The Radavist

It is hard to avoid the bodies of water that surround Seattle. I have always loved the water, from childhood summers spent swimming in Greenlake, to building illicit rope swings in high school, to having a first date on a small strip of sand my family long ago dubbed “Secret Beach.” As I grew up, I learned my friends had their own secret beaches, small access points bordered by tall trees and houses, strips of pebbles off Lake Washington Boulevard with a view of Mount Rainier, and rare sandy beaches touching the icy waters of Puget Sound.

Continue reading below for Conor Courtney‘s two-wheeled explorations of Seattle’s secret beaches…

[WARNING – please read with enunciations of the Queen’s English spoken with a harsh American accent leached with dry monotone and finished with a slight southern drawl.]

[NOTE – All persons are mixed and mashed conglomerations of friends masked by pseudonyms as to respect their identities.]

[FICTION –It actually may be close enough to nonfiction. Every tale is drenched with truth, maybe not all the truths belong to me, I might not even be the eyes telling this tale.]

With another eight to nine-hour drive ahead of me, this time solo because the polluting toots of my automobile fill me with joy—just kidding, hell, felt like an asshole—I had to figure out a way to fuck with my perception of time in order to maintain some level of sanity. Although being a fellow cyclist, y’all get that the bar is set real low when it comes to sanity. So, to risk sounding like a surface-wannabe-cultured-erudite, I tried hooking myself onto classical music with this grandiose nisus of increasing my attention span. Hear me out: not only would being able to melt into a forty-five-minute score enable me to complete long intervals with ease but enduring an entire classical score would help me get through the long drives to get to the long and arduous races those said and absolutely supposed intervals would prepare one for. Leave it all on the trail and go baroque.

Austin, Texas is a superb place to live in the summer months. If you can stand the heat, which many can not. Let me tell you, no matter how hot it is where you live, it’s hotter in Texas, because, well, everything is bigger in Texas. Part of living here is having access to swimming holes and this place in particular has been on my list for some time. It’s close enough to our house and seemed like a perfect day trip for Lauren to take on.

As with anything new and unfamiliar, bicycle camping, touring and even day trips can be a daunting task for people. Lauren’s never really done anything like a bicycle camping trip, so we took it one step at a time. The right mix of mileage, hills and hauling had to come into play.

We left before it was too hot and were home before it was hotter. We made a picnic, got sunburnt and swam. She got to officially christen her Icarus and I got some great photos of it all. Anyone with a spouse or a partner who rides knows the feeling of seeing them happy on a bicycle…

Tools of the trade:
Mamiya 7ii / 80mm
Kodak Portra 400

I’ve been enjoying Tony Fast’s Disposable series he’s been doing on his Tumblr and so when he was planning on coming back to Austin to hang out this month, I made sure he shot a few cameras for me. Don’t expect any epic freestyle or craziness. This was a good, chill time and at the same time, a great glimpse into how we cope with the Texas heat all summer. Ride, swim, eat, drink, repeat.

Click on the above photo to launch the gallery, or here to open in a new tab.

Yesterday was the quintessential Texas Saturday. We rolled out of the house mid-day after the temperature was in the upper 90’s and headed to 5 Hip. Tony Fast is in town to escape Santa Barbara and ride a bit. Puckett was blasting the new quarter with an inverted table and AJ was working on a flyout bar. Once the afternoon heat and haze crippled us, we headed to a secluded swimming hole.

On the descent down into the Greenbelt, Eric flew over the bars on his brakeless BMX and wrecked himself but it was nothing the cool water couldn’t heal.

Click on the above photo to launch the gallery, or here to open in a new tab.