Friend and fellow northwesterner Jason Clark started Rivulet Industries a few years ago and recently sent me a pair of his signature socks. I tweeted a photo of Sal wearing them a few weeks ago and had several people ask where they could procure these sweet little numbers. I prodded Mister Clark to set up online sales and he’s off and running. Here’s the scoop:

These fantastic foot coverings are nothing short of phenomenal. They’re made by SwiftWick, a company with a kickass name (not that I am in any way biased) and a passion for making products that truly qualify as the crème-de-la-crème of the sock world.

Besides that (and probably more importantly) they’re branded with Clark’s brilliant slogan:

BE BRAVE. BE KIND.

That’s just the kind of statement that makes me stay up nights pulling my hair out for not thinking of it myself. It says so much about how we walk through the world and how we might treat each other better. It gets at the heart of what’s hard, but also offers an important salve.

Kindness is underrated and often overlooked

Suffice it to say that I’m twitterpated with the Rivulet lens on the world.

SNAG A PAIR, SUPPORT ORGAN DONATION

You can snag a pair of these beauties over here but – fair warning – they’re not cheap at $20 a pop. The price reflects the quality (I swear to you, SwiftWick socks are unlike any others you have tried – and they’re made in the USA), the cost of customization, as well as a $1 donation that will be made to Donate Life – an organization committed to organ donation education.

Check out the press release below to learn more about the partnership between Rivulet Industries, SwiftWick socks and Donate Life.

Disclosure: Clark is a personal friend that I met through this blog and have known for a little over a year now. He gifted me two pairs of these socks but I have no financial relationship or benefit from the sale of Rivulet socks or other merchandise. I just wanted you to know how damn cool they are and where you can get them.

PRESS RELEASE

When avid cyclist Jason Clark launched Rivulet Industries in 2006 he didn’t know exactly where it would lead, but he had a vision for the future and it included giving back.  Three years later Clark is launching Rivulet’s first philanthropic partnership.

This week Rivulet unveiled its first items for sale on its website www.rivuletindustries.com and Clark is donating $1 of each pair of socks sold to Donate Life Today.

Rivulet was born out of passion.  Clark was going through a rough patch in his life and decided to dust off his right brain and rediscover his creativity.

“I wanted there to be a positive spin on my pain,” said Clark. “From my pain came the idea for a branded lifestyle and a philosophy for life.  Be brave and be kind.”

Organ and tissue donation is quintessential rivulet philosophy – The generous organ donor and their brave family, who in their darkest moment see through their tragedy to be kind and generously save the lives of others.  There are more than 100,000 people desperately waiting for a lifesaving organ transplant in the United States and yet organ donation is not keeping pace with the great need.  Eighteen people will die today waiting.

“I can’t think of a more selfless act than donating your organs so someone else can live,” says Clark. “There are special people, doing special things in this world and their contributions don’t get nearly enough attention.”

By partnering up with Donate Life, Clark hopes to bring awareness about donation and start a conversation beyond the little red heart on your driver’s license.

About Rivulet Industries

Rivulet Industries’ online blog/magazine is more of a concept than a tangible entity.  Conceived from seeing the light through hardship, Rivulet strives to point out the beautiful things in life.  With our busy lives we often forget to carve out the time to do the truly important things in life:  Laughing and loving with the utmost passion.  To learn more visit www.rivuletindustries.com Be Brave, Be Kind.

About Donate Life Today

The Donate Life Today donor registry is managed by LifeCenter Northwest — one of the 58 federally- designated non-profit organ procurement organizations (OPO) in the United States. By educating the community about the need and the importance for people to register their donation wishes, they hope to help the over 100,000 people waiting for a transplant. The Montana and Washington Donate Life Today Registry is a confidential database of donation wishes to be carried out at the time of death and accessed only by donation professionals. For more information, or to register your wishes, go to www.DonateLifeToday.com.  If you are not from Montana or Washington, please visit www.donatelife.net

About Swiftwick

Swiftwick’s vision is to be the leader in sock technology while creating a culture focused on manufacturing the best products through environmentally friendly means, social responsibility, and superior customer service. They strive to create an environment where every employee, customer, and retail partner is not only respected, but essential in furthering the education of the world in proper foot health. Locally and nationally, they support eco-friendly programs while encouraging their retailers to do the same.  Swiftwick products are made in the USA.  www.swiftwick.com

Related posts:

1. Gear Friday: Socks That Will Change Your Life
2. Sunday Cyclocross: The Only Kind of Holy – Barton Park
3. Some Kind of Wonderful.

It’s true. Today’s our anniversary. I read somewhere that on the 11th anniversary you’re supposed to give dirty laundry, so that’s my plan. But before I surprise him with house chores, a little stroll down memory lane. 1999 and 2000 were precariously documented because I was still in college and therefore somewhat preoccupied, but 2001 onward was a virtual paparazzi festival of photo taking mania. We’ll start there and continue on with a few more time-machine posts later this week.

The week surrounding our anniversary is historically referred to as “Romance-a-thon”.

Welcome to a week of sappy stories and old photos mixed in among your regular Grit & Glimmer programming, people. You’ve been warned.

2001

Ocean Beach in San Francisco. Our first apartment was across the street.
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It’s the off white one, to the right of the blue one. With that lemony-ass Montero parked out front.
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Not a lot of stuff. But just enough. No bikes in our life at this point.
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My hair was platinum as the day is long.
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The path from the apartment to the beach.
We spent a lot of time there drinking coffee and eating bagels from Java Beach. Which we called “Java Bitch” because those women in there were mean.

2002

You can see why I fell for him, right?
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I have no idea how we took this picture.
This was the original Romance-a-Thon: Spring boarding in Tahoe.
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Short sleeves. Holler!

2003

In 2003 we went back to Sicily to visit Sal’s family. I shot a lot of film, mostly with two trusty Holgas.
I also ate a LOT of Arancine.
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Seaside pizzeria, seafood appetizers. I call them “treats from the sea”.
We drank two bottles of wine that night. Red lips.
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The virgin next to the telephone in Zia Rosetta’s house. It still looks exactly like this, I imagine. Has for years.
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Beach! This is one of my favorite photos of us. I have stickers of it that I put in secret places on my bikes.
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The beach in the town where Sal was born.
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Sal walking his hometown streets. Photo scanned backwards.
I learned a lot about him on this trip. First and foremost that he doesn’t do jet lag very well.
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Trabia. Backward again. For effect.
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2004 -2006 is on the way.

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Oakland and old friends. A sushi reunion. My old friend Wendi is a red-head with a vengeance and wears big jewelry that suits her. In sorta shiny copper colored cowboy boots she leans over and says, “I love you, little!” Sal and I sleep in her bed because she is too stubborn to expose us to what she calls the “demolished guest room”.

Her home is filled with candles and family and hospitality and dogs and big pots of coffee in the morning. Her sister glows according to their family requirements. We call their mother “RadMom” for a reason.

Djuna is a circus animal disguised as a house dog. She’ll make one million tricks for you (including but not limited to “spin”, “roll over”, “rambo” and “let’s pray”). Kona is as old as dirt with hips to match. An ancient retriever who still manages to look like a puppy despite a limping gate and propensity to fall asleep standing up. In between Djuna and Kona is Scout, a rescued mutt who looks a little like a genetic mashup gone wrong. In a good way. Think sheep dog mixed with basset hound mixed with black lab.

During the day the dogs decorate the couch with napping until someone comes in and says, “Let’s go for a walk.” at which point all hell breaks loose.

The Wrong Way Up

Sal and I decide to take an adventure ride and navigate our way to the top of the Oakland hills via Claremont and Grizzly Peak. Claremont is 2.5 miles of relentless, leg-stabbing incline unlike anything I’ve seen this year. At the top, the entire Bay Area spills out in all directions and you can see all the way to the Farralon Islands. Which should technically be impossible, but isn’t.

Clear skies and sun abound until we make a turn into the redwoods. The darkness feels ominous in a Hans Christian Andersen kind of way. A quick stop at Inspiration Point fails to yield a make-out session so we continue on, heading through Moraga and Orinda, up Canyon Road to Pinehust and Redwood Road to Skyline.

It’s a good ride with healthy climbing and quiet narrow roads. Bay Area cyclists are less friendly than I would have hoped and choking a tiny wave or lift of a finger out of most of them is nearly impossible. Old, rich men on very nice equipment seem to be the worst about it. I begin to combat this non-acknowledgement by gradually increasing the size of my initial greeting (maybe they’re not seeing me?). The finger tip becomes a hand off the bar which becomes a full-on parade-worthy wave.

They see me and still ignore me which we find endlessly entertaining.

As the ride draws to a close, a kind gentleman on a Cannondale spins up next to us and redeems the entirety of Bay Area cyclists in one fell swoop. He gives us a personalized guide of the ridgeline, pointing out famous houses and places where the fire destroyed entire neighborhoods in the late 80’s. Then, after learning of our little mountain goat excursion up Claremont, he shows us Tunnel Road.

“This is the way most people go up.”

We can see why. Tunnel is a tiny, winding gradual climb that spreads the elevation gain over a few extra miles. We go down it instead of up and I count 37 cyclists making their way to the top. Most of them wave. Welcome to the east hills super highway.

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If you’re not yet familiar with it, the technical term for “foam rolling” is self myofascial release (SMR) which frankly sounds kind of dirty, but that’s besides the point.

SMR is pretty simple. You get a foam roller and then roll around on it, using your body weight to create pressure to massage and stretch sore muscles.

How To

In general (this is how I was taught):

1. Find a tender spot in the area you’re working on and keep the roller on that spot. Wait for the discomfort to diminish by 50-75%. (Be patient, this could take some time.)
2. When this area is no longer sensitive, move on to other areas and repeat.
3. When the area is free of pain and can be easily rolled over, continue rolling regularly to keep the area relaxed.
4. Use Mr. Foamy Pants as a warm-up prior to activity and also for a warm-down after workouts.

I dug up some great resources online that show proper technique.

BodySpex.com has an entire library of good videos. (While you’re there you might also check out the super thorough video demonstration of “Super Man” – one of my favorite exercises. )

Running Times has a brief overview of how it helps runners, with a few photo demos of how to target the most important leg muscles.

The About.com page for Foam Rolling also has some pretty good information on what SMR is, how it works, with photos and written explanation for various stretches.

Warning

Foam rolling is really effective. And by effective I mean, it’s like getting a very aggressive, deep massage. It can hurt if you’re dealing with really sore body parts, but that usually goes away after you’ve been using it for a while. (I swear.)

Get One Cheap – $17 until Monday

Don’t have one? Not to worry. I strong-armed the OpenSky crew into letting me offer a discount of 17% from now until Monday, March 15th (use code “17Foam” at checkout). That means this little baby will ring in right around $17 when all is said and done.

If you got two $70 massages a month for an entire year, you’d spend $1680.00.

Foam roll instead and you’re saving a whopping $1663.00! Now you can buy me something nice. Wasn’t that easy? Yes, yes it was.

To nab your high-density foam roller, head on over to the GnG General Store and use the code “17Foam” when you check out.

[Note: For more info on the my store at OpenSky, check out this post.]

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It’s an interesting question for any couple who rides together but I think it also applies to riding in groups in general. And I’m not talking about classic group rides here (for which you should prepare to have your legs shredded off your body and expect nothing different), I’m talking about groups of friends getting together for fun.

Five Keys to Riding with Your Significant Other

1. Plan: Decide route, intensity and ride goals before you leave. Commit to them. Don’t change the plan midway through. Don’t get all uppity because some dude in aero bars and a half shirt just went blasting by you and you want to chase him down. If everyone knows what to expect, things will go a lot smoother. You can also plan ahead of time to have certain sections that are “gloves off” and pre-designate regroup points (climbs are perfect for this).
2. Take Ownership: Own your decisions and your actions. (This is just plain and simple relationship advice, really.) You decided to ride a little slower or faster to be with your partner. Don’t blame them when you’re hurting / wishing you were rolling a little faster. Also, don’t rely on or expect your partner to take care of things (like pumps, food, navigation, tubes) unless for some reason you’ve explicitly decided ahead of time to split responsibility for that stuff. (I don’t recommend this – especially with food. Only you know what you need.)
3. When in doubt, let the slower person set the pace: We ride side by side when it’s safe, but when we’re in line, Sal really likes to pull. I appreciate this most of the time, but sometimes he pulls faster than I want to be going. He thinks he’s doing me a favor and I really wish I could be sitting on the front managing the pace.This is when I come around him and tell him I’m going to take over for a while. Of course, if I’m looking for a really hard ride, I just shut up and hang on. Or attack. : )
4. Pick routes that play to both people’s strengths: If you’re a climber lady with a land-motor partner, find a route that has a little bit of “fast and flat out” and a little bit of up. Land-motor pulls the choo choo through the flats, mountain goat lady gets to lead the charge on the climb. Both people get to feel fast.
5. Take a break: Sal and I don’t ride together all the time. I love a long, solo ride to clear my head and after a week or so of rolling on my own, I’m much more appreciative to have the Shecko back up front in the big ring.

Do you have other tips? Add ‘em in the comments.

Our Story: In the Beginning

I started cycling because Sal was cycling. That was it. I didn’t want to be left out.

If I’m honest, for a long time I didn’t think it was very fun at all. I definitely didn’t take to it right away and I was the opposite of “a natural”. To me, cycling was uncomfortable, inconvenient, complicated, cold (or too hot, the temperature fluctuations still annoy me), and a little bit scary.

[Side note: a reader recently mentioned to me how they thought it was so amazing that my blog tells the story of going from being a "non-athlete" to an "athlete". I'd like to dispel this myth. "Non-cyclist" to "cyclist" is accurate. I've been mashing balls and running competitively since I was a little kid - athleticism runs in the blood. For a long time I didn't even associate cycling with athleticism (I'm very ball-sport centric) but that's another post for another day.]

I had classic beginner problems: a bad bike fit, a terrible saddle, and a teacher who was so far beyond my level that he couldn’t even remember how to explain cornering: “You just do it.” didn’t really help me grasp the concept.

But for all the setbacks, I had a lot of positive things going on, too. Sal was committed to seeing me on a bike. He was patient (most of the time) and kind. He was helpful (almost to the point of being enabling) and caring and very protective.

In those early years of riding together we went out on the weekends to a nice location (I never rode in traffic then) and did 20 or 30 miles together. I never pulled and he never dropped me. We weren’t riding together – I was learning. Class was in session.

Usually these sessions occurred at “Bicycle Sunday” on Cañada Road when they blocked traffic to allow cyclists, hikers and roller-bladers to take over. I consider this my cycling birth place. We paid it a visit this past Sunday:

All Grown Up

Now that I’m past my Zygote Cyclist Phase, the dynamic is different. Sal worries less and rides harder. I take pulls on the front (though far fewer than he does). On a good day, I can make him hurt a little bit but I’ve never been able to drop him. Maybe I never will. I’m ok with that – and I will definitely keep trying.

When we ride together, I’m usually getting a pretty hard ride in. Or else Sal is getting a very easy ride in. There’s no getting around the strength discrepancy. I try to sit in as much as I can so that we’re both getting our money’s worth. When Sal’s on the front we’re both getting a pretty decent workout in. If we’re in a strong headwind, I try to come around and offer him a break here and there.

Balancing Training Demands

When Sal and I were really sticking to our training plans in Tucson, we went almost a month without riding together. I had lots of base endurance level efforts on my schedule and I knew it was important to get those long, steady miles in. I’d start with Sal and then back off as soon as the pace went too high.

“There’s plenty of time left to ride fast.” I told myself.

Sal was often perplexed by these super slow rides.

“I think you could have stayed with me.” he’d say when we met back at home, “I wasn’t going that hard.”

He was right. But in January, staying with him wasn’t the point. I train with power and have pretty specific workouts. Riding with Sal usually demands that I ignore (or at least significantly alter) what’s on my schedule.

Sometimes it’s about doing what’s right for training and sometimes it’s about enjoying being on bicycles together. The best days are when those two things overlap.

On Not Killing Each Other

Sal isn’t a big verbal motivator. He’s generally a happy-go-lucky bicycle kid and, to be honest, when things go south for me he doesn’t always know what to say. Which usually results in him saying nothing.

This works out now that we’ve established our roles. When I go into a bad place, I get quiet.  Sal typically responds to this with a little bit of small talk or outright silence. There are never boisterous words of encouragement or Hollywood-worthy pep talks. He has never pushed me up a hill (though I’m sure he would if I asked him to). I don’t expect this stuff from him so it’s fine.

I used to struggle a lot with blaming Sal for my bad days. Riding with him can be hard, and he doesn’t always get that. When I was hurting, I’d curse him internally for “getting me into this situation”.

These days I prefer to take responsibility for my decisions. When I roll out with him, I’m ready to go hard if I have to. I’m ready to hurt if i have to. It’s easy to have a scapegoat, but it’s unfair to blame the man in charge of the wheel that routinely gets my ass home.

Being fit helps a lot. The faster I get, the more confident I get and the less I have to “reach” to ride with him. As long as he’s not out to crush it, a long ride with Sal is well within my means these days. I haven’t always been able to say that.

As quiet as Sal is, he’s good at letting me know when I’ve done something well. And he’s not prone to blowing sunshine, so I take great pride in the days when he says something as simple as, “You rode hard today. Good job.”

For the Love of It

I love watching Sal ride. It is, without doubt, the place that he is most comfortable.

In some sense, pedaling is Sal’s natural, default state of being.

That kind of joy is pretty inspiring. So as much as I love being on a bicycle, I love seeing Sal on a bicycle even more.

It’s probably the same reason that he used to come out and watch me play 5 consecutive softball games in 103 degree heat on summer tournament days. Seeing people in their element is cool, even if you don’t “get it” quite the same way.

My relationship with the bike has been slow going. Cycling fitness is a cumulative process that requires years of patience and persistence and I’m not very good at waiting. Riding with Sal is a constant reminder that the measure of cycling extends far beyond the speed at which you travel.

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Be sure to take your clothes off and settle in for a treat when you do, because Kurt is one of the best massage therapists this side of the Mississippi.

Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait a few months because Our Man of the Massage broke his thumb (or some dad-gum crappy hand-related injury) in a bike race recently and the subsequent surgery required has put him out of the body-rubbing game for a few months. Bad news for a boy who makes his living with his hands. : (

We all love Mr. Marion, so the Portland PACE crew has pulled together to organize a raffle in his honor and ever-fabulous Molly Cameron of Portland Bicycle Studio donated a sweet Ridley Crossbow for the grand prize. There’s some other good stuff in the pot including a full Hammer Nutrition cycling kit (more to come).

Tickets are $25. Learn more about the raffle here. Or buy a raffle ticket online here.

It’s a sweet way to potentially score a rad bike frame while helping out a talented kid who has helped all kinds of cyclists heal and recover at some point or another.

The winner will be drawn on March 31st – you do not need to be present to win. The winner will receive a frame in the size of their choice, shipped anywhere in the continental USA.

Thanks for helping out a fellow cycler-in-need.

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Why do you ride?

Pass it along.

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Meeting El Grupo, riding road bikes through foot deep washes (maybe we won’t try that one again), racing like matchbox cars along the swooping, smooth road of Saguaro East, ripping into our stash of Coke ManCans at Windy Point en route to the summit of Lemmon.

But one interaction still stands out.

The high five.

Windy Point on a fittingly windy day. Dan Sharp’s 40th birthday. There’s a life flight helicopter evacuating an injured sledder. We’re turning around.

There on Windy Point, I was descending slowly, weaving my way through the snow revellers that flanked the street, playing while they were parked and waiting for the road to re-open after the rescue. Up on the right, a young man was giving me the thumbs up.

Why? Who knows? Cycling in snowland worthy of a thumbs up? Probably.

I was rolling slow enough to put a hand up in the air as I went by and when he reached up and met me… bam! On-bike stranger high five! Instant human connection. No words exchanged.

What were we celebrating? Why did we do it? What did it mean?

Nothing. Everything.

It was 5,000 shades of awesome.

A random exchange of kick-assness. A spontaneous expression of rad.

Why did I put my arm up in the first place? Because of Colleen Smith.

A few days earlier, I’d been made aware of this. High fives for happiness – the High Five Project. In which six-foot-six-inch tall Smith attempts to spread joy with the simplicity of high-fives doled out to unsuspecting stranger.

Check out her video for inspiration and then go forth and spread the high-fiviness. It’ll make you all kinds of giddy, I promise.

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I’m going to New Zealand in October. Come hell or high water. Really.

After “racing” in the Cyclocross Single Speed World Champsionships last year and then reading about the madcap shenanigans at the 2010 mountain bike Single Speed World Championships, I realized that I must – at some point – attend one of these crazy event internationally.

Then it was announced the 2010 Mountain Bike Single Speed World Championships would be held in New Zealand.

And my heart stopped.

NEW ZEALAND!

A place of beauty. A place of wonder. A place I have always wanted to ride my bike.

What a great excuse to plan a trip!

So, that’s what I’m doing.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I decided that if I’m going to go to all the trouble to plan this kind of trip, I might as well make it a big-assed party and invite a bunch of people. Besides, putting together a group itinerary will save a grip of cash.

I don’t have all the details worked out yet, but I am working with a network of providers to create a two-week trip.  I’m planning a road cycling tour in the south to follow three days at the SSWC.

This is the basic (tentative) lowdown:

• Dates: October 19th to November 1st
• Three days in Rotura for the SSWC
• Fly to Christchurch (warmer part of the country!) to meet up with some rad cycle-touring peeps
• 7 day road-riding tour with daily mileage from 40 to 90 miles.
• The packaged trip will cover airfare, most food, all lodging, transfer from Rotura to Christchurch, etc
• The packaged trip will not cover bike rental (or bike shipping/airline costs if you bring your own)
• I’ll probably need to have a small down payment commitment by March 30th April 30th

If you think you might be interested, just sign up for this here list and I will keep you updated as details come together.

To be clear, this list is only for NZ updates and will be used for nothing else – scout’s honor!

Grit and Glimmer and bicycle field trips,

Swift

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All of them are crazy.

Not Portland-Cyclocross-Woo-Hoo-PBR style crazy. No, these people are certifiable. As in, “Call the white coats!”

Ok, I jest. Kind of.

But what else drives a person to ride a bike for almost two weeks without sleep? Why else would someone fold themselves over aerobars and cross some of the nation’s most grueling mountain passes?  Why ride over 3000 miles all at once as fast as you can if not to prove that you are utterly and totally off your rocker?

Because of this:

RAAM gives people hope that ordinary people can do extraordinary things.

That quote stood out among many insightful reflections documented by director and editor Stephen Auerbach. It gets straight to the heart of why we all do what we do. Why we race our stupid bikes in circles even though no one is paying us – why we go out and rip out training runs in 39 degree rain.

Why we decide to ride across the country as fast as we can.

What happens in Bicycle Dreams is trying and glorious and ugly and wonderful and gut-wrenching. Auerbach’s cinematography is stunning – and the editing evokes a pace and cadence that reflects the grinding journey of its unglamorous heroes.

They get off their bikes and threaten to quit. They get back on and keep going. They pass out from exhaustion. They cry and sob and freak out. They hallucinate and get angry.

Some of them give up. And whether they finish triumphant or collapse in defeat, they all have something to teach us.

Whether or not you buy the “spiritual advancement from suffering” theory, it’s clear that Bicycle Dreams channels some kind of magic. It’s the kind of magic that makes crazy shit worth doing.

The Magic is inside us: it’s our heart, our desire, our passion.

Bottom line? Bicycle Dreams lives up to a big ask. It lives up to a story the size of an entire continent and a subset of cyclists who set out to conquer it.

But you don’t have to take my word for it – the film has already racked up seven awards at film festivals around the country.

Watch the trailer. Buy the movie. Throw a party. Bring tissues.

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