Craig's blog

I love driving. I love driving a large car pulling a huge travel trailer at 55 MPH on the interstate for 8 hours. I love driving a motorcycle on a nice, warm day. I love driving the kids to school. I love to challenge myself to do everything right while driving. I love to work to be the safest driver on the road. But most of all, I love driving a sports car, particularly on a beautiful windy road.

I’ve always enjoyed driving. I wrote essays about it in high school. My entire life I’ve taken every opportunity to be the person who drives, to take the long way home, heck even to build my home up at the top of a mountain, so that I could drive up and down it each and every day. I loved taking a Skip Barber racing school class and getting a Dodge Viper through the course faster than anyone else that day.

And as I alluded to, at the top of the driving pyramid is driving a powerful, topless, sports car on a windy road. I’ve never been particularly interested in high speeds on straight roads, or in trying to out-drag the next person, but give me some twisty’s to carve up, and I’m in heaven.

And my whole life I’ve been fortunate to have (and/or have access to) great sports cars. My Dad bought a ’66 Mustang convertible when I was 3 and it’s still in the family. I was fortunate enough to be allowed to spend many nights and weekends during my high school years driving that great V8 powered car. Since then I’ve always owned a great sports car and now is no exception. I drive a BMW M Roadster, which is a total blast. Everything about it is great. I love listening to the rumble when I start the car, slipping the clutch, shifting gears, accelerating, braking and of course cornering. And it does all those things extremely well (and rarely with a roof over my head). It's been great fun to teach my oldest daughter Kelly how and when to shift, as my Dad did for me when I was young.

Ok, you probably get the picture. So why write this post today? Well, as many of you know, while I’ve always been concerned about our consumption of fossil fuel, I’ve become much more engaged in the issue over the past 6 months. And I’ve vowed that our family would do what it reasonably could to curb our own consumption (as well as CO2 emissions). And you may already know that we have done some things (that really didn’t take much sacrifice other than money) like putting a PV solar array on our roof and trading in our Acura MDX for a Toyota Highlander Hybrid that gets twice the mileage. But I’m still driving my powerful (fun) sports car (that’s not a terrible gas guzzler, but it’s far from the most efficient car on the planet).

So I took a deep breath and I did it. I ordered one of the most efficient cars on the planet, a 2007 Toyota Prius Touring Edition. And today I got the call – it’s arrived at the dealership and I’m picking it up tomorrow.

I’m sure some of you are thinking, “what a spoiled, whining, brat”, and you’d probably be right. I get a new car. It has lots of fun technology that I’ll love playing with it. I still get to drive (I can even fit my kids in it) as much as I did before. But for the first time in my life, I won’t have a fun sports car. And until and unless I put my hands on a green sports car (Tesla?), my kids won't grow up with some of the thrills I did.

Well, I did it. Saturday I followed Catherine 100 miles around the North Lake Tahoe area. We did the Tahoe Sierra Century, which is a fund raiser for the local high school music programs. It would appear they have very impressive music programs in Truckee. The ride was extremely well supported with 100's of volunteers. After the ride we listened to a high school jazz band and they were great. It whole day was a great experience (most of the time). Here are some of the highlights.

We left Squaw Valley at 7:30 AM. It was a chilly 33 degrees outside. The ride started with some downhill, which made the windchill pretty painful, particularly on our faces and hands. We headed south on Hwy 89 into Tahoe City. We went east on Hwy 28 to Kings Beach where we had our first rest stop (about 18 miles). The rest stop was right at the edge of Lake Tahoe and they had great food for us to enjoy. Because it was so nice, we stopped for too long - probably 20 minutes. Here's a photo of Catherine at the rest stop:



From the rest stop we headed north on Hwy 267 over Brockway summit (about 1,000 feet of climbing) and then down into Truckee. Next we headed north on Hwy 89 into the Tahoe-Donner area. We did a tough, 8-mile climb up another 1,500 feet and then descended back into Truckee where we stopped at the west end of Donner Lake for another rest stop. This rest stop was probably the low point of the ride for me. We had gone 50 miles and I was tired and sore. It was cold and windy and looming directly in front of us was Donner Pass Road that headed straight up and over Donner Pass. I was seriously wondering whether I could make it, but fortunately it's not easy for me to give up, so on we went.

As soon as we started climbing, at least we got warm. And 30 minutes later we were at the top with a commanding view both east and west. Then came the descent down the west side. Usually I enjoy a nice steady descent like that, but all 16(!) miles were tough to enjoy (even though they were beautiful) because I knew we were just going to turn around and climb right back up. At the end of the descent we stopped for lunch (probably for 40 minutes) and then headed up the hill. It was a long, painful slog back up to the top of Donner Pass, but we eventually made it. Catherine paced me all the way up the hill (actually for the whole ride). She kept telling stories - she said she figured it would help take my mind off the pain. I was just focused on breathing. Once we made it up to the top, it was pretty energizing. We knew there were no more serious hills to climb (although there was still 20 miles to go).


The descent back to Donner Lake took about 5 minutes, then it was 17 relatively flat miles back to Squaw. Unfortunately, Catherine finally tired of being held back by me, and she decided it was time to pass all those people that hadn't stopped as long as we had at the rest stops (not many people passed us while we were riding). I have a little competitive spirit in me, so I tried to tuck in behind her and draft my way along. We really flew back to Squaw - passing at least 50 people. I had to ask her to slow down a few times, but it was fun to move along at such a fast pace. I wonder how fast she would have done the ride if not tethered to my lazy bones.

It's pretty cool how much ground you can cover on a bicycle. 100 miles is a long way. In the picture above, you can see Donner Lake in the background. The ride from the far end of Donner Lake to where I'm standing is less than 6 miles!

Probably most amazingly, driving home that night and at home the next day I felt almost no soreness (except for my butt). It's not something I'd want to do every weekend, but it was really a fun experience. The ride was really well supported and beautiful. I highly recommend it.

For anyone that was worried, I made it through the ride. Details coming
when I have a real keyboard.

Some of you who have been reading my blog know I went for a few casual rides with my sister, Catherine, this summer. Well at least to her they were casual. For me, they were hard. Now in a spectacular demonstration of my inability to learn from my mistakes, I am driving to Lake Tahoe tomorrow with Catherine so that we can ride in a century together. Just let me say, I'm scared. In addition to the challenges of pedalling for 100 miles at altitude and sitting on my bike seat for more than 6 hours, we will climb over four passes, including Donner Pass twice.

Riding next to Catherine is likely to make it a real ego-damaging experience. She rode in a century two weeks ago, and participated in a full ironman about a month ago where the 112 mile bike ride was sandwiched between a 2 1/2 mile swim and running a marathon. All she did that day was put in the fastest time for her age group. Yep, I'm going to be feeling pretty strong next to her. I've been thinking of bringing a rope and tying it around her seat post and on to my handlebars for the second 1/2 of the ride. I doubt she'd notice.

If I survive, I'll be sure to post an entry saying how it was, but if this is my last entry, please ask Catherine how far I made it. :)

Now this guy is fit. Check out this video of a guy free climbing up Lover's Leap in record time. The free jump in the middle is especially impressive (and insane). http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=5115262465831039893&q=dyana&hl=en

Tonight was "Date Night" for me and Patty. Every Wednesday we go out to dinner together while a sitter watches our girls. We've been doing this for most of the past 6 years.

I highly recommend a date night for all couples with kids if there's any way you can swing it. In our case it's one of the few times we can and do just talk with each other and find out what's going on. With kids running around all the time, our focus is almost always on them. I think it's been great for our relationship to have a weekly time together that we both look forward to.

I need to thank Bill Campbell who told me to start date nights so many years ago. I know others have taken the same advice from him and really find it healthy. So, parents, setup a regular date night if there's any way you can make it happen.

This morning I got up, got the kids ready for school and then headed off to pickup Kevin so we could go mountain bike riding. We wanted to ride to the top of Black Mountain, which we had attempted twice previously and failed for various reasons. We drove up Stevens Canyon Rd, and parked on Redwood Gulch, got out our bikes (after locking the car, I carefully placed the keys in my spare tire pouch on the bike - unfortunately, this becomes important later), and off we went.

We rode up the mountain faster than we had the previous two times and got to the top in just over an hour. It's a pretty tough ride, especially the last mile and a half, but we made it. There is a commanding view from Black Mountain, and we were pretty proud of ourselves. So far so good.

We flew down the hill (it took a little less than 30 minutes to get back down), and eventually ended up back at the car. Neither of us got hurt. So far still so good.

I reached for my pouch and noticed that it was somewhat open and thought, wouldn't it be awful if the keys had fallen out somewhere on our 15 mile ride? 10 seconds later, I was sure they had. Doh! I was feeling pretty sheepish as I told Kevin what had happened. Shockingly, he said (rather sheepishly), "Oh, when we stopped (about 3.5 miles back) I saw keys hanging out of your pouch, but I figured you must have had them clipped in or something." Doh!

In addition to the obvious pickle we were in, there was another not so little problem. It was 11:00, and I was meeting my friend Hugh at a restaurant at noon. I know what you're saying to yourself, "Just call him on your cell phone." That thought crossed my mind too. You see, I always, always carry my cell phone when I bike, but of course I had learned last time we rode on this trail that there is no signal anywhere along it, so I very wisely locked it in the car.

Now if Kevin hadn't said he had seen my keys just 3.5 miles back, we would have certainly abandoned the thought of ever getting them back, but for some reason, since the problem seemed somewhat contained, we decided we most certainly would find them if we rode back up the hill and searched for them. So that's what we did. Well we did the riding back up the hill part. We didn't actually do the finding part. However, we killed the better part of an hour trying.

So now we're back at the car (which is really in the middle of nowhere) and it's almost 12:00 and the car's still locked. So now what should we do? Ride toward town as quickly as possible, find a pay phone and get a message to Hugh, right? So that's what we did. We rode toward town, and in a couple of miles we got to a pay phone. Now I don't think I've used a pay phone in at least 10 years, but I figured I was up to the task (although having no money made me slightly nervous). I dialed 0, and eventually got an operator. I told her I'd like to make a collect call, and she called my house. After 3 rings she said, "There is no answer" and before I could say anything, she hung up. So I dialed 0, and tried to make a collect call to Patty's cell phone. It turns out you can't make a collect call to a cell phone, or at least not Patty's (or Kevin's friend, Drew's).

So now what do we do? Ride as fast as we can toward Kevin's house (it's only another 6 miles or so at this point). Along the way we stopped at a pay phone and tried the collect call thing again. Same result. At 12:40 we arrived at Kevin's house. After a few failed attempts, I finally find Hugh's cell phone number and give him a call. He was extremely understanding, and we agreed to reschedule (sorry, again, Hugh). Now I ride home (another 5 or 6 miles), and finally arrive around 1:15. It turned into a pretty impressive ride: 33.3 miles, 3655 feet of climbing, 3 1/2 hours in the saddle, all on soft mountain tires, and about 2/3 in the dirt.

Ideally, that should be the end of the story, right. I get the second set of keys, get a ride up to the Suburban and pick it up. Nope. We look for the second set of keys and realize they must be in our trailer, which is parked at a lot, about 5 miles from home. So I take a quick shower, grab the keys for the trailer (and the gate for the trailer park), and drive the 15 minutes to the park. I get out of the car, walk up to the gate, only to find I've got the wrong set of keys. I'm holding a set of keys that looks almost identical, but is at least 8 years old. In fact it has a key on it to a file cabinet that we've been unable to open for the past 6 years. I don't know how they showed up at this particular moment, but they did. So, I drive back to my house (15 minutes), find the right keys, drive back to the trailer park (15 minutes), go into the trailer and look for the keys. I don't know what you're thinking, but I know what I was thinking. The Suburban keys aren't going to be in here. Low and behold, they were - my luck was finally changing! I took the keys, drove up Stevens Canyon and found the Suburban waiting (Patty had visions of someone finding the keys and walking out, eyeing our car, unlocking it and driving it away).

So I left my other car there, and drove the Suburban home. Hopefully I'll be able to get a lift up there later and pick up my little car.

So if you're walking or biking up the trail from the end of Stevens Canyon toward Black Mountain and you happen to see a key ring with a remote and two keys, pick it up and let me know!

Check out this almost totally electric Mini. This seems like an ideal solution - all electric mode for many miles, but a small generator to keep the battery charged for long highway jaunts. The performance isn't bad either. :)

Anybody want to help me build cars like this in the U.S.?