we had the most fantastic tailwind, not since that day in Kansas, all the way into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Gunnison&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Ouray&lt;/span&gt;: Riding into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Ouray&lt;/span&gt; was one of the most beautiful and awesome days that I feel will just be impossible to describe. We awoke in the morning to rain. All of us were somewhat emotionally and mentally scarred from the previous day recalling all the fun things that can occur when biking through water, so we left somewhat hesitantly. It clear up though within the first 30 minutes followed by such cliches things like crystal blue lakes, rainbows, snow capped mountains, and majestic/rugged cliffs. It was amazing, but not all the interesting to read about. We also came to this valley that greatly resembled that part in Jurassic Park when they first see the Brontosaurus, and that song plays. After that we began discussing Michael Crichton and all his many accomplishments. The discussion then turned into a 4 hour fabricated quiz/fact sharing on the details of Michael Crichton's life. Here is yet another brief excerpt into the experience of spending 7 hours on a bike each day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Angela, True or False. Michael Crichton has previously owned a gorilla?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Angela: "True" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"No, I'm sorry. False. But he did lease one for two months during the writing of &lt;em&gt;Congo&lt;/em&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dan C.: "Micheal Crichton has a pilot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;liscence&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dan T.: " Micheal Crichton drives a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Jetta&lt;/span&gt; and his best score at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Hawaiin&lt;/span&gt; Rumble mini golf is 12 under par" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The last miles were spent on " Million Mountain Road." This is a fictional name given to the newly paved roads in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;Colorodo&lt;/span&gt; as each inch in the road is like riding over millions of tiny hills. There are no shocks on road bikes tragically. I am convinced that the Highway &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;adminstration&lt;/span&gt; of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;colorado&lt;/span&gt; probably should look into possible embezzlement schemes as it appears that the old roads were just spray painted black.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Final stretch of road: rolling hills, ponies, grass, red cliffs, streams, yellow and white flowers, blue mountains, cool air, setting sun, mist. Magical. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;Durango&lt;/span&gt;: We had another 11,000 ft climb, not that we were scared or anything, but Dan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;Carmody&lt;/span&gt; and I decided to put off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;enevitable&lt;/span&gt; and go get some coffee beforehand. We went to Mouse's Chocolate. We as a group sometimes forget we are a bit of spectacle and that spandex and matching outfit sort of draws people's attention. But the nice lady behind the counter asked what we were doing, asked us about bike and build, ask why would anyone want to climb Red Mountain, and then treated us to some coffee and a scones. Thanks Mouse's Chocolate! Just as we were leaving we saw a local biker descending down the mountain. Oh, and he had his dog with him. Odd, but since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;Ouray&lt;/span&gt; is really just surrounded by cliffs... where else are you going to walk your dog, so sure. oh... no wait,.. that is Daven. Daven apparently had a cute little dog follow and stalk him about 1/2 mile up the hill but then had to turn around because he was afraid that it was going to get hit by a car. We coaxed the puppy to two ladies talking down the street. "Hi, um, this dog is following us. Would you mind holding it while we climb this mountain?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The whole ride was beautiful. When we were descending the first mountain, I almost cried. Really. It was so gorgeous that Dan C. and I even stopped mid -descent going 30 mph to take a picture. ( I can't figure out how to steal with the filter on this computer,  so it is here: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.carmodyfamily.com/bnb/updates.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.carmodyfamily.com/bnb/updates.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sadly on this trip we do see a lot of roadkill. It is not pleasant. Up the second climb I saw this strangely intact bird. I investigated its consciousness with a slight touch with the tip of my shoe. I was later accused by those bikers who hate birds and would rather run them down off the road ( Daven and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;Swaroop&lt;/span&gt;) of "kicking" the bird. Lies. I then seeing that it was in fact awake gently coaxed it over to the side of the road. Again "rescuing" animals on B&amp;amp;B really means " leave on the side of the road." The final descent was basically 25 miles. It was amazing, and took us straight into town. We had dinner and Emily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;Pedneau's&lt;/span&gt; Aunt and Uncle's house. Her uncle made eggplant p&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;armesan&lt;/span&gt;. I am being emailed the recipe at the conclusion of this trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Durango/ Build Day:  We tarred a house. Tar. Tar stains most everything. Everything including skin. I am in Arizona, I finally do not have tar on my leg.  Also on the build site, Michelle and I found these safety glasses that made the world seem more beautiful. Ask anyone who tried them on. It is not a lie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We spent the rest of day in downtown Durango. Peter from Maria's Bookstore bought us ice cream at MagPie's. I was amazing and unexpected. I would like to thanks Peter, and Scott Wilkin's Dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I also lost my phone in Durango. I am pretty sure that some mountain biker ( since the entire population of Durango largely mountain bikers) has found it and it using. You can still leave me messages if you want, but I will not likely call you back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Webb: still averaging 6.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-6329461898944621011?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/6329461898944621011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=6329461898944621011' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6329461898944621011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6329461898944621011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/07/leasing-is-not-same-as-owning-sorry.html' title='Leasing is not the same as owning, sorry.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-2471316383842554605</id><published>2008-07-04T21:49:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T22:09:06.904-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If your eye is always closed, then it should not be considered winking.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SG7U5SP-oRI/AAAAAAAAAHI/0XiFKILtKtk/s1600-h/vacation+island.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219343098785472786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SG7U5SP-oRI/AAAAAAAAAHI/0XiFKILtKtk/s200/vacation+island.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;By and by I have largely forsaken my blog. This is altogether tragic, and I will attempt to describe Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Kansas with the utmost accuracy.&lt;br /&gt;I am already anticipating it being way too long, so the City/Chapter method for those you are dedicated enough to read it all, probably just mom--you might want to spread it out over the next month, a little before bed each night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARKANSAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brinkley: Here is where we finally encountered flat ground. This entire trip we had been waiting for the glorious promise of the Arkansas delta. It was flat, really flat. But this is where we met wind. Wind... so sad.&lt;br /&gt;This day will also live in infamy because this is also when I so gracefully jammed my left foot in my front tire and did a slow motion flip over my bike. Is it considered an "accident" or "crash" if you are going about 6mph? not likely. Either way, I bent my tire to un-rideable conditions. Thankfully, by providence, I had earlier ruined Dan Carmody's tire which was left in the trailer --also slightly bent still, but you work with the what you have.&lt;br /&gt;Final highlight of this day would be Patrick's off-day's to end all off day's. It has coined the phrases such as "Just go.. Just go" and "Leave me, just leave me." At the time they were said in all seriousness, but now can be used in any context to make fun of Patrick, whether on the bike or even just in line for dinner, getting into the van for showers, walking to a coffee shop-- basically any situation in which you want to remind Patrick of that fateful day and then laugh at his expense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Rock: Shortly after racing through a small town at 30mph, Dan C. and I caught up to Cole who was engaged in conversation with Rudolph Whiteside, a 72 year old retired educator. Cole is a better conversationalist, as he discussed biking, Arkansas, and the in's and out's of underwater basket weaving with our new friend. Dan and I just sort of listened, then I started to blow bubbles. The occasion was pleasant, and that is why it is worth noting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SG7UeEUDK3I/AAAAAAAAAG4/ba772oTpk_w/s1600-h/theunderworld.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219342631187983218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SG7UeEUDK3I/AAAAAAAAAG4/ba772oTpk_w/s200/theunderworld.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first build day Dan Carmody, Dan Thomas and I spent several hours under a house trying to clean out an assorment of debris (rocks, branches, glass, beads, tamagotchis, spoons). Dan C. snapped and couldn't stand not to see the light of day and anymore. We then had to hire Emily Pedneau to replace him. It is hard to describe the depth of insanity that one reaches while under a house. But it could like be summed up in Emily's Vacation Island-- which was in fact a pile of railroad ties and a bush with string of beads. See above. That is all I wish to say.&lt;br /&gt;That night, we went to the Little Rock Travellers game, a minor league team. It then became pretty clear that the 30 of us don't get out that much. We all were matching in our red t-shirts and became possibly too excited to be on the jumbo-tron. Other highlights being: loud whistling, quail noises, and Scott Wilkins' polite and respectful heckling.&lt;br /&gt;The second day was a deconstruction project. I am going to be dependent on other's blogs if anyone in interested in the details of day. I am instead going to focus on Swaroop getting locked inside the building while napping before we were leaving to all go to the build site. I liken the incident to a child napping in a locked car as the parents frantically try to get in. I am convinced it was a calculated decision on his part to do this, although I am sure he would deny it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clarksville: This was our first century ride. Highlights would include me vanquishing Dan Thomas in three consecutive rounds of 20 questions... even despite is deceptive answering techniques.&lt;br /&gt;A small selection of dialogue from the game:&lt;br /&gt;(Keep in mind, his final answer is "Body Wash")&lt;br /&gt;me Q: Dan, would you store it in the garage?&lt;br /&gt;Dan A: Well... maybe.. I guess, no. You could store it in the garage... but I guess I wouldn't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me Q: Is it soap?&lt;br /&gt;Dan A: Uhh... well.... um.... yea. ( note the misleading hesitation)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 2nd lunch, we concocted some deadly Lemon lime Squincher, Orange/ Fruit Punch Gatorade elixir for the remainder of the trip. Squincher is the military's answer to gatorade for quenching one's deepest thirst, which was donated to us when we stayed in the armory back in Tennessee. It had gotten a little wet so in had turned into a semi-solid versus it proper powder consistency. So needless to say the preparation process was somewhat vile, but the final product was something similar to eating cotton candy while dancing on clouds. Samuel Kovach especially loved it. If he even heard a whisper of someone mentioning the term "squincher," his eyes would light up " Have you tasted it? Have you tasted it ? It's delicious!"&lt;br /&gt;Our host at Clarksville were exceptional. They were likened unto the Arkansas equivalent to Bel Haven ( the-town-that-was-a-hug), and that means a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SG7T93QFd3I/AAAAAAAAAGw/I88U9bS4IJo/s1600-h/worststopever.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219342077925881714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SG7T93QFd3I/AAAAAAAAAGw/I88U9bS4IJo/s200/worststopever.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fayetteville: Some riders on the trip have fond memories of riding through the Ozarks--the majestic hills, the sun drenched tree tops... um yea, not so much. Sometimes it just isn't your day. During some minor seat adjustments, I some how made a major a seat adjustment which put my knees into a most unpleasant state. Thankfully I was not alone and Scott, Michelle, Dan T., and for good stretch Becky as well joined me in my slow, tragic crawl to Fayetteville. At one point I made everyone stop at White River Baptist Church with no shade at all. With sun beating down and relatively stagnant air, it then became known as the " Worst stop ever"-- deem thusly by Patrick, Rachel, and Emily who also joined us. Apologies, friends, but thank you. Another low for that day was being happy when Michelle got a flat just so I could stop pedaling. Sad times, sad times. She later admitted that she also felt the same way. Tragic, again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;OKLAHOMA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grove: A much more pleasant ride, and the seat position issues were resolved.&lt;br /&gt;Dan C., Angela and I "rescued" a kitten from a tree. This basically means that Dan climbed up a tree. The cat didn't come down. Then it did eventually come down on its own. We then picked it up and pet it, and then left it on the side of the road again.&lt;br /&gt;Keep in mind the three of us were not riding alone, we were also accompanied by a group of "Kitty Dissenters" who wanted no part in saving adorable roadside mammals (Scott, Michelle, and Dan Thomas... I included there names so you can judge them according). After lunch we bike through a rainstorm, which was surprisingly delightful, and we sang any song or fragment of a song that had the word "rain" in the chorus.&lt;br /&gt;At mile 55 was "the Three Corners" of Oklahoma, Missouri, and Arkansas. Upon first arriving Daven, Maggie, and Dave were sitting on this lumpy rock in front of a large dead tree posing for a photo. I found this odd and thought to myself " Why are they on that rock? Is that a monument to that dead tree? Shouldn't they turn around so the "Welcome to Oklahoma" sign in the background instead of that dead, though I suppose for some mildly interesting tree in the background?" I then learned that we were in fact at the Three Corners, but there is little or no fanfare for such a location since if you think about occurs fairly often. We have been told that just one additional corner will be much more remarkable, so much so that we will have to pay a fee, and will likely need to buy some memorabilia to attach to our keys or a zipper to remind us of the event. The anticipation for the Four Corners is staggering...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bartlesville: This was Super Sweep day. All its records are in the journal entry for that day.&lt;br /&gt;The day off in Bartlesville was quite nice. I slept quite a bit. We did go downtown for a bit as well and experienced anything free the city had to offer. Price Tower, by Frank Lloyd Wright, the Conoco Philips Museum.&lt;br /&gt;This is also the day that Samuel and I decided to start attaching points to our winking game. It may be difficult to describe to anyone on the outside, but the rules started out simply: First to wink, wins. It started back in Winston Salem, and the game has since evolved. There are now rules on change of location, 5 minutes buffer between wins and ties, and whether winking with sunglasses on is legal. I also am trying to institute a rule that forbids Samuel from jumping out from behind a wall with one of his eyes already closed or just having one eye closed all the time. In any case Bartlesville is when points were brought into the game and then had to immediately be taken away again because it took over our lives. We could no longer interact in normal social situations. I would be trying to have conversation at dinner but would be winking at constant intervals and would sometimes have to interject "TIE!!" mid-sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ponca City: It was a rather windy and sad day. Angela had a fall and cracked her elbow open pretty significantly. It is always unpleasant to hear these things via phone chain on the road. It is scary, but as a disclaimer she is getting better and is riding now. So the van had to take Angela to the hospital, so the riders were on their own for lunch. We stopped in Pawhuska (Spelling?) the last human outpost, stocked up on gas station snacks and ate at Sonic before pressing on.&lt;br /&gt;Oklahoma is by in large a fenced in field. We had anticipated a delightful picnic of peanut butter, crackers, and trail mix under a shady tree at mile 55, but this sort vision becomes difficult to fulfill when the trees refuse to grow. We did eventually find an oasis of sorts at a abandoned gas station. Shortly after this stop the "Plains Song" was written. A short tune on the mental instability which can occur when biking through Arkansas and Oklahoma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cherokee: The girl and guy separate day. The girls spent most of the morning in what has become an instituted time known as "Girl Talk." It is basically a period of whispers and giggles to make the boys angry and jealous that they wanted to have guy/girl separate rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KANSAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coldwater: Tailwind. Tailwind is this magical experience. Tailwind is like floating. After lunch that day, some people didn't pedal for 3 miles and topped at 19 mph. Some chose to pedal and were going at 25 mph, but is was like being in a quiet room. After days of headwind and crosswind and not being able to hear anything, it was surreal. I would ride next to someone and the surroundings would be streaming by at 20-30 mph but their jersey was barely rustling, and I could talk to them like we were sitting across from each other at a table in a coffee shop... light jazz playing. Obvious exaggeration, but you get idea that is was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;Dan C., Dan T., and I decided to pull in and stop at the Coldwater, KS city limits sign. Dan C., found a "prickly pear," which was not a prickly, therefore was not likely a prickly pear as was then renamed ambiguous "desert fruit." He cut a piece in off, but then I insisted he cut it in half. Delirious from the ride, there was a conversation that probably went on for too long on debates about whether to eat it, or under what conditions one would likely eat it. Just then our dear friend Swaroop biked by. I jokingly and gently tossed half the desert fruit in his general direction. Having thrown the fruit "at" him, it rolled to a stop and Swaroop and I shared a touching moment and smile in the brief interlude before Dan Carmody's violent outburst. Dan C. then said " Gimme that other half" and promptly hammered it at Swaroop as hard as he could. The smile drained from Swaroop's face and was replace by fear and confusion as the desert fruit became lodged in his front spokes and made a couple of turns before he came to a stop. It was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;If anyone would like, I can forward any and all questions to Dan Carmody for his behavior. Also, any "get well soon" or " thinking of you" messages you wish to send to Swaroop as he recovers from such a horrifying attack can also be passed along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dodge City: Most of the day was spent trying to run out a storm. The wind was really strong. I remember a lot of staring at back tires of the people in front me. yep. that is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garden City: The ride was short and pleasant. I rode with Dan T. and Rachel, and we discussed medicine and child psychology. And Dan Oates set up a slip and slide at lunch. Good job, Dan.&lt;br /&gt;We then passed the high point in Kansas which was a "scenic overlook" consisting of a cattle yard and field. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;After dinner I cleaned dishes with my new friend Kayla. She and I re-enacted the break-up song from High School Musical2. I encouraged her to perform it with me at the talent show that night, but she could not be convinced.&lt;br /&gt;The talent show was spectacular, and all thanks should go to Emily Pedneau for the organization and execution. The winner was Lance and his original rendition of "Lullabye" - a bike and build poem. Honorable Mention goes to Scott Wilkins and his Bike and Build/ Love Rap Ballad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I congratulate all who have made it to the end. It is likely mid to late July if you followed my reading strategy I set out for you at the beginning. I appreciate your dedication, Mom.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-2471316383842554605?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/2471316383842554605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=2471316383842554605' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/2471316383842554605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/2471316383842554605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/07/if-your-eye-is-always-closed-then-it.html' title='If your eye is always closed, then it should not be considered winking.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SG7U5SP-oRI/AAAAAAAAAHI/0XiFKILtKtk/s72-c/vacation+island.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-1580482717765709057</id><published>2008-06-13T14:58:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T15:53:16.023-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A brief summary of Tennesee thus far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryville: Building was incredibly hot but fun. Michelle, Maggie and I spent most of the day mixing stucco and drinking tea. Well, I mostly drank the tea. I have usually been opposed the idea and consumption of sweet tea for most of my life, but this tea was amazing. Probably because it was acutal tea and not just sugar with a little brown water like you find at a Bojangles, a popular and reputable eating establishment found on every corner in Charlotte,&lt;br /&gt;NC ( Mom's favorite).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetwater:&lt;br /&gt;A short ride, consisted of coasting-contest with Dan Carmody (I win, naturally), and quizzing Devon on what cartoons have been made into live action movies.&lt;br /&gt;Ben Ryan's mom bought us Pizza Hut after which we ate ice cream at A&amp;amp;W/Long John Silver&lt;br /&gt;s next door. Apparently Long John Silvers has Wifi? yes. So Emily Pedneau and I forced our fellow riders into a viewing of "Bet on It."  They are all better people for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dunlap:&lt;br /&gt;29 people oversleep.  How is this possible? No one is quite sure. Dave did not oversleep. He later admitted that for the hour that we were still in bed he went into the weight room at 5am to pass the time. so amazing.&lt;br /&gt;The ride was intensely hot and there was huge climb after lunch. We all got somewhat dispersed--namely Scott passed me going up. I am pretty sure his bones are hollow or something like a weird little bird. A man in a pickup saw us at the top. He offered some water and told that it was 98 with a heat index of ten. I would tell you what he looked like but my vision was blurry from my own sweat pouring in my eyes. That was gross and likely too graphic.&lt;br /&gt;Also that day: Cole hit a dog. We think the dog is fine.&lt;br /&gt;Michelle bought Dan Thomas and I a carrot cake from a local store. It was a symbol of love and friendship and was to pacify our constant desire for Carrot Cake Clif Bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sewanee:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAUS MOUNTAIN.    The moral of this story: if you don't drink gatorade, you won't just be thirsty-- you will die.&lt;br /&gt;I actually don't want to discuss Daus Mountain in detail. If you want a better description I would suggest jumping to other riders' blogs. Mostly because I can't really remember it. I came to at lunch time. All I can recall is blinking a few times and waking up with some pretzel sticks in my hand and some peanut butter on side of my face. I was in the grass and there were a two empty water bottle next to me with remaining orange gatorade residue.&lt;br /&gt;We camped outside Sewanee: The University of the South. It was a delightful place, and I was happy that gatorade was invented to that I could enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulaski:&lt;br /&gt;A group descent out of Sewanee followed by bagels and coffee at mile 20. Somewhere between bagels and  lunch there were a few moments of insanity which involved a lot of spontaneous songs, mostly disney.  Post-first lunch, Dan Carmody and I racing on the flats, trying to hold 27 mph, then failing subsquently each time we tried again. Mile 75, ice cream at a BP. The precious fuel of frozen dairy. Mile 78, flat tire.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was at the mayor's house. How did this amazing event transpire? Again, no one is quite sure, it was fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adamsville:&lt;br /&gt;All sense time had begun to dissolve at this point. We wake up, and no one is quite sure what time it is... I guess it is usually 5am. Then we bike, then we eat, bike, eat, bike, eat in that order.&lt;br /&gt;On our way to Adamsville, we are delighted to see that Ben had found a great spot for first lunch ( two lunch on 90+ mile days). We are also delighted at the surplus of potluck food from the night before. Maggie and I had some feta-olive pasta. She also suggests a pork sandwich with hot sauce too. "Good idea, Maggie!"  As I take my final bite and finish my delcious sandwich I happen to only now look at my watch. 9am.   Truly vile.&lt;br /&gt;We also chalked the road for Samuel's birthday. We were afraid that Samuel might catch up with us and see his birthday message before completion, but as some other riders pulled up and told us got a flat tire. We all cheered.  Poor Samuel.&lt;br /&gt;On a less pleasant note, Dan Carmody took a spill. But was fine only with scratches. I tried to help by trying to true his wheel. I failed miserably. But Dan was fine, in fact, he later raced ahead of us and left us coughing in his dust with low self-esteem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally short tale of Patrick Mallory and his flat tire:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once a upon a time Patrick Mallory got a flat tire. Many of his friends stopped to help him. He gave them a replacement tube to put in the tire. They pumped up this tube, but would not get over 90psi. Weird, Patrick, we have been puming this tube for little over a half hour. Oh well, let's go.&lt;br /&gt;Patrick sits on bike.&lt;br /&gt;Tire pops again.&lt;br /&gt;Patrick gave his friends a tube with a hole in it, apparently.&lt;br /&gt;Patrick's friends are no longer his friends.&lt;br /&gt;The  end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-1580482717765709057?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/1580482717765709057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=1580482717765709057' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/1580482717765709057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/1580482717765709057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/06/brief-summary-of-tennesee-thus-far.html' title=''/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-7897289958643979889</id><published>2008-06-06T22:23:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T22:58:07.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisa.. lies lies.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnxygLuFwI/AAAAAAAAAGI/E-sF798nylE/s1600-h/DSCF0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnxygLuFwI/AAAAAAAAAGI/E-sF798nylE/s200/DSCF0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208960293965534978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fig1. Moment of insanity climbing up Mt. Mitchell. Many clif bars consumed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We  have finally made it into Tennessee.  North Carolina was a delight but an unfortunately long and hilly state.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have included a timeline of the topography thus far. Sadly it is not that much of an exaggeration.  The Blue Ridge Parkway crosses in fact a mountain. Many mountains.  I have told this to many fellow riders already, but when I imagine myself  "biking across the country" I mostly imagine myself in Kansas. Long, flat Kansas. For some reason I didn't recognize the Appalachian Mountains as a significant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; geographical feature in our nations landscape. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEn0M1NPweI/AAAAAAAAAGo/iw5Sev-pbAQ/s1600-h/Timeline.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEn0M1NPweI/AAAAAAAAAGo/iw5Sev-pbAQ/s200/Timeline.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208962945308934626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fig. 2  Timeline of Topography&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnyUX8RdzI/AAAAAAAAAGg/UZhNLtzap6k/s1600-h/DSCF0053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnyUX8RdzI/AAAAAAAAAGg/UZhNLtzap6k/s200/DSCF0053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208960875868813106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fig. 3 Dan Carmody and I making it to Tennessee.  We only  remember it being fun... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnx6wwKfSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/Dor4PfSoiGY/s1600-h/DSCF0022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnx6wwKfSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/Dor4PfSoiGY/s200/DSCF0022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208960435852311842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fig. 4  Dan Thomas with a sign.&lt;br /&gt;You didn't see this, and no we did not go on this road. cough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fig&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;. 5 Emily Pedneau claims victory in the first ever "calf-off" competition. I expect foul play, and bias judging by Lisa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnyDJ7ajZI/AAAAAAAAAGY/aWqHkBQPA1s/s1600-h/DSCF0045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnyDJ7ajZI/AAAAAAAAAGY/aWqHkBQPA1s/s200/DSCF0045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208960580049341842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-7897289958643979889?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/7897289958643979889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=7897289958643979889' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7897289958643979889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7897289958643979889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/06/lisa-lies-lies.html' title='Lisa.. lies lies.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SEnxygLuFwI/AAAAAAAAAGI/E-sF798nylE/s72-c/DSCF0013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-7008141026439532026</id><published>2008-05-29T18:34:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T19:14:53.797-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If the brownies were there, you would eat them too.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We are currently in Chapel Hill, NC and have completed our second and final build day. We are riding 85 miles in Winston-Salem. Is Winston-Salem hyphenated? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Each day we are supposed to reach the host site by 4 pm for showers/dinner. Yes, we made it at 3:55. This somewhat lengthy pitstop (Fig. 1) was well worth it though considering all the history and folklore gleaned on such a venture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD8wkigFNLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/bkAywxBixDM/s1600-h/octogon.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205933098558370994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD8wkigFNLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/bkAywxBixDM/s200/octogon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD8wkigFNLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/bkAywxBixDM/s1600-h/octogon.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fig. 1 The Octagon House &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yesterday, we spent about half the day at a build site in Fairfield, NC for Habitat for Humanity before being rained out. It was a tragic turn of events and were sent back to the the church we are staying, Chapel of the Cross, to read, watch movies, twiddle our thumbs til the next day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Michelle, Scott, and Dan #2, and I having made our thumbs sore from twiddling decided to go swimming in one of UNC's pool. Michelle and I choreographed an extensive sychronized swimming routine. Scott and Dan #2 were less creative and provided little competition. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We won. Obviously. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We used influences of all genres of dance in our routine but most came from our formal ballet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;instruction as provided by Michelle. See Fig. 2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD8w4ygFNNI/AAAAAAAAAF4/LOA-IucMpXU/s1600-h/ballet.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205933446450722002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD8w4ygFNNI/AAAAAAAAAF4/LOA-IucMpXU/s200/ballet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fig. 2 Ballet practice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As mentioned before we are leaving and will once again continue biking. Interestingly having these two days off have done little to curb our extensive appetite. There are many of us here, thanks to the generosity of our host, have begun to eat a cupcake at every meal (Dan Carmody). Sad. Sad. Sad. But true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD83migFNOI/AAAAAAAAAGA/YQjKMD2fQQM/s1600-h/wheat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205940829499503842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD83migFNOI/AAAAAAAAAGA/YQjKMD2fQQM/s200/wheat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fig. 3 Flowers and fields &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We anticipate hills, sweat, hardwork, and more brownies at breakfast. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-7008141026439532026?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/7008141026439532026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=7008141026439532026' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7008141026439532026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7008141026439532026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/05/if-brownies-were-there-you-would-eat.html' title='If the brownies were there, you would eat them too.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SD8wkigFNLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/bkAywxBixDM/s72-c/octogon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-7612947264794075745</id><published>2008-05-24T14:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T14:39:42.105-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bel Haven, NC</title><content type='html'>A sorry post with no pictures, but it has been a tough to find a way to upload photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But soon to come magic and delights from Nag's Head and Swanquarter. Such enchanting adventures include the stop at the Octagon House and mysterious stories of the Church-Moved-By-The-Hand-Of-God. The brief summary goes something like this: hurricane, wind, church moves, an angry old man dies and his tombstone is missing.  yes, that sums it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Special Thanks to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles East  in Matthews, NC and Billy Carpenter.&lt;br /&gt;They really helped me a lot with everything I could possibly think of, and so far I have had no problems and have been really comfortable. excellence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also thanks again to Alan Romfelt for all his advice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-7612947264794075745?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/7612947264794075745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=7612947264794075745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7612947264794075745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7612947264794075745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/05/bel-haven-nc.html' title='Bel Haven, NC'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-4372449674587448529</id><published>2008-05-15T22:25:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T23:59:11.425-04:00</updated><title type='text'>$4083  yes yes Awesome/  Tragic Farewell to Blacksburg</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzx9--n1RI/AAAAAAAAAFI/a11W6PbnE7s/s1600-h/007_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzx9--n1RI/AAAAAAAAAFI/a11W6PbnE7s/s200/007_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200797716886050066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Blacksburg, I am going to miss you--your bike lanes/turning lanes and your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;large trucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzyMu-n1SI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VWJQg8bpfsA/s1600-h/006_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzyMu-n1SI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VWJQg8bpfsA/s200/006_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200797970289120546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Your never ending supply of interesting and engaging garbage. This one by far was my favorite, the family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; sized banquet chicken nugget bag, really in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; the middle of nowhere --an additional sprig of parsley as a one of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; many possible serving suggestions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzycO-n1TI/AAAAAAAAAFY/YgN7Y-mXvCs/s1600-h/MtTaborRd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 63px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzycO-n1TI/AAAAAAAAAFY/YgN7Y-mXvCs/s200/MtTaborRd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200798236577092914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;m going to miss Mt. Tabor Rd. and any of the other surrounding "hills" of t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;he area that take about 30 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;minutes to climb. Tear,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; tear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes!!! made it! $4083, before the deadline. excellence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzyou-n1UI/AAAAAAAAAFg/-1Q8SY8o3YM/s1600-h/017_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzyou-n1UI/AAAAAAAAAFg/-1Q8SY8o3YM/s200/017_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200798451325457730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jason Fox, super awesome Bay resident.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Katie Brutsche, field camp love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Alec Luong, best wpolo coach ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kayla Iacovino Phd., scientist, director, and baker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dr. Erikkson, my very cool sedimentology professor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Stephanie Cox, geology soulmate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Amy Waller, sister and donor of the century even though she didn't go to graduation. She was sick. So here is a precious picture as a special treat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is ok to ignore the disgruntled girl the in the background. Not sure who that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-4372449674587448529?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/4372449674587448529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=4372449674587448529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/4372449674587448529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/4372449674587448529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/05/4083-yes-yes-awesome-tragic-farewell-to.html' title='$4083  yes yes Awesome/  Tragic Farewell to Blacksburg'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SCzx9--n1RI/AAAAAAAAAFI/a11W6PbnE7s/s72-c/007_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-4911227811845488005</id><published>2008-04-24T00:30:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T00:49:12.304-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Necessary amount of hydration while driving.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAM_SpBSkI/AAAAAAAAADw/xlYyoBSBQsk/s1600-h/026_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAM_SpBSkI/AAAAAAAAADw/xlYyoBSBQsk/s200/026_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192664651833363010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAOPipBSmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1NGLh5DGUGI/s1600-h/041_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAOPipBSmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1NGLh5DGUGI/s200/041_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192666030517865058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's ride in short:  Purple flowers line the road for miles, magic butterfly friend, strong CCL evidence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aforementioned flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAOsypBSoI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/M3OxoH7jDRk/s1600-h/008_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAOsypBSoI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/M3OxoH7jDRk/s200/008_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192666533029038722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look closely: 4 in a single frame. Also, an entire liter. Consumed by one individual? possibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAOzCpBSpI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3J3OCssP48g/s1600-h/007_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAOzCpBSpI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3J3OCssP48g/s200/007_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192666640403221138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAQCSpBSqI/AAAAAAAAAEg/0J2f1d4c_4U/s1600-h/019_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAQCSpBSqI/AAAAAAAAAEg/0J2f1d4c_4U/s200/019_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192668001907853986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No new funds, but scheming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-4911227811845488005?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/4911227811845488005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=4911227811845488005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/4911227811845488005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/4911227811845488005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/04/necessary-amount-of-hydration-while.html' title='Necessary amount of hydration while driving.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SBAM_SpBSkI/AAAAAAAAADw/xlYyoBSBQsk/s72-c/026_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-6569922955512530918</id><published>2008-04-19T19:32:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T20:07:40.809-04:00</updated><title type='text'>$3333.50/  There is nothing magical about a selfish goat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqBXqKsvaI/AAAAAAAAADA/xoYNgP4qaV8/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 153px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqBXqKsvaI/AAAAAAAAADA/xoYNgP4qaV8/s320/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191103763954056610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dan Carmody, a fellow bike-and-builder and friend at Carnegie Mellon, has shamelessly plugged my website on his, so to pay him back, I am doing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; the same:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.carmodyfamily.com/bnb/index.htm"&gt;http://www.carmodyfamily.com/bnb/index.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His is actually much better than mine because it focuses on issues of low income housing instead of mello yellow. It also consists of more than one page, which I am not skilled enough to create.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Today, I fulfilled one of the su&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ggestion/requirements put before us by our bike and build leaders which is to bike in t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;he rain. It initially can only be described as “wildly unpleasant.” &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This seems pretty logical since plenty of people would see it pouring outside and not think “gee, what a great day for a ride.” Case in point: Steve Vito, big time wuss-out. I hope he reads this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So really though it wasn’t that bad, and for what amount of misery it is you really make up for it in getting really dirty and just basically looking hardcore. Essentially break even. I saw two other riders and we gave each other the silent nods of “You’re hardcore and awesome” “No, you’re hardcore and awesome.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqBpKKsvbI/AAAAAAAAADI/zoZmac04po4/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 111px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqBpKKsvbI/AAAAAAAAADI/zoZmac04po4/s320/015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191104064601767346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;A brief summary of the climax of the ride:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I somehow got off a paved road and was wandering around in the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; backwoods of Christiansburg. It wasn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;’t  really a gravel road persay, more like “not incredibly paved.” So climbed up a huge hill on this “not incredibly paved” road where it forks at the top (see left) . Of course I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; veered off the initial route to follow this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqCraKsvdI/AAAAAAAAADY/Xydz0Ux1jFc/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 165px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqCraKsvdI/AAAAAAAAADY/Xydz0Ux1jFc/s200/030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191105202768100818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And yes, a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqC26KsveI/AAAAAAAAADg/fbhbfFWgd-I/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 155px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqC26KsveI/AAAAAAAAADg/fbhbfFWgd-I/s200/031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191105400336596450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pen fun of ponies--arguably one of the more cuter things that could have possibly come out of biking down &lt;st1:street st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:address st="on"&gt;&lt;/st1:address&gt;&lt;/st1:street&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;st1:street st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:address st="on"&gt;Unicorn Ln.&lt;/st1:address&gt;&lt;/st1:street&gt; I am convinced that the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;white one is a baby unicorn (considering the road name and difficulty in arriving in such a place).  I am therefore determined &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;to befrie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nd it, so it will grant me a wish. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;One of the goats is a serious glutton, but by several &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;methods I am able to get the pony/baby unicorn some of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;grass. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I pedal away from the baby unicorn, satisfied that I will probably have a wish granted within the week and am generally in love with the world.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hello, flowers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hello, trees. Hello, un-fenced dog…”&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, in hindsight, not that big of a dog. And&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I retold this to my roommate ,and they noted that I could have probably just kicked the dog in the face.  But really-still, it was scary.&lt;br /&gt;It chased me uphill so I couldn’t get going that fast enough, and it was biting at my feet. I have never pedaled so hard.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It finally gave up, and once I reached far enough away I nearly doubled over and threw up. It was really fun adventure… cough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Anyway, that summary was far from brief, but obviously necessary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thanks to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bryan Wuest--for creating and then infiltrating to put up the delightful banner. The picture taken on the Minneapolis Greenway on our way to drink excess amounts of chai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqDhqKsvfI/AAAAAAAAADo/bVt85zyyuuY/s1600-h/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 107px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqDhqKsvfI/AAAAAAAAADo/bVt85zyyuuY/s200/029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191106134776004082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Memaw and Grandpa!! Sponsors of the year, by far. Thanks!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kelly Waters, fellow wpolo teammate and s’more eater.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-6569922955512530918?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/6569922955512530918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=6569922955512530918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6569922955512530918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6569922955512530918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/04/333350-there-is-nothing-magical-about.html' title='$3333.50/  There is nothing magical about a selfish goat.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAqBXqKsvaI/AAAAAAAAADA/xoYNgP4qaV8/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-9116334454245792930</id><published>2008-04-17T08:59:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T17:19:59.301-04:00</updated><title type='text'>$2783.50 /  Radford, land of citrus beverage (sorry Katherine)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAdLxVOnCCI/AAAAAAAAACo/m5UyTMa6UkY/s1600-h/MelloYellowcompressed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAdLxVOnCCI/AAAAAAAAACo/m5UyTMa6UkY/s320/MelloYellowcompressed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190200406451882018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fig. 1                                                                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Two hour bike rides give you plenty of time to think about and over-analyze stupid observations; hence I have decided to publish my research here.&lt;br /&gt;Thesis: There is a strong correlation with caffeinated citrus flavored beverages and large angry trucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So far my data is somewhat patchy, and giving evidence to causality is probably still far in the future, and possibly several grants later for such an important scientific endeavor as this.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fig.1 indicates the large spike in caffeinated-citrus-litter (CCL). Here we do not discern among popular brands, but it is worth noting there is a distinct change in brands from commuters from &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Blacksburg&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; to Radford versus Radford and Christiansburg, interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAdROVOnCEI/AAAAAAAAAC4/J4XmFgY1oaQ/s1600-h/trucksvtrashcompressed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAdROVOnCEI/AAAAAAAAAC4/J4XmFgY1oaQ/s320/trucksvtrashcompressed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190206402226227266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fig. 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fig. 2 is a highly precise graph of observations (notice scale on y-axis) of the strong occurrence of angry trucks and CCL along the side of road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fig. 1 also shows the abandoned (abandoned meaning 2 employees) Subway in Christiansburg that I filled my water bottle up at. The key is to just not make eye-contact with anyone. Walk-in, walk-out. It was brilliant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Special thanks to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Laura Cunningham for looking up on google maps where I was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;additionally:&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Bodnar!! Thanks. Always making senior seminar really fun.&lt;br /&gt;Dan Carmody, thanks, but yes I still win.&lt;br /&gt;Victoria Martin, gas bill+ &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Ravi&lt;/st1:place&gt; Kumar-like interest on top. Well done!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-9116334454245792930?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/9116334454245792930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=9116334454245792930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/9116334454245792930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/9116334454245792930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/04/278350-radford-land-of-citrus-beverage.html' title='$2783.50 /  Radford, land of citrus beverage (sorry Katherine)'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/SAdLxVOnCCI/AAAAAAAAACo/m5UyTMa6UkY/s72-c/MelloYellowcompressed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-2700686977039473430</id><published>2008-04-03T11:35:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T11:14:16.324-04:00</updated><title type='text'>$2593.50/ Floss and then discard on the side of the road.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R_T5-AmNF1I/AAAAAAAAABg/OsdZrNiJjm8/s1600-h/P2160735.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The MULLINS ARE AWESOME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R_T5-AmNF1I/AAAAAAAAABg/OsdZrNiJjm8/s320/P2160735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185043914717730642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kara has noted that thanking people is really boring, and makes my writing altogether uninteresting. noted, Kara. I will try harder in the future. But I have to play catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First:&lt;br /&gt;The MULLIN Family in all their greatness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also to thank:&lt;br /&gt;Miss and and Mr. Vito&lt;br /&gt;Stephen Indyk, water bill + extra because he is great.&lt;br /&gt;Justin Olschlager, awesome all the time.&lt;br /&gt;John Wyatt for the intense amount of change&lt;br /&gt;Connie Lowe, Geology Dept. Mom.&lt;br /&gt;Bruce! My basement dwelling roommate.&lt;br /&gt;Bryan Wuest thanks a lot, plus the further encouragement for better health in order to make use of the rest of your birthday present, and uniform grass detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara, also said it was boring when I wrote about my bike rides. Sorry, that is what is is all about.&lt;br /&gt;So Tuesday, amazing and beautiful outside. Trash seen on ride: about 6 or 7 single-use teeth flossers. I see alot of trash while climbing-- alot of front wheel staring, which is probably bad technique.&lt;br /&gt;This morning: ice, sleet. no ride. garbage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also decided to go to Caltech for the fall. Good deal. Pretty happy about the decision. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-2700686977039473430?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/2700686977039473430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=2700686977039473430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/2700686977039473430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/2700686977039473430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/04/259350-floss-and-then-discard-on-side.html' title='$2593.50/ Floss and then discard on the side of the road.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R_T5-AmNF1I/AAAAAAAAABg/OsdZrNiJjm8/s72-c/P2160735.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-6519382862372066453</id><published>2008-03-18T19:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T11:13:32.692-04:00</updated><title type='text'>$2033. First round success!! and small coffee failure.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes! YES! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So much relief. Beat the deadline $2033 before the March 21&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt;/ $2000 mark. Much thanks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; to everyone who has given. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Final totals on the change counting from neighborhood panic attack: $149. Wow again. I live in a pretty great neighborhood. Thanks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Mr. and Mrs. Moses. Thanks for generosity always: home cooked dinners, astronauts, abundant entertainment, aussie bites, hair straigheners, and grad schools advice ( “Don’t be a doink”). Thanks so much for your donation. You guys are fantastic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Za, well aware that she is actually the best. And you are. Well done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Za’s Mom and Dad (Pattie and Willie G) Thanks so so much. I love you and the farm and will be back to sit in your kitchen. Za told me you are helping me out even more, I can’t thank you enough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Mom and Dad.  Thanks for donating, even when you don’t know you are. Ha. Just kidding… sort of. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Rizwan. Good Job. Timely + extra. Youre awesome. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Cathy and John. Thanks neighbors!! Act like neighbors even when you aren’t neighbors. Thanks so much! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Uncle P and Aunt Martha. Thanks so much. Even after reading my obnoxiously sarcastic letter. I really appreciate it. Thanks again. Family = love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;More thanks to Alan. Awesome bike advice and potential gear borrowing! Thanks thanks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ok confession. It is my birthday, so I bought a coffee—a fancy one. I thought after abstaining I would perhaps find it gross or not care for it as much. nope. It was delicious.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-6519382862372066453?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/6519382862372066453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=6519382862372066453' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6519382862372066453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6519382862372066453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/03/2033-first-round-success-and-small.html' title='$2033. First round success!! and small coffee failure.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-3417468849789132470</id><published>2008-03-14T20:57:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T21:18:43.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Many dogs and  lots of quarters.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thanks Susan!! I am pretty sure we have met on two occasions. Really that makes you that much more awesome. Thanks so much.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Cat. I love you. I have already mentioned this before, but you are great. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Darren. Thanks again. Sorry for confusing you with flattery. Also thank you for not letting me burn down the house. It is much appreciated.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Barbara/ entire Williams clan. Thanks so much. I miss you and Rolling Green and Willy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The deadline is approaching near, so I may have started getting a little anxious about the whole matter. So tonight I put on my bike gear, covered an oatmeal container with a bike and build brochure and went out knocking on possibly ever door in the neighborhood. So amazing !! Some people were so incredibly generous. I got two checks, a number of bills and lots and lots of change, 2 nails, 3 screws, and a tack. I haven’t counted it out y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;et, but the whole event was pretty awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9sgCcA51aI/AAAAAAAAABA/ECZ72ifL5zk/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 139px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9sgCcA51aI/AAAAAAAAABA/ECZ72ifL5zk/s320/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177767422844327330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9sgNMA51bI/AAAAAAAAABI/KpzMKtEbkuE/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 205px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9sgNMA51bI/AAAAAAAAABI/KpzMKtEbkuE/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177767607527921074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So I personally get to thank those who straight up wrote me checks even when I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; was asking for change:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thuon, you and all roommates plus 6 (possibly 7?) dogs are really amazing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and funny. Thanks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adriana and housemates—thanks for inviting me in, for the water, for great&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; conversation and for your amazing generosity. You guys are great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9sjgcA51dI/AAAAAAAAABY/45aWj5i0Ztc/s1600-h/004_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9sjgcA51dI/AAAAAAAAABY/45aWj5i0Ztc/s320/004_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177771236775286226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also this one lady gave me her quarter collection. Wow, state quarter collection. Not even kidding. And some people didn’t even really wait for me to explain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; what I was doing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I got through “Hi, I am raising money for Bike and Build…” and they would bolt upstairs and bring down their change jar&lt;br /&gt;and dump it in. I mean I was really really impressed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Here is yet un-fixed hover disk. Also a goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-3417468849789132470?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/3417468849789132470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=3417468849789132470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/3417468849789132470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/3417468849789132470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/03/many-dogs-and-lots-of-quarters.html' title='Many dogs and  lots of quarters.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9sgCcA51aI/AAAAAAAAABA/ECZ72ifL5zk/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-4987119362934577730</id><published>2008-03-10T01:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T01:16:28.348-04:00</updated><title type='text'>$1300 Well Done; and Additional Indecision</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;my only shot of Tucson. And now that it is in picture form, admittantly not that exciting. But pleasant nonetheless. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9TDgFyn6_I/AAAAAAAAAAo/Wb9iEJwoXps/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175976827833281522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="208" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9TDgFyn6_I/AAAAAAAAAAo/Wb9iEJwoXps/s320/017.JPG" width="284" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thanks to the Devlin family. I have been trying to usurp Bridget’s place for a long time now. I love you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane, many many thanks. I promise to make more family correspondence that doesn’t have to do with money or Amy’s boyfriends. Promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alan and Trish!! Thank thanks so very much! You guys are great! Alan, I am writing soon to ask for biking tips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia, thanks so much. It means a lot, especially when you don’t even know a person. Really appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have reached $1300. I need $2000 by March 21st. It will be close, but I have got to make it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t been updating because I haven’t been biking. It seemed wrong. I am on a little graduate school tour. I am currently in a hotel in Pasadena visiting Caltech. Just before this, Tucson for U of Arizona, and weekend or two before that U of Washington.&lt;br /&gt;My final visit is U of Minnesota and then that is that, and I will have to decide. Umm. Not sure as of now. Pretty serious indecision at the moment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-4987119362934577730?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/4987119362934577730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=4987119362934577730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/4987119362934577730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/4987119362934577730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/03/1300-well-done-and-additional.html' title='$1300 Well Done; and Additional Indecision'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R9TDgFyn6_I/AAAAAAAAAAo/Wb9iEJwoXps/s72-c/017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-7116272612552835377</id><published>2008-02-25T23:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T23:42:22.194-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bunnies don't eat ketchup.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R8OS-tQ9EnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/rWrm-zi5OnU/s1600-h/torture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R8OS-tQ9EnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/rWrm-zi5OnU/s320/torture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171138403151712882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I talked to Scott Shapiro ( B&amp;amp;B group leader) yesterday, bemoaning the cold and the all the excitement of cycling that is lost to a stationary bike. Ah! but lo and behold, today a balmy 50 F, so in lieu of more pressing matters of schooling I decided to fit in an short ride. The Virginia Tech cycling club has a pretty nice website with different routes that are bike friendly or relatively so--essentially a low density of those large trucks with 4 rear wheels and lights on top.  Also they include these neat and clever elevation profiles, which I have labeled to summarize the trip.  The portion of ride under "Torture" is Harding Rd., which intersects on the way up roads such as "Bunny Trail" and "Happy Hallow." I started to think as I climbed whether I should turn off one of those. Surely Bunny Trail Rd. would be less steep and generally more happy. And if I got tired, I am sure a large group of soft rabbits would gently carry me the rest of the way home anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Also on this ride I found a deflated Hover Disk. And, yes, I attached it to my bike and took it home. I plan on repairing it so that it may fly once more. Although, all in all, the garbage in Blacksburg is much less and exciting or diverse then the litter surrounding Greenbelt, Md where I was this fall-- a surprising number of wigs, bags of bread (specifically baguettes), boxes of bananas, and on one occasion an unopened box ring pops.  More than once I thought I had pedaled far beyond the reaches of civilization and would hit a ketchup packet at 20mph. Incredibly pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-7116272612552835377?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/7116272612552835377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=7116272612552835377' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7116272612552835377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/7116272612552835377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/02/bunnies-dont-eat-ketchup.html' title='Bunnies don&apos;t eat ketchup.'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R8OS-tQ9EnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/rWrm-zi5OnU/s72-c/torture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-6063901142114530619</id><published>2008-02-19T23:44:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T23:12:36.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving, hydration, and polo sans ponies</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I think I will start a tradition of shameless thanking at the beginning of each entry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Many thanks to the following:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Claudia and Margie, who despite having only met me a number of times, most often at Panera Bread, are both amazing and donated, even knowing that I am the daughter of Miss Manners. That says a lot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Karen, even though as a child I trespassed on her yard, probably killed plants and wildlife. And she even sent me back my stamped envelope. Thanks so much! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Stephanie, who also took it upon herself to entertain my homeless brother for several days’ time. She is amazing. Congratulations if you have even just ever met her acquaintance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sam. Provider of the Lotus road bike, which truly started it all. Not very good at Scrabble but has a myriad of other good qualities, like being an awesome swim coach even to those who don’t swim anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Aunt Ruth. You’re the best. See you at the end in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;San Diego&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;! We can discuss the trip over dinner and muffins. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ms Cindy and Mr. Don, who also so generously supply their basement, chocolate beverages, backyard, and a little bit of their sanity every time we all come over. Thanks for everything! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So at this point I am at $995.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;yes yes yes! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I need $2000 by March 21&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; and $4000 by May. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Update on self trickery:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It has thus far earned me $12 from myself ( oh, new total $1007), and also obviously all the immediate health benefits from avoiding coffee as well like: the grogginess, the irritability, and the inability to function in a normal social setting before 10am. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Actually for the most part I have been fine. I have started employing other methods to keep me awake anyway such as always needing to go to the bathroom from drinking so much water all the time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Real updates:&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Next Virginia Tech Chapter of Habitat for Humanity build March 15th.&lt;br /&gt;http://www.habitat.org.vt.edu/portal.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Biking/training has been semi-productive. Home to class to home is about 5 miles, and when you forget your books, its 10.        yea. Fun.&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise it has been too ungodly cold to take on any serious rides as of yet. I have been mostly swimming, playing water polo, or trying a stationary bike. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Speaking of water polo. &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Championships&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;@&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;James&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Madison&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;University&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;April 12-13&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Worth mentioning because I have good faith that we are going to be awesome.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-6063901142114530619?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/6063901142114530619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=6063901142114530619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6063901142114530619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/6063901142114530619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/02/thanksgiving-hydration-and-polo-sans.html' title='Thanksgiving, hydration, and polo sans ponies'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7665455985394511818.post-5105544568484258767</id><published>2008-02-07T01:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T01:34:42.392-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shameless thanking and healthier caffeine free lifestyle</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let us all bask in the amazing awesomeness of Miss Laurie and Mr. Mike along with Auntie Paula and Greg, being my first donors. Truly amazing and great.  It has even inspired me to write what is sure to become this self-consuming blog, which, case in point, has thus far kept me from finishing my homework for tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have developed a scheme in which to improve my overall health as well as earn me some much needed funds. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--A scheme is obviously necessary because apparently I can’t just choose to be healthier, or just give of my own free will. That would be ridiculous. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have calculated (well, not actually calculated, more like a brief mental estimate. Putting real numbers on this would be far too depressing) the large sums of money I must spend on coffee on a week to week basis. It’s just way too much. Then if you factor in the other warm, often breakfast-associated beverages that I consume throughout the day… tea, hot chocolate, the absurdity grows. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway, the plan/self-trickery goes as this: strong coffee desire comes, pull out the money, put in self-trickery jar, drink a glass of water. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I am hoping that the warm feeling I will get inside from helping others will replace the actual physical, cold, rather unpleasant feeling of drinking the curiously metallic-tasting water from any number of water fountains scattered about campus. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So if all goes according to plan, I will solely rely on the energizing good feelings, which come from charity and proper hydration to keep awake in class tomorrow. I will let you know how it goes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7665455985394511818-5105544568484258767?l=claireonabike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/feeds/5105544568484258767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7665455985394511818&amp;postID=5105544568484258767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/5105544568484258767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7665455985394511818/posts/default/5105544568484258767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://claireonabike.blogspot.com/2008/02/shameles-thanking-and-healthier.html' title='Shameless thanking and healthier caffeine free lifestyle'/><author><name>Claire Waller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886962679561534939</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_LC8CRgnGdcg/R6qn5rk9ktI/AAAAAAAAAAM/V6I1mLW1IPQ/S220/bike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
