Cross Crusade #7 and SSCXWC: A new cross racer is born

Somehow, and I’m not quite sure how, my eight-year-old son, Dylan, decided he wanted to ride in a Kiddie Kross race. I tried not to pressure him, just suggested it. Really. I made sure he was aware of the risks, the trials and tribulations of cross racing, the veritable behemoth of obstacles that lie ahead of him. He still wanted to ride. Then, I pulled out the big guns. I told him to do it for him, not for me. I told him I wouldn’t be disappointed if he decided not to ride. He still wanted to. I’d be lying if I told you there wasn’t a small tear of pride forming in my left eye, so I won’t pretend that there wasn’t. At any rate, last Sunday we got his bike ready, dressed him up in some bike/rain/mud friendly attire and ventured...

Off to the Cross Races

Last weekend I took my kids to the Cross Crusade series races at the Alpenrose Dairy Velodrome. It was the first time at a cross race for all of us, but we had a good time. Tons of people were there, but everything (aside from the parking) seemed to be really well-organized. We only had a chance to catch the last half of the Men’s Clydesdales and the Masters Category C 35+ races. I really wanted to stay for the kiddie cross race (if not for my kids to see it) and also the pro races later. Alas, my son had to be at a friend’s birthday party and all the waiting in between the two races we saw was quickly wearing away at my kids’ patience levels.Thankfully, I was able to buy them some cowbells so they could cheer on the racers. It’s really...

Biking the Camas Days Parade

A few weeks ago, my son was scheduled to ride his new bike in the Camas Bike and Sport portion of the parade. When I showed up, slyly thinking I’d be dropping my son off, I was quickly asked if I wanted to ride in the parade, too. Me being the shy artsy type who doesn’t usually like being the center of attention in any form, asked my son if he wanted me to ride with him, which of course he did. Ed, from Camas Bikes loaned me a bike—a nice little cruiser—and a helmet, and we were on our way. We had a nice time, despite the ridiculous heat and an hour or so of waiting in the glaring sun. The route was really simple and Dylan did an amazing job of navigating within the throng of cyclists who had to stop and start regularly to avoid becoming one with...

Chapter 7: David Hasslehoff invades my home

On the TV: New Sprint commercial with new CEO, Dan Hesse, introducing himself My Six-Year-Old Son (in a deep, exaggerated voice): Hi Dan Hesse! My Three-Year-Old Daughter (in a deep, exaggerated voice): Hi Dan Hesse! My Son: Hi Dan Hesse! My Daughter: Hi Dan Hesse! My Daughter: Hi David Hasslehoff!

Chapter 6: A ninja on my neck

It was a long day. My company had been rolling out one of the bigger projects we’d had to date. I was on hour 12 of a 16 hour day, finishing up the work from home so I could at least be near by family. My wife, who had recently fallen under the spell of bronchitis and a sinus infection, sat on the couch, somewhat coherent and catching up on the DVR backlog of shows we had recorded. Dylan was engrossed in some online video game fashioned for kids his age. I was grouchy, tired, and stressed, nose in my laptop, trying to power through all the work that I needed to do to help get this project launched. And then there was Stella. She’s like an apparition, darting around the room, asking questions over and over again until someone answers. Getting toys out...

Chapter 5: It’s the government’s fault

As my son and I are driving to pick up a pizza while on a recent family trip to the coast, he suddenly accuses me of being a flake. Knowing my son, this sort of accusation is usually caused by a blood sugar crash, exhaustion from a long day or is simply a cry for attention. The fact is, we’d had a day of disappointments for him—all of the card readers were broken at the arcade, the bumper cars were closed—the kind of stuff that all adds up to a crestfallen kid on a beach town vacation. I’d vote for the cause being a combination of the above factors. “Daddy, you never keep your promises to me. You always say you’re going to do things with me and then you don’t do them,” he says, with a tone of frustration riding atop his...