Wednesday, April 6, 2011

I'll continue the bike ride story tomorrow.  In the story tomorrow, you'll read about the last part of day one which was extremely difficult but God rewarded us.

Yesterday at 2:05 pm  PST our youngest daughter gave birth to our eleventh grandchild, a boy named Samuel Robert Machado, named after my husband Bod who is Robert Samuel.  Samuel weighed in at 10# 2 oz. and 20" long so it was good that she had a C-Section.  I have never seen a baby that large and one delivered in that manner.  He is so beautiful and unlike the babies born the natural way who may have squished heads and be all wrinkled when they come out after having undergone the trauma through the birthing process.  Mother and baby are doing fine, although when I talked to her this morning, she said she hadn't slept all night. " I hate to tell you Kiddo, but Monday night was probably your last good night of sleep for about 20 years.  First the baby keeps you awake, then the kids wake up during the night, then you're up waiting for kids to come home from dates."  We're thankful for such a beautiful, healthy baby and a safe delkivery.  I'll attach some photos below, but not of Laurel.  "Miss Photogenic would have a fit if she saw the picture I took of she and the baby after the birth and really have a fit if I sent it.  We thank everyone for their prayers and we don't take them for granted.

Here I am with "New Baby Samuel" (not so good of me,either.)

Birth Photo

Proud Daddy Danny

Proud Grandpa  

I got up this morning to birds pecking on the kitchen window again.  This has been going on at least two weeks and they do it continuously from daylight to dark.  What Bob first thought was cute is causing him to lose his patience.   But they are sooo cute and fluffy.  They haven't gotten on my nerves yet.

See you tomorrow

For Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Our feathered friends have been back all day, pecking the kitchen window from early morning to dark.  Bob thinks they might me wild canaries because they are so much smaller than sparrows.  We'll have to research it.

No Blog today because WE'RE HAVING A BABY!  Laurel, my baby, goes in for a C-Section tomorrow.

I'll keep you all posted.

Barbie Jo

Countdown to Triathlon – 139Days, 19.85 weeks to Race Day (See Installment 83 of "The Journey", 220 mile bike ride, below)

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY –

Here's two thoughts for the day about bike riding and the wind:

You never have the wind with you - either it is against you or you're having a good day.  ~Daniel Behrman, The Man Who Loved Bicycles

"If the wind is not against you, it is not blowing."

James E Starrs 

Early in the story of the bike ride, I told about riding one day with Pastor Don.  We rode about six miles out to a little community called Denair.  As we rode,  the wind was blowing furiously in our faces.  We really had to struggle to make headway.  We encouraged one another by saying that at least going home it would be at our backs.  Would you believe it?  When we rode through the town and turned back toward home, the wind changed direction and blew in our faces all the way home.  I guess it a way to prepare me for the adventure of the day I will describe below.

You'll see what the wind blowing has to do with today's story.  However, we have been getting some visitors at our kitchen window for days.  These little fellows sit all day in the Star Jasmine outside the window and peck on the window all day and even into the evening after dark.  You'd think they would bend their beaks pecking on the glass.  My husband Bob says there are tiny little bugs on the window.  I certainly can't see them and you'd think that the bugs would all have been eaten by now.  They are sooo cute, I wish I could hold them.  They are so tiny - look at them compared to the leaves.  The leaves are about the same shape and size as a bay leaf that you cook with.  I don't know what kind of birds they are - maybe sparrows.  But they peck, peck, peck constantly.

I kind of went overboard in taking pictures of them with my telephoto lense.

The Journey - Installment Eighty-Three

        After the first rest stop we just kept on pedaling in the warmth of that sunny June day. As we neared Fairfield, the wind picked up and of course it was blowing in our faces.  After about twenty more miles we arrived at our lunch rest stop at the Trinity Lutheran Church.  The volunteers had set up tables and the fixings for sandwiches.  We just told them what we wanted on our sandwiches and they fixed them for us.  We sat for a few minutes enjoying the rest from pedaling, used the restroom and then were off for the next leg of the journey – on to Napa and the wine country.

        During our rest stop, Lisa and I went into the rest room and we applied, "personal lubricant" to our bottoms and inner thighs.  We had been advised to do that by some of female volunteers so that we would not get blisters or chaff badly in those tender areas.  We really gooped it on, so much so that we emptied the container and I threw in the restroom wastebasket.  Then Lisa and I laughed and said we wondered what the church workers will think when they see this empty container in the trash.  What will they think went on in their rest rooms?  It occurs to me now that I should call that church and see if any of the ladies who were working then are still employed and explain to them.  Just as we left the restroom, giggling, one of the female employees entered to use the restroom.  She probably heard what we had said. As it turned out, that was a very good suggestion because by the third day neither Lisa or I had trouble with those areas of our bodies because of the lubricant.

        We set off on our bikes.  About ten of us came to a very busy intersection where we had to cross.  The traffic was heavy and they had no stop sign or traffic light.  We were trying to figure out how we’d ever get across the traffic when a shabbily dressed man who looked like he’d seen better days stepped out into the traffic and became our “traffic cop”.  He had seen that we were not going to be able to cross in quite a while and took it upon himself to be our hero.  He stopped all the traffic in both directions and we were able to cross the road. He looked like he either had been drinking or was high on something but we were thankful for the help.  We shouted a big thanks over our shoulders as we clicked into our pedals and took off.  After a short distance, we remembered that we had been given some booklets which told about Jesus and were supposed to give them out on journey.  We felt badly that we hadn’t thought to give one to the man. 

         By the time we rode away from Fairfield and out into the country toard the hills, the wind was really blowing.  At one point, the wind had changed direction and was blowing from the side.  It was blowing so hard that it actually moved my bike sideways while I was pedaling.  I remember talking to the Lord and saying, “Lord, we’re doing this ride for you.  Why are you making it so hard?”  I got no answer to that question but then I really wasn’t expecting one.  Later, I checked back with the local weather man and the winds were as follows:

27 mph (WSW)

31 mph Max Wind Speed

36 mph Max Gust Speed

Obviously, the gust of wind is what blew my bike sideways.  If you don't think a 35 mph wind in your face or pushing you sideways is very much, you have another thinks coming.

Countdown to Triathlon – 142 Days, 20.28 weeks to Race Day (See Installment 82 of "The Journey", 220 mile bike ride, below)

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.  ~Anne Bradstreet

        In California, spring is here.  Many of the fruit and flowering trees have already dropped their blooms and are leafing out.  For those of you back east (and I hear you're getting another storm this weekend) take heart.  Spring is on the way.  I remember the year I went to West Virginia in May. I had enjoyed the wonderful spring here with all the flowers, tulips, daffodills and flowering trees.  Then they were gone.  When I arrived in West Virginia, they were just having spring and I got a double dose of spring that year.  It was wonderful.  Below are the last of our spring flowers.  I post them not to be boasting but to give those of you who are still in the cold weather, hope.  Spring is coming.  Our spri;ng flowers are just about finished.  The camelias have only a few late blooms hanging on.

The Journey - Installment Eighty-Two




Come back on Monday to read about the next leg of the bike ride - Dixon to Napa.  Also, for those praying readers, please keep my daughter Laurel in prayer.  She is scheduled to have a C-Section at 1:30 on Monday.  She had wanted to deliver naturally, but the doctor is concerned about natural delivery because she thinks the baby is gong to be quite large.  Have a great weekend everybody.

GOD PROVIDES ME WITH ANOTHER GIFT

       

        A turning point for me for the entire bike ride occurred several miles from the first rest stop. My knees hurt so much by this time that tears were running down my face.  As people passed me they would ask, “Are you all right?”  I answered each one that I was fine, although they could probably see the tears.  I silently called out to God and cried, “Lord, how am I going to ride to San Francisco when I’m in so much pain now and haven’t even gotten to Dixon?” Just then, Terri rode up beside me and asked me if I was okay.  I broke down and told her that I hurt so badly that I didn’t know if I could continue.  She had me pull over across the road and we stopped under the shade of a large tree. She said, “You know, I used to ride with a friend who had trouble with her knees.  We raised her seat and she had no more problems.”  I was very skeptical because I had knee trouble before I ever started riding the bike so the initial pain was not due to bike riding.  In fact, bike riding is supposed to be good for knees.  Terri again pulled out her tools and raised my seat.  It really was a gift from God and Terri because I was able to finish the ride.  Of course my knees still hurt but as we pulled into the church parking lot we had arrived at our first rest stop.  One of the riders or volunteers there at the rest stop there gave me an 800 mg. Tylenol which cut the pain in my knees so that I could bear it.  At this time, my husband Bob was riding in his pickup as he would throughout the three day ride either behind us or passing us, driving up ahead then pulling off the road, waiting for us. 

            Churches along our route were kind enough to offer us their facilities to use the rest room and set up tables for snacks and drinks.  We would take a short break and then get back on our bikes for the next leg of the journey.  Our next stop would be in about twenty miles at Fairfield and would be our lunch stop.

Here I am pulling into a rest stop out in the farming community of Dixon at the Dixon Community Church, about 25 miles from our starting point.

     








At the rest stops we would use the restrooms, get a snack and drinks and some would use the time to tweak their bikes or make any adjustments. 




My recollection of parts of the ride when we rode in the countryside was that I just kept pedaling.  Quitting was not an option.  I just kept pedaling – pushing the one pedal, pulling up on the other as my son Hollen had taught me to do. Making circles with my feet, again and again and again.  At least half of the time I would be riding alone and at this writing cannot remember what sort of thoughts went through my mind as mile after mile past behind me.  






Come back Monday to read about the next leg of the bike ride - Dixon to Napa.  For those of my readers who pray, please pray for our daughter Laurel.  She is now scheduled for a C-Section on Monday at 1:30.  Her due date is April 12th but the doctor is concerned because babies add a half to one pound per week in the last couple of weeks and the doctor already thinks the baby is going to be large.  Her doctor doesn't want to risk Laurel going through natural child birth as Laurel would like to do.  We would appreciate prayers.

Have a great weekend everyone.  And for Laurel and Danny, after this weekend their lives will never be the same again, as those of us with children know.  Blessings to all of you.

Countdown to Triathlon – 143 Days, 20.42 weeks to Race Day (See Installment 81 of "The Journey", 220 mile bike ride, below)

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY - It's not only what we do, but also what we don't do, for which we are accountable."  Moliere

This last Sunday, March 27, 2011, Terri, who is the one fixing tires in the bike ride story, went with me by car and we re-traced the Fairfield to Napa part of the FOTF Bike Ride route.  It was amazing to see all the distance we traveled on a bicycle.  We were gone for most of the day and it was so wonderful to spend time with her again.  I hadn't seen Terri for a couple of years.  Since I am training for a triathlon in August in Maryland and have stalled on my training at the moment, Terri has agreed to make me be accountable to her for my training and weight loss.  So, the thought for the day, above, has much meaning.  I will be accountable to her for not training as well as for training.  Having her friendship right now is a real shot in the arm and is making me desire to accomplish great things!  Thank you Terri!!!

Terri looks exactly the same as the last time I saw her and no older than she looked nine years ago on the bike ride.  How does she do it?

The Journey - Installment Eighty-One

        After talking with one of the volunteers in the minivan I got off the phone (we all had our cell phones with us) and turned around. Terri was already changing Yvonne’s tire.  What a life-saver she was.  Tire fixed, we turned our bikes around and got back on the right trail and headed through the town of Davis and out the other side,  east toward Dixon. It truly was "God interferance" in this situation, because if we had gone the right way, Yvonne might have been stranded there for a long time.  If she had not had the flat tire, who knows how long she might have ridden in the wrong direction and there would have been no one to assist her. Because we were all chatting as we rode along, the time from Sacramento to Davis seemed to go quickly, except for the interruption of the flat tire.  What I marveled at was that years ago I used to commute from Davis to Sacramento to work and it seemed to take a long time.  This time, riding a bike, it didn’t seem long at all. How could that be? It felt strange being back on a bike riding through Davis.  Back in the days I attended the University there, (which is where I met my husband Bod), we rode our bikes to class and everywhere we needed to go.  No one had cars at that time but we would never have ridden to Sacramento from Davis and there certainly were not bike trails to follow back then.  We would have had to ride on the Yolo Causeway and that would have been not only prohibited, but very dangerous.

           

        Throughout the entire three-day ride, sometimes I rode with Lisa or other women, sometimes I was alone.  I could usually see some of the others, either ahead of me or behind me.  I was probably the only rider without a road bike.  God had given me the bike I rode but it was also the kind that FOTF had recommended that we no use.  Mine was a hybrid.  The frame was heavier and the tires wider than a road bike.  It was not built for the speed that the road bike attains.  We had about nine miles to ride between Davis and Dixon where we would have our first rest stop at the Dixon Community Church which would be about 24 miles from the Capital.  

Countdown to Triathlon – 144 Days, 20.57 weeks to Race Day (See Installment 80 of "The Journey", 220 mile bike ride, below)

The Journey - Installment Eighty

   

  

         Our ride began as we set off heading west on Capitol Mall, over railroad tracks just before the Tower Bridge.  I had been over that bridge many times in my life in a car, but never on a bike.  The perspective from a bicycle is quite different from speeding over the Sacramento River in a car.  All the riders were still within sight of one another at this point.  Once over the bridge, the men and some of the fast women riders took the lead as we rode on West Capitol Avenue toward Davis and then disappeared from view.   We turned onto a bike trail for six miles.   By this time, there were only a few women riders in view, myself included.  According to the directions on our yellow card which was attached to our bikes, we were to turn and go over some railroad tracks.    There was some confusion because several of the women felt we were supposed to continue on the bike trail.  Instead of insisting, I figured that I was probably wrong and turned back to continue on the bike trail with the others.

            This was our first mistake in following the directions but it turned out to be a God-intended mistake.  We came upon Yvonne who had been riding way ahead of us.  She had made the same mistake and had not turned when she should have but had continued straight on the bike trail.  She was stopped and off her bike examining her tire.  She had the great distinction of being the first to have a flat tire.  I can’t remember who was with me other than Lisa and Terri.  Lisa and I had been riding with Terri and talking with her as we rode along and getting to know her.  I found out that she was the lady from Modesto and one of the people I had called several weeks before the bike ride when I had received the letter from FOTF along with the roster of the riders.  I had left a message about possibly getting together with her and doing some practice rides but we had never been able to get together before the ride this weekend.

          As we came upon Yvonne and saw her predicament, I wondered what was to be done.  It was so early in the ride and I didn’t have a clue about changing a tire even though my son Hollen had shown me how when I was training in April with him in Hawaii.  We looked forward and behind us and not another rider was in view.  We called the Minivans to tell them of the situation.  They were not able to come to our aid because we were on a bike trail.  As we tried to describe where we were, they seemed to think that we should have made a turn and gone over the railroad tracks.

Countdown to Triathlon – 145 Days, 20.71 weeks to Race Day (See Installment 79 of "The Journey", 220 mile bike ride, below)

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY -  "Courage is about doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared."
---Eddie Rickenbacker

The Journey - Installment Seventy-Nine

        The months that I had been scared of this upcoming ride - now it was here!  I should have been trembling in my shoes That morning as we prepared to mount our bikes, I was aware of something missing as we waited to set off from the hotel. Missing were my feelings of dread and anxiousness.  I had absolutely no fear and was actually excited to get started.  I’ll never forget the sound of twenty or more bike riders starting out for a ride.  As each of us got on our bikes and started to pedal, we had to click our riding shoes into our pedals and the sound was at least forty clicks (two shoes per rider).  It was a comforting sound to know we were all starting this journey together.

                          

        We rode to the capitol building in the cool of the early morning on a June day, Father’s Day weekend, which showed promise of a bright, sunny day.  When we arrived in front of the capital, my parents were there to see me off on our excursion.  Also there to greet me was a high school classmate named Alice who was part of Encina High School email e-group and had been one of the people who had been encouraging me these many months. Many of the people I had graduated with in 1962 at that Sacramento high school had been communicating back and forth via email for a couple of years keeping posted on each other and what we were currently doing. 

            Once at the capitol, we waited there for a short time for the local television camera crew to arrive and interview  Ryan Dobson about the ride and its purpose.  Once the interview was completed, I said goodbye to my parents and to Alice as they wished us “Godspeed” and our group started up on our adventure.

The California State Capitol buiilding in Sacramento.

Here we all are before starting the bike ride.  We'd riden to the capitol from the hotel.

You won't see my bike thrown in a heap on the lawn.  I have a kickstand.  Of course, no serious bike rider has a kick stand because (1) it isn't cool and (2) it adds more weight to your bike.

Here's my Mom on the right, Lisa and I'm on the left with my knee braces.