Monthly Archives: December 2011

My First Blog – Pre Trip

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March 2nd, 2010

 

Well…

Here a I go into the world of blogdom. A chance for me, for once, to make sequitur observations about my day mixed with a dab of the opposite. Too much of anything of that nature would have people running to the hills…so they say.

The wind that blew the hooplah of the Olympics to our doorstep, seemed to have picked it up and moved it onto another’s doorstop, who whether they do or do not need it, have no choice to reap and weep the benefits of whatever toll it shall take. Very Mary Poppins of it, no? If only a spoonful of sugar would make such a medicine go down and if sugar is all we need to make this medicine go down, then I’d ask for a second opinion and be very skeptical that what we all swallowed was a big placebo.

No…I won’t be like that. Honestly, to lay it out flat, the Olympics came in to waves for me. The first was an utterly ultimate and complete discontent. I loathed the bus stop inserts saying “Go World” and held back the urge to sharpie in “Some Where Else”. I despised the Anime mascots, especially the bigfoot whose name sounded like everytime I said it I was referring to my junk with an odd Barbara Walter’s lisp.

Where was all this money coming from? Why is there a tent city in Vancouver? How can the arts celebrate the cultural Olympiad knowing that around the corner comes the biggest cuts to the arts in history? Why does Vancouver feel like Big Brother is watching me as I sit slumped in a chipper drunken state on the bus, and that he’s taking notes!?

The second part of me, the second wave, which came about a week into the games came as a shock. Someone, someone dear to me, said how can I be so negative all the time. That wasn’t this person’s exact words, but the gist is there I believe. Anywho, it made Ira Cooper reflect, something he doesn’t normally do unless he is doing coke (reflect….no?). Kidding, I don’t do coke, unless its the good stuff, you know, the one that can melt a penny in a day. The games were here…and to be honest…don’t hate me…but while protesting is an expression of discontent with the system and yada yada, the action of protest when it is not the masses makes as much of an impact as McRib at McDonalds (no one remembers it, but I DO!). And really, the Art Gallery has little to respond to in the way of politics, being that artists don’t usually rebuttle…they just opinionate and flagellate their tongues.

Anwho…so yes! Yay! I was actually excited. I believe my eyes even watered a few times, and this time it had no hidden agenda to meet sensitive women…AT ALL. I walked among the different pavilions, smiling children, girls perched up high above theur lover’s shoulders, lovers wheezing…walking the trip.
Anyways, I shall be abrupt with my bedding hour.

Adieu,

Ira

Each Mile – A Lost Puppy Finds A Way

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Hello Everyone,

My name is Ira Cooper and this is the first post, of many, for Each Mile, a blog and episodic travelogue about my experiences, trials and tribulations in inexperienced, world bike touring.

Why do I say inexperienced? Well, when I decided to bike from Vancouver to Mexico last year I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I hadn’t biked more than probably 30 km in a row. Down the coast wise, that wouldn’t even get me out of this country. But that was the plan, down the coast, for two months. The consequence of doing so, a mere after thought probably processed at the American border where I was greeted with the I 5 and 20 km headwind.

“Why” is what psychiatrists and court room drama show viewers are most interested in. But what they aren’t too keen on is “I don’t know” as the answer. As I look back on it, I make up a plethora of logical sounding reasons; I wanted to prove that I could do it, I was bored. But really, to be dreadfully honest even if it doesn’t give you that tantalizing soundbite to make you want to follow my writing discourse, I really don’t know why I did what I did. What I do know is that from day one, biking was shot carelessly into my blood and everyday I fiend for a fix.

In February I bought my then unnamed black stallion. She cost me $220 and a not for profit bike shop, Our Community Bikes (http://pedalpower.org/our-community-bikes/), which is a wonderful place that everyone should check out if they want to learn, fix, indulge in bike-y-goodness. I attached a flashlight to her, some paniers, a sleeping bag and towels, a tent that a borrowed from a friend and never returned, snug to the back with of my steed with bungee cord. Since I wanted film as I travelled, I also brought a ridiculously heavy backpack with additional supplies. I didn’t really understand what clipless was, so bike shoes were out and Lugz were in. By day two, my spandexy, bulge inducing biking shorts started their new residency on the side of Chucknut Drive, just outside of Bellingham.

I had a GPS that made sure I was going in the right direction and a few tools that I had no idea how to use. On March 16th I was off. Go Pro? Go Handheld (another thing I realized I probably shouldn’t have done). The first few episodes I tried to make the show kitsch with a “hilarious” intro.  Hope you enjoy Episode 1 of Each Mile: