Darren Alff

Late yesterday afternoon I heard the mailman drop a big heavy package on my parent’s doorstep. I ran to the door to see what it was.

On the mat outside the front door was a large brown packege with an International Shipping sticker plastered onto its backside. I instantly knew who it was from – the family I stayed with in Germany last summer: The Rybickis!

Mr. and Mrs. Rybicki’s daughter, Natalie, was a foreign exchange student who came and stayed with my parents and sister in the summer of 2006. The year after that, I flew to Germany and stayed with the Rybicki family for approximately 1 month. Then, just two short months after returning back to the States, Natalie flew out to California for a second time and stayed with my parents yet again. I flew back to my parents’ as well and we all spent about a month or so showing Natalie around Southern California.

Last Christmas, as a way of saying thanks, The Rybickis sent my parents a gigantic package of German and Polish goodies. There was chocolate, fruit, wine, Christmas decorations and a whole host of other treats and surprises. But the package was absolutely huge… and I can’t imagine what they must have had to pay to get it shipped from Poland to the United States. (They typically mail packages from Poland because it is so much cheaper there).

Anyway, we got this new package yesterday and while it wasn’t quite as big as the package my parents got last Christmas, it was still incredibly heavy.

Inside the box were some clothes for my mom and sister, a bunch of German candies, and a scrapbook that Natalie made from her experiences both here in the United States and during my visit to Germany last summer.

The way Natalie made the scrapbook, it reminded me of a fairytale. It started with a “Once Upon A Time” and ended with a “Happy Ending.”

Somewhere in the middle, Natalie had a page where she listed all the things she likes. On this page were items like “Gold, money, festivals, Gucci, and $100,000 cars.” Then, on that very same page, she had written “My own gardener.”

I thought this was funny. My parents thought it was cute.

You see, here in California where my parents live, just about everyone has a gardener that comes once a week and cuts the grass, trims the bushes, and cares for the general landscaping of the house. But where Natalie is from in Germany, having your own gardener is far from the norm. She thought we were funny to have our own gardener… and now, months later, it seems as though she is dreaming of one day having a gardener of her own.

When Natalie was here visiting with my family, she shared with us some of her goals for the future. She wants to go to college, have a great (high paying) job, and possibly even live in the United States. And while her dreams of having a gardener are slightly humorous to this California native, I know that this is something my German friend is certainly capable of if she just puts her mind to it.

Thanks for the scrapbook Natalie! Keep up the good work… and say “hallo” to the rest of the family for me!

I arrived at the June residence 15 minutes late. I would have been on time if I had not somehow dropped the keys to the car underneath the driver’s side seat. I just got in the car and the keys were gone. I still have no idea how they keys managed to wedge themselves so far under the seat… but they did!

Once at Jason and Danielle’s house, we jumped in the car and headed toward the hills between Newbury Park and Malibu. Our destination was a parking lot just off of the Backbone Trail where we would climb a short distance before reaching Sandstone Peak - the highest point in the Santa Monica Mountains. Elevation 3111 feet.

It was a clear day and the views were incredible, but it was so terribly hot that it took a bit of fun out of the hike.

The climb was easy for me, as I’ve been living in high elevation for the past few years, but the Junes struggled a bit more. I felt terrible dragging them up the hill when they were obviously so hot and miserable, but I had come so far… and I really wanted to make it to the top. Thankfully, Jason and Danielle did actually make it to the top and the view was spectacular.

Completely out of water, we made our way down the mountain just as the temperatures started to receed.

On the way back to their house, we stopped and bought some ice cold water and dreamt of cold showers.

Thank you Jason and Danielle for pushing on today. If we had quit and gone home, we wouldn’t have these incredible photos to share!

PS - The spots you see on the photos are there because my camera got dust inside it when I was in Aruba. I’ve ordered a new camera and it should arrive soon. In the meantime, I apologize about the photo dots.

I hate seeing animals or people suffer, so when I heard a loud scream from downstairs earlier today, I knew I was about to stumble upon some sort of terrible scene.

When I got downstairs, I found my cat, Lucky, sitting in the living room over a small gray bird. There were feathers all over the place and I was sure the bird was dead, but as I came closer, Lucky moved away and I could see that the bird was still breathing.

I pushed the cat out of the room and then returned to the bird to assess the damage. Its head was down on the ground. Its entire body slumped on the floor. And its beak was clasped tightly to the rug on which the cat had dropped it.

I tried to get some movement out of the animal, but all the little guy did was stare up at me in absolute terror.

After a few minutes of assessment, I picked up the rug on which I had found the little bird and moved it outside. I didn’t know what to do. Should I put it out of its misery? Should I call someone to come and take care of the thing? Or should I simply let it sit there and hope that the little bird would gather up the strength to pick itself up and continue on its way?

Well, this story has a happy ending of sorts, because after about 15 minutes of being left alone, the little bird picked itself up and stood on two feet. Still breathing heavily, it took another hour or so to hop about 6 feet to the base of the house. Then a few minutes later the little guy walked into the grass and disappeared.

I tried to find the little guy a few minutes ago, but he seems to be gone. I hope the little finch was simply in shock and has now continued on its way. Whatever the case, I’m keeping the cat inside tonight.

This morning I went out to breakfast with my dad. We started to talk about my plans for spending this coming winter in Europe and he wanted to know exactly where I was planning to go. But when I started naming places I planned to visit, he wasn’t exactly sure where all those places were.

I didn’t have a map of Europe on me, so I grabbed a piece of paper and quickly drew out a rough map of Europe from memory.

When it was over, I had the image that you see below. At first glance it looked like a really crappy drawing of Europe, but at second glance it looked like a man bending at the waist.

What do you see? A crappy map of Europe? A man bending at the knees? A man with a tail? Let me know!

Today my best high school friend, Travis Miller, got married. Since moving to Utah I’ve only talked to Travis a handful of times, but he was the first person to come and visit me in Utah – even if he was only there for two days.

I was asked to help videotape the ceremony with another high school friend, Katina Bartalone (now married as Katina Bergen), so I had a somewhat active role in the ceremony.

The wedding and reception was at a great Camarillo home in the hills between Camarillo and Santa Rosa. There was a luxurious swimming pool, small guesthouse, huge kitchen, and more!

What was most incredible about this wedding was the fact that I knew an incredible amount of people in attendance. It seemed that everyone there was someone I once knew back in elementary school, high school, or college.

My elementary school friend Michael Floryan was there with his new wife Jackie and brother Matt (who went to my college and majored in film just like I did).

Mr. and Mrs. Draine were there (parents of some old elementary school friends) and so were the Stevens (also elementary school friends).

My first soccer coach, Mr. Mark Cardella, and his wife were there.

Gabe Pascillas (a high school acquaintance) and Luke Campbell (high school friend and soccer teammate) were also there.

And my whole family was in attendance as well. My mom, dad, and sister.

I could go on, but you get the point. It was crazy just how many people were there that I knew.

Now that Travis is married, I’ve only got two close friends who have yet to tie the knot. Everyone else has already been married… and some already have kids!

It was great to see everyone, but it was strange to be back in Camarillo and seeing all these familiar faces. It just makes me feel old and a bit out of place.

I’ve recently returned to the great state of California and am staying in my childhood bedroom in my parents’ old house. It’s so strange to think that I grew up in this town. Everything looks exactly the same, but because I’ve been away for so long, everything looks completely different. If you’ve ever seen the movie Garden State with Zach Braff and Natalie Portman, you know what I’m talking about.

The main reason I’ve returned to California is because tomorrow, my best friend from high school, Travis Miller, is getting married. But more on that later!

Tonight, instead of attending a rehearsal dinner or anything of that sort, I went bowling with a group of my friends from high school. My friends Kris, Adrienne, Leslie and Jason were all in attendance. As well as Adrienne’s good friend Laura.

Kris and Adrienne just bought their first house in Santa Paula, so we all met at their house first and they gave us a tour and served us some pizza. Then we all carpooled over the bowling alley where I vigorously competed against my high school peers in a good old game of 10 pin. Kris and Adrienne were my stiffest competition.

It’s strange seeing people you haven’t seen in a while. You expect them to be totally different than what you remember of them, but most of the time they seem to be exactly the same.

“Do I appear this way as well?” I wonder.

I feel like I’ve changed so much since graduating from high school. And I’ve accomplished so many things! It’s a strange feeling to return after a year or more away. It’s good to be back home, but despite the fact this is the place where I spent the first 22 years of my life, it doesn’t feel like home anymore… and I’m trying to figure out exactly what that means.

Earlier this summer I traveled for eight days to the island of Aruba. My parents have a timeshare that they own and at the last minute they decided that they weren’t going to be able to use it. When they said I could use the timeshare to go wherever I wanted, I jumped at the opportunity. I did a lot of research and finally decided to travel to Aruba.

Before this trip I didn’t even know where Aruba was. I knew it was an island, but that was about all I knew.

In case you don’t know, Aruba is a small island about 25 miles north of Venezuela. It’s a part of the Dutch Caribbean and the people there speak four different languages: Dutch, Spanish, English, and the native language of Papiamento. In my entire time there, I failed to meet a single person that did not speak at least some English.

When I started my trip I flew out of Salt Lake City International and first went to Atlanta, Georgia before boarding the plane that would take me to Aruba. It was a long flight for what seemed like an island not that far away.

Because of the work I’ve been doing on my website at www.bicycletouringpro.com, I bought a Bike Friday folding bike and took it with me on the trip. The great thing about this bike is that it folds up and fits inside a standard suitcase. This is a huge benefit because you don’t have to pay any extra fees to fly with your bicycle. And now that airlines are charging for second bags and a whole host of otherwise normally free items, this will save me a huge amount of money in the future.

Anyway, once I arrived in Aruba I had to immediately put my bike together and ride to the hotel. I found a small island between to busy lanes of traffic and put my bike together here. It was so hot and humid that in just a few moments I was instantly covered in sweat. It was horrible.

Once I had the bike together I had to ride about 6 miles from the airport to the hotel. This sounded easy back home, but once I got out on the road, it was a complete nightmare. The roads in Aruba are crazy! There is no shoulder, there is glass in the road, and the drivers honk at you! To make it worse, I was pulling a trailer behind me and it was making my ride three times more difficult.

I did eventually get to the hotel, but by that time I was practically in a state of shock. I checked into my room and checked my email only to find that a guy I had been hoping to work with on a business deal had sent me a nasty email. Apparently he wasn’t much of a businessman because he misinterpreted an offer as some sort of threat. He thought I was trying to cheat him in some way, but I was actually trying to help him. He eventually realized his mistake and tried to make amends, but I was already over him. I didn’t want to work with such a jackass, so I just ignored him.

The first night in Aruba was not a good one. I was running on about an hour’s worth of sleep and I was depressed as hell. In fact, I wrote an article about the depression I was feeling and posted it on my bicycle touring site here.

The next morning I checked out of the hotel and rode with my bike and trailer down the California Lighthouse in the northeast side of the island. Once I got out of the touristy areas the ride became quite enjoyable. I spent the day looking for geocaches and riding in the dunes on the east side of the island.

Later that day I rode back to the main part of the island and checked into the timeshare resort.

The resort was located about a mile from the beach, but I found this to be a great benefit. It was away from most of the crowds and my room came with a balcony with an excellent view of the fancy resorts and casinos that line the northern coast.

Inside my room I had a bedroom, 2 bathrooms, a fully stocked kitchen, and a living room. It was more than I needed and it was my home away from home.

Most days in Aruba I woke up late, checked my email, and then went on a bike ride for a couple hours during the day. Then at night I would return home, take a shower and walk down to the tourist area to get some dinner (usually just French fries). Then I would talk back to the resort, watch some TV and eat my dinner, and then go down to the pool, check my email again, and write some articles for my bicycle touring website.

As I think back on it now, these were perfect days. I was doing everything that I like to do! I could sleep in late, go on a bike ride, eat my dinner in peace, and hang out on the Internet. If I could work my life out so I could do this every single day, I’d be a very happy person.

I could go into great detail and tell you every little thing that happened to me out there, but I’d rather not. Instead, I’ll share some photos with you and that will be it.

To wrap things up I’d simply like to state that when I first got to Aruba I nearly had a panic attack and wanted to leave immediately. But once I got settled in I really began to enjoy myself and didn’t want to leave. I could have easily stayed there for another few weeks. I really liked it… and I’m sure glad I went.

To learn more about my trip to Aruba… and to learn how I used my Bike Friday folding bike while on this short excursion, I have created a bunch of material which you can purchase for a small fee. This material is called “Traveling With A Folding Bike - Cycling In Aruba” and is available online at my website at BicycleTouringPro.com. 

In my junior year of college I finally mustered up the courage to go on a ride with my University bike club. The only bike I had at the time was my Fuji Touring bike… and I was uncomfortable in my tight bike shorts and school riding jersey, but I was able to keep up with the group (for the most part) and had a lot of fun in the process.

After that first ride with the club, I knew I had to get a new bike if I ever wanted to come back and ride with the group again. My touring bike is a great bike for long slow rides, but for going fast, it just wasn’t going to cut it.

That weekend I went home and visited my local bike shop. I tried out a bunch of different road bikes before spotting a white and red (my school colors) LeMond Zurich in the corner.

“What about that bike?” I said to the salesman.

I grabbed the bike, took it out for a short test ride, and instantly knew that this was the bike I wanted. The frame was used and had some pretty heavy scratches on it, but the components were all brand new and the ride was as smooth as hell.

I bought the bike the next day and was the envy of the bike club the following week. It was nice to be able to keep up with the riders in my club… and I actually beat a few established members of the long uphill climbs.

I ended up riding with the University bike club until the end of my senior year, but after I moved to Utah, the bike has been sitting unused in my condo all this time. There is a ton of mountain biking up where I live, but the road biking is extremely limited. There just aren’t that many places to go!

That being said, I recently decided to sell my treasured LeMond. I put an ad on Craigslist.com and a few weeks later the bike was gone. The new owner is a 20-something war veteran, back on leave from a stint in Iraq.

The bike represents some of my best times in college, so I was sad to see it go. But I’m glad I could give the bike to someone else for them to enjoy. I was also glad to free up some room inside my condo and add some much needed money to my “long term savings” account. I’m saving up to go on another bicycle tour… so this money will really help.