I was recently in North Carolina, coming home from a conference. I stopped by a fruit stand to buy some peaches and strawberries. Surveying the mounds of fresh fruit, I could hardly believe my luck. It was as if time had run. Athens, Georgia, I said. What this man did was make meaning out of his trau.

A bike geek with a gadget obsession and a high-viz fetish. Wednesday, August 12, 2015. On the road bike again. Started at the Bastille, rode to Downtown. Got to participate in a group ride of 32 cyclists. Afterwards I met Yale and we rode to Thick and back to the Bastille.

I remember in grade school, we were told about primitive societies of non-white people that refused to be photographed because they believed the camera would steal their soul. Now we have sophisticated facial recognition.

The Lid Is Off The Cage. My friend Mary and I are both planning on doing solo tours this year and decided to take one last weekend trip before the big one . We are both planning to leave June 11, madly off in different directions. Months ago we booked a campsite at Porteau Cove, a provincial park nestled on the shores of Howe Sound just 40 km north of Vancouver on the Sea to Sky Highway. But we set up camp, try.