COUNT IT!

Well, what do you know? I can add one more moment in my life where I can say I'm proud of myself... 13.1 miles in 2 hours 20 minutes. No, I didn't break any records or come close to the front of the pack, but Suda and I kicked that half marathon's ass.

There were definitely times when I wanted to walk... my legs were tired and there were A LOT of hills. But, every time I thought about walking, I had to remind myself that it was all mental. That if I was ever going to do a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike and 13.1 run, I was going to have to learn to get mentally tough.

Suda was my rock. Without saying a word, she got me through the mental lulls and pulled me through some tough spots. She'd hold out a hand so I would run to her, she'd point out the grandma ahead of us... a lot of the little things.

I sang to Suda as we climbed this huge hill. And then we laughed - this is why she is so great. We smile and we take in the beauty that surrounds us and we let that energy carry us through. Because if you aren't having a little fun and taking in the world around you, what is the point?

And afterwards, as we were driving out to croquet on Sunday, I was telling Suda how lucky we are to be able to do something like this. We are athletic, we are athletes. We're all born with the bodies we were given and sometimes genetics is a bitch. I'm broad shouldered and big legged, with a big belly (I love my belly). But you know what - this body can do things that so many people can't. I can take a late hit from the most of vicious flankers over and over again, I can kick the shit out of a ball and make the opposition back three regret that they underestimated me, I will hit that tiny little gap you thought you could defend, I can swim a mile in 25 minutes, and I can run 13.1 miles without training.

Now, this whole "no training" business has kind of worked out for me so far... but imagine what I could do if I actually stuck to a schedule and allowed my body to get ready for these things. And that's what that whole goal-setting blog was all about. I'm still doing okay with training. 2 weeks into it and I missed Sunday... because I ran 2 1/2 hours on Saturday and decided that mimosa's and croquet sounded like a much better idea ;-). And today I just rode 800 miles on my motorcycle and so I'm going to blow off training... but that's the only time I'm going to make excuses for not sticking to the schedule.

In the words of the Great Eminem...

Cause sometimes you just feel tired.
You feel weak and when you feel weak you feel like you wanna just give up.
But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength
and just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up
and not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face
and collapse.

Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out
Till my legs give out, cant shut my mouth.
Till the smoke clears out, am I high? perhaps...
Ima rip this shit till my bone collapse.


Training log for the last week:

Monday - biked 20 miles, swam 2000 meters with the Portland Tri Club. I started with the slow kids and after I was lapping everyone in my lane, I moved over the medium... FUN and challenging. I like swimming though, so I'm hoping to get a good head start over those damn fast runners come race day.

Tuesday - ran 4 miles, swam 1200 meters.

Wednesday - biked 20 miles

Thursday - ran 3 miles, swam 1000 meters.

Friday - rest day

Saturday - ran 13.1 miles in 2 hours 20 minutes.

Sunday - croquet and mimosas :)

Monday - 800 mile moto ride.

And pics from the Rockin' and Rollin' Weekend in Seattle (complete with Pool Party, Pikes Place Market and Sunday Croquet)

Work it on out...

I very rarely feel proud of myself - in fact, I'm the queen of guilt trips. I can probably count on one hand all the times I was proud of my accomplishments in life. I'm more apt to blame myself for everything. I worry about how I've let people down or how my lack of patience has pushed so many people out of my life or why I can't work a little harder at things in my life. I am constantly filled with regret and remorse and "could of-should of-would of".

I look for reassurance in those around me - I need someone to pat me on the back and say I'm doing okay. I've never been one to find that within myself. That sense of accomplishment comes from my teammates high fiving me, or my coach hugging me after a big win.

I have NEVER, repeat, NEVER been an individual athlete. My whole life I've played team sports. Starting at 4, when I lied about my age so I could play t-ball with the big kids. I've played softball, basketball, volleyball, rugby, even when I did track, it was never about me, but about earning points to win the meet. I trained or worked out purely because I did not want to let my teammates down. Fear of failure has been my motivation throughout most my life - not the need to succeed, but the fear of letting my teammates, my friends down.

And I've never been an endurance athlete - I HATE(D) running with a passion. So much so, that when I was in track (I was thrower - shocking, I know) and we'd have to do our 2 mile runs, I'd fake sick or hurt. I was pathetic. I was scared to run on the open road. The thought of just me and the road gave me such high anxiety that my heart rate would be at 170 before I even started the run.

Then it happened... last summer, my LDBFF convinced me to do a half marathon with her. I was super hesitant. In fact, I laughed at the mere thought of me running for 13.1 miles. I had never ran more than 4 at one time (and that was on a treadmill, in the safety net of the gym). But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had labeled myself a "non-runner" and I HATE labels - I hate being pigeonholed. So, it was up to me to break my own stereotype I had created for myself. I was going to do it.

And so for 8 weeks, I ran. I started off with 3 miles - up the road and back. I thought I was going to die. I didn't have any music and it was dark, cold and rainy. Not the best way to start off this new experiment. But the next day, I popped my earbuds in and headed out for another run. And then each day after that I kept going.

People talk about the "runner's high"... I have yet to experience that. I know I am not built to run - I'm a big girl. My knees hurt the entire time, my back aches and I sweat like race horse. Its just not a pretty sight. But the point is, I did it. I ran my first half marathon in January - my time wasn't stellar, but I did it. When I crossed the finish line, I looked around desparately for someone to hug me and tell me how great I did... but there was no one there. For 2 hours I wandered around trying to find someone to congratulate me. I should have been on cloud 9, but instead, I sat down on the ashpalt and I cried. It was then that I realized it was just me. I needed to be proud of myself for doing this. I needed to find it within myself to congratulate me and hug me and love me because no one else was going to.

Emotionally, mentally, physically, this has been a tough week for me. I've been doing too much reminiscing about the past and that is a sure fire way to put me in a funk. But then I go for a bike ride, or a swim or even (gasp!) a run and things seem to feel better for awhile. Exercise has never been a release for me... eating is usually my go-to when I'm feeling down. But I'm noticing that when I do summons up the energy to go for a swim in the Willamette, or plant my sore ass on my bike for another long ride, or convince my head not to walk during my 8 mile run, after I'm done, I feel happy, energized, proud of myself.

So, there you have it - perhaps this is the dawn of a new era for me. I'm not saying I love running, but I don't hate it anymore. And maybe, just maybe, if I can keep up this training, I might actually find that elusive "runner's high".

5th Annual Roselawn Carnival Recap

Another successful Roselawn Carnival put on by Sherri Pie and Erin.15 years from now, when Sherri is hosting the 20th Annual Carnival in the middle of the Nevada desert and tickets are sold out months in advance, I will be proud to say I was there when it all began (sort of). I missed the 1st Annual Carnival, (don't ask, lame excuse) but I assure you, it is the first and only time I'll miss out on this backyard party.

The weather held up and we only experienced a couple light sprinkles, which seemed appropriate given the "Depression Era" theme for this year. New to Carnival this year was the Last Regiment of Syncopated Drummers who performed the Opening Ceremony Parade down Roselawn St all the way to 9th Ave (for those of you not familiar with Sherri Pie's street - its about 50 yards from her house to 9th Ave or the equivalent of 3 house lots.) Traffic was diverted as we turned around and headed back to Sherri's house. The drumline then played for another 5 minutes in the open lot next to thee midway. The entire neighborhood was out to enjoy the show. Sherri does a great job of including everyone in the fesitivities.

After the parade, the Strongmen were getting themselves prepped for the big competition. The first event was the ever-popular "spin-around-a-bat-and-run-with-a-tire". The first contestant spun around 5 times and was not phased at all... so we changed the rules and made everyone spin 10 times. I could watch this all day long. Nothing is more funny then watching grown men stumble sideways while carrying a tire down to a doggie bed. I'm not sure what was better though - watching Murray take a header face first into the grass, or tight-pants guy fall over while still spinning. After the 1st competition, it was on to Round 2, which consisted of them answering some question about the economy or something like that and then having to run to the doggie bed. This is when we rugby girls ran "interference". Puddles did some tackling, Babb belly bounced them, I grabbed tight pants and overalls, but none of that was enough to stop Jan Ledford from breaking through and claiming the Strongman Cup for 2009.

Grey returned for another mesmerizing magic show on the big stage. Dick Dickman was a great assistant as he oooh'd and awwww'd the crowd. Unfortunately, Kent was unable to make it this year, so there was no one to mess with on stage.

Next up on the agenda was the ever popular Carnie Queen competition. Reigning Crown holder was Lindsey Babb - who last year, did some pushups and situps while smoking a cigarette and chugging a beer.... oh, and did I mention she was 10 months pregnant? There was some TOUGH competition this year: Grapes of Wrath bible reading, Evil Ventriloquist, Jess the Womanizer, Murial's Burlesque show, The Sword Swallower, Guy who played the Accordian... but none of that could compare to Babb's next trick... drinking her beer off her pregnant belly, while her hands were full with her feetless/handless baby. Babb kept her crown and will surely be back next year, pregnant again and ready to defend her title.

There was a fire dancer, (but I couldn't get any good pics of that - too engrossed in the show), there was a tug-of-war, the deep frier, the kissing booth ($10 if you want to motorboat -- give or receive), another pie'ing, the burning of the Christmas tree, bobbing for PBR's, and all sorts of other odd's and end's which make the Roselawn Carnival the best backyard party you will ever go to. Honestly, this blog SUCKS in doing the Carnival justice, so next time, just get here and experience it all for yourselves...

At any rate, here's the pics of the 5th Annual Roselawn Carnival

Oh, and just because I said I was going to use this blog as a way to keep myself honest about training, here's what I did over the last few days:

Thursday 6/23 - Biked 17 miles and swan 1300 meters in the Willamette River - WTF!?!? Ummm, last time I was in the Willamette, I was 16 years old and ended up with a rash all over my arms and legs... and you should know that the swim club has a disclaimer that states "Open water swims will be cancelled when there has been rain within a 48-hour period"... why, you might ask? Because all of Portland's finest sewage dumps straight into the Willamette when it rains.

Friday - this is technically supposed to be my "rest day" but because I have a 1/2 marathon coming up in a week, I decided to run - but just 3 miles. Then I took the nephews to the water park and played in the surf for a couple hours.

Saturday - pre-Carnival, ran 8.5 miles. Wanted to die at 2 miles, but around 5 miles, I was actually enjoying the run, aside from the super sketchy section of the trail, where its completely wooded and dark... and this homeless guy decided to duck up into the trees when he saw me coming. I grabbed a handful of rocks and kept them in my hand for about 10 minutes.

Sunday - 21 mile bike ride. A bit hungover from the Carnival, but busted it out in under an hour and a half. Which, for me, was a pretty big accomplishment. I might remind you that I am riding a 13 year old Gary Fisher mountain bike, where the front derailer only works when it feels like it, so I'm usually stuck on the big ring.

It's All About Fuji

I’ve been sitting here for awhile, trying to think about what I should write about this week… do I just give you the standard recap of my oh-so-exciting weekend? Or maybe another pity party blog that borders on T.M.I.? Sometimes I think that the only reason why I blog is so that a few people will say “WOW, you have a great life!”

I have a friend who tells me that “It’s all about Fuji”… and maybe he’s right. Maybe the only reason I write this blog or take all these pictures is to let everyone know how great my life is. Acknowledge me! Pay attention to me! Someone tell me that I’m doing it okay! Holy childhood issues Batman…

If you know me at all, you know that I’m all over the place with my life. I never really stick to any decisions. I don’t set goals. In fact, I’m afraid to set goals. Why? Because I know I can’t commit to anything. I’m wishy-washy at best.

Last week I was watching the Ford Ironman Hawaii re-cap. At 10:30 pm, I was in tears, watching stories of these amazing athletes who have sacrificed so much to complete this one thing. They were digging deeper then you think is humanly possible. They pushed their minds and their bodies to edge and were so incredibly proud of themselves as they crossed the finish line. Family members, friends, strangers were all in tears as they hugged each other.

Do you know I actually told someone that they shouldn’t do an Ironman because of all the other things they could be missing out on for the year it took to train? How shitty of a friend am I?!?! Seriously – I said to not do something that is described by everyone who has done it as “the best day of my life”. Don’t see what your body and mind are capable of doing because you might miss out on something better. That’s the selfish part of me coming out again. I think I was more jealous that there would be less time to spend with me and more time to be spending doing something amazing for themselves. I am a bad friend.

Anyway, there I was, sitting on the couch, in tears for several reasons... Then I got to thinking about how easy things have always come to me and how I’ve never had to work hard at anything before in my life. I generally do well the first time I try something and everyone is impressed… but I never get better then average, because once things do get difficult I cut my losses and call it a day. See, if you never set a goal, you never have to worry about failing.

I think its time to change that. I guess if I’m going to set my first goals, I might as well go big and proclaim it on the World Wide Web. So, here it is -- October 25, 2009 is the SOMA Half Ironman. I’m doing it.

I know it’s only a half, but I’m not stupid either :-)

Just one of the guys?

Going back as long as I can remember I've always been one of the boys. I'm not sure when I became a tomboy... My step-sister, Paula, is the one who convinced me that short hair was way better then long, that dolls were stupid and skateboards were cool, that my pink banana seat bike was for girlie girls and we were NOT girlie girls (I really loved that bike though).

Don't get me wrong, being one of the guys is great. I don't mind getting dirty, I like sports, I can drink beer with the best of them... I LIKE being laid back enough that the guys want me around. But please do remember that I am a girl and I do have feelings and some things actually do offend me. I believe in true love and I believe in monogamy and I believe that, IF you really loved her, you wouldn't be talking so much shit. I like dresses too, and make-up and pretty things...

Somewhere along the way being a tomboy became my defense. When I feel nervous, unsure of myself or uncomfortable, I will immediately go to "tough-girl" mode. I can tell crude jokes and make fun of ugly girls and arm wrestle with the sissy boys. I'll one-up you in a chugging contest and burp louder then 1/2 the bar. But every time I go in to that mode, I hate it. I hate feeling the need to be masculine in order to "hang" with the boys - I want to be a part of the crowd, but I want to be different too. I want my feminine side to show.

I know that, because of my lifestyle, finding someone to share my life with is going to be nearly impossible. My therapist tells me that all the time..."Slow down. Quit feeling the need to be on the go all the time. And stop being one of the guys. Just be you." The scary thing is, at this point - I still don't know who "ME" is. Am I the adventurer who picks up and goes whenever I feel like it... or is that me just running away? Am I the tomboy who's doomed to be just one of the guys... but never the guys' girl? Am I the independent strong woman who doesn't need anyone... yet so desperately just wants someone to love her?

I guess growing up doesn't have an age limit...

Back from the Bitchin' Baja 500

I just got back from the Baja 500 and I'm still in a bit of a haze... so this may not be the most exciting blog. But, in a nutshell, it was another great experience.

Carlson, Jefe, Rasp and I arrived in Ensenada around 9 pm on Wednesday, but the Dragonfire crew was still out pre-running the east coast part of the course. So, we headed out for some tacos and beers while we waited for them to get back (mmmmm, Mexican tacos - I love 'em). I had the fortunate luck of sharing a SINGLE bed that night... in a room with 2 loud snorers... but I guess that was better then sleeping on the floor. Rasp and Erik were out pretty late, so all-in-all I think most of us got very little sleep that night.

The guys got up early on Thursday to pre-run ~300 miles of the course. I must say, Rasp was looking quite sharp in his tube top flack jacket and Carlson's white boots were very Playboy'ish. Jack told me "We should be back by early afternoon"... one glowing chode later, and they rolled in after 8 pm. In the meanwhile, I hung out with Todd and Hanz as they got the 1 car and Teryx ready for the race. By some really good luck, Todd was able to get both cars inspected by tech so we didn't have to go through Contigency on Friday (which amounts to hours and hours of pushing the cars through the maze of people and vendors... but its actually kind of fun).

After the cars were made "official" Todd said it was time to pre-run of the start of the race. So, I jumped in the back of the pre-runner... basically this is the puke seat. My heart must have been beating at about 190 bpm the entire time. We only got up to about 60 mph but that was enough for me! We were bouncing off rocks, blasting through 3 feet deep ruts - IT WAS AWESOME!! Well, awesome until 45 minutes into it, when I felt like I was going to throw up. Just as I was desperately looking for a puking spot, we pulled off the course and on to a gravel road. I barely managed to keep it all down. We stopped at Horsepower Ranch for a couple beers, which was just enough time for me to get my stomach settled. As we pulled out of the ranch, the sun was just starting to set over the desert hills of the Baja... a beautiful end to a great day.

Friday morning we slept in a little and then made our way to Contingency so we could see all the other race cars, trucks and motorcycles. This place is a total zoo. Grown men pushing kids out of the way for a sticker... scantily clad "models"... guys trying to one-up each other... this is machismo at its finest. (sorry for cutting your head off in this pic Rasp... but you're kind of a giant and Jack's arms can only reach so far)
We rolled back to the hotel to continue preparations on the cars. But, at some point I was convinced to take Carlson's bike out for a spin (when am I going to stop trying to be the cool kid and just say no?). To spare you all the details, it took 5 minutes to get the bike moving because I kept stalling it, then it died on me 10 minutes into my "ride" because the fuel was off, finally I ran into a hole and Fuji'd (formerly known as Superman'ing) myself over the handlebars, bashing my knee and thigh on the handlebars as I flew over. This is what I get for trying to hang with the boys.

Anyhoo, I will also spare you the details of the last minute scramble to get the cars ready, all the tires pumped, chase vehicles loaded up, etc... I was getting major anxiety just watching everyone run around. But, we finally made it to team dinner at Horsepower Ranch around 9 that night and then right back to the houses so everyone could get a good night sleep before the race.

We woke up early to see the start of the motorcycles at 6:30 am. They give the bikes a 3 hours head start before they send the trucks/cars so the trucks don't run over the bikes (but, if you're too slow, the trucks will catch up to the bikes and then its a mad scramble to get the hell out of the way so they don't crush you). After the bikes were done, we went back to the hotel to make any last minute adjustments on the cars. But, they were pretty much good to go. Now it was just sitting and waiting for the start.

9:30 am was finally go time! We followed the 1 car to the staging area and waited as the trophy trucks took off. Class 1 cars were next. I ran down to the start line to get pictures and videos of the start. It was so cool to see them tear around the corner coming inches from all the spectators. Then, we headed back to the staging area to push Reid in the UTV to the finish line. That little UTV is a crowd favorite. Everyone was checking it out and taking their picture next to it. But, just as the UTV was supposed to start, someone at tech told them that the light was not attached correctly, so it was a mad scramble to get it fixed to start the race. I guess Reid decided to give the rest of the cars in the class a 10 minute head start.

The bad side to the Baja is that the entire course is open to the public... which means that jackasses can drive their cars anywhere they went. As we were heading to our first pit at Race Mile 290 the first "code red" came over the radio. A motorcycle had hit head on with a local who was driving up the course about 3 miles from our pit area. We arrived just as a helicopter was landing to get the rider. I saw them take the rider from the ambulance and load him in the helicopter... but the helicopter turned off its engine persumably because they were trying to recucitate the rider. We found out later that he did not survive.

We set up our sweet couch and shaded tent, then waited for the first trophy trucks to make their way through. We had killer seats to watch all the vehicles come bombing down the and go flying by us at 90+ mph. When the Dragonfire car came through at 4:30 or so, they were in 7th place (they started 11th) and didn't need anything, so they just gave us the thumbs up and flew by. We packed up the truck and headed to the Race Mile 350. We only waited 15 minutes or so before we saw them come down the mountain. This time, they were in 5th place!

This time they stopped (note: from this point on we will only refer to this pit stop as "The Gatorade Incident")... My only job is to make sure these guys are hydrated and fed when they need it... but I was up at the corner flagging them down so I wasn't able to get everything ready. All they wanted was water, and we didn't have that ready, so they got Gatorade. The problem was, the bottles still had the safety seal. So, when they went to drink them, nothing came out. That's when Jeff popped it with his knuckle and sprayed it all over Jack's eyes and helmet. Oops. Jack gave us a disapproving look and it felt like we had let them down... BUT, they pulled out and were back on the course, without losing their place -- I call that a success.

Back to RM 290 to wait for Hanz and the UTV to come through. We had A LOT of time to kill, so Rasp used Magnus's rock to set up the horseshoe pit in the grape vineyard. Erik showed me how to throw and then the beat-down was on! Did you know that Carlson and I always win at horseshoe's when we go to the Baja 500? Well, we do... and by "win" I mean we kicked their ass by 12 points :-)

At some point, we realized that Rasp had a cell phone signal out in the middle of nowhere, so we called Jeff's brother in Utah to get updates. All the vehicles are hooked up with GPS tracking, so you can follow the race in live time. Jeff's brother was able to get online and tell us exactly where Car #1803 was... stopped at RM 190 for 3 hours. Now it was just a guessing game... when would Hanz come through? WOULD Hanz come through? how long do we wait? Just as we were thinking about packing up, we got word that they were moving again.

Here's the sad part... the next text we got was "Todd and Jack stopped at RM 423... should have stopped at 420". WHAT!?!? The Class 1 car was dead less then 10 miles from the finish line - and they had made it all the way up the 3rd place before they died. We were all gutted. Weatherman said it was a blown engine, but we found out later that they were rammed by Weatherman's son and that's what killed the engine. Todd said he could see the finish line from the top of the hill. Talk about a heartbreaker!

Then we got another text that Car #1803 was stopped again at RM 223. They'd only made it 30 miles! Were they ever going to make it to us? We decided to just wait it out until we got official word. Fortunately, they were able to fix whatever was wrong and get it back on the course. Hanz finally got to us just before midnight. Kevin and Darren had followed Hanz for part of the race, so they were just behind him when he pulled in to our pit. Hanz looked exhausted. He had been up since 5 am and was chasing the car before he even got in to drive it. We gave him some water and a poptart then sent him on his way.

We packed up and headed to RM 350, again... only this time, we didn't know what we could actually do to support Hanz. Besides, Kevin and Darren were right behind us, and Darren is the mechanic of the group... it was at this point that we decided to ditch those guys and head back to the hotel. We got back to hotel, expecting it to be empty, but Jim was able to tow Todd and Jack back home before we arrived. They were fast asleep by the time we got there at 2 am. I took a quick shower then went to bed. At this point, we had no idea if Hanz had finished or not.

Come to find out, Hanz finished at 6 am and won his class. I'm pretty sure there were only two cars that actually finished in that class. So, overall a successful outing for the UTV... and thiiiiisssss close for the Class 1 car. Another super fun weekend with a great group of guys. I love hanging out with this crew.

Well done boys!! Thanks for letting me come along for the ride and I'm totally looking forward to the next one!!!

Here's all the pics and videos: 2009 Baja 500 - Dragonfire Racing Car #111 and #1803

Ohhhh lord, take me down to Mexico, Rosarito, Baja California...

7 months ago, if you would have asked me what "Off-Road Racing" was, I would have said something along the lines of "Um... racing that isn't on a road?". But after the Baja 1000 in November, I can tell you it is SOOOOO much more then racing that isn't on a road. It is one of the best adrenaline rides of your life. Words can't describe what its like to first hear a trophy truck bombing down a mountain... then seeing it light up the night sky... feeling the pounding in your chest as it gets closer.... and finally, nearly peeing your pants when they come flying by 5 feet away from you going what seems like 1000 miles an hour.

And that's just the trophy trucks... how about being on a chase team for a bad ass who solo'd the 1000 mile race on a motorcycle and finished 3rd in 19:30 hours. The pit crew was just a rag-tag group of 3 -- one hung over, one working on a buzz and one rookie. Yet, we made it to every pit stop, did what needed to be done and made sure the Ironman was able to push on. That was an incredible experience.

So this weekend, I head down again to be a part the Dragonfire team (even if my only job is to take pictures and make sure the food is ready). If you're interested, I think you can follow Weatherman (the dude the updates everyone on the race) or try this link for live tracking....

Class 1 car #111
Trophy Truck #2
Sport UTV #1803

Family Moto Time

When I bought my motorcycle in March, I knew it wouldn't be long before my brother-in-law got one too. He's BIG into motocross and rides his dirt bike any and every chance he gets. He and my sister took my bike out for a spin a couple weeks ago and my sister was hooked (much like I was after the Mexico Road Trip). After that, it took all of 1.5 weeks before they bought one of their own - a 2005 Honda Interceptor. Now, my Dad, on the other hand, has had the same Honda Goldwing for as long as I can remember. He keeps talking about getting a new one, but we all know that as long as this one is running, he's sticking with it.

So, this Saturday, with the sun in our faces, we all ventured out for our first family outing on the motorcycles. The destination was the Oregon coast to visit my step-sisters who live in Gearhart and Warrenton. We were a rag-tag looking motorcycle gang... but a gang we were none-the-less. I loved it. This is the first time I've ridden with other people for any length of time (my uncle Vern cruised with me for about 15 minutes about a month ago, but thats about it) and it was so much fun!

If you want to ride, let me know!!! Baja California? Mexico? Belize? Alaska? Coast to Coast?

Here's the gang:

We didn't take very many pictures, but there's a couple more here from Family Moto Ride.