Gearing Up for the Fall

As the sun makes haste towards the southern hemisphere and the days get progressively shorter, I set my sights on easing into the best time of the year. No matter if you are on the east coast enjoying the first of the changing leaves under crisp blue skies, or out west where things tend to stay warm but the days take on a subtle perfection, this time of year calls for celebration. Breathe in that autumn air and prepare for the plentiful outdoor playing opportunities. Here’s why I say falling down is better.

Falling In. As a surfer, I am ecstatic that the doldrums of summer have departed and the swell is finally here (last week I broke yet another board while getting too amped on the inside). The water is still warm, so there are no excuses to shy away. For those of us who enjoy our favorite spots when they allow for some quite introspection, capitalize on the departure of the summer crowds.  I myself will make the most of the tranquility of fall by pairing a few camping trips with my surf sessions. Hop in your kayak, cast off you’re your sailboat, or find a river for your innertube; it’s time to get wet.

Falling into a Groove. For those of us who will be exploring locally, you can’t go wrong checking one of the lively outdoor events which are in abundance during the fall. From fairs to concerts, there is a ho-down in your neighborhood. I will be letting my inner hillbilly out at the world famous (and free!) Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco (October 2-4). Just a few festivals worth checking out this October:

The Austin City Limits Festival (aclfestival.com/) Austin, TX

The Blue Mountain Bluegrass Festival (www.bluemtnmusic.com/index.html) Collinsville, VA

Harvestfest 09 Shawnee Cave (www.cavefest.com) Carbondale, IL- a festival in a CAVE!

Three Sisters Music Festival (downtownchattanooga.org/threesisters/) Chattanooga, TN- FREE!

Crescent City Blues & BBQ Festival (www.jazzandheritage.org/blues-fest) New Orleans, LA- FREE!

Catalina Island Festival of World Music (catalinamusicfestival.com/index.asp) Avalon, CA

Just don’t try to out hula-hoop the wookie next to you, you look like an amateur and might pull a hammy.

Falling from Wagons. My next stop undoubtedly involves tasting the best of the season. Whether your downfall is a vicious sweet-tooth or the beginnings of that wintertime beer belly, the fall offers unparalleled palate filling bliss. As a beer fanatic I’m always excited to try a new pumpkin ale or Oktoberfest brew. This season I’m looking forward to tasting a seasonal beer from a great microbrewery which was born just downstream from Mt. St. Helens.

Pyramid Breweries’ Juggernaut Red Ale is described as “an American Red ale brimming with delectable caramel malts, delicious hops and an unquenchable spirit.” Yum, sounds like a winner. So whatever your favorite cuisine may be, take a moment to kick back with friends and family and cheers to the days of falling ahead.

Interbike 2009

Flying into Las Vegas always holds a singular dread: you can see, on the approach to McCarren, the hotels of the Vegas Strip shimmering in the smoky-hot Nevada desert.   You know you’re headed into the belly of the beast; you’re not only in Las Vegas — you’re headed into Vegas as a trade show attendee.  

You’re a mark; a tourist.  One of the babbling, drunken hordes that descend upon this freak of a city plopped in an arid wasteland, and your only functional utility is to spend your money and get out — hopefully with a modicum of dignity and with more than your emergency Andrew Jackson in your wallet with which to remember your stumbling visit.

The long walk from the middle-class lodgings of Treasure Island Casino & Hotel to the showfloor at the Venetian/Sands Expo is long, and confusing.  But the closer to the Interbike floor you get, the more reassured you feel.  A quorum of like-minded folks develop in the human stream of conventioneers.   You see more shaved legs.  You start seeing banners announcing Interbike’s presence, even as you fight through the throngs of Blue Tube ticket seekers.

Maybe you’re not just a mark.  Maybe you’re among your own kind.

Finally, you get to the center of it all.  Bikes appear in glass-enclosed showcases like the go-go dancers found in close proximity.  You’re surrounded by divergent types: tattooed freestyle huckers and sleek-legged roadies, all closing in on the Sands Expo.  But you all share ONE thing: you are all riders.

And when you’re finally in, Las Vegas disappears, and you’re in Biking Nirvana.

Exotic Italian nameplates beckon, their seatstays bowed like melted carbon taffy.  You overhear earnest conversations about seat tube angles.  You engage in lengthy conversations about gear ratios and moisture transfers (of the sweating kind…not the other kind).

You’re at Interbike, and though I wish the trade show was elsewhere….anywhere…Dubuque, or Nashville, or Albuquerque…you’re among your own kind.  And it’s good.   Pretty darned good. 

As long as you stay away from the casinos.

Swim for your life!

I’ve been toying with the thought of entering a Half-Ironman in October — an accomplishment that’s looking increasingly unlikely due to my customary paucity of training.  But last week my dear neighbor Carol flagged me down on our cul-de-sac and asked brightly, “Are you going to do the RCP Tiburon Mile?  I just entered!”

I’d actually been toying with the notion for years.  I grew up in Tiburon, and actually did my (only) two triathlons on Angel Island in 2004 and 2005, so it was immensely appealing.  Without thinking much, I said, “Yeah, that sounds great.  We can carpool!”

Inspired, I went for a 400 meter swim later that afteroon, and swam with the efficacy and grace of a camel.  It’s unlikely I’ll keep up with Carol anyway — she played varsity water polo at Stanford, for God’s sake — but now I’m worried that I’ll wind up halfway to Antioch or have to latch onto some sag kayak.

My editor at Competitor, Bob Babbit, who is actually more like my Mafia uncle than anything, was despairingly enthused when I brought it up to him.  “Drowning, shark attacks — I love that stuff!  Get me 1800 words!”

My last option out was the prospect of not getting a media entry, as I’ve become violently allergic to entry fees.  No luck: the event manager was the skilled and welcoming Christine Wilson, and she didn’t hesitate to sign me up.

So on Sept. 13th, I’ll be bobbing around the Bay in my wetsuit, with my surfboard nowhere in sight.  I’ll try to report back on the results, but I’m definitely not expecting a belt buckle, much less a prize check.