December 6, 2012

Upon reading my recent blog posts, my husband aptly pointed out that for a blog titled The Bike Wife, I’ve been severely lacking in bike related posting. Although he’s right, I have to come up with an reasonable excuse instead so that he’s not right. I’ve had no time to ride lately! Immigration papers, packing, moving, vagabond princess life, not to mention NZ wont let you in the country with dirty belongings, and I already hosed off my bike shoes. That would be 5 minutes of time, wasted!

(Side note, I don’t think I touched on that fact about dirty stuff and NZ customs. NZ has virtually no invasive species, and therefore doesn’t have a lot of the pests, of both flora and fauna varieties. They don’t want all of our bark beetles and star thistle and such, so all shoes, camping gear, bike tires, etc. must be cleaned so they look new. If they aren’t clean enough, the customs guy glares at you, takes your belonging, and dunks it in a bleach tank. Scott and his bike seat learned this the hard way back in 2011. And if they have to “cleanse” too much of your stuff, you have to pay to get your sopping wet bleach mess back. Incidentally, they also don’t have rabies down there, so if you wan’t to bring Fido or Fluffy with you, they have to be quarantined for 6 months and they’ll charge you $1,200 per pet for that service. Ruff.)

So since I have had a severe lack of exercise in the last 2 weeks and since I obviously have to defend my bike wife title, we went on a little ride. Scott’s mountain bike cleats are MIA and my shoes are ridiculously clean, so we decided to steal a couple of my dad’s bikes (I come by this honestly, he has 5) and rode down to the Benicia State Park, and then around downtown Benicia.
Benicia waterfront- my youth in a photo
I almost feel bad for Scott, because every time he’s been to Benicia in the last 6.5 years (so 20 times?) I play tour guide and point out every place of interest I can think of. See that house? That was my best friend’s boyfriend’s house. See that park? That’s where everyone in high school went to get high. See that hill? We used to walk up that and hang out under those trees, etc. I almost feel bad for him. I feel like he’s probably heard several of the stories several times, but I can’t refrain from telling a story when it pops into my mind – I mean, what if he hasn’t heard it? I’m sure his existence wouldn’t really be complete without knowing all the inconsequential details of my adolescent life. 
So after pointing out the closed down burger joint that my dad wants to turn into a tiki bar, as well as my favorite shortcut to drive on to avoid high school traffic, we finally just cruised around downtown and enjoyed the Christmas cheer and the sunset.

Being that we’re in the middle of winter and the daylight hours are short, it got dark on us for the 400ft climb back up to my folk’s house. 400ft isn’t that gnarly of a climb, but when it’s all done in under a mile, it’s a steep little jaunt.
So here I am, out of breath, drinking wine and eating cheese and chocolate, as these are actually proven to be the best recovery foods on the Earth. We’re about to enjoy another night with my folks before we head over to Novato, CA to spend the weekend with Scott’s parents and our friends on that side of the bay. Scott will enjoy all of his home bike trails, but I will have to seriously consider whether it’s worth it to ride, or keep those shoes looking brand new.

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