The Summer of Shar.

The Final Update.

2007-07-24T11:51:00.000-07:00

For the past seven weeks, I postponed my post-grad anxieties for one last adventure – an adventure that took me across the country with my road bike (Masi) and my mother (Momma C). Today it's *officially* over, which means there's so much to tell you about that happened in the past seven weeks. The adventure turned out to be the most amazing summer of my life – The Summer of Shar.

The whopping numbers speak for themselves -- Momma C and I traveled seven weeks in total, rode 8,288 miles in our minivan, and biked 400+ on our road bikes.

What kept my smiley face goin' full force for two months (other than my masi and Momma C) was this daily blog about The Summer of Shar. I recorded 48 days worth of road-trip nuttiness on this thing, which kept my brain happily bustling.

If you read along, thanks for reading the blogaroo! Momma C and I blushed from all of your comments and e-mails. If you missed it, we’ve selected just a few of the highlights … We:

Bent over backwards for The Bean in Chicago;
Lost a water bottle along the Mississippi River Trail in Iowa;
Rode the Rockies in Beaver Creek, Colorado ;
Got lost in an arch in Moab, Utah;
Encountered a purple-shirted cowboy in Bryce , Utah;
Hiked, biked, and got wet all over in Springdale, Utah;
Fixed a flat tire in the heat of the Grand Canyon;
Dropped in on my hero/brother Stu in San Diego;
Watched Momma C get raunchy in Las Vegas;
Improvised eating styles in Page, Arizona;
Fell on all fours in Four Corners, U.S.A.;
Found temporary housing in Mesa Verde, Colorado;
Reminisced with past road-trippers on Route 66;
Learned a lesson from Bill in San Antonio, Texas;
Melted sunglasses in Austin, Texas;
Heard the truth about Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans;
Ran out of gas (almost!) in the Great Smoky Mountains;
Reignited with my love for history in Washington, D.C.;
And, finally, made it back to Philly!

As this seven-week trip of a lifetime wraps up, it’s important to keep up positive energy. I’m refreshed, recharged, and realizing that I have a whole new set of adventures ahead of me – ones that include looking for a job, an apartment, and a real-world life. Let the hustle begin!

However, before I start again, I invite you to take a moment to look back on the ride of my life: http://thephillyshar.blogspot.com.

Now that it's over, I realize that riding a bike is like riding through life, really. You can pedal fast and keep your eyes on the road ahead. Or, you can cruise along and mosey everywhere you wish to go. Either way, just keep pedaling. As long as you remember where you came from, you can always make your way back home.

Ride on.

Your girl, Shar.

Eye Of The Tiger.

2007-07-23T18:10:00.001-07:00

Momma C and I muscled up to the top of the Philadelphia Museum of Art -- our last *official* stop on our last *official* ride for The Summer of Shar. As we took in our beloved rain-spattered view, we realized all good things must come to an end.

So what if I have to face the real-world in a few days and hustle for a job, apartment, and money? Throw your hands in the air like you just don't care!

Philly Phreedom.

2007-07-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

After 48 days and 8,288 miles on the road, how did Philly welcome its two favorite females back to town?

With rain, of course!

Rain's a pain. But, we had to ride Philly -- no ifs, ands, or buts about it, we planned to ride our city even if a torpedo hit. So, Momma C and I suited up and treated each little drop as our final challenge in The Summer of Shar.

We dashed around town (while abiding traffic laws) stopping at all our favorite spots -- the National Constitution Center, the Liberty Bell, the Franklin Institute, and the Art Museum. We even winked at our boyfriend Billy Penn atop City Hall. Oh, baby, baby!
Then we went to Love Park, my favorite sk8r-boy hangout. They say the O in this sculpture is tilted because love is never perfect. Bull! We L-O-V-E-D this trip, and it sure felt like perfection. It's true. In fact, people ask us all the time if we fought over the course of seven weeks. The answer: We don't remember. We were too busy laughing. Aw, Shar. You so corny!

D.C. = District of Clotts.

2007-07-22T21:17:00.001-07:00

Washington is huge. Really. It’s quite large. After walking five humongous blocks, our biker-babe light bulbs went off in our brains. We’re bikers, gosh darnit! Why walk when we can ride? In a heartbeat, we booked it back to the garage, scooped up our bikes, and hit the streets of D.C. with a rampage.
Our bikes cruised right up to the Washington Monument, White House, Holocaust Museum, Lincoln Memorial, and even up to Capitol Hill. (Drop it down to low gear, roadies – it’s true the Capitol got a hill goin’ on!)
Good thing it was a weekend. If important government suits were around town, we probably would’ve knocked ‘em over with our bikes. Nothing comes in the way of our sightseeing on wheels!

Heart Palpitations.

2007-07-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

Want to set my heart on fire?
Just say the three lovely words I long to hear...

WE THE PEOPLE.Oh, the Constitution! How I love thee! I could barely control my giddiness today when I saw the love of my life -- the Constitution -- in the National Archives (on Constitution Avenue no less!).

My relationship with the Constitution got "serious" in 2003 when I started working for Philly’s National Constitution Center in the visitor services department. (Yes, the tour-guide girl!) I could spit mad info about that piece of parchment for hours, which kept my supervisors Charles and Natalie (the best bigwigs on the face of the planet) as happy as Benji Franklin flying a kite.

In fact, they actually encouraged my dorky love affair with The C. How can you diss a girl who can recite the preamble by heart?

Save The Date.

2007-07-21T22:35:00.001-07:00

The Summer of Shar.
GRAND FINALE
Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Stay tuned. Philly, here we come! Pedal faster now.

Near The Bush.

2007-07-21T19:57:00.000-07:00

The further north we traveled in Virginia, the more we realized we're a hop, skip, and jump away from The Iladelph. Yet, we can't slack off just 'cause we're on the East Coast! We decided to stop in Washington, D.C to see this country's HQ -- after seeing the U.S.A. from ocean to ocean, D.C. is the right thing to do.

First item on the agenda = Ride. We stopped off in Arlington, Virginia to go biking on the W & OD Trail. I must have felt the energy of the east today, as I almost (almost!) rode faster than Momma C. She used to ride past me waving and smiling as I chugged along. Not anymore, yo! Took me seven weeks, but "Momma C Speed" feels damn good.

Truth Hurts, Part II.

2007-07-20T21:55:00.001-07:00

After we checked out of the Quality Inn's sucky scum-tel, we went to the only other lodging in the area, told the front desk woman our tragic story of Quality Inn failure, and hustled the price of a $160-a-night room down to $95 bucks.

What's the original $160 worth? The jacuzzi smack in the middle of the room. It's so misplaced in this little, tiny motel, yet it brought such a perfectly weird feeling of closure to Momma C and me. Jump in Clotties, it's time to relax!

Truth Hurts, Part I.

2007-07-20T20:13:00.001-07:00

Quality Inn blows. It doesn't matter where in the country, after our 45-day journey, Momma C and I decided we hate all of them. Screw the fallacy of overgeneralizing ... this one's true.

THE THREE STRIKES

Quality Inn Grand Canyon: We found ants in the bed. That deserves a thousand "ewwww, gross" comments. I think I scratched my butt for next 24 hours. Ew. Gross.
Quality Inn Durango South: Nothing worked. The wireless Internet didn't work. I would've called the front desk to complain, but the phone had no dial tone. To top it off, that next morning we woke up every two minutes starting at 6 a.m. by a series of loud beeps. We thought it was some dope's alarm clock snoozer since the walls were so thin. In actuality, it was the Belgium waffle maker -- our room was right next to the breakfast area. I think my ears rang for the next 24 hours.
Quality Inn Salem, Virginia: Tonight. We needed a place to stay and this was the only major hotel chain with rooms available right off I-81. Full of positive energy, we figured what the hell, one more try for Q.I. Walked into the room, no air conditioner. Switched rooms. New room, no Internet connection. Oh, shit. Not again.

We checked out. Pronto!

Gas Makes Me Bloated.

2007-07-19T20:39:00.001-07:00

Momma C and I came to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park to ride on one particular bike trail. But, thunderstorms killed our vibe, so being the flexible cats we are, we opted for a hike to Clingman's Dome instead -- the tallest point in Tennessee.

Proof of journey:
But when we got back in the SuperVan, our nifty odometer told us we only had 16 miles left of gas for a 24-mile trip down the mountain. Momma C and I majorly freaked out. How would we survive? No cell service. No gas. No way!

Good thing Momma C drives like a maniac when she's nervous. Her plan was to drive down as fast as possible by coasting the car. And, even barely touching the gas, she still sped up enough to ride every car's ass forcing them to pull over and let us by.

I almost peed my pants 'cause I was so happy to see the light of Texaco forty-five minutes later. With our 20-gallon tank, we filled up more than 19 gallons. Whew, that was a close one. Screeches and screams for our survival!

Nails On A Chalkboard.

2007-07-19T20:14:00.000-07:00

Can you see the tears forming in my eyes from the multiple spelling errors on this tiny blackboard? I swallowed the pain and ate at the cafe, anyway. Hmmm, I wonder what's better at The Purple Daisy in Chattanooga, Tennessee: their "homeade" desserts or one of their deli "sandwichs" ...
... I'll never know. I went for a salad instead. I was convinced that the sign's spelling errors would infect the taste of the food it referenced. It's a proven fact: Bad spelling tastes SOUR.

To The Left.

2007-07-18T20:39:00.001-07:00

Look! In Mississippi, I gave myself one hell of a shout out:

Me: Holla at ya full name, Shar!
Me Again: Hollaback, yo!
Me: Dayyum, you posin' for that picture with the badass sign?
Me Again: Girl, you know I got this! A self shout-out -- is that against the rules of Cool People World?

[By the way, who is Sanders and why does he get a Ville?!]

Fat Tuesday.

2007-07-17T21:57:00.000-07:00

Tonight I took Momma C to Bourbon Street to see all the strip joints and fratboy bars. The ideal family establishment. The verdict: She loved it! I must say, when we heard whistles and howls from balcony tops--they weren't for me. Momma C is one hot Momma! I had to fight off the monkeymen clawing for her. Drunkies are such a confidence booster. Thanks for hootin' for our hooters Bourbon Street boys. We love alcohol-induced compliments!

Katrina Was Here.

2007-07-17T20:53:00.000-07:00

We're in New Orleans. As we drove over the bridge and saw the Superdome, Momma C and I paused in silence remembering pictures of people who flocked to the stadium after Hurricane Katrina--the worst natural catastrophe on American soil.

There's no way we could really understand the aftermath without seeing the damage, the adversity, the heartbreak for ourselves.

Momma C and I drove through the Ninth Ward--sight of the most devastation after the hurricane hit. It's where one of the levees broke and Lake Pontchartrain poured into this section of the city, water reaching rooftops and wiping out almost all of the homes.

We saw the homes, gutted and unlivable. We saw people living in FEMA trailers sitting next to mounds of trash, ten feet away from a dilapidated one-story house. We saw X's on the houses, the spraypaint remains from officers who marked them for dead.

Two years later, parts of the city look exactly like the photographs from August 28, 2005. It was an eerie site, an emotional site.

When we got back from the Ninth Ward, we walked into a shop in the French Quarter and met the owner Vanessa. Vanessa stood 5 feet, 7 inches, with ripped jeans and a white shirt, her blonde hair pulled back with a small black barrette. We asked her if she experienced Katrina. She told us her story.

Vanessa pulled out four books about Katrina and together we sifted through them page-by-page. Each page was a new image, a new glimpse into the pain of all who suffered, and a new chapter of her story.

She told us how she returned to New Orleans after two months, but not before Katrina broke apart her family. Her husband of 21 years walked out on her after the storm because he couldn't deal with going back to New Orleans. Her 17-year-old daughter fell into a depression from the trauma. She switched into three different high schools because no school would open in time for her to finish senior year--no prom, no school ring, no senior fling. Today, her daughter attends college seven hours away, leaving the pain of Katrina behind.

For Vanessa, it took her two years to rebuild, nearly depleting all of her savings. Yet, she refuses to leave New Orleans. It's her life. It's her livelihood. It's where she'll be forever.

But, when it rains, Vanessa told us she still gets scared. She will not drive in the rain. She checks the television, radio, and Internet for hurricane watches. She remembers Katrina.

It rained this morning.

She got a ride to work.

Winnie The Pooh.

2007-07-17T19:49:00.000-07:00

Meet Winnie -- birthname Michael, lover of grease stains on coral-colored shirts -- the proud owner of Winnie's on Magazine Street and best sandwich shop guy evaaa:Our man Winnie greeted us with a grunt and threw two menus in our faces when we waltzed into his cafe. He had a rugged, no-fuss-no-muss attitude. When Momma C and I tried to order our Plain Jane sandwiches, he wouldn't let us! He told us to try something new or get out.

We stayed. Hey, don't get in our way if we're hungry.

After he delivered the food, we couldn't believe he plopped himself down in a chair two yards away, lingering around for approval after the first bite. The sandwiches oozed with deliciousness. So he kicked up his heels, lit a cigarette, and relished in the fact that he could convince two Yankees to enjoy southern food.

My Prince Lookalike.

2007-07-17T16:54:00.000-07:00

Will the real Fresh Prince please stand up?
Yo, check this similarity.

A mansion on St. Charles Street in New Orleans' Garden District:The Fresh Prince of Bel Air house in, uh, Bel Air, California: Will Smith gotz to go. I'll be the Fresh Philly Princess of this estate! Shar's lyrics would go a little somethin' like this: West Philadelphia born and raised, in the library is where I spent most of my days. Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool, getting beat up outside the school ...

Entertainment Coupons.

2007-07-16T19:36:00.001-07:00

Question of the Day: After ten hours in the car, what could cure us from our stiff legs and tired eyes? Answer: The Mall of Louisiana!

Happy faces and winkydinks for this pitstop. It's like we walked into the mall and felt an immediate recharge. No purchases, but still we get our fuel from retail energy. Power up!

Over The Rainbow.

2007-07-16T19:06:00.001-07:00

No happy memories traveling through Texas. It took ten hours to get us out of that state and into Louisiana. Ten treacherous hours. Not to mention, we hit this hellish thunderstorm west of Houston (seen in the rear-view mirror below). My nervous hyperventilation was no help to Momma C when we drove into the storm. I wanted to pause and wait for it to pass, since I couldn't look out the window without thinking we were veering off the road and into the guardrails. However, Momma C plowed through. She may have no sense of direction, but she knew we had to get to the other side.

And if we get rained on for 20 minutes every 37 days, that's not such a bad ratio, right?

R.I.P. Shady Shar.

2007-07-15T21:30:00.001-07:00

On July 15, 2007, we bid farewell to Shar's rockstar sunglasses. They were given to her as a gift from her brother Stu--a gift she was meant to treasure forever. Yet, tragedy struck today when the ungodly heat melted the right lens out of the frame beyond the point of repair. Long live big glasses on little girls.

Voldemort.

2007-07-15T21:26:00.001-07:00

Snakes on a bike trail? Oh hell no! I've never pedaled so fast in my life. I can't believe Momma C made me stop for a picture.

The Heat Is On.

2007-07-15T21:18:00.000-07:00

Before we even filled the air in our tires, Momma C and I each bought a shirt that said "Bike Austin." They are black with silver writing and if we wear them at the same time, we can be the mother-daughter pair of matching weirdos.

But, we told ourselves that we can't wear the shirts if we didn't actually bike Austin. So we hopped on the Veloway, a three-mile loop in the city and completed six laps. This little ride was the exact pick-me-up we needed to get our heads back in the game. We may be in Texas heading back east, but we've got to keep riding. The Summer of Shar ain't over yet!

Tufts Stuff.

2007-07-15T21:06:00.001-07:00

Oodles of snaps go to our friends Sarah and Jud for giving us the insider tour of Austin, Texas. Sure, you showed us bats under bridges, but anything quirky like that is just our steez. Thanks peops! Keep Austin Weird.

The Inverted Pentagon.

2007-07-14T22:01:00.000-07:00

Ever since we entered the biggest state in the lower forty-eight, Momma C and I wanted to find out why Texas is called the Lone Star State. Give us a real star, Texas. Just one and we're satisfied.

So when we got to Austin, Momma C and I rallied my childhood friend Sarah and her boyfriend Jud to help our cause. We searched far and wide up and down Congress Avenue, around Sixth Street, and along Stassney Avenue lookin' for the thing.There it is! In Austin's Capitol Building!Woohoo. The sight of it made us starry-eyed.

(Oh, you knew a corny star reference was coming! You have a better one? Try me. Wait, I got it: Starlight, starbright, why am I so cheesy tonight?)

The Spanish Joshua.

2007-07-13T20:49:00.001-07:00

This is Josue: Josue spoke a mile a minute on our 38-minute boat tour on the San Antonio River. He was rambunctious. He was wild. He convinced us the river is a rambunctious, wild good time. Congratulations Josue. You get a pat on the back and a five-dollar tip. Cheers!

His-tory.

2007-07-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

I highly anticipated my trip to the Alamo today.
Something with history!
Something with educational value!
Something right up my alley!

However, I acted like a lame-o when I walked in because Momma C asked me why the Alamo was so important. And at the perfect opportunity to step it up and show my intelligence quotient ...
... I blanked! So Momma C and I walked right up to Bill the Alamo Guy and asked him point blank: "What's the deal with the Alamo?" The response: "You're not from Texas, are you?!"

Bill stands guard at the entrance to the Alamo, and when we bombarded him with follow-up questions, the retired history teacher (33 years) took a break from telling people to remove their hats and pointing strollers to the correct exit to share a vibrant 30-minute history lesson.

Momma C and I paid attention, asked questions, and talked a lot, fearing he would pop quiz us about Davy Crockett and General Travis when he was done. (Thankfully, he did not.)

After we exchanged stories about the Alamo and the Summer of Shar, we told him he must have been an amazing teacher. He beamed with a smile when we said that, and then fixed his luscious head of hair in preparation for our Kodak moment.

They say "Remember the Alamo." Thanks Bill. Now I'll never forget.

Give Him The Gas Face.

2007-07-12T20:59:00.001-07:00

First thing that happened in San Antonio -- I got into a fight . Shar versus Ranger Barrienavez. Here's what went down:

Tonight Momma C and I strolled the San Antonio Riverwalk, minding our business, when we saw crowds of people lined up for a boat tour. We asked a nearby ranger if it was worth the hype and he went off ...

Ranger Barrienavez: The Riverwalk boat is the number one thing to do here. San Antonio is the seventh largest city in the country, but it's number one for history.
Shar: Number one? I don't think so. You ever hear of a place called Philly? Birthplace of the nation?
Ranger Barrienavez: Yeah, I heard of it. Been there once. All you have is a broken bell.

Oh no you didn't.

It escalated quickly after that. You know, droppin' elbows, fists up, and brass knuckles were just the start of this nasty brawl. He shoulda known ... don't mess with girls from the Philthy.

Green Goblin.

2007-07-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

Pissed about driving for three days without biking/national parks/Wal-Mart, Momma C threw a hissy fit at the pit stop in Junction, Texas. First, she moaned. Then, complained. Then, refused to get back in the car. Before forcing her sorry ass in the van, I pulled out the camera and captured this perfect moment. What does that face say? No more driving!

Elephants Tell The Truth.

2007-07-11T20:01:00.000-07:00

When Momma C and I saw these road signs in New Mexico, we stopped right on the shoulder of I-25 South and suffered the trucker whistles and honks for these two towns:Curiosity didn't kill us feisty cats ... we wanted to meet the people who live in towns with the words Butte and Truth in them.

So we did.

Sissy of Truth or Consequences won our 'Lovely Local' award today. She told us about her life as a hippie, on the run, and how she landed in the place named after a Ralph Edwards radio show. Then, she gave us an in-depth tour of the town -- a town so small, we could see all the main attractions from one street corner. It sure wasn't a city, but the people there made us feel right at home.

Orange Country.

2007-07-10T23:33:00.000-07:00

Look who I found in Albuquerque! Nate -- one of the peops from my Syracuse posse -- is working at the Albuquerque Tribune for the summa, gettin' his smart on. We missed our main man Otto the Orange, but we still share lots of 'Cuse love!

Joe's Sloppy.

2007-07-10T23:28:00.001-07:00

Shar = furthest thing from a 50's diner waitress: I don't touch greasy meat. I don't wear poodle skirts. I don't shimmy to Elvis. Serve me up some sushi, hipster shiz, and a punk band and I'm good to go. Check please.

I Eat Losers For Breakfast.

2007-07-10T22:41:00.001-07:00

I love, love, love the movie Cars by Disney/Pixar. And because it was based off of Route 66, I tried to find all my film faves on the Mother Road.

Lightning McQueen, Mater (like tah-mater, without the tah), and Doc Hudson were nowhere to be found, but I did find this celeste green truck in Grants, New Mexico.

Good enough for me ... it matches my bike. Ka-chow!

Kickin' Kicks.

2007-07-10T21:02:00.000-07:00

I knew that I couldn't travel across America without checkin' out Route 66. Finally, today we caught up to the historic Mother Road -- the original cross-country adventure.

Momma C and I expected road-side cafes, souvenir joints, and auto body shops, but ultimately, it's a desolate two-lane highway. Still, we celebrated the glory, stopping in all the little towns between Gallup and Albuquerque ...
Just a road? I don't think so. It was a moment, people. I'm 21 on 66. Who gets emotional over a road? I do! Go ahead, make the jokes. I LOVED IT. No shame. Nope. None.

Rx Druggies.

2007-07-09T21:31:00.001-07:00

Get the air pump ready !!!! Back on the bikes !!!!!!!!!About damn time, too! We felt sick over the fact that it's been more than a week since Momma C and I rode our bikes (tragic!). But, we hopped back on them for a 17-mile cruise around Durango, Colorado. Biking with the beautiful scenery of the Animas River was just what the doctor ordered. We're cured!

Bachelorette Pad.

2007-07-08T23:56:00.000-07:00

I told Momma C she could help me in my search for the perfect NYC apartment after our nutty trip, but she jumped the gun and started the quest in Mesa Verde National Park. We scoured the Ancient Pueblo cliff dwelling neighborhoods of Spruce Tree (above), Cliff Palace (below), Square Tower, and Pithouse. The rooms were about 6 feet by 6 feet. Yeah, that sounds about right. It's all about location, location, location.It's a start, but I told her to keep looking. I need civilization, malls, and plumbing. Like I'd do my business in the woods.

Supermarket Sweep.

2007-07-08T21:45:00.001-07:00

Momma C puts her game face on at Safeway in Cortez, Colorado. Her mission: Buy only the items on the shopping list in under ten minutes. While Momma C flew up and down the aisles, I offered witty / annoying commentary on her Nutri-Grain, Snapple, and honey-wheat pretzel decisions. She actually finished in an admirable 7 minutes, 47 seconds, winning the imaginary game by a landslide. Way to rock out, Momma C! Mission complete.

Quizzical.

2007-07-08T21:34:00.001-07:00

Where is Shar doing this ridiculous backbend?

New Mexico.
Arizona.
Utah.
Colorado.

Don't scroll down until you've got an answer ...WRONG !!! All of the above !!! Four Corners, USA, punks !!! It's about time we ended up at the biggest tourist trap of all. And we ate it up. YUM.

Buttface.

2007-07-08T20:54:00.000-07:00

Shar's ultimate spelling bee battle: BUTTES V. BUTTS

BUTTES―the pretty rock formations found in Monument Valley, Utah. My man John Wayne filmed lots of movies here. (Oh, how the hunkiest cowboy makes my heart melt!)
BUTTS―the hottest part of the human body. Also known as cheeks / grade-A ass / gluteus maximus. (Oh, how the hunkiest butts make my heart melt!)

How can you possibly think one is better than the other? It's all natural, anyway.

Munch On This.

2007-07-07T23:52:00.000-07:00

Momma C demonstrates our concept of fine dining ... The three essentials for a perfect portable picnic:

The Wal-Mart parking lot.
The beachchair / open hatch for guest seating.
The Subway sandwiches.

You down for this parking lot party? BYOB. Bring your own beachchair.

Rocky Balboa.

2007-07-07T23:23:00.000-07:00

July is full-blown tourist season, which means it's getting tougher to snag some lodging. (It sucks!) So when Momma C passed Arizona's version of the Hard Rock Hotel, she stopped to make a reservation. Since this cliff dwelling ain't in my AAA book, I voted it down. Like this place would have continental breakfast. As if!

Party Animals.

2007-07-06T23:36:00.000-07:00

Tonight, we ______________________________.
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!

Mermaids.

2007-07-06T23:12:00.000-07:00

Out of everything we saw in Las Vegas -- the hotels, the casinos, the showboys -- we liked the wave pool the best. What better place than this to cool off the hottest people in town! And when I say hot, we're literally hot. Today we cooked at 120-degrees.

Blueballed.

2007-07-06T22:49:00.000-07:00

I found the man of my dreams at The Venetian ... ... with those knockout good looks, I just knew I had to throw some charm his way! I worked my usual smile-wink-smile combination. Too bad he was too busy drumming to even say hello. Dayyum! I got dissed by the Blue 'Man'-nequin.

Ice Palace.

2007-07-05T17:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. Caesar,

Crank up that central air my Greek man, Momma C and I don't want to melt away in this record-high heat!

Love, Shar.

Spare Me.

2007-07-05T16:37:00.000-07:00

Confession: I stink like poo at bowling. But, since Momma C and I aren't crazy enough to ride our bikes in 116-degree Las Vegas heat, we were still irkin' for some activity to keep our adrenaline pumping. So I headed over to Lucky Strike Lanes to get some pointers from Atlantic City High School bowling team champion Momma C ...

Momma C says: Pick a ball you can throw. Just because it's neon yellow, doesn't mean it bowls better.
Momma C says: Don't twist your wrist. This form looks terrible. Actually, it couldn't look any worse. How sad.Momma C says: It's a bowling ball, not a baseball. Don't chuck the ball down the lane! Momma C says: Try again, fool. Victory! There it is, people. Look closely at the scoreboard and find my one, solitary strike. Isn't it beautiful? Lovely? Shar's proudest moment ever? Yes, yes, and yes.FINAL SCORE: I knocked down a pin here and there, but sadly, I didn't crack 50 points (stop laughing!). That strike was a confidence booster. Um, those 25 gutter balls ... not so much.

Still Talking About It.

2007-07-04T18:25:00.001-07:00

UPDATE: Momma C loves her Thunder Down Under crown of glory! The audience hootin' and hollerin' voted her the best. What a naughty thing to take such pride in, Momma C. Holla hottie!

Thunder Thighs.

2007-07-03T23:22:00.000-07:00

Our first reaction upon arrival in Las Vegas: OVERSTIMULATION. After touring national parks and visiting fam, we're in the City of Sin and it kinda shocked our system. But we found something that helped us adjust ... We booked tix for The Thunder Down Under to see some hotties with six-pack abs using 20 bottles of baby oil to get 'em all shiny. For a while, Momma C and I laughed at all the women grabbing at the boyz junk down south ... that is until "Craig" plucked Momma C from the audience for a contest onstage. Oh, not just any contest. The "Best Fake Orgasm" contest. She was up against a blondie Norwegian and a 21-year-old birthday girl. The results ...WINNER!!!!!!!!!!! Momma C, what a role model. Viva Las Vegas!

Monumental Moment.

2007-07-03T22:57:00.000-07:00

Momma C and I hit the road again today ready to begin "The Summer of Shar, Part 2: The Beast of the East." Rev up our beloved mini-van, 'cause we're ready to roll!

Stu, already miss ya.

Tree Trunks.

2007-07-02T23:58:00.000-07:00

This guy ...
... Picked me to dance with him at the luau. Look at that romp shakin'. Can't you see he got me all hot and bothered?!

Wheelie.

2007-07-02T23:30:00.000-07:00

This morning Stu rode his unicycle to the hotel. The tourists outside got all amped when they saw him do his thang hopping and rolling around. When he left, I was all "Yeah, I know that guy. Total celebrity." Really, I should have told the peops to book him for a kiddie party. That would've pissed him off brilliantly.

Three Hundred.

2007-07-01T23:22:00.000-07:00

Good thing we hit Fiesta Island on our ride today, because Momma C and I were in the mood to p-a-r-t-y. My odometer passed 300 miles! That means we biked 1/10 the number of miles we drove. That also means we've got hundreds more miles to go. In our van or on our bikes? Both, baby!

The Sheep Counters.

2007-06-30T23:41:00.001-07:00

Who sleeps better?
Is it Stu's post-work shut down?
Or Shar's in-transit car nap?This is sibling rivalry at its best.

Massive.

2007-06-29T23:51:00.000-07:00

Tonight we rode Critical Mass, a ride to "take back the streets" and ride wherever the hell you want -- like ride through red lights, ride on highways, and ride with hundreds of other people. Yeah, we did all of that. It happens in every major city the last Friday of each month. Stu always rides it, and this time he invited us along ... ... Nearly 300 people showed up (!!!). A guy with a big whiteboy fro and tight punk jeans counted 273 to be exact.I kept staring at the guy who custom built his frame out of three frames. Sick bike, dude. It got really dark, really fast. Hey, that's what blinky lights are for.... However, it's a shame Momma C can't see too well in the dark. She took a nasty spill on a median in the road but bounced back right away. She's a frikkin' trooper, that's for sure. Final verdict: It was so beyond awesomely awesome. Momma C and I rolled right along Stu and the bike gang the whole time ... ... It was like our own little Tour de France -- Team Hott Clott. Ya know, cause the Clotts know how to roll together. Calm, cool, and collected. For 23 miles at night. Gangstas.

Lipton Brisk.

2007-06-28T23:53:00.000-07:00

What a sibling profile pic from the Bahia Breeze ferryboat booze cruise we took around Mission Bay tonight! Momma C thought it was super lame (no booze and not enough cruise), but totally worth the hour-long trip. Hey, it was free. Why not go? Exactly.

The Soul of Soledad.

2007-06-28T21:12:00.000-07:00

Accomplishment Alert!
Accomplishment Alert!
Accomplishment Alert!
Today we climbed the mighty Mount Soledad, a super steep hill in San Diego. Stu must have thought we were pros (fabulous assumption) because he took us up the hill and we did it. Ya hear? We did it. Not to mention, we kept up to the real pro, Stu. Slap us a virtual high five, cause we felt rad as hell.

Sleepyhead.

2007-06-27T23:32:00.000-07:00

After 21 days of running, we stopped for one whole day. Hard to believe we didn't stuff five activities into our rest day, but there was no possible way my body was moving from the bed or the beach. Conking out is an activity, right?

Anthony, The Zoom Dude.

2007-06-26T23:19:00.001-07:00

When the Clotts represent, they REPRESENT. And we always be reppin' Human Zoom, our fave Philly bike shop. A great big hollaaaaaaa goes to the Zoom dudes, Anthony & Co., for preparing our bikes for this crazy-ass road trip. Ride on.

Helmet Hair.

2007-06-26T22:06:00.000-07:00

Stu showed us the bike route he takes to work everyday, running from Mission Beach into Old Town. I said, "Work. What's that?"

Pirate Booty.

2007-06-26T21:04:00.000-07:00

Stu drove the 16-foot powerboat we rented like a complete maniac. (His best friend Kevin encouraged it.) He went really fast to scare me because I kinda, sorta, really don't know how to swim and it would've made him oh-so-happy if I fell overboard and cried while treading water.
Too bad I found my life jacket under the driver's seat and the large 5 mph zone forced him to slow down. Suckkkkaaaa.

Bikeway To My Heart.

2007-06-25T19:09:00.001-07:00

My tan lines got even more whacked out today cause we took a 25-mile ride on the Bayshore Bikeway in Coronado. It was worth it though, because I fell in love with Trail Marker Dude along the way. He looked super sexy, so I did my best to mimic the hotness. He'd appreciate my bike shorts tan line, fo' sho'.

Oh Brother!

2007-06-24T23:43:00.000-07:00

What Makes Me Love San Diego: Stu, age 23.
What's His Deal: Shar's brother/hero, bike mechanic, student, omelette chef, coolest person ever.
What He Rides: A Bianchi fixed gear most of the time. Plus, a road bike, a mountain bike, a few other bikes, and a unicycle.
What Makes Him the Coolest Person Ever: He built my bike, we're totally best friends, and he's Momma C's favorite.

Ron Burgundy's Hood.

2007-06-24T23:09:00.000-07:00

We made it! After 3,682 miles -- through 10 states, 6 national parks, and 26 Subway sandwiches -- we made it to California. I had such a *moment* hitting the Cali border ... looking at my Masi in the back seat and Momma C in the front.

Now, after all this running around while rollin' across the country, we're ready to tear it up in San Diego for a whole week ...

... The first thing we did (before we even unpacked): Ride.

Quote of the Day.

2007-06-23T21:37:00.000-07:00

The passengers on our Pink Jeep Tour included the tour guide, a family (Mom, Dad, 7-year-old girl, and 5-year-old boy), Momma C, and me.

After the first big bump -- Momma C flew out of her seat ...

Momma C: Oh, shit!
Two Kids: Oooooooooo, you said a bad word.
Two Kids Mom: We don't say that word around here.
Momma C: Sorry, your kids are going to learn a lot of new words today.

Tickled Pink.

2007-06-23T21:31:00.001-07:00

I forced Momma C to take a Pink Jeep Tour today -- the most famous of all activities in Sedona, Arizona. The lady who sold us the two-hour Broken Arrow Tour tickets said it would be a little bumpy, but nothing she couldn't handle ...
... She couldn't handle it.

Caps Lock.

2007-06-23T21:23:00.000-07:00

Oh, snap! Look what I picked up in Sedona, Arizona. Yeah, I ride. I shield my face from the sun. I roll like that. Word.

Flat as a Pancake.

2007-06-22T23:56:00.001-07:00

Shar Review of biking the Grand Canyon ...... Two thumbs up. One for biking 21 miles in the high-noon heat to see all the neat-o viewpoints around the South Rim. And another for Momma C fixing the first flat tire of the trip.
FYI: We were a quarter-mile away from the Grand Canyon's last viewpoint when Momma C's back tire popped. Fixing a flat should take ten minutes. BUT it took us forty-five. Nothing's easy with us. We had issues.

We couldn't get the tire and the rim to separate.
We couldn't get the CO2 cartridges (which act as air pumps) to work.
We couldn't get the tire back on the rim. That shiz is hard.

By the end, we were exhausted and smothered in dirt. The flat tried to ruin our high-on-life-cause-we-ride-bikes mood. It almost did. But it never will!

Ants In The Panties.

2007-06-22T23:30:00.001-07:00

Shar Review of the Grand Canyon Quality Inn ...... Two thumbs down. One for the ants we found in Momma C's bed. (Gross!) And another for the false advertisement of a deluxe breakfast. (Nothing deluxe about it.) We were supposed to stay for two nights. Cancel that shiznitty par-tay! We peaced out after one.

Damn the Dam!

2007-06-21T23:28:00.000-07:00

During our Lake Powell boat tour, we hit a big concrete slab in the water. It ended up being Glen Canyon Dam -- one of my favorite topics in GEO101. My professor taught us that dams ruined the natural landscape. I don't remember much else from the class, except that this is kinda what he looked like when he rambled:

Quote of the Day.

2007-06-21T23:13:00.000-07:00

At the desk for Lake Powell Boat Tours, looking at a big sign that says boat tours and Lake Powell and lots of pictures of boats on the lake:

Momma C: Is this where we can take a boat tour?
Tour Guide: Yes.
Momma C: Does it go up Lake Powell? Because I really want to see Lake Powell.
Tour Guide: Yes.
Momma C: OK, so if I take this boat tour then I can say I went on Lake Powell? In a boat?
Tour Guide: Yes.
Momma C: You're sure?
Tour Guide: Yes.
Momma C: OK. I guess we'll do it. Two adults, please.

Charlotte's Web.

2007-06-21T23:05:00.000-07:00

We hit the road again today, this time stopping in Page, Arizona to explore Lake Powell for a boat tour. We expected to see slot canyons and antelopes running along Antelope Island. So we asked Charlotte The Boat Girl where to find them and she told us we got on the wrong tour boat. Whizzzutttt was that all about?!

The Jumpoff.

2007-06-20T23:32:00.000-07:00

Cliff Hanger from the Price is Right and I look like identical twins with our hiking sticks. I'm on the right, if you can't tell us apart.

Two-Hour Tour.

2007-06-20T22:39:00.000-07:00

We went into Zion again and planned to hike The Narrows for two hours. For us, it turned into a six-hour event. (Go figure.) Hiking the Narrows means hiking in the Virgin River for miles, at the bottom of a slot canyon. We saw many pretty things (like this picture) so we decided to keep going and going ... ... Not the brightest idea. That river ain't easy! The moss-covered, slippery rocks gave our asses a few bruises when we fell. By the end, we were wet. We were starving. We were thirsty. (And more than a tad cranky.) But we were so happy we hiked it. Seeing the Zion Canyon walls on either side of us and actually walking in the river made us badasses with a natural flair for sure. Plus, the walking sticks we rented helped tone our bicep muscles.
Hiking in The Narrows also helped us realize we're total bike babes. Give us wheels, not water. Please and thank you. And since we always, always, always choose bikes over hikes, we couldn't leave without riding Zion. Un-frikkin-forgettable.

Prairie Doggin'.

2007-06-19T23:47:00.000-07:00

Question: Who Pooped in the Park? Answer: NOT shittin' Shar. She's a lady.

The Z Word.

2007-06-19T22:06:00.000-07:00

The name Zion is supposed to be religious, so I tried the whole spirit thing in the park. However, playing a word game is the closest I got to any holy experience. Check it:

Zion. Lion. Lying. Crying. Sighing. Shining. Shar.

As you can see, I play by my own rules. Because this doesn't make any sense.

Wet Hot American Summer.

2007-06-19T21:31:00.000-07:00

We got to Zion National Park late today, so we asked Ms. Park Ranger to suggest an easy hike. We followed her advice and started at the Lower Emerald Pools Trail. Several wrong turns and three hours later, it turned into a miles-long hike in 101-degree weather. Dripping with sweat, Momma C still managed to snap 75 photos. She wanted pictures of rocks. Lots and lots of rocks.

Whiplash.

2007-06-18T21:05:00.000-07:00

Thrilled to be off the canyon rim, I mounted a wooden horse for a little victory dance. Holding a fake whip and whistling at a non-existent cowboy adds the extra ooomph to my groove.

1, 2, 3 ... dance party. Go.

Ridin' Dirty.

2007-06-18T20:36:00.000-07:00

Down Bryce Canyon. But don't let the down part fool you. We rode up and down lots of hills. The up part sucked for miles, but the down part felt oh-so-sweet. My odometer clocked 31 miles per hour before I clutched the brake so hard I almost broke my hand.

And, oh yeah, the views looked spectacular at 9,100 feet.

Momma C’s Jaw ...

2007-06-18T20:06:00.000-07:00

… DROPPED when she heard someone screaming her name at Bryce Point. Then, when she saw where the voice was coming from -- a purple-shirted cowboy in a broken-down truck -- we turned to each other and thought: “No way in hell.”
Those are loose facts. I’ll start from the beginning.

We wanted to bike down the 18-mile road within Bryce Canyon National Park, rather than biking up the canyon. So we called the shuttle from the Bryce Canyon Lodge to take us to our starting point. And instead of the air-conditioned supervans we saw pass us multiple times, we got Jim (the purple-shirted cowboy) and his putt-putting, rusted-used-to-be-gray ’81 Chevy Silverado.

“Sorry I didn’t bring my Maserati,” he joked when he stepped out. Momma C wasn’t exactly in a laughing mood. Terrified that his rickety piece-o’-junk truck would scratch our beautiful bikes, she grilled him before stepping into the cigarette-burned, un-air-conditioned truck.

“Where's the bike rack?”
The flatbed should be good enough.
“Will this car scratch our bikes?”
They didn't tell me these bikes were special.
“Well, where’s a blanket that we can rest our bikes on?”
I have hand towels.
“Does this car even work?”
Hey, I didn’t know I was picking up two socialites.

As soon as his engine actually started and we stopped laughing about the no-luck truck, we settled in for a “ride” before the ride. By the end, we knew all about him, his family, and his nomadic life. And now, there’s no way we’ll forget our cowboy-driver, bike-protector, curly-Q mustache man Jim.

No way in hell.

Spot This.

2007-06-17T23:23:00.000-07:00

Can you find Momma C and Shar?Hint: They're in the arch.

A Utah Delicacy.

2007-06-17T23:11:00.000-07:00

Screw heat! We wanted to hike Arches National Park today. So we did. And we picked the best trail. In your face Mr. Golden Sun!

We trekked uphill to Delicate Arch -- the most famous arch of the entire park (and state for that matter).When we saw Delicate Arch, we ooohed and aaaahed for awhile. Then we made an arch of our own. Consider us inspired by a little thing we like to call nature.

Boy Band Hotness.

2007-06-17T22:33:00.000-07:00

The Momma C Mobile told us it reached 98 degrees when we hit Utah today. Where’s Nick Lachey when you need him? I wanted him to cool off Momma C! She had mucho sweat on her brow.

Yogi's Wife and Children.

2007-06-16T22:59:00.000-07:00

Tonight, we spotted. Spotting is when you take a bigass bright light in your car and drive around looking for wildlife animals. For a good half-hour we didn't see one thing (except the dust in the wind). Then the motherload hit. Literally.

During my turn to spot, we pinpointed a mother black bear and her two cubs climbing on a tree. We looked for about one minute before they scattered away into the wilderness. I'm sure Momma C's shrieky screams of excitement scared them off.

Wait. Was that me?

Too Hip to be Square.

2007-06-16T22:34:00.001-07:00

23 miles today.Woohoo. From the top of Vail Pass to Breckenridge, Colorado.
The equation of June 16th went a little something like this:

15 miles, downhill. (Experience: 3 out of 5 stars. I almost crapped my bike shorts when I saw the steepness of the mountain. It's like they paved a ski slope into a bike trail. Going fast on my bike isn't my best skill, but when I saw 80-year-old people passing me, I knew I had to pick up the pace. And I did, successfully. Just ask Momma C. She'll tell you when she's not laughing at me.)

8 miles, uphill. (Experience: 4 out of 5 stars. This is where we felt the workout! Even the beautiful scenery couldn't take my mind off my burning calves and quads. We worked through it though ... dog tired and anxious for lunch.)

Oh yeah, and then we did a hike. Don't stop 'til you get enough!
Momma C is 5 out of 5 stars. I think it's the matching jackets.

Wild for Wal-Mart.

2007-06-16T22:29:00.000-07:00

They always say people went out west to strike gold.
Here's our jackpot:
Momma C and I met our best friend Smiley with our grinny grins when we stopped to shop at the Wal-Mart in Avon, Colorado.

Is it really necessary to go to Wal-Mart while on a kickass vacation? Y-E-S.

Triple Threat.

2007-06-15T18:15:00.000-07:00

Three Steps to Your Best Ride.
(as demonstrated by Shar on the Glenwood Canyon Trail.)

Bring your attitude. Also known as your game face or kick-butt-and-don't-take-any-prisoners mindset.
Bring lots of water. It gets hot. And sweaty. You need to stay hydrated.
Ride. Hard, fast, and for real.

Honey Bunches of Oats.

2007-06-15T17:38:00.000-07:00

Today we rode 32 miles roundtrip on the Glenwood Canyon Trail along the Colorado River with our gracious hosts Shelly and Patrick. For us first-timers, Momma C and I conquered the altitude and kept up with these experienced trail riders. Sure, they led the pack. But boy, did we keep movin'!

No Action in Vail.

2007-06-14T22:08:00.001-07:00

I like him. But not that much.
I would have asked Mr. Ski Man on a date if:

He carried a bike instead of skis (so we could ride together forever).
He stood less than 15 feet tall (so I could gaze into his eyes).
He had a sense of humor (helloooo, I told him five knock-knock jokes).
He acted like a gentleman (he didn't even offer to carry my bike. Rude!)

Clearly, Shar said "No go."

Altitude Attitude.

2007-06-14T21:35:00.000-07:00

Today we took on the big bad Rockies when we rode 26 miles from Beaver Creek to Vail and back. The scenery looked like a Bob Ross painting -- only a real-life knockout from all angles.
To be honest, I can't really formulate sentences because I'm wiped out. But, it's important to boast about this ride. It had hills. It had valleys. It had Momma C. Mad coolio, yo.

Nickompoop.

2007-06-14T17:28:00.000-07:00

Two pit stops in the two hours riding into the Colorado Rockies. At mile 210 I met a sweetheart of a stuffed mountain goat (is that a mountain goat?) who challenged me to a stare contest duel. Usually my blank stare can trump any man, woman, or animal ... but this one's skillz got the best of me.
I lost.

Code Red.

2007-06-13T19:32:00.000-07:00

Momma C threw her first shit fit of the trip. It happened at the hotel in Denver.

The scenario: A week of dirty clothes needed some cleanin'. So she tossed the pile o' filth in the washing machine. And when she went to purchase detergent, she couldn't find her wallet.

[Insert screams and yells.]

We flew around the hotel lookin' for the thing. She bolted one way, I darted the other. I checked the van and parking lot. She hit the front desk and pestered someone at the indoor pool. I mean, we just had it at check-in. It had to be somewhere.
It was in her jacket. In the washing machine. Oy vey.

Fake out.

2007-06-13T19:04:00.000-07:00

We hauled our asses a long way today! We drove 7.5 hours from Lincoln, Nebraska to Denver, Colorado.
This is what we saw: __________________.
That's a whole lot of nothing.This smirky pic is from the single hour I drove. Momma C took a stronghold over the wheel and dominated for 6.5 hours (including stops). Holler and a half for that Momma C! Way to rock 'n' road.

Another setback.

2007-06-13T07:46:00.000-07:00

It's raining in Lincoln, Nebraska.

Sad face: No ride.

Happy face: At least we can sing my favorite Rhianna song loud and proud! Now that it's raining more than ever, Know that we'll still have each other, You can stand under my umbrella, (Ella ella eh eh eh) Under my umbrella.

Oh, how we love Top 40!
(You can add in a few more Ella ella eh eh eh sounds for a fabulous added effect. Thanks.)

Ballers.

2007-06-13T07:33:00.000-07:00

College baseball (the sport we never knew existed) is the reason we're not riding the Missouri River in Omaha. Apparently, the sport's biggest event takes over this week ... which means no hotels, no parking, and no ride. Triple bummer in the first inning of Nebraska.

MISSING: Water Bottle.

2007-06-12T10:43:00.001-07:00

FOUND: On the side of the trail after I catapulted it out of my hands when I failed to put it back in my water holster safely. Momma C rolled on by and didn't even stop to wait for me. I called for her to come back and she gave me so much 'tude because she lost her momentum. It's not my fault I'm an amateur! Just wait 'til I turn pro.

Skipper.

2007-06-12T10:38:00.000-07:00

We met a cutie named Skipper -- the only male we found on the trail. Sadly, not one of our favorite dudes. Pointing to Illinois, he certainly gave us the wrong directions.

You down with MRT?

2007-06-12T10:25:00.000-07:00

Yeah, you know me!
Today we coasted 22 miles on the Mississippi River Trail on the Iowa side in a spot called the Quad Cities, which includes Davenport, Bettendorf, Moline, and Rock Island. (Really, who cares about those cities? Can't we just assume this place is named after the best muscle in the human body? Gosh!)

Bargain Babes.

2007-06-11T19:21:00.000-07:00

Momma C's knees buckled when she saw the Chicago Premium Outlets housed the Pearl Izumi Outlet. The clerks must have seen us and thought cha-ching, cha-chingggggg, 'cause we walked out with two big bags of gear. (I got another pair of bike shorts. More padding for my ass and shorter so I can tan the quads. Basically, hotter than ever.)

I <3 the 80s.

2007-06-11T18:59:00.001-07:00

Glenbrook North = the location of some of the best John Hughes films ever made. What a moment to see the eighties all up in the new millennium ... so we put on our gangsta faces and channeled Ferris ...We tried to recreate one of the our favorite scenes in Ferris Bueller's Day Off ...
... but Momma C was no Matthew Broderick. So instead, she shook her finger at me and squeaked out Sloane's quote when she got in the little red car: "What are we gonna do?" ...
... To which I replied one of the best Ferris quotes: "The question isn't 'What are we going to do?' The question is 'What aren't we going to do.'"

That's our new trip motto! We do what we want when we want. (At least until we run out of gas.)

You need to know.

2007-06-10T20:44:00.000-07:00

Chicago is clean. By no means are we used to filth, but Mr. Clean must live here. Perhaps he crashes at Oprah's pad.

Love on Lakefront.

2007-06-10T20:25:00.000-07:00

Riding the Lakefront Trail along Lake Michigan was the number one thing we wanted to do in Chicago ... ride with the Lake on the left and the city skyline on the right. (Looked bangin'.) We only had a short amount of time, so we squeezed in a 10-mile ride. If I lived in Chicago, I'd be there everyday. No question. I mean, the harmony of an urban environment right up against a natural lake definitely kicked major ass.

Bean Me Up.

2007-06-10T20:22:00.000-07:00

Shar be limber.
Shar be quick.
Shar lean under the bean
Flat as a stick.