As the hours tick down here in southern california, as a winter storm finally sprinkles a little water on this dusty dry chaparral, as I wrap up electronic loose ends, check money and head over to the shop to box olde Loni up for the return trip to Italy, as I pack clothes into bags, as I look around to make sure I haven't forgotten anything, I cant help but feel an overwhelming sense of....well actually....LOVE.

Yesterday I rode 100k round trip (20 in the POURING RAIN) for a burrito!

I joked with myself the whole way about what today's blog post might read like. I started thinking about this epic story of a man who braves weather reports of thunderstorms on his bike all the way up to north county just for one last carnitas plate at his favorite mexican fast food joint. It was going to read like an epic poem - classy. Then I started thinking about stopping by unannounced to the workplace of Tammy Nugent. I started thinking about how I had all these great plans to surprise her by bicycle this winter, and that most of them did not happen. Not because it wasnt important, but because we really maximized our time together on the weekends. And I started thinking about how much I will miss her.

Now, anyone close to me has heard me say it before, my little rant about using the "L-Word" and my thoughts on telling someone I love them when I have been quite vocal about loving things like pizza and the colour blue, ranting that I want relationships to be more special than that, that we all need to be more creative about the words we use to tell someone they mean something to us. And I thought about how far I would go for love, even if it was just a much missed food item.

I thought about the challenges I have faced aboard a bike in the last 3 years, about the miles covered and the growth on two wheels. I thought about how much all of you mean to me and how far physically I have removed myself from your lives and about how much more I could be doing to stay connected. As my mind wandered through stories of rides and places I have seen I came back to the reason I started the blog in the first place, and I remembered WHO it was for. This whole idea of telling stories to stay connected, and to inspire adventure and imagine possibilities no matter how tough life gets, was started because of the love Tammy and the fabulous Rice Kids showed me back in 2009, in some dark times no-one even knew I was struggling with. Their friendship kept me hopeful when I was quickly running out of hope.

I often wonder what the trips to Italy would feel like if I had not reconnected with the friends I have here in So-Cal, with my friends everywhere, with you. I think about what life in Italy would be like without your love. And that's the word I use to conceptually refer to all that it is you give me. LOVE. But wondering what life would be like without the love one has is ridiculous, except to say that its the start to really truly appreciating what it is I have.

Its my birthday today and the birthday wishes (and a few really good insults) have been trickling in all morning, another way that I feel loved. When you wake early in the morning to a message from your best mate that simply reads "Happy Birthday twat donkey! Suck a fat one for breakfast!!!" how could you feel anything except love in its truest form? Or the pulling at my heart as I pack up my stuff and get ready to say goodbye for a while? Or the anticipation of sad faces and teary eyes as I walk towards a gate? Or the reminders of all my childhood hurt Ill feel as I say bye to Aubrey and Carson, two of the funnest kids I know who have been witness to the love I have for their mom.

Its no new info to most of you that her love has been an evolving and challenging thing for me this year. Only in the sense that at times I want to be closer to her than Italy, and that she has challenged me to let go of the issues of my past and allow life to unfold. I'm taking a huge chance here by putting this out there publicly but I'm ok with my love for her. Without it none of the experiences I have had in the last 2 years would be possible and thankfully I wont have to know Italy without her love. Which is something my overactive and hungry brain kept tossing around yesterday as I powered up another hill drooling for carnitas. I worry too much about the loss of love. Time to start appreciating the love I do have, for life, for her, and for all of you.

Thank you very much. None of the adventure you read here would be possible without your love. And if I haven't said it lately...know that I love you.

Scotty Thinkstoomuch McSappyPants

getting closer to go time...

I'm sleeping well but not sleeping much...thoughts running through my head from the time I wake up till the time I crash, even a bike ride yesterday could not quell the storm of thoughts running wild.

This trip back to California has been a wild one, all at once rocky and smooth, quiet and loud, chaotic and peaceful, lovely and yucky and I suppose I had an epiphany yesterday that I should just accept this life as ordinary, one where the daily fluctuations of mind and heart are just the same as the next guy. Of course I don't want to be the same as the next guy, and my life has not been that of the next guy for the last couple years, I sometimes forget that I'm on a journey here, not just an ordinary life.

Yesterday a Dude named John came into the bike shop. He was refereed by a customer who has continually ignored me when I am there and so I was at first skeptical. But John has only recently returned from living in Northwestern Italy for 3 years with his partner, John is also a cyclist for life, an old track hag, and a dude who can tell you within a 5 year window how old the old bike you have is, and when it was made, and what brand it probably was - the guy is a bike guy through and through and I talked to him for about a half hour yesterday. We told some Italy stories and complained about american food, but most importantly I think we somehow validated each others experiences.

This winter I have at times forgotten about the life I live back in Italy. I have been caught up in making a little money here, keeping my days balanced between what I want to do and what those I love want to do, staying on my bike as much as possible through injuries, weather, expectations, and alternative plans, trying to love and be loved no matter what my expectations of that are, and generally just getting through the days and the weeks. I've been comparing these two "homes" and trying to reason though a judgement, trying to simply pick one and stick with it, commit to one life and make it fully mine. San Diego has been far more dynamic than I expected this year. Sharing stories with John yesterday made me realize that coming back to San Diego in the winter is very much a part of the static and dynamic metaphysics that guides my decision making. The dynamic shifts create personal growth and a deepening of values and the static ratcheting creates a comfortable space to absorb the new changes.

I wrote on the train just a week ago that "reason is my static ratcheting mechanism" and by that I felt that it was the opposite of dynamic decision making and DO-ing. I think too much, its true, but not in the sense that I think more than others, but in the sense that I spend a ton of time thinking about what it is I should or could do, but very little time actually DO-ing what it is I have reasoned to be the best course of action. It makes me an armchair philosopher, not a man of action, and it might be the source of some self loathing, definitely the motivator behind yesterdays ride when sitting around thinking was starting to feel counter-productive and mentally taxing. I needed to DO SOMETHING!

Every single hour of every single day from here till the time I board a plane is spoken for, planned out, reserved and marked on the list...Nothing else can be added and very little can be moved around, and as much as I feel confined by my own plans, its the best thing for me this close to yet another massive shift in my reality. Sure, I know more and more what to expect with the transition but it is still a tough transition to make twice a year. I'm living the ultimate double life - one here in the sunny winter months with love and family and friends and good people who speak my language, the other there in Italy with barriers, a ton of work, a few friends that are getting closer every year, my own bedroom, and a place to keep my toothbrush, no more travel size! Both lives have their positive and negatives - because both lives are mine. Both lives are governed by the broad range of human emotion - because both lives are mine. And both lives are what I WANT - because both lives are mine.

Looking forward to the next dynamic shift, reasoning my way through it, and sharing it with you as I go.

S.

Hey JE-RE-MYYYY.....(dont read it, SING it!)

remember these guys...

if you sing along but insert the name Jeremy, this little Bad Ass will buy you a beer...

That's Jeremy. This is also Jeremy...

and I haven't seen either one in a long while. Good Times. The later is my best buddy from high school and he joined us out for a wild night of not making it to the festival of animation and drinking really tall beers, all the while telling tales of lighting farts on fire, road trips and the dumb shit we got up to in school.

GONDOLA!!!!!!

The other Jeremy is the soul-mate-life-partner of one Jonny Pacific, tattoo artist, music encyclopedia, bike jerk, and all around solid funny dude. Jonny and I ran in overlapping circles for a long time and this was my first real visit with him. Turns out we overlapped for years, in San Diego music circles, bike circles, and circle jerks. I took the train up to LA to see him and his missus, spend some quality time with Jeremy, and participate in the anarchy of a trade economy, me tuning bikes in the kitchen, him tattooing in the living room. Blood was let, beers were spilled, and animal dander was shed...a great way to spend a couple days.

the beautiful Union Station in LA

Jonny makes one hell of a loaf...

you know its done when you can pinch it...

and Jeremy does one hell of a sharpei impersonation...

and if Zero the Cat would just tune down the bitchiness just a tad she would have made the blog more often...

Jonny wanted to use me as a guinea pig for a red he mixed we decided was called Robin Masters

and a machine he bought in Mexico that was completely apropos

inner thigh piece...

Imagine this pic with a big black box...the jokes and laughs were endless...kinda why I have saved these ideas for Jonny to do.

And it WAS valentines day afterall...hence the heart...and the fact that nothing says I love you like a little tea-bagging...

more beers, a little whiskey, loads of laughs and some touch up work on the 5 Jonny did for me back in early '09 and on to the forearm piece...

more than a bit sauced at this point, the missus, Michelle was insistent on cutting the dead shit out of my hair, shes a wicked good stylist who has been known to give free haircuts to passed out idiots...I seriously nodded off like 4 times.

down for the count, up at 11 to tune some bikes and work my way to the train station...back in SD for a little ride home and crashed out!

It was a GREAT visit! For those of you who have been thinking of getting some tattoo work done, save up those ideas, save up a few quid and let me know. We talked a lot about a working vacation to Italy too, where my third drawing will make it to skin,

tres mas amigos, tres mas...

In a similar vein of last weeks post, I have decided to post once a week till I split, with photographs to tell most of the story, cause lets face it, if I get into the very minutiae details, the stuff that goes through my busy head, and the shifts I take on the daily you will either be bored, worried, or might suggest residential treatment...none of which makes a very good story. So here you go...

decided on a sunday evening bike ride last weekend to catch the sunset...

monday did a little shopping and spotted the worlds smallest Comfort Dog International

did some online shopping to make Robbie Jealous

On my way around town to do some thrift store shopping, spotted an old bike that looks kinda like new bikes...

Wednesday I "worked" a little...actually met two ladies on a two year journey round the world, and got to clean up their mojo-covered rigs...

while Kev-Air tried out his new boob...

Wednesday nite went to a rock and roll concert...

And early saturday morning made my way back up to Scripps to hang with the Rice Family, visit old friends, go to birthday dinners, get a little Guy-Time, and have a rad dinner...always a great time. One the way up this time though I crossed a bridge that kind of made me stop and think for a minute. It struck me like everything in So-Cal that just somehow doesnt sit right with me, feeling like I dont fit in on my bike with the lifestyle I want to live. It was a sight that caused a mix of emotions for me as I pedaled towards a family that loves me so much feeling a little out of place.

most of you probably just see a bridge, a matrix of criss-crossed elevated freeways...I know I know...

Sunday provided an opportunity for a little Guy-Time with Carson, and we were treated to a beautiful and mighty tasty pan-asian styled dinner prepared by the ladies Aubrey and Tammy...

whose got two thumbs and can cook pan asian like its nobody's business? THIS GAL!

Monday was back to work and school, save for olde scotty boy...I got to take the long way back to Cousin's hood in the multi-phase mixed conditions adventure ride Im really starting to love... about 50 miles, plenty of dirt and a mix of business parks, neighborhoods, and beach front boardwalks...

I took this to mean Polo, or Fox Hunts or things like that...no jai alai...

Penasquitos Canyon is a place where I have had a lot of firsts. Its the first place I took my first real mountain bike that I saved up for months to buy, its the first place I jumped a log, the first place I got poison oak, the first place I smoked a cigarette with Mike Mannis, its the first place I did a night ride, its very close to the first place I fell in love and had my first dry-humping session (two separate occasions for the record) and the first place I go to when Im in SD county on a bike. Its an important place to me and a place where I always find more than I expected. In this case the photo below captures that unexpected pretty well, a dude jogging, in a KILT, and an army pack, with a fucking bichon frise show dog in tow...sometimes the weirdest thing in the canyon is what you bring in there with you, other times its shit like this!

out of the canyon under the shadows of the freeways again...

and another path of dirt...

and more 6 lanes in every direction city surface streets...

and back to the safety of the canyons...

Once I hit the beach I started looking for a coffee spot. NOTHING! But I did run into a guy named Kermit ("Like the frog Dude!" he exclaimed) who talked to me for quite a while about bikes, life, love and getting stoned. Seriously this cat had some crazy wild stories and claimed that in the past three weeks he had spent every day on his new bike getting high and just riding all over town. It was his first month of retirement and I cant say he was using it poorly. 32 years in the Navy and a life full of choices and lessons, parties and sorrow and this guy was going to have a blast with the first years of his life in which he did not have to get up in the morning for anything but himself and his bike, getting ready for Alaska to Argentina this summer. May the road always rise to meet you Kermit!

I found some coffee in Ocean beach and wrote down as much of Kermits story as I could remember before heading on my way. Yet another path, my last bit of dirt for the day and made it back up to Cousin's hood after 6 hours on the bike. A great way to start the week, even if Im chasing a head-cold and laying low.

More to come....

S.