This image is a combination of almost everything I find aesthetically appealing and all of my favourite genres of photography.
More importantly, it's a reminder during this period where I'm struggling to find motivation and purpose in almost every aspect of my life that my vision has tunneled to the detriment of pretty much everything that doesn't spin on two wheels. The "portfolio" section of this site that contains work like this has remained static and dormant for a period of time measured in years and that makes me sad. But also, determined.
Here's to a little less bike and a little more of everything else in the near future.
Nothing goes according to plan
Took a little day trip down to Washington to climb Hurricane Ridge. The plan was to head down on Saturday morning, do the climb, camp out, and then sneak in another ride somewhere on Sunday before heading back.
The departure for the trip down was made at a (relatively) reasonable hour and was uneventful. Instead of paying the exorbitant BC Ferries rate, we drove through Anacortes and took the much better priced Coupeville-Port Townsend ferry. Even with the drive time and fuel cost, we still came out ahead compared to passing through the Island. Alex and I enjoyed pretty much perfect weather for the entire day: sunny, but a cool 20°C with a slight breeze and were able to enjoy a very recently repaved road up to the summit.
Camping plans didn't quite pan out, so huge thanks to Julie for enduring a long late night drive back to Vancouver.
5/7. Would do again.
One last hurrah for summer
I don't exactly remember when my first trip to Portland was after I moved to the PNW, but I do remember hearing my friends and co-workers hype it up after I had settled into life here and began looking for adventures. My cycling buddies loved it for its bike-friendliness. My non-cycling friends loved it because of the food, drink, and tax-free shopping.
Since that first trip, I've tried to return at least once every year. In the past, I've tried to time the visit to coincide with various shop garage sales, but there didn't seem to be one happening this year. I've also wanted to visit the famous beach(es) of the Oregon Coast and see some big-ass rocks.
After roping Tobin in, finding a sweet AirBnB, loading up two bikes into the back of my tiny Civic (without a rack), off we went after work on Thursday evening. I'd given him plenty of grief for traveling on a long weekend across the border without a Nexus pass, but I was actually the one who came this close to screwing up the trip before it had even begun: we were sitting in line at the border crossing talking about something or other related to travel documents and as I'm opening my passport to the photo page in preparation to present to the agent, I notice that my passport expired back in April. Merde. I'd actually considered not bringing my Nexus card considering that I wasn't going to be able to use the dedicated lane, but am glad I brought it along anyway.
Once through the border, we made our obligatory stop at Aslan Brewing in Bellingham for dinner and then continued the long drive down the I-5. There aren't too many exciting details here as we arrived in Seaside, OR around midnight, checked into our motel, and promptly hit the sack. We were greeted by a nice salty mist in the morning, a far cry from the sunny weather that had been forecasted. After rolling down the boardwalk to get some mediocre coffee, we decided to hit the road and make our way to our planned destination: Canon Beach.
Sure, there are beaches in Vancouver. There's even a cool rock, but it's not really that big. And there's only one. Maybe it was vacation placebo effect, but the sand felt "beachier" there. The views of the coast coming in and out of view as the lighting shifted with the clouds and the mist was spectacular. The ground was firm enough closer to the water that we were able to ride along. We resisted challenging tourists to "beach crits." Sure, the combination of salt water and sand probably wasn't ideal for two guys riding steel bikes, but whatever. Prudence be damned. Sometimes you just want to act like a kid again and go splash in the water. Totally worth it.
Our original plan was to stay in Canon Beach until dark, light a bonfire, make smores, sip bourbon, stargaze, and sing Kumbaya, but decided we'd rather get a head start on the drive to Portland so we wouldn't have to do it in the dark. We didn't have a firm itinerary for the weekend aside from two planned rides, the first of which was the Forest Park / Skyline Loop. If the Seymour Demo Forest road had a ménage-à-trois with the climb from Mulgrave School to First Lookout and any of the trails in Stanley Park, this is what you'd end up with: 5.5km of relatively packed down dirt and gravel climbing upward at an average gradient of about 5% with absolutely no vehicular traffic allowed. A little slice of heaven just outside the city limits. From there, the route takes us through rolling rolling rural roads before dropping us back down some nice twisty descents (including tunnels!) back into the heart of town.
Our only other planned outing was to go climb Mount Hood. This part of our trip could have gone...better. My over-zealous planning for an early morning start in order to: a) avoid any vehicular traffic on the drive to the mountain as well as up the climb itself and b) to ensure we still had an afternoon to spend in town meant setting the alarm for 6AM and getting to the base at 8AM. Avoiding traffic on the climb was actually a moot point since we'd planned on ascending a Old Leg Road (a service road used for the OBRA uphill TT Championships) instead of the Timberline Highway route. What we didn't account for were the temperatures associated with a starting elevation of 1,379m. The plus side is that I was greeted by a perfect combination of misty roads punctuated by golden hour light, resulting in one of my favourite things: #angelboners. Instead of risking hypothermia, we ended up driving up the highway route and parking at Timberline Lodge, descending a good chunk of Old Leg Road and then climbing back up. It wasn't quite what we had in mind, but probably better for, you know, not dying.
Finally, I leave you with this collection of random images from the trip that didn't quite fit into their own galleries, but can roughly be divided into some distinct categories:
- Tobin using Google Maps.
- Tobin drinking things.
- Coffee.
- A rather inadequate collection of #baaw
- Our AirBnb hosts' cat: Apollo.
Superweek 2016
Another Superweek has come and gone and I don't have a lot to show for it, as far as photos go. This will be the first time in three years I haven't made a concerted effort to get media access to the Gastown Grand Prix and looking back at it, I'm OK with that. No pressure to get the shot and no pressure to get images up right away.
Instead of running around the course with a full-sized DSLR and a giant F2.8 telephoto zoom elbowing my way through the crowd to get to the front, I was able to hang out with a couple of buddies on a corner with my OM-D and a 90mm equivalent and my Ricoh GR with its 28mm equivalent, leisurely enjoying a burrito. Part me missed being in the thick of things, but I think a bigger part of me was also glad to be able to actually sit back and enjoy the race as a spectator. Next year, I may go back to lurking in team alley looking for the candid shots that were always my favourite part of seeing other photographers' race coverage, but I don't think I'll be going back to playing action sports photographer any time soon.
I did manage to grab a few keepers from the Gastown GP and Giro di Burnaby though, so it wasn't all a loss.
Half-baked.
I try and make my way up Mount Baker to Artist Point at least once every season. Given this year's snowfall, I'd been eagerly awaiting the upper road to be opened to the public, but travel during the last two weekends has kept me away, so I missed opening weekend on June 23.
There's a constantly updating shot list I keep in my head and after seeing this image from Kristoff Ramon earlier this season, I knew I wanted to head up to do my own take on it.
Giro '16 - Stage 6. Credit: Kristoff Ramon.
The forecast for today was supposed to be sunny, but that was definitely not the case. As we left Vancouver, we were greeted by an intermittent drizzle that turned into a steady drizzle as we neared the border. By the time we got to Sumas, it had turned into a steady light rain. My friend turned to me from the passenger seat and asked if I wanted to keep driving. Plan B was to start the ride at North Fork Brewery, but as the rain continued, we moved on to Plan C and starting from the base of the climb at the Glacier Ranger Station.
Our luck with weather on this trip never seems to work out completely, but we were thankful that the rain dialled itself back to drizzle and even stopped for a while as we ascended. The top of the mountain was completely socked in though, so all we saw up top was 50 shades of grey. The mist and the temperature at the top meant that nobody wanted to stand around for long, let alone set up for any of my photos, so we quickly turned around and started the descent. Visibility wasn't terrible and despite the damp air and roads, the way down wasn't as treacherous as I thought it'd be.
Oh well. There's always next year.
