Spontaneity is the spice of life ...

... I'm not saying which spice it is, mind you, I'm just saying it's a spice. Some spices are damn near revolting. Take dill for instance. Maybe not revolting, per se, but somewhat pedestrian.

Oh my gosh, did you just see that?! I just used the word 'pedestrian' in a derogatory fashion. I should have my bicyclist/pedestrian advocate license revoked and pummeled into powder .... hmmm, perhaps bicycle/pedestrian advocated license powder tastes better than dill.

Introduction over.

Spontaneity. I've decided that the notion that successful blogs must contain daily (at least) posts in order to be relevant and engaging is utter hogwash. It may be true, but, at least for me, it's hogwash in that there's no way in hell I can pull it off. Therefore I'm going with the old 'unpredictable' angle as a means of keeping you enthralled by the beautiful Guthrie bicycling experience.


'Unpredictable' also exemplifies what has become of Saturday mornings around G-town. The photograph to your left gives folks the general idea of what's prowling our victorian avenues. Observe the rebellious streak that seems to prevail among all the riders of the weekly 'Guthrie Coffee Cruise." The facial expressions alone practically scream "I just rolled through a stop sign." It's been rumored that many of the riders have begun stockpiling Public Enemy tunes on their i-pods, and if it wasn't for the mayor's participation, I might fear reprisals from the local law.

Guthrie = Amsterdam?

As I pedaled my way to work this muggy morning, I found myself transported, nay, transfixed, no wait .... transfigured! Just before the intersection of Division and Cleveland, a strange blip appeared in the upper left hand corner of my vision. At first it made complete sense that a misguided bug had mistaken my cornea for a beautiful flower ever ready to invite some pollinator in for breakfast.

But I felt no pain, no discomfort, so I quickly reworked my initial assumption and decided that this strange new blip within my sight line was actually some physical object out in front of me. It's at this point that my story becomes quite literary, at least for me, because what I was looking at was a mirror image of myself. There was a human being using a two-wheeled human-powered machine to get himself to work (or home from the bar ... let's not judge.)

Before I could fully grasp the import of this moment, the deus ex machina of my story appeared directly to my right ... another human being on a bicycle!! And this man, this prophet of cyclical depth and meaning, tipped his hat to me and said, "Good morning."

Good morning, indeed, my cycling friend. Good morning.

At this point in the story you should know that the Guthrie by Bike house band is really tearing it up with a melodramatic background tune. Wish you could hear it. The new pan flute player is just shredding that thing.

Define Hardcore:

I'll admit, I definitely don't fall into the "you have to wear obscene clothing to ride a bike" camp. But this dude not only snubbed his nose at the anatomically correct spandex wearers, he decided to go all garden club for okfreewheel this year. I saw him a couple times, and he always had a steady stream of sweat just pouring off the end of his nose. I wanted to ask him if he was planning on chopping wood at the end of each day's ride, but he was actually a bit intimidating. If a dude's gonna ride 400 plus miles in overalls and a flannel, I'm not sure I want to break that kind of focus.

Bike Farming

For urban farmers who need a bit more exercise ...

Golly, those Communists can accessorize!

I can't believe I forgot to include this pic in the last post. Not only was Vlad happy to oblige a smiling snapshot, but he insisted on modeling his sporty footwear as well. For a former kgb officer, his colloquial English was impeccable!

A Pictorial Freewheel Retrospective, or "Oklahoma, Too Freaky for Flannery O'Connor"

My first "Oklahoma by Bike" experience rendered scores of photographs, but I wouldn't want to bore folks with pictures of wildflowers (of which I took dozens) .... so ... I present to you a pictorial representation of my experience with idiosyncratic rural Oklahoma, ie, weird country stuff:
















For those of you who have seen There Will Be Blood, I'm pretty sure that same freaky preacher kid preaches at this church in Gene Autry, Oklahoma. For those of you who haven't seen the movie, I'm pretty sure that some freaky preacher kid preaches at this church in Gene Autry, Oklahoma. If not, then that's a shame.




















This is a photo I took just before the hurricane sent me scrambling to the nearest abandoned Stratford peach stand while Greek gods hurled lightning at me for the greater part of the morning. While sheltering, I had a bizarre conversation with a drenched garbage man, who spoke in some garbled dialect, unintelligible to myself. I spend 10 minutes nodding my head as he continued to ask me questions, none of which I understood. Eventually he smiled and hopped back in his truck, supposedly satisfied with the information I had given him.
















For those too cynical or jaded to believe in miracles anymore, I have just the thing for you. Go get yourself straightway to the Murray Co. Antique Tractor & Implement Assoc., because by god, that's "a place where miracles happen." I wish I would have had time to actually clarify what kind of miracles the Association lays claim to. The thought of a 1948 John Deer Tractor curing cancer just makes me aglow inside.















I took this photo just outside of Waleetka, Oklahoma. I realize that not nearly enough time has passed since the horrific events surrounding this little town, so I'll reserve any comments about local law enforcement for a later date. Until then, yes, that's a 15 foot tall police cruiser.















Forgive me for continuing to hurl jokes at rural religion, but if they insist on erecting "Endtime Revival Tabernacle" signs in front of corrugated metal buildings decorated with late-70's hubcaps, then it's out of my hands. At that point, better it come from someone with my sensitivity.















Communists?! On a bike ride?! I'm stunned. I can't believe I actually got to ride the OK Freewheel with Vladamir Putin. That dude can climb hills like nobody's biddness.

And there you have it. While some uber-athletes decided to conquer each day's ride with electrifying speed, I made the zen-like decision to patiently experience each of the hamlets along my path. While debilitating knee pain may have played a small part in my average speed of 4 mph, I prefer to think a thirst for a glimpse into the soul of America was my true guiding light.

Until next year ...

The Guthrie Coffee Cruise

Caffeine is such a cruel taskmaster. Not only does it demand our attention each morning, but for some it requires a chaser of bicycle riding. And that is why we have begun Guthrie's newest weekly ritual: The Guthrie Coffee Cruise.

Six of us met last Saturday morning and Winans, rode around town for bit, had a good time, talked about home improvement, aboriginal peoples in Brazil, sailing, and golden retrievers (not necessarily in that order). We'll be riding again this Saturday. Feel free to join us at Winans super fly chocolates and coffee at 9 a.m. We'll have a cup, chat a bit, then hit the mean Guthrie streets for a leisurely ride. Last week we rode up Oklahoma to the temple, over Highland Park, back to Harrison, returned to downtown, then over to Kent's shop, where we parted ways. Who knows where the wind will carry us this week.

Here's a shot of a few of us taking a pit stop at the Red Cross Bike Rodeo. Evidently, Guthrie Coffee Cruise participants are in some sort of witness protection program and cannot have their faces photographed.















Like I said, this ride is leisurely, ie, our priorities are as follows: drink coffee; sit, talk, and drink coffee; sit, talk, stare at bicycles; ride bicycles.