Without my bicycle I’m not sure I could have made it this far. I’ve been alone since 2009. Work, cycling, sleep repeat. I’ve lived in and out of a tent and sought shelter on the fly many a night alone with the stars yet never felt as alone as life demands of us today as the fog of uncertainty hovers over the roads and future.
Work now taken away cycling plays the critical role in my sanity. I am sure of that because every time I ride my bicycle I feel affirmed. So I’ll keep riding. It is the only thing I can count on moment to moment.
I miss work tremendously. I was a Chef who loved his work. Culinary work I found no work at all. The freedom to create something new everyday or try again to prefect something old. The kitchen is a wonderful place to grow. I did work with an exceptional Chef Owner who tossed me the keys, recipe book, trust, comradery and culinary adventure everyday.
Never felt like work and best of all, people seemed to really enjoy our food. I miss the challenge of planning and preparing the elements then watching the show unfold as the restaurant came to life everyday all because of our food. These are amongst the best times of my life. On top of all this I would ride my bicycle to and from work everyday and then some.
The dilemma of return to work and risk virus as well as it’s side-effects for life or death seems cut and clear. The future of independent restaurants not as clear. While cycling out options and solutions over miles of thoughts I attempt to navigate a new career path on uncertain terrain.
Time in no shortage I dusted off an old idea, and took it for a long overdue ride then smoked a few joints with a retired friend and proceeded too bludgeoned him with my idea. To which he responded. What do you need to make this happen just money? Well yes just money! One sanitized handshake later and we were in business. Had the idea for twenty years yet it was todays 3-D printing technology that made it affordable to prototype, the first step I never had access to and the money of course.
My retired friend bank-rolling us lives downstairs in our boarding house, ten of us in all. He is a veteran on twenty-four-seven oxygen supply, all but immobilized. A chain smoker, American Spirts menthols, he loves double-stuff chocolate Oreos with organic whole milk, ham and cheese sandwiches on Dave’s 21 Grain Killer Bread, garlic butter pasta, egg noodles only, extra-chucky peanut butter crepes smothered in pure maple syrup and ice cold tuna salad.
So I found some culinary work after all and I really love making crepes. The real travesty here, when we met he was drinking Folgers coffee all day everyday. This I could not tolerate, a chain-smoking retired veteran, Oreo addict, homebound on oxygen drinking Folgers for the rest of his life.
I consider myself a coffee professional. Golden, Colorado is home to Pangaea Coffee Roasters undoubtable this planets finest hand roasted and brewed coffee. So no more Folgers. We are their best customers and Pangea’s coffee in collaboration with a French-Press, nicotine and THC have spearheaded many of our best brain storming cyclones.
Seems I have cycled and cooked my way into a possible future. Thanks to some quality coffee, nicotine, cannabis, friendship, shared ideas, love of conversation and collaboration we could end up riding out of this fog of uncertainty with a new invention or two and a potentially new future.
After a year of friendship, collaboration and comradery I was reading my friends drivers license number to him. I glanced at his birthday. Same as mine. Apparently a recipe for coincidental opportunity was in the making along this entire ride.