WHEN BLACKBERRIES ATTACK! (And Other Pre-Tour Stories)
The blackberry is a fine fruit, though not as tasty as raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, lingonberries, huckleberries, and most other berries. Even so, it is a berry and I prefer berries over things like apples, peaches, bananas, oranges, mangoes, and uglifruit.
The good news for me is that blackberries grow like crazy along the small roads and bike trails heading out of the City of Seattle, into the eastern suburbs, and all the way to the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. I know, because I've been seeing them on my daily bike rides and I frequently stop to grab a handful of those big fat berries. They have a nice mix of tartness and sweetness. A hungry bike rider could find as many wild blackberries as he desires and eat them until his stomach is full or until he vomits. (Just to let you know, I didn't vomit.)
The bad news, I've recently learned, is that the blackberry vines are basically a weed, a very invasive weed. Once they've established themselves, they're almost impossible to stop. They not only overrun natural plant life, but they have thorns . . . AND THEY ATTACK! I know this from first hand experience.
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As a result of that event, I am considering a life-long boycott of wild growing blackberries. From now on I'll just get my blackberries from a plastic container at the local food co-op, thank you.
Before I move on to the next subject, I have a little advice for my fellow bike touring compadres in Minnesota and other predominantly flat states. Go to Seattle and ride your bike up a few of the hills from the Puget Sound up to the Capitol Hill District. After a few laps up and down the Denny Street and James Street hills, I think I'm prepared for whatever climbing I have ahead of me on my tour.
The only thing I've encountered so far on my trip out west that was worse than an attack of blackberry thorns and some lung-bursting climbs up the Denny Street hill was a hail storm just east of Gillette, Wyoming. The Feeshko and I were driving under sunny Wyoming skies while listening to the radio. We enjoyed watching lightning bolts flashing out of dark clouds far off in the distance. We kind of laughed off a "severe storm warning" that came over the radio station. The warning specifically mentioned the exact section of Interstate 90 we were on, but the clouds and lightning seemed so remote that we ignored the National Weather Service announcement to seek shelter. A minute later we were being pelted by golfball-size hail.
We pulled to the side of the road and waited it out. The pounding on the roof of our car was pretty scary to The Feeshko and me, but it was positively devastating to our dog, Diggity. He crawled up between us and shivered with fright. The hail storm lasted perhaps ten minutes, but that was enough to pockmark our car with dozens of dents. We were thankful that none of them were in our windshield.
Previously, I've only seen pea-sized hail in my lifetime, so I was excited about graduating to a whole new level of hail measurement while, at the same time, being thankful that I didn't skip a few grades and move right on up to baseball or softball-sized hail.
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So now that I've spent all this time writing about my experience in a hailstorm--while in an automobile--it is now time to explain how it relates to bicycle touring. Here it is: It made me think about how I would handle golfball-size hail if I were to encounter it while riding my bike in the middle of some wide open spaces. I'm pretty sure my natural instinct would have involved panic. Now, however, after getting the opportunity to give it due consideration, my plan would be to keep my helmet on, get off the road, dig out my closed-cell foam sleeping pad, and hunker down underneath it. If I have time, I would then wrap the rainfly of my tent around me and the sleeping pad. I think I'd still be a little afraid, but I also think it could be a pretty cool adventure.
Here are a few more pictures from our trip:
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2 years ago
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Sheesh, ya had ta go all the way to Washington to get hailed on? Couldn’t ya just leave the car in the driveway and save on the gas?
Well, it’s different, I tell ya.
Kidding aside , I’ve been saving your journal to help me through my recovery from eye surgery. Not being able to ride for a month (arrrgh) or even leave the house for a week, I’ll take in a chapter or two every day and that ought to help « see » me through (get it? OK, i’ll leave shortly). So you can expect comments and snide remarks, a bit late-ish maybe, but none the less sincere, or as sincere as I get, which truth be told isn’t much, but there you are.
Looking forward to the next installments,
Keith
5 years ago
Judging by the humor in your snide remarks and your minimal sincerity, I assume the surgery went well and you are on the road to a full recovery. A month without a bike ride is the ultimate sacrifice for a full recovery, I'd say.
I truly appreciate you reading this and I hope my journal does help you through your recovery, but I also fear some of the stuff you are about to read might be so ridiculous that your eyes could pop right out of your head. That situation, of course, would require another round of surgery.
Your pal, Greg
5 years ago