For our final cyclocross race of the year, we pulled into the Kelly Creek park and were met with three inches of snow and ice as far as the eye could see.
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The past two months had been full gas of singlespeed cyclocross racing plus a few alleycats and drunken weekday rides thrown in for extra merriment. The mind and the body had thrown in the towel in search of rest and recovery.
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The Katrina search and rescue phase had ended and we transitioned to working on the environmental disasters left in its wake.
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Struggling to remember life outside the destruction.
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The Washington Post wrote a much-needed, uplifting editorial about how the Coast Guard was the silver lining of an otherwise dismal response to Katrina.
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A window into “the shit is on fire” show.
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The sobering reality of what it is like to try and rescue people from the floodwaters of Katrina sinks in.
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Forty eight hours ago I finished my last track race of the season. Right now I sit at a table in the small Alexandria, Louisiana, convention center that is home to the U.S. Coast Guard Region 8 command post.
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I'm leaving in a few minutes for the airport, heading to the command post in Alexandria, Louisiana, to work on the Hurricane Katrina response.
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Recap and photos from my eight-day tour of the San Juan Islands and lower Vancouver Island
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It doesn’t happen often enough, but there are times when it seems an angel reaches out to you, and before they disappear, you understand that you are not alone.
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Eight years after being humiliated on a climb in the San Juan Islands, I returned with my fixed gear bike, Rosemary, as a new person with something to prove.
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