It’s 12:09pm on Tuesday the 5th of May and this is the first sentence I’ve written regarding Stage 1 of the probably-inaugural but either way definitely first-ever Tour of Yorkshire. Which means this is late. Really late. Like… at least three days late. Also, guys, it’s really weird writing one of these things in the breakfast nook in the back of my house on Prescott and 25th. First of all, in spite of Comcast, the internet works. Second of all, I can’t hear Ian “An Unfair Advantage” Marshall snoring.
It’s now 12:26pm. My dad called about dinner tonight. He always trying to get me to bring the kids to his house in Vancouver but I don’t want to go to Vancouver for all the really obvious reasons which list OBVIOUSLY starts with 1.) It’s Vancouver. Also it’s like dude, if I pick them up from the YMCA at 5:30 and they’re supposed to go to bed by 7:45—at the latest—that means we’re talking about a little over two hours to eat dinner, do bath, High Points & Low Points, teeth, and everything else. Plus Dad, dude, you’re a hundred years old and retired or whatever, you’ve got plenty of short-term time, you’re long on short-term time, and coming to Portland doesn’t suck. I mean maybe it does actually, but way less than going to Vancouver. That feels so true it doesn’t even seem arbitrary or subjective. After talking to my dad I also spent about ten minutes tearing the house up looking for coffee. Which is insane because every week Stumptown Coffee Roasters #microsponsor sends me a bag of coffee and because I travel a lot that shit starts to add up—Stumptown, if you’re reading this, don’t get the wrong impression, NO AMOUNT OF COFFEE GETS WASTED, it’s just that at certain times it kinda builds up a bit—and lately there have been bags of it everywhere you look, if you’re looking in the kitchen. I mean, it’s not like we’re potting plants with the stuff it’s just at this point coffee beans are typically not a problem. Half & Half on the other hand is rough; as of yet, Manual for Speed does not have a dairy sponsor. Anyway, today, just now, I can’t find any coffee. So I called Keiran who is in Iowa going to her niece Ruby’s First Communion—I’m not sure but I think it’s a Catholic thing but listen that’s an entirely different story. Point is, Kieran said she gave one bag to Jess. Jess manages Keiran’s shop Porch Light so that totally makes sense. She also said that a fresh box came on Friday before she left, and that there should be some in the green coffee jar—I checked and there isn’t—and that there should be half a bag on the counter—there is and but I already used that all. And that was that. My Strange Lack of Coffee thing was going to remain a mystery but then I go this text (verbatim) from Keiran at 12:24—”I JUST REMEMBERED!!!! I brought the pound in the box with me to Iowa!!! Sorry I was distracted with plants and totally couldn’t remember. So I finished one pound and started another which Kelly who watched the house and Cat must have finished. Like I said I also gave a pound to Jess and I brought a pound with me.”
It’s now 1:07pm. It took awhile to write that last bit, also I checked my email which is I KNOW a total nonononononnonononono when sitting down to write, or to do anything really, at least anything that requires focus. Listen, the point is this Race Report is late and getting later and for that, I owe you an apology.
Seriously, I’m not just saying that. I mean it. I fucked up. Speaking of which, I also owe you an explanation. Okay, okay maybe I don’t technically “owe” you an explanation. But you definitely deserve one. Two things really stand out: 1.) I forgot my MacBook Pro charger. 2.) The internet at the York Holiday Inn is the single worst internet in the world. I’m not being hyperbolic. Okay maybe I am but whatever, it was scientifically bad, I know that much. I’ve been to France. And Spain. And Italy. And Argentina. Oh, and recently for non-MFS related reasons I was in Bolivia. So I know what I’m talking about. The internet in the York Holiday Inn is the single worst internet in the world. At one point, when I still had some residual power left, I caught it taking information OFF my computer. It’s hard to explain but instead of putting shit into my computer, it was making my computer dumber and slower. And I’m not talking about “uploading,” I know what uploading is and uploading is generally an intentional-type thing. I was signed into the wifi on my phone for awhile but it made texting (just words!) problematic/impossible. And if you don’t believe me you can ask Laura Fletcher who tried to upload a 2 minute video but stopped when the progress bar informed her it was going to take 38,552 minutes to complete.
I was, as they say, especially in places like Yorkshire, which is in England “up against it.” All of this reminds me that sometimes traveling is a dick. I know it’s a privileged and entitled perspective to have, and that it’s unpopular to talk about, especially to people who would like to travel but for whatever reasons don’t have the resources or reasons to do so. I get it. So listen, let’s talk about it this way. Sometimes I, Daniel Wakefield Pasley, suck at travel so bad, sometimes I do travel so wrong, it becomes a problem. I think what I’m trying to say is that I have problem.