Alpine Century - Your Next "Bucket List" Ride

How would you like to do a fully-supported century ride with:

• zero stoplights
• two stop SIGNS (both in the first 20 miles)
• great scenery
• little to no traffic
• all the hazelnuts you can reasonably eat, and 
• a swimming hole that appears JUST when you think it's getting a bit warm-ish?

Look no further. The Alpine Century is all that. I ran into a bunch of Corvallis friends on the ride (Mark, Tim, Joe, Kate....Joanne from Salem...) .but I mainly rode with Carbent Bro' Chris.

I rode up to Alpine from Eugene. It's about 50k. See? I'm bilingual! I rode 50k to do a 100 mile ride! This is what I get for hanging out with the rando crowd. The plan was to meet Chris at 7, and plan to be riding by 8. I figured that since I'd be all warmed up and ready it was okay to be a few minutes late, so I didn't leave until 5:45...I was only a few minutes out the door when I realized that I'd calculated my time/distance to Monroe, not Alpine - I was 5 miles short, so I'd better haul a$$. Which I did.

I got to Alpine with a full head of steam, rolled in to the parking lot and asked the lady at the registration table if "my riding partner had shown up, yet"...she gave me a blank look. I'll take that as a "no" -  even for a 'bent guy, Chris cuts a distinctive figure; if he were there, she'd know who I was talking about. By the time I'd filled out registration paperwork it was 7:20. A quick tour of the parking lot - nope - but just as I was heading back up to the breakfast table, here he comes....Miyata, top down, bike in the back...Mr. Cool.

We did make it out of the parking lot by 8:00, but barely. No worries...up and over Bellfountain. Chris is SURE there's something wrong with my front wheel; it's making a lot of noise. Now, sports fans, I'm auditioning a new front wheel - a Cosmic Carbone SL, with (yep!) a carbon fairing bonded on to an aluminum rim. Although this wheel has a reputation for being bombproof, my recent history with carbon/aluminum bonding is pathetic, so we stop and check. Everything. Nothing apparently wrong...

Over Bellfountain, made the turn onto Decker. This is a very easy course to navigate, and I've been on all the roads before, so I don't really have to think too much. Down the other side, on to Hwy 34. One guy catches me just before the Marys Peak access road and congratulates me (on being almost as fast as him??? Hmmmm).

Turns out that he and Chris are both waiting at the top, and pull out right behind me as I head down. This is some of the best pavement on the planet. Seriously. On club rides, even on my upright, I've been known to make grown men cry. And today I've got the Raven. I had some initial speed on Chris, so it took him a couple of miles to catch back up to me. We don't see the other guy until the rest stop at Alsea.

Rest stop at the Alsea grange hall. Hazelnuts, M&M's, and Gorge Delights fruit bars. Oh, and Gu and Gatorade and stuff like that. But - Hazelnuts and M&M's. I think I could do a century on just that.
Lobster Valley Road - nice. Quiet. Up. Back to 34. Up a little, then back down to Alsea again. MAN, that was a quick 50 miles! And a good thing...it's getting hot, and Chris is almost out of water (we skipped a rest station).

Load up, and on the home stretch. It's pushing 100 degrees in the sun (oof!) but we're going to be in shade for most of the rest of the ride. There's a rest stop right at the trailhead down to the falls. We're on it. We tell the volunteers there that we're going in. They offered to watch our bikes.

COLD THERAPY!!!! OOOOOOOH!!!!! Chris got a young couple to snap a cellphone pic of us in the falls, and he managed to navigate clear across the river and back without dropping the thing. Not bad.

A few more miles of easy climbing, and then DOWN! to Alpine...a nice lunch. I was a little behind on fluids so I refilled water bottles and had a soda. The local businesses put up a lot of raffle prizes; since I'd done day of ride registration I wasn't in the drawing but several friends won bottles of wine, etc. Something to remember for next year!

Chris dropped me off in Corvallis, and I changed into "party" clothes at Peak Sports. I had a few minutes to kill before heading to a party, so I stopped in to a gelato shop (shoppe?). I had a small dish of chocolate-orange and cherry. Could easily have had all chocolate-orange...and an iced espresso. Nice!
Drank probably half a gallon of water at the party, ate everything salty I could find, and stayed WAY too long, but had a very nice time - a good mixture of "bike" and "non-bike" people. (Meaning - mainly bike people, but we were finding other things to talk about.) People were a little surprised that I was heading out at dark to ride the final 40 miles...but hey - I've got a great light. Might as well use it, and it was cooling down nicely.

On the way home I stopped in Monroe for QUITE a while - still feeling a little thirsty, so I sucked down a large iced tea and refilled yet again while I watched the moon set and a little bit of heat lightning dance to the south...the latter brought a bit of headwind; I allowed that to slow me down a bit, and got home around 11:30.

Long, good day. You know you've done a good one when you have to think about whether it's worth it to grab a shower, or just crawl into bed filthy.

Consider the Alpine Century! They do a great job and they deserve more turnout than they get.

Whack!

Sometimes you just have to be hit over the head with it.

On my way out of REI today - killing a little time before hitting the gym - I got whacked in the head by a falling catalpa pod. And it hit me (duh...): I want a catalpa tree. It's time. 

Now, as urges go, this is a strange one. A catalpa tree is an extremely impractical tree that only a medium-sized child, or a true sentimental sap, could love. Thing is, it's really not much of a coincidence that I got hit by catalpa tree debris: dropping things is what catalpas do best. Sort of like my dog, Cog, they shed three seasons out of the year. In the spring, they drop giant white flowers which look like a cross between a snapdragon and a rhododendron. The flowers are tough (which means that you can string them into really cool necklaces) and don't degrade readily in spring rain (which means that you have to pick them up). In the summer, the fruit starts coming down: long, bean-like skewers that could put a kid's eye out if you weren't careful. However, they are just long enough for swordplay. Then, like the flowers, they have to be picked up. In the fall, predictably, the leaves: large (huge, really), heart-shaped, and tough. So big that they clog the rake. But they make great piles which can be jumped in, and then (back in the day) the leaves could be burned - a kind of pleasant smell that came with the pumpkins and time to pick out Halloween costumes.

Few readers will be surprised at this point to learn that I grew up in the shade of a catalpa tree. For several years, my horse lived in the shade of our catalpa tree, too. Yes - I was a one-time horse owner, from the age of six (or so...) to nine (or so...). Timmy was made of wood, probably painfully, by my dad. I don't know if he had a pattern or plans, or if he freehanded the whole thing, though I suspect the latter.

Timmy was amazing and magical, and I knew that this was so because Daddy made him Just For Me. He was white, when he was any color at all, and he was suspended from the biggest branch of the catalpa tree that didn't hang out over the driveway or the street. (Did I mention that catalpas have a spreading habit? - something else to dismay the horticulturists among us...) I spent a lot of time riding Timmy - possibly where I got my first taste for the rhythmic motion of cycling (or more cynically, the origin of my depressingly slow cadence!).

I have no idea how Timmy got his name. At that age, things just get named, and you go with it. But I had a lot of fun out there, riding my horse, playing with swords, peeling the bark off of the catalpa tree (oh, yeah, they've got crumbly bark...) and watching the ants march up and down the trunk (...and the loose bark makes great habitat for carpenter ants.)

Somewhere, in the shady recesses of my brain, that tree took root. It's a metaphor for the quiet, peaceful, happy times that I remember from the last of my "make believe" years - especially the summers. So when that pod fell on me today, it was a wakeup call: It's time. Find your spot. Grow some roots. Twenty years - or twenty-five - or sometime - you'll be wanting to put up a swing in your catalpa tree. You'll want to plant it rather soon. 


Right now I've got...I don't know  - runners? Like a strawberry plant, I'm a bit of a biennial. I've got satellites all over the place - people I know/love/connect with who are widely flung. That's great. None of them are in Eugene. That's not so great. 

Clearly I don't have all the answers yet - but I'm getting closer, and I'm feeling some urgency to make some changes by the time fall rolls around. In the meantime, blueberries and blackberries are coming on hot and heavy, the best of Oregon weather is upon us, and the riding is danged good.

And I'm going to share an unexpected musical treat. This is a portion of my daughter Nancy's (first) trumpet concerto. It's an electronic rendering; the world premiere is as yet unscheduled, but - watch this space. I think it's pretty nice.

Sandy's U Turn 400

I'm NOT doing the Oregon Randonneurs Edens' Gate 400 tomorrow.  Here's the thing: I live just a couple of miles from the southernmost edge of the course - where it turns North onto Coburg Road. Last time I did this ride (in the spring), I drove 85 miles to the start, got in a great ride that started and ended in the urban jungle, and drove home again. I really wanted to ride the couple of miles off-course just to let Cog (my intrepid dog) have an early dinner - but we'd had headwinds and I was running late, and there were people to catch, and.... When I saw the ride come 'round again I really wanted to do it, but thought to myself: "There MUST be a better way!".
And I was right. I'm taking a page from my STP playbook and doing the "U-Turn 400", instead. For those of you who don't know, I "crewed" STP for David Bradley, who was riding to raise funds for sarcoma awareness (and here's a link to his writeup of the event). For that event, the strategy was for me to sag the vehicle forward, ride backwards on the course until I met David, and "escort" him to the van. Since I was totally committed to being the Most Worthless Sag Driver Ever (as in, David was only going to need me if he couldn't do it, so I was damned glad to be not needed), I'd ride ahead with him, making a second "U-turn" after ten miles or so and then heading back to get the van.
So - that's what I'm going to do tomorrow. I'm going to start, from home, at the appointed (ungodly, probably 5AM but I haven't actually dared to look, yet) hour, heading north to Marcola, Sweet Home, and probably somewhere around Larwood, where I should encounter oncoming (southbound) randos.
I'll turn around and ride with them (hey, if I stick with the first group I may score a meatloaf sandwich at the Mohawk store this time 'round!), and probably do my second U-turn in Albany, or maybe go a little further if I'm feeling really energetic.
That plan should give me somewhere close to 400, save me a lot of time, and make Cog a little happier.

Tailwindscycling.com, Bonding issues, and a Great Product Review

I've been busy. Not SUPER busy, but busy enough. High summer is here in Oregon – gotta admit my favorite time of the year. The weather is predictable, warm and sunny. What's NOT to like?

I've been fortunate to be able to get out and crew a couple of really cool events. First, I crewed David Bradley of Team Raven Lunatics to an STP finish. This doesn't sound so impressive until you remember that David has been pretty danged sick (it's not some grand coincidence that we're raising funds for the Liddy Shriver Sarcoma Initiative) and that he'd not had a ride over 50 miles or so since February 2008.

Weekend before last I crewed Joan Grant to her RAO finish. Great race, great folks, great crew, amazing racer. Hats off to Joan! This was my 11th successful RAO campaign. I've crew chiefed 6 times and raced 5, with no DNFs. Given that course that's a pretty amazing record to be putting on the line – but I never felt like the streak was in jeopardy. I don't crew for junk!

And I'm making a couple of moves personally. The big one is that I am launching into self-employment again. I'll be providing coaching services and training and nutrition plans for distance cyclists. I'm also going to be putting on some very cool camps, rides, and events. Watch for content showing up at www.tailwindscycling.com very soon (as of now, it's a parked domain). My first “practice” event is coming up soon: a double century on September 18. As David says, every state should have AT LEAST as many DC's as it does congressional districts. Oregon is seriously behind, especially since STP only gets half credit, at most. The Tillamook DC is a free event in 2010 – I'm looking at is as being 'in beta' so I'll be looking for feedback – but we'll be accepting donations for the Sarcoma Initiative.

I've been training – not super hard, just enough to keep my fitness. The real push starts now. I'm getting ready for a fall 24 hour race. I love 24's – probably my best “distance” event if I'm being totally honest with myself – and so I've vowed to solve a few of the logistics issues that always bug me. Like – lights. I've always made do with lights, because I've not wanted to invest in something that's pretty unimportant for my crewed races. I've seen people show up at 24's with a blaze of light and wondered if it might help. I'm going to find out. More on that later....

Great weekend of riding. Sort of. I had a weird equipment failure 30 miles into my Saturday (daytime) ride. I was riding a trispoke wheel – one that I had (loosely) borrowed but did not have a history on. It was looking great – shiny and black, with a brand-new pink tire. I even switched the pink cassette over for it, just because...

Oh, we were having fun, that wheel and I. I was going to ride up to Corvallis, hang out and visit a friend. And I was flying. What headwind? I could hear the wheel 'whush-whush-whush' as I rode, and I've got to admit I liked that...

I got to Peoria and made a pee stop (new motto: “Cyclists Put the 'P' in Peoria” - since we always stop at the boat ramp vault toilet...). When I got back on the bike, the first power stroke felt kinda funny – like an automotive belt slipping. And – I didn't go anywhere. Weird...Tried again. Same slipping sensation. I looked the bike over and couldn't see anything....got back on, rode GENTLY – a little slipping, but rideable.

By now I was a lot closer to Corvallis than Eugene, so I decided to get to a bike shop there. I figured, maybe the freehub had given up? Acceleration was impossible, as was climbing. For those of you who know Peoria Road, you'll appreciate the irony of the girl on the recumbent having to walk a couple of the steeper 'hills'. (For those of you who don't, it's the flattest piece of pavement in the western half of the state.....)

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the reason the wheel was slipping was that the hub shell had come unglued from the carbon part of the wheel! Another 'bonding issue'! Why can't carbon and aluminum just learn to get along? Of course the kid in the shop advised me that it was not safe to ride, and of course I did, anyway. The option was to buy a new wheel – and they didn't have anything I'd want. I figured if I got at least halfway and bailed out with cab fare I'd be ahead.

So – a forty mile “slow race” with myself to get home. I could spin, but not accelerate. I could only start in places where I could get a gravity assist - and I was not going to be doing any hard cornering given the fact that my wheel might end up someplace unpleasant. And, again, I had to walk the 'hills'. But I made it, and since there was a tailwind it only took an extra hour.

So...I re-mounted my (suddenly plain and uninspiring) original rear wheel, had some dinner, did some quick cleanup around the house, and set off for my night ride. I had been looking forward to this. I just got a new light. It's purpose-built for 24-hour racing – designed to give over 12 hours of great light without a battery change. A double-win over my usual setup: MUCH more usable light, and time saved in battery swaps.

If you've not been keeping track, LED technology is moving by leaps and bounds. That's one of the reasons I went with Trail LED lights (www.trailled.com). Grady – the man behind the brand – is a perfect example of PWMTOS. He looked at the available options for lights and knew that there was a lot more emerging technology that could be used to make them better. He got so good at it that he became a PWSSTM (Person Who Sells Stuff They Make...). The system is scalable, customizable, and upgradable. He spent quite a bit of time understanding my needs and getting his head wrapped around exactly how I'd want to mount things on a recumbent bike.

Unfortunately, the day “my” light was supposed to ship (oooh - did I forget to mention that they come in pink?) I got a frantic email from Grady. My light failed QC – something was wrong with the electronics package, and he needed to replace a part. So he did what any outstanding customer service department would do – he sent me his demo unit via overnight express so that I'd have something for the overnight training ride I had planned.

Wow. Someone who actually pays attention to QC, doesn't let defective stuff out the door, and takes care of my main need – having a light and getting experience with it – even when things go wrong. I'm bummed about the main issue, but pretty stoked overall.

The demo light arrived Friday. It was nicely packaged and well protected, fully charged and ready to ride. It looks cool...the light is small, the switches are very businesslike and weatherproof...and – holy conformal coatings, Batman! Check out the battery pack. A really nice piece of work there. I've heard about other manufacturers' lights crapping out the first time they get rained on – it doesn't look like that's a possibility.

The instructions were very easy to follow. The light and battery pack attach with simple velcro straps. The setup I had didn't have a remote, which is how I'm ordering mine – clean and simple – though a remote option exists for people who want to entertain themselves by micromanaging their lumens. Setup was very straightforward; the lighthead attached securely to the TerraCycle Accessory Mount using one of the supplied pump straps (I'll have to cut it down a little when “mine” arrives) and the battery pack attaches to the main spar, between the headmast and the crank. The supplied pump straps were barely too short for the oversized carbon tubes, so I used a Jogalite reflective leg band – perfect!

And off we go, into the dark. The demo unit is capable of 700 lumens of output, but Grady has reprogrammed it to emulate my setup – 500/250 high/low settings – so that I can practice with the light I'll be racing with. The low setting is a lot of light. I had to re-adjust the light a few times to get the beam out far enough, but it's really easy to adjust. I really hadn't trusted how far out the thing would project so I'd undershot.

Unfortunately, I got to discover that since the light mounts and dismounts in seconds, it is very feasible to use it as a 'work light' for flat repair. I'd considered a helmet-mounted light just for that reason but I think I made the right choice; I really prefer a bike-mounted light.

I got 5 laps in on the Coburg TT course before I concluded that I was not going to outlast the battery, so I decided to switch to high beams for the last lap. One of the things that I knew I wanted for this light was the ability to amp up the light output if I start to get sleepy – often just having more light out there will improve my alertness. The high setting was amazing. I was seeing a lot more 'stuff' – by which I mean that the level of detail I could see and process about the road surface and the surroundings was a lot greater. There were suddenly a lot more animals by the side of the road – and no, it wasn't because I was starting to hallucinate. I may have even saved myself a 'skunking'! Riding along...green beady eyes in the road, directly in my path. A few seconds later – NO green beady eyes. And then – the striped flag, flying proudly....WHOA, NELLY! I don't know if the low light setting would've been enough to illuminate that skunk's backside, but I'm sure that my MiNewt wouldn't have picked it up before I was in range.

After a good night's riding I loaded the bike up into Eggplant and drove home. After riding with the TrailLed light, I felt pretty naked with “just” the car headlights – I had to switch to high beams for the drive home! So far I'm pretty impressed.

Home!

Landed at home this morning at 3AM, too full for words. More soon, but I couldn't sleep before saying SOMETHING. In short, it was an amazing experience - one I'm eager to repeat, though slightly differently.
Highlights: why "Utah" is a verb, a root beer float, poolside in Congress, Go DEX!!!, amazing weather in every way, adding a cara-cara to my life list, road rash, and so much more that I'm still remembering/processing.
My crew - amazing. Thank you SO much. You rock. We got a lot accomplished.
I've got a fair job of recovery ahead of me, and a couple of fun upcoming races, and an announcement or two over the next few weeks.
In short, I'm doing well, and I'm glad to be home.
Here's the music that brought me home:

In vos, amicus corvus...in vos.

The Luckiest Person In the World - that's me.

I just got back from the RAAM racer meeting. (OK, I got back a couple of hours ago, kicked back, made a few pizzas with my crew, had a slice of chocolate cake. But you know what I mean.) As the racers were introduced we all shook hands and wished each other luck. At one point, I was standing between Jure Robic and Gerhard Gulewicz. And I didn't feel star-struck. I'm part of the race. I...belong...here.

And I'm the luckiest person in the world.

For starters, WAY over 99% of the world's population never gets a chance to race a bike, do a "fun" run, or try something athletic at all. They don't have access to clean water or adequate food to support any of the extra effort that goes with being an athlete. I take these things for granted - almost.

I'm healthy. I've been incredibly lucky that way. So many people have to deal with injury or illness. I planned out this training year assuming that I'd be healthy, and I was. The ability to train consistently was a huge mental and physical boost for me.

I'm lucky to have found ultracycling at all. I started on a path to get healthy when my youngest child hit kindergarten. I walked, did aerobics, started running, and got fairly fit. I did a fair bit of running, then got the random cue to try a triathlon from my brother-in-law. I entered my first ultracycling race - the Furnace Creek 508 - because my first-choice race in 1999 - Ironman Canada - filled up before my entry was accepted; if it had gone the other way, I'd probably be a reasonably happy Ironman athlete (who sucks at running and swimming, but is cheerful about it). At the time I got the news about IMC, I didn't know that ultracycling events existed. I happened on it by luck - I walked into Peak Sports where Darren was prepping George Thomas' bike for a race, and we got to talking. One thing led to another, and I decided that Furnace Creek would be my "A" race for the upcoming year. Problem: solved. Obsession: started. Lucky.

I have a network of supportive friends who are not just cheering me on, but doing something about it. You know who you are. My enduring, takeaway lesson from my 2002 RAAM was delivered in Pensacola by Susan Notorangelo. She told me that I had the physical skill to do RAAM, and that I'd put it together when I had the right people around me. She was right. I was lucky to hear that lesson, to absorb it, to believe it, and to have the right people arrive, as if by magic, at the right time.

My crew is amazing - I've been washed over and over again in their positive energy, absolute capability, and humor and camaraderie. We've been on-task and stress-free since we arrived. (OK, Brian may not be stress-free, but he's sure faking it well....)

I have an amazing bike sponsor. Dana (Bent Up Cycles) came up with an amazing amount of resources to help me with this journey. I can't say enough about this. Imagine the leap of faith that a sponsor takes - I'm almost 47 years old, for cripes' sake, AND female, AND new to racing recumbents, AND I've DNF'd the race before. And yet, here I am. The luckiest girl in the world, rocking a pair of hot pink-and-black carbon fiber machines.

I'm lucky that the recent successes I've had haven't come too easily. RAO, Sebring, Davis - tough races and tough conditions. I've had just enough to overcome that I feel tough, prepared, and confident. Not cocky - and fully cognizant that anything CAN happen - but confident. I don't have to worry that I might have to deal with headwinds. I know that my crew and I will figure out how to persevere.

But more than any of this, I'm lucky that I appreciate how lucky I am. I *do* have talent, training, grit, and whatever personal merit I will need to haul my ass to Annapolis. And it would be tempting to believe that I can take full credit for everything that I've accomplished. But - it's not true. I'm sitting in a villa in Oceanside, CA today because of an incredible set of coincidences, starting with being born to a family who could afford to feed me. I was lucky that at the time my path in life intersected ultracycling, I was open to trying something new. Ditto with recumbent riding, when that time came along. Without amazing luck, I'd never have known what I'd have been missing.

I'm the luckiest person in the world. End of story. 

See you in Annapolis,

Sandy
PS - I'll not be blogging, but my crew will be sending twitter updates to the blog as often as possible. Twitter updates show up in the box in the upper right hand corner of my blog page.

Vitamin D - Where the Sun Don't Shine....

First - CONGRATULATIONS are in order. Astute reader Bill Spaeth (Team Raven Lunatics, Arcata, CA, sponsored by FSM) aced the competition in my recent T shirt contest by correctly deducing that an athlete laboring mightily in the sunfree Northwest might be supplementing with Vitamin D. Nice work, Bill!

Yes, sports fans, I've been sucked into the dark, dark world of sports supplements.  But - Oregon is a dark, dark place, especially in winter. In fact, ANY place at a latitude above 40-42 degrees is unlikely to provide enough solar radiation to produce sufficient Vitamin D in the winter months. Salem, Oregon sits at precisely 45 degrees North latitude. Add in that current knowledge about skin cancer and UV damage lead most of us to be very careful in using sunscreen, and there are a lot of Vitamin D deficient people out there.

Vitamin D does a lot in the body other than "just" maintaining healthy bones. I'm already on the hook for crappy bone density - family history AND a lot of cycling (non-weightbearing exercise) predispose me - so I'm grateful for all the help I can get in the bone density department. But - in addition to that, there's good evidence that Vitamin D helps improve athletic performance and is protective against some autoimmune disorders and cancers. It has a very wide range of effects in the body - it's one of the fat-soluble vitamins that acts as a hormone in the body.

The research on this subject is pretty solid. If you'd like to get a look, you can type "Vitamin D athlete" into Google Scholar. (OH! You didn't know that Google has a "scholar" setting? Pretty cool - it ONLY returns peer-reviewed/journal-published information. Pull down "Scholar" from the "more" clickdown on your Google  homepage...voila! Just the information you're looking for, and no commercial sites or "junk" science.) Or you can get some great information here: http://lpi.oregonstate.edu/infocenter/vitamins/vitaminD/ (written by Dr. Jane Higdon, with lots of references).

The current issue of OUTSIDE magazine has (in addition to a vaguely interesting interview with Jack Johnson) a good "popular science" type review of Vitamin D's uses in the body, and how we're likely not getting enough.

Sun exposure provides a HUGE amount of Vitamin D relative to food. A few minutes' exposure to the sun a couple of times a week provides several THOUSAND IU's (international units) - again, provided that the sun angle  is correct to give you exposure to the UV-B wavelength which is necessary for synthesis. There aren't many foods that are high in D, and some of them, like cod's liver, just aren't a regular staple. An egg - a food that's on the recommended list for Vitamin D - packs in 20 IU. The RDA is 400, and current research shows that that's almost certainly much lower than is desirable for optimum health.

So - since the best available medical advice on sun exposure is still "don't", it almost becomes imperative to supplement your diet to make sure you get enough.

I've been taking 1000 IU once or twice a day since November. I can't swear that there's any difference, but I don't feel like I had the performance dropoff that I normally have in the winter, either. I bought a jar of 250 caps (250 x 1000 = 250,000) and as it turns out, I'll swallow the last one Friday morning on my way out of town.

Next post: WHY I'm the luckiest person in the world. Promise.

Tailwinds,
Sandy