It's Kind Of a Funny Story

We all encounter crazy things in life. Some we see coming miles away and others catch us completely off guard. In this particular case I was not prepared in any way for what was about to happen to me. It had a very lasting effect on me and I now have a mild anxiety attack any time anything gets near my ears.You will completely understand why soon.

I had been pretty stressed and decided a quick little mountain bike ride would be the perfect cure. I was half way through the ride when I felt something on my ear. Mind you, I was in motion on my bike and this whole scenario should not be possible. Anyways, like any normal human being I brushed my ear.  Whatever it was did not want to leave the vicinity of my ear and I brushed at it again. This was a mistake. It prompted the foreign predator to crawl inside my ear. The bike ride came to a halt as every fiber in my being began to freak out and I could now hear wings inside my head.The self calming talk kicked in immediately. “Don’t worry its probably a lady bug, or a fly, or a moth, or any other random insect with wings. Little kids stick crap in their ears all the time and they are fine. I will just go to the hospital and they will remove said invader and all will be fine.”  As I began to accept the situation and calm myself down, I was dropped to my knees by the most searing pain I have ever experienced.

All forms of calm were gone. Whatever was in my ear was a deadly bug that was trying to eat it’s way to my brain. My hearing would be lost, it was going to eat my brain, I was going to pass out and die right there on the trail. I was positive that all of these things were true. This also leads me to believe I have seen too many horror movies, but anyways. There was no hope of bringing the bike with me as each instance of searing pain crippled me and was complimented with what were later described as blood curdling screams. In the midst of the screams, and sobs, and pain I was somehow able to call my boss to come take me to the hospital. My work place has a trail system, which I was riding, thus why I called my boss. 

While all this was going on a fellow rider had heard my cries and found me crawling to the trail head. I swore on everything there was something in my ear. He checked my ear and tried to reason with me that there was nothing there. So, now I was not only in the worst pain of my life I was also insane, perfect. I think the pure terror in my eyes finally convinced him otherwise. He came up with the wonderful plan to use my Gatorade to drown the flesh eating mutant in my ear. I was thinking the situation really couldn’t get much worse; when another rider came up on the trail and to my ultimate dismay, it was the president of my company. Completely shaken, with a bug slowly dying in my ear the president of the company grabbed my bike and escorted me from the trails. Not the ideal way to meet the president, but at least it was memorable. 

Upon arrival to the hospital it was confirmed that it was not a flesh eating mutant bug in my ear, but a wasp. For all intents and purposes, they are one in the same to me now.  I had been stung somewhere between 20 and 30 times in my ear canal and ear drum. The nurses tried to flush it out with water and were completely unsuccessful. After 2 hours of what could be considered some sick form of prison torture, I started to faint. I  accepted that this wasp and I were now one and it was not coming out of my ear ever. I wouldn’t let the nurses come near me and gave up. Then one of the geniuses announces “Oh. Well we have an ear nose throat doctor in the hospital. Would u like to go see him?”  Why yes. Why yes I would. Why in the hell didn’t you mention that 2 hours ago!?!?! 

The ENT Doc took one look and informed me "Well this is really really going to hurt, but don't move, if the wasp breaks when I am extracting it, you'll need surgery."  Well that's just super. He wasn't kidding, it hurt like hell. Thankfully, three hours after the little mutant crawled in there, my ear was finally wasp free. So the next time you are having a really bad day, just remember there could be a wasp in your ear.

How do you take your coffee?

I realized this blog is titled bikes travel coffee and all I have really talked about is bikes, so today is about coffee. Though, I am not going to lie, I wrote this in my head today whilst on a mountain bike ride.

Anyways back to that delicious black liquid that fuels my every day!

I think I was destined to be a coffee lover from a young age. My mom and I lived with my grandparents and they would give me a little cup of coffee after she left for work.  I have no idea why they thought giving caffeine to a 4 year old was a good idea, but who am I to judge. Maybe it was some evil plot against my mom; either way I loved my Grandpa like there was no tomorrow. There aren't words that could ever explain how much he meant to me. He was by far, one of my favorite people in the entire world. He towered over me at 6’5. He was at every dance recital, praised every report card and was an endless fountain of knowledge and advice.

We moved out when I was 5 and I didn’t really drink coffee again until I was in high school. I got a job at a local bakery and worked at 5am on Saturday mornings. After work I would head to dance for 3 or 4 hours.  Between working 2 jobs, dancing 5 days a week, school and a social life I never slept; which meant I drank a lot of coffee. I would dump so much cream and sugar in there, that I don’t even know if it could really be considered coffee anymore.

It was about this time, I turned 16 and got my first car. An '89 convertible Lebaron, white with a black top and light blue leather interior.  I know what you’re thinking. you're totally jealous! Try to hold back. The first week I had my car I couldn’t wait to show my Grandpa. A year earlier he had been diagnosed with cancer and was weaker than I had ever seen him. Regardless, he taught me how to check the oil and emphasized that I never let the gas get below a quarter tank. We chatted car details and caught up over a cup of coffee.  As I dumped cream and sugar in mine he informed that “There is only one way to drink coffee kid, and that is to drink it black.” 

He passed away a week later. It was the last time I saw him and I have been drinking my coffee black ever since. As with all of his advice it was completely correct. I now know, that until you drink coffee black you can never really understand what a good cup of coffee is, nor can you appreciate it.

I think it relates to more than just coffee. You can’t really enjoy anything in life until you remove the sugar coat and all the other crap. At first it might be a bit bitter, but then you realize there is so much more to enjoy in the very base of it all. You finally realize that all the other stuff just ruins it. 

So, How do you take your coffee?

-in memory of Daniel Antuna

My Relationship with my Bike

They say falling in love is one of the most incredible and intense feelings; and I would have to say I fully agree. Every spring I fall in love. I really can’t help myself, especially after the painful breakup that happens every winter. I can feel it coming. Days get shorter, temps drop and I spend less and less time with my bike.  Soon the day comes that my mountain bike is stowed away for the winter. We break up and the dry spell begins. If I’m lucky I may get a random hook up over the winter on a vacation to a sunny place, but it will only last a few days and I am back home longing for better times when I could bike every day.  

Then one day the snow starts to melt, the ground starts to dry and there is hope that maybe soon the dry spell will be broken. Then it happens. The trails open. All day all I can think about is that first ride and nothing else seems to matter. Every muscle screams and the lungs burn, but my bike and I have been reunited. All I think about is the next ride and all I want to do is ride every waking hour of the day. All other activities are completed more efficiently to make more time for my bike.  

I ride until I can’t think anymore, until the entire world disappears, until all that is left is me, my bike and the trail and I fall in love over and over and over again.