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I just got back from biking my first century, the Flying Wheels, which is a preparation for the 2009 STP we’ll ride later this summer. The STP can be done either in a day or two; we’ll do the latter, which will involve two 80-odd mile days. People should be training for it now, and the Flying Wheels is billed as a milestone in one’s regimen. The FW century in particular is supposed to be your prep ride if you’re doing the STP in one day.

The day began inauspiciously with us getting to the start line later than planned and Knox leaning heavily towards doing the 65-mile course rather than the century. The real bummer came as we approached the start line: Knox noticed that one of his rear spokes was broken. That was it; no ride for him! He came back home and dropped the bike off at a repair shop.

Sad as I was to not be biking with Knox, this gave me the opportunity to go for the century and to bike it at my own pace. It was a lot of fun and so strikingly beautiful! I was annoyed by biking with hordes of people at first: it was hard to pass and hard to find my groove. As the ride wore on, however, the rider density decreased and the fellow participants inspired me to keep biking harder. In the Duvall-Snohomish-Duvall loop, which is part of only the century ride, there were some long stretches where I was biking by myself–exhilarating and contemplative, just as I like it.

The difficulty? It was challenging but doable. The first hill was the worst; whether that was the hill itself or my taking it on too fast because of feeling competitive at the start of the race, I couldn’t say. Everything after was manageable and not out of the ordinary—until the approach to Issaquah. The hills there were killing me: though not extremely steep, they were long and my strength was quite obviously ebbing. Based on this ride, I would say I was in good shape for about 80-odd miles, and then exhaustion started to kick in.

Now it’s time for a shower and a rub-down, and anticipation of next weekend’s Tour de Blast.

See, things here just come to a standstill at the first snowflake. The city is hilly, it doesn’t have many plows, and its denizens are not used to driving in such “extreme” conditions. The papers are all atwitter.

We just had two really bright flashes of lightning with really loud, cat-freakout thunder. Thunder-snowstorm?

I’ll be working from home, I guess. But first, I’m getting back in bed.

UPDATE: We now have quite a respectable amount of snow. Not a blizzard, by any means, but the accumulation is non-trivial. The weather phenomenon we experienced this morning, BTW, is called “thundersnow.”

I felt horrible that this crime happened. We’re hearing of more frequent crimes in the neighborhood (residential burglaries) and I wonder how much worse things will get with the economic downturn.

I’m encouraging everyone to use preventive measures: security systems, lighted driveways, pockets that fasten shut, and wrist straps on small, valuable belongings.

I was reminded of this truism today when we went to the Salmon Days celebration in Issaquah. That we need fish hatcheries and salmon ladders speaks to the fact that we have overfarmed this fish. I am just as guilty as anyone, of course. Perhaps this is another instance of the free market failing to account for externalities. I dunno.

At any rate, it was fun being at the fair. I enjoyed seeing salmon still swimming upstream in a creek that must once have been teeming with fish.

It was also quite interesting to see so many flesh-and-blood Republicans walking around, carrying their McCain-Palin signs. I don’t get what they think that ticket will accomplish, but they’re the reason Washington state, overall, leans only slightly Democratic.

When we went to Portland for Soup Swap, we took our skis and snowshoes; who knew whether we’d have a chance to hit the slopes? As it turned out, we were largely urban this weekend. And yet…we managed to hit the Portland Nursery and stop by The Columbia Gorge.

As much as I sometimes miss the urban density of Boston and New York— boy howdy, the Northwest lifestyle is pretty amazing!

Thanksgiving was spent thus, both of us negotiating how to set up house. So far so good: we’re still talking, and we’re still crazy about the house. In fact, life in Judkins Park is quite good: my bus commute is now entirely urban, and Salima, the Cham restaurant down MLK, is a new favorite. Some neighbors even dropped off homemade applesauce to welcome us to the neighborhood!

The real estate market in Seattle has finally started to stabilize this summer. Though we hadn’t been paying particularly close attention, all of a sudden we started noticing “For Sale” signs. Online, we found that more and more houses were staying on the market longer—and even dropping in price.

The significance of this may not be obvious to those who’ve not experienced the recent urban real estate bubbles. The past several years have brought a steady stream of reports on the ever rising home prices in New York, San Francisco, and Boston. As recently as this spring, when two separate friends each bought condos, bidding wars were the norm here in Seattle: you saw a place, you wrote an escalation clause, you crossed your fingers.

Now, with the subprime mortgage bust to thank (?), all that’s changed. We actually have time to look at places a second, third, fourth time. Our realtor gets calls back from selling agents anxiously inquiring whether we liked their properties. We can be picky and watch prices slip as we we walk away.

Buying a home is stressful (more about that later), but one of the pleasures of the whole process has been reaching a long-term milestone. I’d started putting money aside for a down payment years ago, thinking that someday I’d be in a position to get into the market. The pennies piled up, I got on with my life. And now that the opportunity presents itself, we’re ready. How awesome is that?

I beat traffic heading in to work from Doe Bay.

Terribly back-dated entry. Photo system was in flux.