Monday, January 26, 2009

Arrival...the beginning of it all.

So here I am, settling in to Fort Worth, Texas. Wasn't a place I ever pictured living but I was pleasantly surprised by what I found and things happening the way they do, ended up moving to this place a lot of people call Cowtown. Thats how the new adventure begins.

I have lived in several locales throughout the United States, and done a lot of cycling in just about all of them. Each has presented some difference, as would be expected. Northeast, Southwest, Southeast and now...Texas. And that is the first point of note. Most areas of the U.S. get classified by a region. Texas being what it is, is a region in itself. Not really the southeast, southwest or midwest, but a collision of some of all I suppose. And Texas doesn't like to be lumped in with other states. It is, after all, Texas, and stands separate by itself. With good reason too, I suspect. Now, all states certainly have their unique identities but I think it is safe to say that most have a pretty good preconception of what Texas is all about, and a lot of the stereotypes have already quickly proven to be true. Not in a bad way mind you. Everything is bigger in Texas, and everyone seems to like the place. I have yet to find a friend or associate who has spent any time here that doesn't have largely positive things to say. This, I hope, is a good sign.

So having arrived in the new place, it is time to get things in order. Unpacking.
As anyone who has ever moved can attest, the process of moving is not fun. The excitement of new opportunities and hope is probably what keeps us chugging along, like the settlers who loaded all of their belongings into wagons and undertook the arduous cross country moves so many years before. But I don't want to compare my experience to theirs, as there really are not a lot of similarities. Towards the end I would venture to say I more likely resembled a junky, ranging through the streets, desperately seeking a way to score that next high. Except the junky would have likely been cleaner, smelled better, and had a marginally better disposition.
The big score for me was just getting the last of my belongings moved and unloaded into the new place. While there are still a few loose articles in my cars, I will consider that phase complete.
Now unpacking the actual boxes. Walls of boxes, most of which are not in the actual rooms where they need to go to be unpacked. This process is going slower than expected. Due in part to the feeling that there is now a little time to catch my breath, or my likely due to the inherent procrastinator that wins my internal battles about 71% of the time when the task is not of major importance.
It is Wednesday, January 24th, and the weather is beautiful. Temperatures in the 70s. This is definitely not good weather for unpacking. So the unpacking is going slowly. The key elements are being organized, mainly, vital kitchen and bathroom articles, clothing, and bicycle junk.
This last is critical because the next two days are forecast to be more of the same--sunny, near record high temps...yeah, packing may just have to take a little longer. Some key introductions need to be made, specifically, 700c to Fort Worth pavement type.
The "training", if I could call it that, has taken a serious backburner in the past few weeks, so it is time to start getting things back in order if I want to be competitive anytime in the near future. By near I mean between April and November.
If nothing else, I just really need to get out and ride...

1 comment:

  1. Welcome to Fort Worth. As you've seen in the Overton Park area, Fort Worth isn't all flat, although it may be flatter than you're used to. Where did you live last? Where have you done most of your cycling?

    From what I read, I am a slug compared to you. I ride my bike (a 1994 Nishiki Sport XRS) to work, and I ride several vintage bikes- a 1966 Raleigh DL-1, a 1973 Schwinn Varsity and a 1983 Raleigh Marathon- all old steel bikes. I suspect if I ever get a modern bike I could keep up with most people, but I'm not as much into the competition as I am into the experience. There's something sublime about running a 40-year-old bike around.