Equity and sustainability are two topics that come up in my world on a regular basis. A big part of the reason why is that I live in Portland. We're a city passionate about equity despite our checkered past of inequity. Much of the tenor of protests are for better and more inclusive rights among other things. We're also a city known for and marked by sustainability. Even our slogan is "The City That Works." To many we're a model city when it comes to transportation infrastructure, green infrastructure, and engaged citizens.
I like pizza. I also like (and love) sushi, peanut butter, pears, asparagus, and breakfast burritos. That's the easy part. The difficult question to answer is why? Why do I love what I do? I'm afraid that would would take years on the couch of a psychologist to plumb the depths of that question. Or maybe it really isn't that complicated after all. Maybe the answer is simply, "I just do."
We all know that coffee and mountain bike racing go together like ... well, coffee and mountain bike racing. We caught up with Loam Coffee Ambassador and Yeti mechanic Shaun Hughes who came off another successful Enduro World Series season wrenching for EWS champion Richie Rude as well as Cody Kelley. The questions we were dying to ask was what life was like on the road this past race season and of course where and how coffee was part of Shaun's routine. Ready? Let's start this ...
There’s something spiritual, sacred, fulfilling, and downright fun about mountain biking. It’s an addiction, except that the side effect is a healthy lifestyle. It is a sport and hobby of risk. If you’re not getting hurt out on the trail you’re probably not pushing yourself enough. Since I don’t like pain, I usually ride to the upper limit of my comfort threshold and just kind of stay there. I have a family to take care of, for crying out loud. Nonetheless, I still ride, and take risks.
Our bikes are more than pieces of recreational equipment that deliver cardio workouts outdoors on dirt. Even more so, they transcend being simply muscle-powered vehicles carrying us into the remote backcountry on epic adventures. Often times, they end up becoming almost personified as "companions" or "friends." We talk to our bikes and treat them with a level of affection where they are almost alive as we give them emotions and other human characteristics.
6:30 AM.
Alarm blares like a foghorn warning ships of imminent doom along the rocky coastline that is receiving a beating from the angry sea. Or at least that is what it sounds like when your alarm goes off that early on a Saturday morning. You have thirty minutes to inhale a bagel, get dressed, and grab your bike and gear before you head to your buddy’s house for a day of shuttled runs. There’s a whole crew meeting up.
