Velocipedes: Penny Farthing to Salmon Haulers (Port Townsend Visit)

Canada Day to Independence Day we took a mini vacation over at Cheryl’s house, to go to Port Townsend, see a Farmer’s Market, watch the stars, light fireworks and buy American Candy. It is like the dream summer days of being a kid.

As we used so many different types of transport, or saw many (including aided by a bike shop in Port Townsend) it seemed that Velcipede was a good theme – it is a term for a human powered vehicle, usually bicycles, but started on our trip when, due to road closures, we had to take the ebay books to post, our luggage and wheel (Linda walked) down to the Black Ball Ferry. The concert in front of the Parliament was going on, and lots of kids were dancing, rolling back and forth on the grass and laughing (that whole tactile overload), and girls playing tag in the trees and rocks by the Olympic Hotel. I wanted to rest and so parked myself in the wheeled rack. This, I was told, was NOT where those on wheelchairs go. Alas.

On the way out, the water still and calm, we saw two of the big cruise ships docked, with others waiting for unloading/loading out at anchor in the land lee. The purser and captain both said they had not seen killer or grey whales this year, the first pod seen only for a moment just the week before. Usually the pods come through starting in late April, and can be see on the way to Sakura-con, but this year, they haven’t shown up. I hope that water pollutant or other human causes have not stopped the whale migration and birthing patterns.

On the other side, the Victoria-Port Angeles passenger ferry and dock were aglow in the ‘golden hour’ of sunlight.. It was the late sun of 9:30-10:00 pm which exists in summer, where light lingers in a summer twilight. We wheeled off, and I spotted and talked to the family in an original restored 1934 Jaguar. Sweet!

The next day we headed up to the Farmer’s market in Port Townsend (take the sign to Port Townsend, then the left turn as soon as you see the hill, up the hill, then a zig and zag and you are there – the market oddly has no disabled parking AND is bounded by two streets with no curb cuts at all, which means wheeling down the middle of the street before making it to the market). We parked across from the old Theatre (another one is in the lower town) from 1897 which still shows movies each day.
The market is a true ‘Farmer’s Market’with growers both in and out of town coming to sell wares from Farms, breweries and workshops. Here you can see some catnip in bloom, a rare sight, but for sale along with other flowers.
I inquired at the cabbage themed shop, selling Kimchi,wanting to know if it could be posted. They said that as it was on ice, it needed to be sent with dry ice and so the $5 Kamichi, a favorite Korean topping, would become a $30 cost. Sorry, if you want the fresh Kamichi (or other ‘kraut products) you need to come here.

I talked to a woman from North London who worked at the Embassy in Washington D.C., and we talked about what we missed from the UK, and the rhyming slang we tended to forget unless we watched BBC (‘take a slash’ I do remember as it is both visual and makes me think of men and how they piss in the snow). It seems that mobile phones are making NEW slang, as more money is made by texting (10 pence a text, a few hundred million texts per day), and in the UK, there are more phones than there are people – a mobile phone for every baby and great-grandfather. The North London Afro Caribbean influence makes ‘Cah’ (‘Cah di man wanna fly up North today’) mean, “Let’s meet up tonight (in North London)”. While the common rhyming slang is not only nouns but verbs, like the Cardiff Police were so ‘bales of cotton’ that they had to replace the head with someone from london due to deaths of minorities ‘falling down stairs’ (Bales of cotton=Rotton).

Aside over, back to the Market. There was a knife sharpener there, which made me wish I had brought my own knives as the things you have at home don’t SHARPEN them, they ‘straighten’ them so that they cut easier (for me, a knife which cuts a tomato skin clean and slices down under the weight of blade alone is my standard). Linda thought that coming over with 10 knives might make customs a wee wary.

There was fresh Baked Bread of all kinds, made in a stone oven, at the shop behind. We picked up a loaf, which had that hard crust and the lovely soft inside, with warm butter (yum). The shop has won ‘Best Cinnamon Bun of the Northwest, and is a place I plan to visit again.

As I was late, and only had 90 minutes, and I tended to talk to people and get the stories, I didn’t see all of the market, like wood stove, 10 feet tall including chimney, which had been wheeled there to make pizza’s. I was facinated by the idea of a Baja Fish Taco, as though I love my Mexican food from living in LA, I was not familiar with that. But you can see a cyclist filling up on hot sauces for their Baja Fish Taco (sorry, that just sounds wrong, shouldn’t it say WHAT fish).

Cheryl noticed the Penny Farthing, which I immediate wheeled over and started talking to the guy. He has a shop where he makes and restores many of these. Indeed much of Port Townsend (which is having a bit of a recession now, with emtpy storefronts on main street), caters to making or selling Victorian/Edwardian lamps and shades, books and arts. He affirmed that it was an original and showed me the brake (which is a metal that clamps on the top wheel). This he said is not the best thing to do with the hills of Port Townsend (he had come up one to get there and needed to go down the BIG HILL to town). He said that the brake doesn’t clamp hard enough and if it did, you would simply clamp the wheel and be thrown face first over it and down. If it is a small hill, you can back pedal, as it is a fixed axle, like those bikes of youth. OR, what is best is to have one hand on the brake, put your chest on the seat, and put one foot on the mounting bar (just above the small wheel on the frame) and the other as drag on the small wheel to slow you down. It sounds like it takes practice and is a bit of an art form.

He let me know when he was going to ride the Penny Farthing away and first he ran it, getting the bike momentum to give him time to mount, then stepped up on the mounting wheel as you can see here, with his back foot off the ground. Then, still holding on to the ‘mustache handlebars’ he kept it straight while mounting up to the saddle, and then it was both feet on the pedals and away he went.
The Penny Farthing cycle in 1870 was an technological advance on the ‘BoneShaker’ (term used for a Steam Punk Novel a few years ago) as the Boneshaker had fixed wheels and a rigid fixed axle in the FRONT wheel so the bumping was considerable. This is called a Penny Farthing (or an ‘ordinary’) because if you put an old British Penny (big wheel) and a Farthing (little wheel) next to each other, it makes the shape of this Velocipede. This ‘high cycle’ started cycling as a sport, as it was mass produced both in the UK and US for the next 20 years. The hazards for females of bustles, propriety and long skirts made this shape popular for MEN, while women used the older designed three and four wheelers (which look a lot like a modern recumbent).

Cycles are a big part of Port Angeles and we met Helen, the next door neighbor to a husband and wife Salmon fishing team. Helen had spent 15 years on the boats (and had that look you see in women on the west and east coast of Canada that do the cold water fishing) but now delivered the Salmon….on her cycle. She had a Surley elongated cycle attached to a rig holding three full chests of iced fresh salmon (200 lbs of Salmon), which she rode up the BIG hill and then down again. She rides delivery to restaurants and markets and does over 2,500 miles a year as she is six miles from town, but always hauling the salmon. She says that people wave at her and she has had no problems on the road of anyone cutting her off, since she can’t slow down quickly (I should have asked how often she has to change her brakes). I asked how she gets up the hills and she says she weaves her Surley back and forth a bit (but keeps the trailer rig steady) and stands up, but the leg power gets it done.

It was 2:00 p.m. and time for the market to close, but I had to stop by to take a picture of this moon charm/pendant and the theme that went with it (yah!) as well as pick up from Robert the last bottle of Raspberry Cider from a local brewer, Eaglemount. As you can see by the apple in front, they mostly do apple, but also pear (Robert was sold out of Pear Cider as it is his favorite so he talks it up more). It was good, and we just drank the last of it, without a vinegar aftertaste, but not the hard crispness of many B.C. ciders, more like a dessert wine.

Leaving we spotted this senior citizen who with backpack and three wheeler was ready to take on the hills. The one thing about Port Townsend is that it is a place which seems to hold many aspects of time. The barns and wooden fences behind the cyclist could hail from the 1900’s but more like the 1970’s, as he himself exudes a ‘free spirit’ of the 60’s and 70’s.

We even saw a man who was walking his dog while riding his recumbent cycle. Off they go, cyclist and dog, which was on a leash making me think that was a well trained dog, or a disaster waiting to happen.

Last time we came we took pictures of the Victorian architecture, so this time it was the 1950’s and 60’s I was interested in. This 1961 Bel Air shows the fading of paint, the scrapes, repaints, love and wear of a classic car. After we investigated the alley’s and gardens of downtown, Cheryl taking on the hill back up to the lower town,we were hot and hungry, so on to FOOD.

What better for hunger and hot than to go than to get a Malt, which is made with real Malt Machines rescued from the midwest and west coast, restored and going strong. An order gets you a full fountain glass and the steel shaker besides, full of chocolate and malt. Linda meanwhile was picking out songs, which are still 25 cents, from Love Potion #9 to Runaway. We split a burger and fries and then it was back to Port Angeles for a long nap and then a steak BBQ on Cheryl’s new gas grill.

The previous night I had gone up the hill to where it was dark and the night sky seemed to leap forward, just out of reach. The little dipper was just in front and as I lay there watching Venus, I saw a small streak then with Linda a little later a long streak of a meteor entering the atmosphere and burning up.

One thing I had never done, not as a child, a teen or an adult was to buy and set off fireworks. Now while Cheryl was a pryo, the kind which must have had her well known by the police force in town, and her becoming a law enforcement ranger with LOTS of time on her hands (and lot of other rangers with a love of things going ‘BOOM’) meant she had lots of stories. Indeed, these were stories which got worse and filled with more risk for the boom soe so much I looked to see if Cheryl had all her fingers. It was a surprise to me that she did! Linda took my $35 down and bought a bag full of fireworks and so after the BBQ, at 2 a.m. to 3 a.m. We set off snakes that whizzed and erupted in flames of green, red, orange and white as they spun around the empty street. Then we had the launchers which sent up the bursts of erupting colour and light. My first thought was ‘MY GOD! LOUD!!!!!’ But Cheryl assured me that her neighbors would, the next night, do fireworks even later. Oh, if I live another year, get me a cot and bring me out to do that again. I guess I like the boom too, good thing I did not have time on my hands with people who knew how to make 'boom', I just set fires instead (cause that's SO much more healthy!)

I couldn’t actually light the fireworks as they required throwing, and for me to light it, and then throw it instead of drop it into my clothes…..way too risky. After I asked, Cheryl did intertwine the fuses from the launcher so they sent up a bam, bam series of bursts, where one erupted in colour and light just as the last was finishing. They may not have been as impressive as the ones seen at festivals by hundreds of thousands or tens of thousands of people but in a way these were better because it was a private show: for an hour. I hope to make a short 30 second video of the best of the fireworks but I am glad that was something I did before I died.

And so the weekend came to an end, back to bed, and then packing and heading back to Black Ball to catch the Ferry. getting back home in Victoria. It was fun and I got to see a lot and take a lot of great pictures. I hope you enjoyed the show as well – I may not be able to get out much, but I try to see all I can, while I can.

Beth's 'Normal' Day: Hello Kitty, Farmers' Market, Gifts and a 50's Diner

This is a tale of Elizabeth’s 'Normal' day (we skip the seizures, the passing out, the tedious medical stuff and focus on the fun and ‘normal’), which actually is bits of three days put together (welcome to Disability Time) but let’s pretend shall we.

In a tale most unbelievable, Port Angeles, which has many tattoo parlors (and ones not that good) happens to now have a shop which sells Hello Kitty supplies and not only that, rare and cool Hello Kitty Supplies. This means I actually have a shopping reason to go to Port Angeles. But also mean now I am in shopping envy, lying awake at night frustrated that I did not find item X or Y sooner, or that others maybe just THIS minute someone is buying what I want (a feeling never felt before about Port Angeles!). This was the store where I talked to the 16 year old girl about Hello Kitty, Demonia Shoes, Goth and yes, S&M. The store have a few “display rooms” and this is the Kitchen.

As you see they do retro, and it is not just Hello Kitty, but you can see the Hello Kitty toaster and the coffee maker up there.

Well, as of tonight, in typical Linda fashion, Linda has “shoppers regret” over that toaster, on how it would be REALLY nice but golly we can’t justify that (which is Linda code for “I really want it and keep thinking about it”). I don’t know why Linda doesn’t see and lust for things instantly like me, but it takes two days or so for her to get the bug, like in Paris when she decided she REALLY should have picked up that scarf on the first day. So back we had to go, subway transfers and all because seriously, is it not better to go back and GET the scarf then hear the regrets over NOT getting the scarf for two years? Plus Linda likes to shop but does not get crazy excited like being exposed to catnip about buying things (that is what I do!); so when she does WANT something, crave something, then yeah, I am going to get that for her.

So here is the toaster, nice, right, but we don’t HAVE to get it there, right? We could order it online! Only, it turns out this shop (which I am NOT telling you where it is, in case you go buy this toaster!), sells very ODD items. This toaster is a limited edition 2008 item and has a cover and a crumb tray and six to eight different settings on how you can toast Hello Kitty’s face into your bread. And it is not sold elsewhere, not that we can find. There are two other cheaper style toasters but none so cool as this. Sigh.

So while Linda was gazing at toasters I had found the most amazing Hello Kitty Temporary Tattoos, which I am sure are Japan Release Only (meaning, what are they doing HERE in Port Angeles!), there are Purple Geisha ones for the Girls and I found blue ones of Drumming and drinking sake for the guys (come on guys, playing big Japanese drums is manly!). But seriously, how cool would having a Geisha Hello Kitty shoulder tattoo be? A little temptress shoulder display….Hello Kitty for the Sexy Kitten? Not that I am starting to write my fantasies out loud or anything…..hee hee!

I also found a set of bandages, where EACH bandage is a different Hello Kitty scene. I had seen the pink Hello Kitty bandages before but not this visual delight of Hello Kitty. So I picked them up and can’t decide whether they would make perfect gifts or perfect rewards for me after surviving yet ANOTHER blood test and needle experience. Oh, to give or to enjoy for the self?

And as I was about to leave, I fell totally in love with the Hello Kitty Pirate sleepset! Look at it, who wouldn’t! Hello Kitty Pirate with her ribbon in her hair and a skull in the ribbon, her hat, her ship! All in a sleep cami. I rolled back inside and found out, only size SMALL left on the rack (now looking at the picture I ask myself, “Why did I not check the size of top on the MODEL?”) Instead I told Cheryl, “Oh well, not this month, but at the rate I am going I can get it next month or so.” But now, looking at the pictures I am having a terrible case of buyer envy. I want it – and I haven’t wanted a sleep set in like YEARS. Plus it is perfect for heat intolerant me. Double sigh!

Here is a picture of some of the goodies, you can see the size small top on the front bottom rack, and if you look at the top left you will see the edge a FULL purple sleep set including sheets and everything to make your Hello Kitty bedroom. I was offered this (perhaps in jest by Linda and Cheryl - they better be careful, as what if I threw myself of the bed shouting MINE!) but I refused as Hello Kitty was wearing a cheap IMITATION ruby in her ribbon. Sorry, I don’t do imitation, I do SKULLS! But still, next time I will get a picture of that for you.

We went from there to the Farmers Market at Port Townsend, 48 miles and many skary bars and stores from Port Angeles (avoid the road side shop on that way that has a sign advertising, “Animal skins and ice cream available.” The racks of animal horns mounted on the outside are a giveaway - yeah, I'm serious).

At the market, there were all the local farms, from a few miles away, as well as people making food from ‘home.’ The first thing I saw were these nectarines (apricots?) and then on to the peas (you’ve seen them).

A little further on was the best looking bowl of Borscht I have ever seen, it looks like raspberry soup and with an edible flower too! However beets and I had repeated childhood traumas so I avoid beet related things but if you are missing the old country, come and try out this bowl. I admit, I was not aware traditional Borscht came with “Sunflower-cashew sour crème” (I think that might be the Port Townsend influence).

There were many flower vendors and I was entranced by these Lilies, but with so many miles to go and having to hand carry them back (to be confiscated by customs – no fresh fruit or veg, etc….remember) I had to leave them behind. Still, I have a picture!

Linda, who when we try to call her a “Butch” gets laughed at by Butch Lesbians tried out an apron to see if she should Femme herself up. “Is this ME?” she asked, holding aside her pastry (where did that go Linda, and how come I never got any?), and holding this flowery apron to herself. “No, no, no, no, no!” I said and then, “Let me take a picture!” Because that is as close as I will get to Linda channeling Martha Stewart.

On the way out, I was delayed and fascinated by these candle displays which are actually made of Soy, I think they are Vegan Candles? I am not sure why the soy but they made them with different flavors, Tomato and Kumquat and had such pretty displays that I wanted a display if not a candle. Port Townsend does have lovely farmers food and flowers and GREAT presentation.

From there we went to downtown Port Townsend for lunch at the 50’s Diner where they serve REAL malts from original malt machines brought in from where they were found all over the country. Here I am with Cheryl, the counter in the background. I also paid 25 cents in the jukebox for a song; Linda picked, “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” while I picked the oh so hammy ballad, “Leader of Pack.” First, who doesn’t like a tragic motorcycle ballad? But also because I got to sing the backup singer girl part, you know, the two girls who stand in the background making hand motions and repeating the last word, “He didn’t know what was going down.” At this point I do the wavy motion of my hands while singing, “down….down” I don’t know why but I always wanted to be one of those back up singers; seemed a great gig, you stand on stage and sing about 8 words and “Oooooooooooooo!” Between my reliving childhood career fantasies I did postcards. Yup, want to know how I get those cards done and sent – dedication! So I do a little bit whenever I can. When I travel, your postcard travels with me until it is done!

The next day we were back in Victoria and I decided to use the $100 I had won from the Hudson’s Bay Company by winning the 10K race in my racing wheelchair. They actually sent it to me (Sweet!). I decided this was a good time to bring closure to my Japan trip by getting Canadian gifts for those who helped me in Japan. I wanted to get one particularly for a gentleman, S-san, from the Japanese Volunteer Disability organization who corresponded with me for five to six months before the trip and helped up create our trip “bible.” But also for the English speaking volunteer in Kanazawa who stayed with us for several hours, got my wheelchair repaired and saved the trip. In Japan, because of issues regarding status, you can only give food or perishable gifts. Because to give a gift that is permanent puts an obligation on the person or family receiving it. This has not stopped cost or status from entering as melons (the round fruit) are a popular gift (people eat them and gift is gone), so there are Melons costing over $100 (I kid you not). I ended up getting S-san a Haida art box with a can of fresh Queen Charlotte Salmon inside, as I know seafood is popular in Japan. I also got maple syrup treats for all the people in his office so that he could keep this himself and not feel obligated by being singled out (when he was representing them), and thus forced to share it. However, I know he worked far above and beyond, so I wanted to give him something uniquely west coast.

This however did not finish the $100 so I went search for gifts, primarily for men, because when I give gifts, I try to include a little something for the whole family. Except while I do well on chidren, teens and the women I am friends with, I tend to be terrible with guys. What do you get a guy who is a husband to someone you know? But since all my friends are in internet land I focused on trying to find things that were particularly west coast. I did manage to find some more temporary tattoos done in different Haida and Native Art of the West Coast.I think they look cool and very 'manly', but would look good on a butch too!

I also picked up a couple fridge magnets, again trying to find something unique to this area. Since the Hudson’s Bay company has represented the contact with the native population, for better or worse, here on the west coast for the last several hundred years, they have a lot of decent native art. So what do you think of this, cool enough for a guy to put on the fridge?

I spend the last of my funds on Art Print, which would be more of a gift to a husband/wife, or couple or maybe academics, not sure. I like this print but then I could really mess up and send it as a gift to someone who finds this boring. I selected it from dozens. Each print comes from a different artist; this one is from an artist near Prince Rupert, on the Alaska border of Canada and across from the Queen Charlottes. While it is not the traditional black and red of the Haida art, it has the traditional forms but has use of colour I really enjoy. I hoped that whoever gets it, it will be something very different from where they live. What do you think, would most people like this, or is it an acquired taste?

I stayed away from buying the Inuit Art (the people in the arctic) which tends to be abstract and representational and I really enjoy. Because I can’t imagine sending Inuit Art to someone in Kent or in Iowa as it is usually stacks of stones to represent people or carved seal bone (literally art from what is up past tree line, stone and bones!).

So that was what I ended up getting with the $100 from the race (and a bit more to get all I wanted to buy). Linda asked me if there wasn’t something I wanted for myself, but at the time I could honestly say, 'no.' But that’s until I saw the picture of the Hello Kitty Cami and sleep shorts set again….now I have that frenzy to find and make it MINE!

Seriously, many things have gone away: I have virtually no taste left, the same with getting hungry or thirsty, just part of the disease. Indeed, one odd side effect was that certain seizures make me sleepy, while a few make me hungry…and I haven’t been hungry in months and months (or thirsty, which is why I and others have to constantly monitor me for dehydration). As for me, I am trying to fund a trip to San Francisco and to a Neurologist and getting rid of things, selling things. I also have very little in the way of appetite. So for me, finding a gift that I think someone might like and sending it to them, even if that takes a couple weeks or months is the closest I get to that sort of pleasure now. After all, I still have all the excitement of shopping and get the added pleasure of hoping, like the post cards, the right gift gets to the right person.

So that was it, the 'normal' day and today I got to write about it, about the normal, normal me (touch that toaster or those Pirate Hello Kitty PJ’s and DIE!).

Yarn, Peas, Pain and Disease.

Just a check-in to let you know that I am okay; if utter fatigue and pain which seems to exist on a cellular level is “okay” (Actually for me it kind of sucks!). Here are two of today’s images from the Port Townsend Street Market. The first is a woman who was selling and spinning yarn. When I mentioned the Canadian blog, “The Yarn Harlot” the woman spinning said, “Oh, isn’t she Amazing!” Well, the colours are.

Here Linda stopped to get $2 worth of peas fresh from the garden that morning. She helped me eat some peas while I lay down on the Coho Ferry later because she was convinced that Canada Customs would confiscate her 78 cents worth of uneaten peas. And with peas this fresh and tasting of sun and summer that is a crime to a farm girl. For a non-pea fanatic, they were pretty good.

I read part of a fictional book today on a family dealing with cancer, or not, as the case may be. What struck me, and angered me was the absence of the details, the vital details that go into disabilities and illness. The parents don't just come home with a label and then some counselor showing up at the home (the greatest irony was this was set in Victoria (local author); as Linda got a counselor after I was sick 15 months; I am still working on getting mine). Disability and illness is about medication and reactions to medications. It is about medical appointments and your loved ones trying to demonstrate love. They do things with you that you always enjoyed but now you are too exhausted to participate or even recognize the meaning in the effort. It is about the depths of new feelings from fatigue to pain that are “gifted to you” and how the different people around you learn to cope with that, or don’t. None of that was in this book. We had the loving, we had the sick, we had the fear of the frail person. We didn’t have the “getting used to”; the part where everyone is tired, bored even with the disability or illness; or where people grieve the ‘person they used to be....” while the person is still THERE.

But right now, pain muddles what was once clear. And I am still in shock from finding the fragility of myself in this trip; unable to ride as a PASSENGER in a car, without passing out, without medical distress. To be unable to shop because my system is too weak. I made the journey, and I looked like a norm, well, a wheelie norm, but I passed out partially or completely about eight times in three hours. What cost for a few peas, eh?