The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

It's been a rough season this year, beginning with a minor fracture in my foot, which caused me to back out of the South Bay Duathlon. By the time Wildflower rolled around, I was running again, but at a greatly reduced volume, which turned out not to matter when I found out our apartment lease terminated on race day. Instead of toughing out the hot dry hills of the Long Course, I spent my day heaving boxes and furniture; nearly as brutal, but with no finisher's medal at the end. Morgan Hill Sprint in May ended up being the official opener of my race season, pretty late by California standards.

And then 6 days before the race, I had a bike crash ... on the Morgan Hill course.

I've had my share of topples, but this was my first high speed wipeout, and it felt like the ultimate betrayal to have my bike suddenly misbehave and cast me off so swiftly. I was fortunate that both my bike and I survived intact, if a little banged up, but our relationship suffered a major blow.

Stubborn as I am, I decided to race Morgan Hill anyways, and I quickly found that I had a new monkey on my back. I was now mistrustful of my bike, despite all our wonderful years and miles together. I wobbled uncertainly through each turn and when I returned to THE dreaded corner, which happened to be on a nice downgrade, my brakes screamed out in terror well in advance of the intersection. Since I don't typically use my brakes, the sound was unfamiliar to me, and sent me into a panic.

I took the corner wide and slow, wobbling and screeching the whole way, nearly coming to a complete stop at the shoulder on the wrong side of the road, beyond the cones marking the course. I gave a sheepish nod to the police officers guarding the course, "It's my first time."

Mercifully, my bike did not dump me off at any point in the 16 mile ride, and I still managed to come away with a podium finish and a strengthened resolve to search for my lost cycling confidence.

The following weekend I headed out to the east coast for Jerseyman. The 2 loop bike course featured a series of climbs affectionately termed Papa Bear, Mama Bear and Baby Bear. And where there are climbs, there are descents. I was warned ahead of time about one particular sharp turn at the bottom of one of the steepest hills. The race director had placed a wall of hay bales at the corner to cushion the blow for anyone who failed to make the turn. I went out to practice this section of the course the day before the race, and on my first attempt, I not only missed the turn, I rocketed past it at over 30mph, brakes squealing all the while, until I finally managed to come to a stop a quarter mile down the road. I practiced again and again until I had the timing and speed just right.
Posted by Kimberly 06/28/2016

Bangkok is one of those cities that makes an impression the second you get there. However after you get over the smell and the traffic there actually is some wonderful wonders to be found. We were fortunate enough to be staying with a couchsurfer and he acted as our tour guide while we were in the city. Our first day we made our way by train, boat and taxi to Canchanaburi where there is a train bridge.

Jen got over the wonderful wonders quick.

Posted by nik 09/14/2008, revised 09/21/2008

It's RAINING! And by 'raining,' I mean a waterfall on my head. This makes Oregon's rain look like spit.

But I rode to the uni in shorts, sandals, and a tank-top. Haha. It's deliciously warm, except when you get soaked all the way through, and then have to enter an air-conditioned lecture hall. Ugh. I'm so glad I shaved my head, though! This much rain would not be nearly as fun if I had a mop on my head to worry about.

Oh yeah, and remember those little walk-ways through the trees that I mentioned? Not as nice when it's dumping water. I've been entirely against unbrellas my whole time living in Oregon - only Californians and ninnies use umbrellas in oregon - but here, it's just a smart choice. I'm going to have to use an umbrella for the first time in 4 years!
Posted by Whitney 02/25/2008