TINY MANGO PIES! But first, some other things.

It's been awhile, no? A lot's been going on. I went back home to visit, and had a final dinner at Susur. And while I am sad his Toronto location is closing (Lee isn't the same, kids), I am excited to see what he opens in NYC.

The Toronto weekend was incredibly fun. I heart being happy like that.

What else? Oh, I'm riding a lot. On my bike. AND ON A HORSE. That's right, Jen, Allison and I started horseback riding lessons yesterday. We all spent hours on horseback as children, but - well, we're children no more. Loving it. LOVE.

And on to the pies.

Because we can't help but fall in love with awesome, tiny food, Jen and I decided to steal this idea from NotMartha and make tiny pies in 4oz jars this afternoon. Jen took the first 3 pictures, and I took the rest.

I give you: Wee Mango Pies

Decision of a Century

For the past couple of weeks, I've been toying with the idea of doing a Century Ride - 100 miles (161 km - I'm still so very metric) of road cycling in one shot. I figure that since I've been pushing out 25 mile rides at a moderately easy pace post-weight training session that 100 miles is a do-able goal.

So, I've been toying with the idea - until I ordered The Complete Book of Long-Distance Cycling from Amazon. Even though 25 miles is easy to do, 100 miles, I know, is a different animal, and it's something that I'm going to need to train for, and learn how to fuel myself for.

September seems like a good goal to work towards. You all better hold me to it.

Totally unrelated, here's an obligatory what I made over the weekend food photo.




Regard, the mostly organic Chewy Oatmeal Raisin cookie. I modified the recipe to use whole wheat flour, add cinnamon and up the raisin factor.

Flat Columbus, Guitar Straps, Gore (Al), and Pottery Pictures

Ah, Flat Columbus. So Columbus? She is flat. Very, very flat. I never really noticed until I started cycling it's streets.

This morning, my friend Andrea and I went out. It's nice to ride with someone else. Anyway, we went at a fairly easy pace and managed to lay down 33 km / 21 miles in 1.5 hours. It was excellently sunny, though chilly enough for me to require a t-shirt under a long sleeve shirt under a jacket. Because I am a pansy. Cycling up North High, we saw a few excellent things, including Just Pies (which will need a sit down and eat visit), and the revelation that Columbus demands flags - or so two flag stores (including The Flag Lady!) located within two blocks from each other led met to believe.

***

Help me choose a guitar strap, please.

Blue/Green seatbelt:



Black with White Polar Bears seatbelt:


Black with Red Stars fabric and seatbelt, like this but, ah, black with red stars:


***

Next Sunday, my friend Julie and I are going out to see the lovely Al Gore speak. As much as many of us wish that things had fallen differently in the US federal election o' 2000, I can't help but think that Gore has become a much more powerful figure of change then he would have been underneath the constraints of a federal government. As an aside, I will probably be forced to tell the Internet as a series of tubes joke that day. Sorry.

***

I promised to post pictures of fired ceramics, didn't I? Never say I don't follow through.

Here is my favourite, though I do admit, it is in poor taste.



And the rest:

I Saw Sunlight On Saturday

and it made me happy from the inside-out.

Sweet Baby Jesus, it's amazing what an afternoon spent in the sun can do to your head. Add on to that an excellent day spent shopping with a fun friend, and it's easy to believe that all is right with the world.

I made sure to store up a mess of that feeling inside, and my drunken-sunshine state carried me through most of today's greyness. But now I'm all out, and seem to be suffering from a sunlight hangover.

But talking about this afternoon, I spent some time out at roll:, getting some hands-on experience in changing flats, and adjusting gear and brake line tension. Believe it or not, in the past few years that I've been riding, I've never had a flat tire - I put it down to the fact that, excepting last year, all of my road cycling had been on a mountain bike, with tires that probably could've carried a monster truck down the street. Still, not an excuse for knowing-how-but-not-doing, so I'm glad I got to remedy it today.

PS: I am in full-on covet mode for a Mike and Chris bone-coloured light weight leather jacket that has no business being so expensive, or looking at me the way it does. And I will be actively avoiding stepping into Jinny's for the next couple of months, until leather jackets are too heavy to wear and it disappears.

This is How We Roll(:)

When you move to a new city, you have to find replacements for things and places that were yours in your old home. Sometimes you're disappointed (see: Columbus grocery stores in general), and sometimes, the things and places you find far exceed what you're used to.

A few weeks ago, my friend Andrea was considering purchasing a bike from one of her friends. Being the pushy monkey that I am - and very much wanting her to buy a bike that would be just right for her, so she'd love it and never want to get out of the saddle - I was insistent that she get professionally fit to make sure that all that the frame had going on would be right for her body.

On suggestion from a co-worker, we made our way up to roll:. And the store? So damn excellent that I forgot to be annoyed by the colon. Store design aside, though it does, indeed, have an excellently cool look and layout, the place just felt good on stepping through the door. The people who work there are incredibly approachable and equally knowledgeable about bikes and the act of cycling. And, on top of that? It's the first bike shop that I've set foot in that has women on staff. That's right, more then one. And they ride, too.

So, last week when I saw spring starting to peak around the corner, I took my sweet baby in for a spring tune-up, and took advantage of their crazy laser body scanner to set up my bike to a bit more of an aggressive stance. And I can't wait for it to be warmer then 0C in the mornings so I can get out on the road.

Dear Spring, where are you?

Anyway, I'm looking at the body scan printout right now, and I feel like I could confidently take this information to a seamstress and get some excellent bespoke clothing made. Is it wrong that before Friday, I had no idea how wide my shoulders were, how long my arms were or the length of my inseam? Oh dear, this is somewhat dangerous information to have, indeed.

Long Weekend Cycling is Dangerous

It's true! Last year, on this exact same long weekend, I found myself dodging banana peels flung from cars. This year? Ah, we'll get to that momentarily.

One of the routes that I ride on takes me right on by Bronte Creek Provincial Park. Along with the campgrounds located on the far side of the park, there is also a day-use area that opens to visitors at 8AM. En route to pass the Day Use Entrance, I could see a mess of cars parked on the gravel shoulder of the road, waiting to enter the park and get their Civic Holiday Weekend Day Party on.

The stretch of Bronte Road that borders the park is an excellent, straight, flat stretch of street - perfect for a sprint. However, the thing about road riding is that you're always constantly on the look out for things that might go wrong in the path ahead of you. So, the need to sprint, and 10 or so cars parked on both sides of the road. The only solution? Start gaining speed, and flip from aware to hyper-aware, and begin to anticipate the possibilities and plan reactions to all of them.

In front of one of the cars on the right side of the road stood a couple, talking, cups of coffee in-hand. In fact, they stood, talking, on the line where gravel shoulder turned into paved road. And in my head, I could see them make the decision to step onto the pavement, and cross the street.

Real life was a little different. As I hurled myself down the road at 40 km/h, I saw the woman step back, away from the road. And the man, he took a step forward. And then another. And stopped. And took a sip o' joe. And stood there, feet firmly planted, looking everywhere but in the direction of on-coming traffic.

Have I ever told you about how much I hate to yell? Passionate, passionate dislike. Avoid it whenever I can.

I yelled. I yelled, "WATCH OUT!"

The man slowly swivled his head, and a huge, shit eating grin spread across his face as he slowly stepped back onto the shoulder of the road as I zipped by. First thing that flew through my mind? Someone got an early start on the drinking.

Although I didn't look back to see what happened after, Jason, my brother, was riding a bit behind me. When he caught up at our usual slow-down-and-hydrate stretch of road, he told me that the lug of a man had immediately stepped BACK onto the road. And gave him the same ear to ear smile when Jason, more eloquent then I, shouted, "Get the fuck out of the road!" as he came up to his position.

Roads are the new sidewalks. Who knew?

Do you like how I made a complete non-event sound all crazy dangerous? It's a gift.

Sweet, Sweet Chicago, Day 1.5

Chicago makes me smile. That's pretty much the best thing that any city can do, I think. So I guess it's a pretty good thing that that's where I am right now.

I arrived mid-afternoon yesterday, and was promptly whisked away from the utility vest wearing masses at O'Hare by my lovely, lovely friend Lisa. We headed into the city to check me in at my hotel, and headed off in search of CYCLING GOLD.

Matt, Lisa's husband, rides bikes. And when I say he rides bikes, I don't mean that he meanders about the roads like I do, I mean that he gets his ass in races and he picks up points, and sometimes performs magic tricks at the same time. Last night, we all headed down to the velodrome just outside of the city to watch some excellent athletic craziness go down. There's nothing finer then sitting outside with friends you haven't seen in person in a good year watching people ride around and around in circles, sometimes at speeds that make your head spin.

Also, athletic feats provide excellent fodder for the mocking. Because we are horrible, horrible people. Dry humping and disco? I can't even begin to tell you about it.

This morning, after the gym and food shopping for breakfast at Fox and Obel - yes, I've gotten to that point where I've traveled so much that I refuse to eat every meal in a restaurant - I walked on down to the Navy Pier for the start of the BlogHer 07 conference. Where I am now. Blogging. Because I am an utter, utter nerd. In my defense, however, the welcome session that's occurring at this very minute has devolved into what I can only describe as a 700-person theatre game masked as an introduction tool.

Theatre games give me hives. And instead of being a useful tool, they make me feel like a tool. So I have retreated to one of the session rooms, and am patiently waiting for the session-y bits of the day to start.

This evening, we're going to see if the excellently hirsute Rick Bayless' restaurant Frontera Grill will allow us to sample their wares. This is where I clap like a goon.

Oh, people are starting to wander into the room! So post this I will, and see you in a bit, kids.

Please Don't Stalk Me

But if you want to join me when I take to the road on my bike, here's what my most recent routes have been looking like. All are a little over 60 minutes, and vary between 20 - 30 km (that's 12 - 18 miles for you imperial measurers).


Hill Ride #1




Hill Ride #2




Hill Ride #3




And a relatively Flat Ride #1

I Have a New Robot

One of my dearest, funniest obsessions are robots. Whether it's doing the robot, telling people about the wonder that is Robot Frank, or pretending that the things I buy just might be robots in disguise, I feel like this one is a healthy and hilarious obsession. Unlike the one I have with pirates. Which just gets me into trouble.

The newest addition to my robot family is the Cat Eye Astrale 8. She sits, perched on the handles of my bike, telling me the distance I've peddled, the speed I'm barreling along at, the maximum speed I've hit on a ride, the average speed, how long I've been peddling for, the actual time o' day, and, most importantly, the cadence of my peddling.

This morning, I went out on a hill ride, and started training myself to keep a constant cadence -
peddling more or less forcefully, and switching gears up and down to keep an effective and efficient ride. And it freaking ruled.

Apropos of nothing, here's a confession: I'm currently watching a reairing of the Miss Universe Pagent for two reasons:

• Judges Nina Garcia and Marc Bouwer
• The below fall:

Have Bike, Will Travel

Oh, cycling, how I love it. How I love going fast. How I love having the ability to make myself go fast. And to aid my need (my need for speed), I've decided that I need to upgrade from my mountain bike to a road cycle. In the next couple of weeks, I'll be trying on a bunch of frames for size and feel, and I quite seriously can't wait.

One nice thing about professional cycling lines is that they've started producing women specific frames...Not girlie frames with the silly top bar set differently then normal bikes, but normal frames scaled to a woman's body. Basically, a woman's centre of gravity is different then a man's, and a WSD brings handles closer to seat which allows for a more natural and balanced ride and more control when cornering (fast).

I'll be trying on WSD models from Giant, Trek and Cannondale on for size, as well as non-WSD compact frames that suit my small stature.

It's almost approaching a bespoke bicycle. But you didn't hear that from me.