Posts tagged travel

Dreaming of Mecca, aka The Isle of Man TT

Thanks Kevin Rothwell for capturing the photo most like my dream, and sharing it!

Photo courtesy Kevin Rothwell via Creative Commons License

 

This morning I had the best dream- I was at the Isle of Man TT, which I’m finally going to in 2012. The only downside of the dream is I was also preparing my next project for the class I’m currently teaching on garment construction. But when I wasn’t doing that…

 

In the dream, there was also a MotoGP paddock, as if the TT were back on the schedule. Somehow I had access to Colin Edwards’ bike. Somehow I knew that if I disconnected the CPU, the bike would run solely on electric power. So I did, then later returned to Colin’s garage and rode off. I wasn’t even dressed to ride, and of course the streets were open to all traffic. But the bike was FAST and so much fun. I careened through the crowded streets and in my dream I was really in some mall (of course), so parts of my short laps were through a clothing store. It was pandemonium but the crowd loved it (as TT fans would). I loved showing them that a GP bike could be fast and fun even without gas. I did 3 “laps” around this little city block, then rode around some real streets.

Continue reading Dreaming of Mecca, aka The Isle of Man TT

Day in the Life…

Or rather, days. Just to clarify, here’s what I’ve been up to…

Eyes on the prize…

The past week has been such a blur, I can’t even recall if I blogged about this. Don’t think so, and due to the pinheads who control our access to the interwebs, I can’t check right now. But I’m pretty sure my last post was about riding in Texas. Which was awesome, especially when I scoffed at the Tesla guy at the Maker faire. He told me the top speed was a measly 125mph, I scoffed and he asked “when’s the last time you went over 125?” I had trouble remembering what day of the week it had been, and was clearly struggling to recall. So he said “Tuesday?” and I was like “yes, I think it was Tuesday, it must have been since I drove from Marfa, tx to Indio, California on Wednesday.” ;-)

So the prize. The prize is a pearl white Ducati 848, because I am no longer a size queen, and am interested in more rational types of motorcycles. Unfortunately, no pix with this one, but I will attempt to give this sexy beast justice with mere words. Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, with a (termignoni-assisted) voice that rumbles to the very depths of my soul, making me want to do whatever it takes to ensure she’s got a lifetime supply of sweet crude… She’s also tons of fun. I dropped by Ducati Beverly hills to say hi to my friends, and they immediately escorted me out the door onto their demo model. Well. The 848 was ecstatic everywhere, lanesplitting up la cienega, posing on sunset plaza, racing the fancy cars down sunset to Beverly glen, crawling up Beverly glen with rush hour traffic, even sitting at an interminable red light. The heat dissipates almost entirely to the crotch, so it’s a great bike for guys who want to be extra sure they’re not getting any surprise babies. Which is better than the R1, which literally cooks my legs.

The only problem was mulholland, where her excessively stiff factory setup made the endless bumps unbearable. But hey, that’s a $20 fix at the first track day.

So I’m a bit behind here, that was Thursday and since then I’ve driven to San francisco, gone to the maker faire, and am 2 days into the conference that may very well lead to the job that will enable me to run right out and buy this sexy beast. But don’t tell my R1 that. She did a great job getting me here, we had soo much fun. And she’s so good to me, even though I ignored the tow away zone sign and left her on the street in LA. It was bad enough to leave her on the mean streets of downtown LA all night, but then to subject her to the indignity of being schlepped to the pound for my mistake… Poor baby, I left a Ducati for her, and now it’s looking like I’m about to leave her for a Ducati.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

aaaaahhhhhhhh


my precious baby, originally uploaded by pinkyracer.

feels soooo good to get out and stretch my baby’s legs! Big Bend, TX is the perfect place to blow out the cobwebs on an R1, that’s for sure. Soft sweepers and big long straights and nobody around for miles. I thought about going into Mexico, even stopped at the border and asked if it was a good idea. The cop couldn’t tell me whether to go or not, but did choose to mention the day’s murder rate as an indicator. It was 1 today and 1 yesterday. Probably a tad higher (per capita) than LA. So I said “Is that due to the drug war we keep hearing about?” and he gave a very professionally noncommittal answer that suggested I was jumping to the right conclusion. So I turned around and headed into Big Bend park, thinking I’d do this fun little loop I saw on the map. Yeah. Like they do anything little in Texas…

That little loop is 231 miles, so instead I went back the way I came which was only 158 miles.
So I got a little ways into the park and realized I’d probably run out of gas long before I came upon a gas station. I pulled out my trusty iphone to consult google maps, to see if perhaps for some strange reason they had a gas station in this national park. When I saw that I had no signal, I knew the prudent thing would be to turn around and get some gas in Presidio, then enjoy the northbound route of the same road I’d taken. I hate to retrace my steps, but my complete lack of planning necessitated it. It was a better idea anyway, as I was able to completely avoid the thunderstorm brewing in the east. It was fun going through the double-check border station just outside of Marfa. I stopped, and the guard asked me “Ma’am, are you a US Citizen?” Since I look about as Mexican as Cameron Diaz, they took my “yeahhhh” at face value. :-)

travel tales

remind me never to drink an entire bottle of water with dinner. ouch. but it was such delicious water, and I was so very thirsty after driving from Dallas to Marfa. So I’m a bit behind here. It’s been a whirlwind of traveling, with nothing terribly interesting to report. Except what happened yesterday. Nervous about the long and lonely drive ahead, I did my best to prepare. I actually meditated Sunday morning, which was lovely and must happen more often. It’s likely to, now that I’ve also realized I’m ready to more actively pursue my interest in Buddhism.

So, I then stopped at the awesome food coop across from the Vortex in Little Five Points (We’re in Atlanta now, do try to keep up) and loaded up on all the agave-sweetened chocolate they had (so why the chocolate souffle at the restaurant tonight???). So I’m ready for a day of my absolute least favorite activity- driving a car in the USA, particularly in the South, where everyone just wants to mosey along enjoying the scenery. Well, imagine my delight when I spy a group of hitchikers with a very slick sign proclaiming "Dallas" only an hour outside Atlanta. I was like "Wait a minute…. I’m going to Dallas, too…!" They looked like harmless hippie kids so I safely pulled over about a mile down the road and walked back to let them know they had a ride (OK, not that far, but walking along the highway sure made it feel like a long way). They met me halfway and Aaron told me they were returning home after competing in the great hitchiking race.

My intuition told me they were legit, so they piled in and I continued to drive at first, to better get acquainted with my new chauffeurs before putting them to work. Soon after, I felt comfortable enough putting them in control and did not drive again until I dropped Pinkston off in Dallas the next morning. Aaron’s mom put us all up for the night in Van. A town named Van, not the vehicle. She lives next to some farm animals and an oil rig. Which remind me of the negotiations assignment where I was supposed to be representing an oil company that wanted to buy someone’s land without paying them what it could be worth. Judging by the quality of the homes in the area, nobody was getting cut into this deal. As a representative of the fictitious oil company, I could not lie or even withhold the truth, and let slip that we suspected there was something of value, so wound up giving the seller 10% of whatever we happened to sell that came out of the ground. Which was still below the max $ amount I was allowed to give up, as long as I didn’t give him 10% in perpetuity. I suspect the oil company that bought this patch of land had a much slicker negotiator on their staff.

In any case, the hitchikers were good kids, Emily is working on a master’s in geology, Pinkston is finishing his BA in film, and Aaron has a degree in communication and persuasion, which I’m sure is what’s facilitated his career as a professional hitchiker. I gave them my cards and told them to stay in touch. Then I drove to Marfa without incident. I love driving across Texas. The speed limit is 80 and there’s no traffic.

try to keep up…

Since I’m all over the map these days, I figured I’d just run through the schedule here so people who care can keep track:

March 28-31: Nice, France: The new code word for reminding me I’m about to embark on a really bad idea.
April 3-6: Valencia, Spain: World Superbike with Britt
April 8-11: Bilbao, Spain: Guggenheim, crazy Easter parades, Spa with circus people
April 20-29: Paris, France: Shop till ya drop with friends
April 30-May 4: Jerez de la Frontera, Spain: MotoGP!!!
May 7-12: Chapel Hill, NC, USA: Graduation!!!
May 13-20: NYC: beg for work, hang out, etc.
May 22-24: Atlanta: track day, hang out, enjoy springtime in the south
May 25-29: Express road trip to San Francisco via Marfa, TX with Yaron, if he can stand it again.
May 30: San Mateo, CA: Maker Faire with Dave and his critters
May 31-June 4: Monterey, CA: Sustainable Brands International Conference: beg shamelessly for work, make lots of new friends.
June 5-…depends on the efficacy of my begging efforts. ;-)

Bilbao during Santa Semana. no wait, first a word from my future… :-)

The story of Bilbao is a dull and rather existentialist one full of ennui and lonesome misery in the endless rain, which I can’t rush through. I will try to give it justice sometime tomorrow, but really think it’s more likely to spark a novel.

Right now, I’m in a better mood after rejoining my friends in Barcelona. I’m even grateful to be back in Raval,  because the muslims store owners see no reason to shut down on Easter Sunday, unlike all the devout Catholics driving this country deeper into financial ruin by taking damn near an entire week off for Easter. Speaking of which, I finally went to church in Barcelona! ;-)  Paddock Motard Bar (which I happen to live very close to, and you’ve read about before here), was open for Sunday services: to show the MotoGP races. They had set out all the chairs they had in rows facing the TV’s and the place was packed with rabid fans watching the 125 race when I arrived. It was awesome! Everyone was going crazy, and it felt so damn good to be somewhere in Spain where Easter didn’t seem to be bringing life to a grinding halt. However, mother nature brought MotoGP to a slippery halt, as it was rained out. grrrr. It rains like 4 days a year in Qatar, and it seems those 4 days are always when the GP is in town! They actually had to cancel the race because they run it at night to show off some fancy lights. The problem is: bright lights + rain = zero visibility. pffft. do it in tha daytime, people!

I’m more interested in keeping my eyes on the prize. Whenever I need a boost, looking at real estate in LA makes me happy. It’s a pleasant way of daydreaming about what I want in life, thinking about where I want to live next. So today’s entry is this third floor loft in the fabulous Barker building. I went to a party at a friend’s loft there in August (which feels like a million years ago) and fell in love with the place. The sexy rooftop pool/spa, the Urth caffe across the street, the whole downtown arts dist. vibe. Love it. Would sacrifice a private garage for it…

http://tinyurl.com/cod7uf


Salvtem Per Aqvem

Salvation through water. SPA. cool! I wonder if that’s actually how the word Spa was derived. Anyway, this hotel I’m staying at in Bilbao has the most awesome Turkish bath, filled with circus people. OK, so the circus (du Soleil!) people are hotel guests like me, but it’s still interesting. This Italian acrobatics coach invited me to dinner after the show, but since it didn’t include a free trip to see Varekai (again) I demurred. He’s old enough to be my dad, ok. I did, however, talk up my niece, as she is a killer gymnast, and could totally own Cirque Du Soleil.

More later, gotta get out and enjoy this gorgeous day!

Full Ben Spies Fan Club at Valencia

Here we are, with some Spanish chicks who had the good sense to bring along a giant American flag! Well, I brought the Gigsville cowbell at least. Every Texas boy needs a cowbell, no? I hope next year they have even more Ben Spies fans in Spain. Bummer about the crash, but he did a good job in race 2 on his B bike. Still need to inject that boy with some charm for his podium speeches, he’s so dry. But he definitely smiled when we made a big racket for him!

Palace of the Marques de Dosaguiaus

This is the cozy little palace next to the fabulous hotel Britt found for us. So gorgeous I couldn’t even bring myself to close the curtains on it at night, despite it being lit up like Christmas. more pix of it on flickr.