1. Helmet
2. Shorts
3. Cables, pedal cleats or chain (tie)
4. Pedals, shoes, or saddle (tie)
5. Weird specialized tools, e.g. crank puller
6. Jacket or messenger bag (tie)
7. Bar Tape
8. Replacement drivetrain
9. Retro team jersey
10. Bicycle

I remember an ad for outdoorsy-type shoes (by Nike?) from some years ago (1995?) that claimed “Americans spend 1% of their lives outdoors.” I’m also pretty sure Nike (or whoever) omitted time spent travelling in cars, or going to and from cars, from that 1% figure. My memory is pretty hazy here, and Google is surprisingly unhelpful. So I might be misremembering.

However! At the time (1995?) it certainly didn’t seem unlikely that Americans really did spend 1% of their lives outdoors. And remember, this was before the Internet was actually interesting so the number may have declined in the interim. At the time (1995?), I was practicing archaeology, which occasionally meant spending as much as 100% of my time outdoors, if you consider sleeping in a tent to be “outdoors.” So on the subject of this particular (hazily remembered) Nike (or whoever) shoe (or whatever) campaign, I could feel a certain sense of moral superiority.

Which leads me to wonder, how much of my life now do I spend outside? Here’s a quick back-of-the-envelope calculation (do I make any other kind?)

In every 24 hour weekday, I always:

• Walk the dog for 30 to 60 minutes (total)
• Ride my bike at least 60 minutes (total)
• Walk to the coffeeshop in the morning and afternoon (15 minutes)

On a “typical” weekday in weather that isn’t pouring down rain I’m also likely to:

• Ride my bike an extra 10 miles or so (+45 minutes)
• Walk or ride my bike to the grocery (+15 minutes)
• Take a lunchtime bike ride downtown (+30 minutes)

So for my usual weekday activities, in pretty good weather (10 months of the year in Portland), I probably spend about 210 minutes outdoors, which is about 14% of a 1440-minute day.

My weekends — especially since Orion’s arrival — are seldom “typical” in any sense, so I’m going to try to pin down a minimum here. This will involve a lot of handwaving I’m sure. But on any weekend I’m pretty likely to do the following:

• About 90 minutes of yard work
• 120 minutes of dog-walking
• Perhaps 60 minutes (as a rough average)¹ of bike-riding

So in a 2880-minute weekend, I’m spending at least 270 minutes, or 9% of my time, outdoors.

I don’t think I lead an excessively outdoorsy life, but it looks like I’m al fresco 9 to 14 times more often than Nike’s putative average American. That seems fishy. If the average American spends 1% of their time outdoors (omitting time spent going from car to door and vice versa), that pencils out to just 14 minutes a day.

Do you think most Americans spend less than 14 minutes/day outside?

And does anyone else remember that ad campaign?

Notes

¹ This is a really rough average, especially now that Orion is here. Pre-Orion, I might have gone two or three weeks without a significant ride, with a four to eight hour monster in the middle.

The more I work, the more I can work.

The way to make friends is to have friends.

The more I eat, the hungrier I feel.

When I don't yell at the dog, he's more likely to do what I want.

Lonely people never leave the house.

The more I ride my bike, the more I want to ride my bike.

Money attracts money.

Watching TV makes me want to watch TV.

To be loved, love.

The more I give, the more I have.

I can't sleep when I'm tired.

If you want something done, give it to a busy person

3 am, suffering the usual insomnia. Out of idle boredom I’m browsing Wikipedia, entirely because I can. Although, as Wikipedia itself helpfully notes, as of “June 2007” I would, actually be able to do this from China. I’m trying to remember if I looked at Wikipedia at all the last month we were there...

What I’ve learned recently [with the usual disclaimer that this is stuff anonymous unqualified strangers assure me is true]:

• The Earth’s Atmosphere has more Argon than Carbon Dioxide
• China has partially unblocked Wikipedia
• The Robustness Principle (also known as Postel’s Law) states “Be conservative in what you do; be liberal in what you accept from others.” (This has something to do with engineering Internet protocols, but seems like a good recipe for life, generally.)
• Kelly Souders, one of only two Souders on Wikipedia, has written or co-written 17 episodes of Smallville. I’ve never seen Smallville.
• On July 17, 1815, Napoléon made his formal surrender to British forces on board the HMS Bellerophon off the port of Rochefort, France, ending the Hundred Days.
• At Waterloo, Napoléon did not, actually, surrender.
• The tiny Polynesian nation of Niue has effectively outsourced its foreign relations to New Zealand which seems fricking brilliant given America’s performance over the last five years.
• Famous Nebraskan Harold Edgerton, inventor of the photographic strobe, died in 1990.
• Talk pages for the most unexpected subjects provide hours of schadenfreuderific entertainment.
• Schadenfreuderific is not a real word.

We’ve been back in Oregon for 24 hours now, most of them occupied by sleeping or running errands like crazy people. I’m too wiped to pour a lot of thought into a post, or to recap the return journey (Cliff’s Notes: it took 35 hours, 20 of them of on planes, there were no major complications and we arrived in Oregon haggard but OK.)

But while I’m fresh, so to speak, here’s my impressions of America after a year in China:

• Damn, people here are fat.
• The buildings are reeeeeally far apart.
• It feels like Monte Carlo or some other Land of Millionaires. The cars are so new, the buildings are so clean, the clothing so expensive. There are so many things.
• But seriously, Americans are fat.
• Things that should be fast (freeways, checkout queues, service, the Internet) are fast. Things that should be slow (residential traffic, enjoying a cup of coffee, sunset) are slow.
• Hipsters are unbelievably transparent. Attention people who spend all day trying to look like you don’t spend any time trying to look like anything in particular: it’s not working.
• The human diversity is staggering. This was especially apparent at LAX. We find ourselves staring.
• You can see the stars.
• That tram thing running over the freeway is the stupidest looking thing ever.
• Everything is orderly and runs smoothly.
• Boobs.
• We feel distinctly unspecial. No one stares at us. Everyone understands everything we say, and vice versa. I wish I had a hat that said “I just spent a year in China and it blew my mind. Ask me about it!”
• I had a Real Beer finally (Deschutes Brewery’s Twilight Ale) and it was better than all the beers I’ve had in the last year, combined.
• Ditto for Stumptown Coffee.
• You know, not so much fat as big. Like with big arms, big heads, big feet.
• We can eavesdrop again.
• American cops (and border agents, security guards, etc.) are somehow a thousand times friendlier and a thousand times scarier than their Chinese counterparts.
• People here acknowledge one another’s existence. Strangers say “hello” to each other. They hold doors for each other. They make eye contact. They don’t spit or litter.
• I can see now why foreigners’ first impressions of America are universally “Americans are so fat.”