Asian American, Native Hawaiian, Pacific Islander Heritage Month… and Bicycles

May is Asian American Native Hawaiian Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month, and coincidentally it’s Bike Month. Having written a number of times about racism in general, attending two Black Lives Matter movement bike rides / protests, and also about Native Americans, I’d be remiss if I didn’t touch on this community. As a white person, I certainly have no right to speak for them (and I’m not). But I can certainly show a few faces and amplify their voices one tiny bit. It’s always worth being curious, seeking understanding, and being part of the wider world by doing more than just eating ethnic cuisine if and when the opportunity arises. Here are a few things I learned, and let’s meet a few great cyclists as well.

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Another Day, Another Bike Ride

Here at A Dude Abikes, we (that is, the royal we) appreciate guts, intestinal fortitude, and chutzpah. That extends to anyone taking the chance, choice, and time to read. Though we know we’re no ex-Prince Harry, we do like to think of ourselves as having a quality that our former overlapping roommate said one day recently, i.e. intrepid. It’s been raining buckets here in Central Texas (a good thing because we’re behind for the year). I told the roomie, who’s quite a cyclist, that I was going for a walk, despite the chance of rain and not having slept a lot (partially because of his late and early packing racket). That’s when he said I was intrepid. I thought, “Hey, that’s pretty cool, like James Bond or something.” I’m not in possession of the sort of high-caliber intrepitude (if that wasn’t a word, it is now) that sprinters like Mark Cavendish do, I manage to climb the mountain of a number of good habits every day. Every day could be our last on the bike or other things, but I’m grateful that I was able and am glad to report that today was not the end. It was another day, another bike ride.

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Texas Mamma Jamma Ride Update: All Aboard the Big Pink Bus

Your bike dude here has participated in six charity rides, raising over $12,000. That’s my proudest accomplishment as a bike rider starting back in 2015 B.B. (Before Blog). Well, riding around the world in under five years probably ties that. Many of those miles came from TMJR and other training rides. Three of the charity rides were for the Texas Mamma Jamma Ride to raise funds for breast cancer treatment and services. Thanks to the coronavirus, the non-profit organization has had to adapt and reinvent itself to survive. And it’s done so quite smartly by becoming the fundraising arm for the Big Pink Bus, a project of the Lone Star Circle of Care (LSCC), which operates 24 health clinics in half a dozen Central Texas counties. This seems like important news and sharing is caring, so read on!

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A New Abode in Which to Abide for A Dude Abikes

A year ago today, on Cinco de Mayo, I wrote a post about having to move. I called it Moving A Dude’s Abode and Body: A Buddhist View. In it, I reflected on stuff, attachment, cravings, and even death. You might be expecting another installment, all kinds of new pearls of wisdom after a year of THE VIRUS!, but for the life of me, I can’t think of any at the moment. So I’m going to write about the things I will miss in this place. I know the title is about the new residence, and I can hear you saying, “That’s not what was advertised in the title.” To that I’d say, “Well, that’s just like, you know, your opinion, man!” But I’ll get to that, just cool your jets, pump your brakes, and slow your roll, OK? Good.

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Rents and Temperatures: Things That Are Rising in Austin

Spring in Austin, Texas is usually a short-lived affair. Now, after a week of rain, the heat is on, and the humidity is high. Or as I call it, the stupidity. If all the rich idiots from California moving here with their First World dollars did their research, they would not come here. It’s very hot (and not ofttimes, not a dry heat), there’s bad traffic, cedar fever, other rich Californian idiots, and oh yeah, the homeless. Our so-called liberal city chose on Saturday to ban camping, sitting, or even lying down in public again after 23 years. Hypocrites. It does nothing to house the houseless, which I’m always on the verge of becoming, as I recently detailed in my post Homelessness Has Him House Hunting; Hounds of Hell at Heels. With tempers flaring from that political battle and the rising thermometer, plus ample reasons for my own head to get hot, I figured I would blow off a little steam. Trigger warning: “Bad words” ahead!

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Sophie the Fairdale Gets a New Drive Train from Clown Dog Bikes (Again)!

If you’re a loyal reader of A Dude Abikes, this may seem like a little deja vu. On October 24, 2019, I wrote Sophie Gets a New Drive Train, and She Rides Like Buttah. Many thousands of miles later (6,666.66 in 2020 alone), she was past due for another replacement of some very worn and pretty filthy parts. You could say that Sophie has been a dirty girl. Grit and grime attach themselves to the oil on the chain, chain ring and cassette. The teeth or cogs wear down, the chain stretches, and tends to slip off when changing gears — especially on hills or high pressure. So I took her to the friendly neighborhood shop that’s been serving the University of Texas for about 20 years, and let the pros at Clown Dog Bikes take care of bidness.

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Lean Into It: When Bicycling and Life Throw You a Curve Ball

One day maybe a year or so ago — the pandemic has proven that time is a human construct and has lost all meaning — I was talking with my father, who art in another town in Texas. I must have been griping about some problem or another when he just blurted out, “Lean into it.” I was taken aback that he would know this phrase uttered more by hipper millennials. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I gathered my wits and said, “What do you mean?” I don’t remember the exact words but they were along the lines of “go with the flow,” or “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” possibly an explanation, “just accept that’s how things are and do your best, don’t worry about it.” Good stuff, Dad!

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What to Do When You Don’t Feel Like Writing Your Blog

You know how sometimes actors will look into the camera and talk to the audience? It’s called “breaking the fourth wall.” Well, this post is similar to that. I’m pulling back the curtain to say, sort of like when you’re out on a long bicycle ride and your body just isn’t up to the task and you turn to your fellow riders (or yourself) and say, “I just don’t have it, today, mates.” Everyone has off days; nothing wrong with that. We’re not human bicycling machines. (Yet.) Sure, I could come up with something bike-related, or talk about some picayune detail of cycling, but I’m just going to go wherever this writing about not knowing what to write takes me. I don’t know what you do when you don’t feel like writing your blog — of course, you do you. But I know what I do: I write my damn blog.

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