Pooks Canyon

A year ago, when planning our move to Belgium, I said to Jon that he needed to take me to Paris for our anniversary. What a man... he did it! So on Tuesday night we drove the 3 hours to Paris and checked into the Hotel Leveque on Rue Cler. It was a good thing we planned to drive because the Paris public transit workers are on strike. This is major because the metro (subway) is generally the efficient, quick first choice of travelers and Parisians alike for navigating Paris. Taxis were highly impacted and a lot of stuff was basically shut down because employees could not get to work. Night one we wandered into a restaurant called "Pasco" and enjoyed risotto (me) and fish and eggplant (him). In France eggplant tastes better because it is called aubergine, mushrooms taste better because they are champignions. Just my opinion. The next day we ate crepes (with champignions) and then went to rent some bikes. Paris has a great self-checkout bicycle rental system, with over 750...

Yesterday, while driving back from Paris with Jon, it occurred to me that it was Thanksgiving Day. I said, "Happy Thanksgiving." To which Jon replied, "It isn't Thanksgiving yet, is it?" Hmmm, none of the usual turkey decor, workplace time off, and trips to see family were there to clue us in. I had remembered TG earlier in the week and mentioned to Emily (the hairstylist at La Belle Frisee) that Thursday was an American holiday. She asked if it was one of those American holidays with presents. Explaining Thanksgiving, I said it is a time to have a feast with your family. Besides family, people also open up their homes to friends that have nowhere to go. Before eating, it is customary to give thanks for all the things you have gratitude for throughout the year, but may not express. Wow, America came up with this? And regardless of the "Day After" shopping and Christmas onslaught, the actual Thursday is pretty pure. I know that some people say...

It seemed like today's Superprestige in Gavere had more spectators than any race yet, perhaps the scene is just becoming more alive as the season rumbles on. I think there were over 10,000 people in attendance. Frite stands and beer tents were liberally sprinkled about in the woods across the hill which made for a fun spectating experience. The race course was unique in its hillside position, which provided ample opportunity for muddy uphill slogs and out-of-control downhill slides. The women's race was dominated by Katie Compton, who we were able to chant for on the last lap and congratulate in the parking area. She seemed pleased with the result and is optimistic about next weekend in Koksijde. Strangely, having insufficient safety pins turned out to be the most expansive experience of the day, sparking a search mission of international proportions. First I went to Jonathan Page's RV and asked Cori, his wife, if she had any. I thought this was a good bet because t...

Spent the day in Hasselt for the latest installment of the GVA Trofee race series. It was a bit of a haul from Brugge so we left early. In the parking lot we met a half a dozen superfans (the Flemish like to wish Jon, "Much success!") who asked for Jon's trading card and some even wanted an autograph. We also met Reeve, a dude from Seattle, who flew out to Belgium just to watch cyclocross for a few weeks. We really are at the nougaty center of the sport here. After our course preview and Jon's warm-up we met back at the van for pre-race prep. Jon asked me to change out the pedals on his "C" bike (3rd of 3). Honored. I hop out of the van and grab the new pedals, pedal wrench, and large hex wrench. The moment I place the wrench on the pedal several Belgian men walk up behind me, cross their arms, and begin to converse animately in Flemish. Oh geez. I try to think back to my lessons from Peavey at Chico Cyclesport. There's some trick to how you a...

Warning, this is a long video (6 minutes) of us in Paris and may only be suitable for grandmas.

The morning drive to the Pijnacker race site started with a phone call to Mark Legg, Katie Compton's mechanic, husband, and all-around nice guy. He had volunteered to help Jon in the pits for the next two World Cups so we were discussing details. By the time he was actually pitting for Jon that afternoon he was a very happy man. Katie, UCI points leader and home-state girl, won her first World Cup. This was the first 'cross World Cup victory to be claimed by an American - ever. As I stood in the start area before the men's race the Star Spangled Banner played and I sang it - much to the delight of the Dutch fans (probably because they could not actually hear me). It was a "Proud to be an American" moment and I heartily thank and congratulate Katie. She beat 2nd place Daphny van den Brand by a minute. WOW! Jon's race was another mud fest, though it couldn't quite compare to Neil. The beer tent in Holland was much smaller and people drank the hot win...

On a drizzly Saturday morning we drove from Brugge to Niel, Belgium for the latest installment of the GvA Troffee series. Jon's premonition: "It's going to be a real mudder." The minivan was freshly emblazoned with large stickers reading "Jon Baker" and "Primus Mootry" (compliments of A.J. at Victory Circle Graphics) which made it easier to successfully find, and park in, the Elite Racer parking area. We parked right next to Chris Jones, USA. Once Jon was settled, Dad and I headed out to preview the course. For us, this meant finding the start, the finish, the pits, and, critically, the beer tent. After walking about 200 meters past the finish line, the course turned to greasiest, sludgiest, muddy cow pasture I've ever seen. Good thing we had donned our knee-high rubber boots. With the beer tent shimmering in the distance like a Belgian oasis, we trudged across the field. Several inordinately large piles of dark substance in the field w...

I want some hot Euro jeans! Doesn't everyone - deep down? I went to "Brooklyn" (of all places) where they have lots of cool jeans at fair prices. The shop girl said, "Mag ik u met iets helpen?" To which I replied, "I only speak English." Then she said, "May I help you?" I explained that I was from the United States and that I was looking for some hot Euro jeans though perhaps not using those same words. While helping me the shop girl said, "You don't look like the typical American." Given my outfit consisted of what I put on in a darkened room this morning (see below) for the mere purpose of being clothed at breakfast, I was very flattered: But as I am trying on the jeans I start wondering, what does this mean, I don't look like an American? Does this mean I don't have fluffy blond hair and enormous white teeth? So I say, "I'm curious, what did you mean when you said I don't look like an American? What d...

After the kinderen were put to bed, Jon and I decided to go out for some tea/beer (him tea/me beer) and possibly some dessert. I had walked past a picturesque little alley restaurant called de Vlaamsche Pot (the Flemish Pot) several times and wanted to go. So we went. After receiving our menus the waiter approached to take our order, we ordered some drinks and asked if we could see the dessert menu. The waiter rapidly shook his head and said, "but no, we cannot do thees, you must order entrees in order to eat here." I said we'd already had dinner but perhaps we might peruse the menu. As he walked away there was much more head shaking; about halfway across the room he actually stopped, turned to look at me, and shook his head again. He returned after we closed our menus. We asked to split the rabbit stew. More rapid head shaking (perhaps he will need chiropractic work in the morning) and, "no, no, no, we cannot spleet entrees." I, of course, must prolong ...

Jon submitted his race diary this week to Velo News and we've been waiting to see if they publish it. Today we checked out their website and saw what we at first thought was Jon's diary but turned out to be a very nice follow-up article on how things are going for Jon in Belgium.

Leah teaches me a new Flemish word daily, today’s word was boekentas (book-n-toss) which means backpack (or bookbag, more precisely). It’s Leah's birthday today. When I picked her up at school I asked one of her English-speaking classmates how to say Happy Birthday in Dutch. She kept repeating it to me and I kept repeating it back, eliciting peals of laughter from all the children. I hope they don’t think Leah’s mom is crazy.

It's surprising, but there is a third rider here (no, not on a grassy knoll). Upon careful inspection you will see an orange bike in the background and a part of a knee off to the right. You guessed it! That's Breaker Baker :)

Went for a bike ride today and ended up having a coffee in Holland. Jon and I rode along the canals on our way out to the North Sea coastline; somewhere along the line we passed a sign saying we were approaching the town of Sluis. At this point Jon whips out a map and tells me we have made a wrong turn and are in Holland. Yay. Instead of dashing of to the nearest hash bar we settled instead for a nice coffee. An "Espresso" here is a cup of coffee and a "Mokka Espresso" is a regular shot of espresso. Dunno how to order a Mocha but it would probably involve the word chocolade. So I ordered a mokka espresso and Jon had a cappuccino and an appelbol. As we drank our coffee we speculated as to what the Appelbol would be. A bowl of apple? Mais non, it was a ball of apple. More precisely is was a peeled and cored apple, stuffed with cinnamon butter and wrapped in pastry crust. The effect is a spherical piece of apple pie. Delicious. Satisfied, we cycled off, circ...