The prizes?  Health and sanity are pretty highly valued, and they get a boost.  You get some bragging rights,  I for example have logged 60 miles already this month, and that doesn’t include any of the errand running I’ve included into my commute.  Your fuel budget gets some relief.  

Basically it’s a nice fun way to get involved and feel part of something.  And September has pretty outstanding bike weather. Unfortunately www.bikecommutechallenge.com has been having some technical difficulties, and it’s been taking some pretty hard hits from some folks on the Portland bike forums, @ bikeportland.org.  Ach, I might just start driving. Okay, so that’s not likely. But they just went back online, so all is well. Did I mention the weather?  Twice in the last week it was so nice, I had to stop on the dock down by the east bank esplanade just to gaze at the water and the city; like glass.  Most pleasant.   Anyhow we’ve got several weeks left so get on your bike, and try riding to work.

Now east-county is pretty much bandit country as far as us townies are concerned, and thus I was on my very best behavior.  At the end of my southern traverse through Troutdale, I turn westbound onto 26 and I’m trying to merge to turn left onto Powell blvd.  Since we were coming up to a red light and everyone was slowing down, I figured its as safe as it’s ever going to be, so I look over my shoulder, signal to make a left, look again and start pedaling across the traffic at about a 35 degree angle.  Across 2 lanes, I look left again, see that it is clear, signal (again) and start to merge into the left turn lane.  Remember we are coming up to a red light,  so the driver of a Maroon Toyota Tacoma, with tires just big enough to say “I’m a conformist”, is apparently quite upset that I’m going to make him stop 8.5 feet back from his intended stopping point.  Instead of slowing at a sensible rate he takes the opportunity to ride right up on my rear wheel.  This cat is so close, that I can hear the fan of his engine.  When we start going again, he passes by me and shouts some unremarkable obscenities of the type you might expect from a truck driving Neanderthal with the sort of sense of entitlement people in jacked up trucks invariably seem to possess.  Anyway, remember I’m on my best behaviour out here cuz of the aforementioned banditry, so I say nothing; at the time.

And because I’m so big sitting here in the comfort and safety of my office, now is the time to speak.  If you see a late model Maroon colored Toyota Tacoma with an Oregon License Plate LEW-1, give him a wide berth cuz he’s a menace,  but absolutely do not surrender your rights to this pea-brain.  If you are the owner of this vehicle, you’re an ass, you’re on record for reckless endangerment and your girlfriend thinks you have a small willy. 

  All in all it was a great ride, I’ve never actually been out that far on the Springwater corridor and it is a particularly nice resource if you like to walk or cycle or ride horses (although the latter can be rather unpleasant for the first two).  Very pretty, and I highly recommend it for anyone of any riding ability.  Its flat wide, nice scenery (if you like quail, turkeys, horses and llamas).  East of the 205 freeway, at least 95% of the stop signs have been aligned to provide uninterrupted travel along the cycle-path. The only bad part of the day was that I cut the ride short due to a chilly soaking I got when I rode into lents. 

This handsome fellow is my cat Pixel, He’s a Ragdoll, and about 1 year old.  After several weeks of searching, several interviews and a fairly heart rending visit to the humane society, we settled on him.  However, sourcing your new baby from non-professional has it’s risks and we found out later that he was only about 4 weeks old when we brought him home, instead of the 8 we were promised. 

This is how Pixel looked the day we brought him home.  He certainly looks none too sure of his new environment.

Soon he was wandering around like he owned the place.   Like most kittens he went through his own ugly fuzzies stage.

Pixel collapses after an exhausting evening trying to get my fixie conversion up and running:

Pixel the Cat has been a great addition to our family, but as our other four-legged family members are getting a bit too old and surly to deal with a youngster and all of his energy, we set out to find him a dog of his own, to keep him company during our long days at work.  The criteria for this was simple: Not a Puppy, Small to Medium Size: A breed with good long-term health prospects.  Not aggressive, not a neurotic barker. Low Cost: and absolutely Must Love Cats.  Again, a long patient search lands us another Craigslist miracle. Koda: The Rat Terrier.

What do you know, they are best pals.

But you can’t stay a kitten forever, and adolescence beckons. Already his colors are really starting to fill in.

Cooky Dohz? What Cooky Dohz? I’m not eating dohz.
This is one of my favorite pics.  One can see that I has deactivated the kitteh, using ancient Vulcan technique.

Ragdoll Cats don’t possess the instinct for self-preservation, or self-defense so it’s imperative they remain strictly indoor cats.  So to keep him stimulated, and to save our furniture, we got Pixel one of those ‘ugly’ cat trees.  Tell me this…When were children’s toys strewn about the house EVER featured in a Better Homes and Gardens spread?  He loves it, and that’s all that matters.  At least it’s not Hot Wheels under (bare) foot.

So we’ve just passed his one year birthday, and our boy is getting big, but Pixel is a strictly indoor cat and despite an average spoiled child’s closet of toys and inside jungle gym; like any adolescent he is prone to sulking in fits of boredom.

So I have spent the last three months enclosing our porch so he visit us outside, but remain safe.

He certainly looks like he’s adjusting.