Kicking off my digital escapade way back in ’03, I tossed out a post that, looking back, was kind of the “Hold my beer” moment before diving headfirst into the whirlwind adventure the interwebs had in store. “Embracing the Chaos” (link) was me, trying to make sense of the beautiful mess called life, not knowing I was just at the starting line of a marathon filled with twists, turns, and the occasional faceplant.
Zoom to 2008, and bam, “Inside and Outside” (link) hits the scene. It was me getting all deep, mulling over the yin and yang of my world—solitary projects in one corner, and in the other, bonding over two wheels and open roads. It was like having a lightbulb moment in a dark room, realizing there’s a pretty neat balance between doing your own thing and being part of a wolf pack.
Then came 2010, with “South East Bitterroot Riding” (link), painting a picture of a moment so peaceful in Montana, it almost made you want to whisper. It was a hat tip to Mother Nature and the call of the wild that keeps me chasing after the next trail, a constant reminder that there’s nothing quite like the great outdoors to clear your head.
By 2012, “Saved by a Package” (link) was my nod to the universe’s quirky sense of humor. Who knew a simple package could drop in like a plot twist, offering a slice of calm in the daily hustle? It was like life handing you a “Pause” button when you least expect it.
2013 rolled around, and “Putting hay in the barn” (link) wasn’t about farming but stacking up those bits of life’s puzzle, one day at a time. It was me, getting philosophical about the seasons changing and how they’re a lot like flipping through chapters of a book you’re writing on the fly.
2014’s “Togwotee Winter Classic” (link) was basically me saying, “Hold my hot cocoa” while racing through Wyoming’s winter wonderland. It was about that adrenaline rush, the camaraderie in frosty air, and the sheer bliss of doing what lights your fire, even if it means freezing your toes off.
“Watching and waiting” in 2016 (link) was like sitting on the edge of your seat, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for the season finale of your favorite show. It mirrored the jittery feels of awaiting life’s next big plot twist, a universal theme of hanging onto hope with both hands.
Then, 2017 brought “Sick Adventures” into the spotlight (link), showcasing the unstoppable urge to just go for it, caution thrown to the wind. It was a testament to that fire within, pushing you to explore the edges of your map, even when your sensible side is raising an eyebrow.
And here we are, 2023, “Forest of Majestic Splendor” (link) wraps up the latest episode of my digital saga. This chapter was a high-five to the timeless awe that nature inspires, a collection of words and snapshots that try to do justice to the endless marvels out there.
From the first “Watch this” moment in “Embracing the Chaos” to the serene vibe of “Forest of Majestic Splendor,” my blog’s been the trusty steed on this wild ride through curiosity, awe, and a stubborn streak of tenacity. Each entry, a breadcrumb on the trail, knitting together a tale of adventures, epiphanies, and the occasional stumble. Riding through this digital landscape, it’s crystal clear—it’s all about the journey, not the pin on the map.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
The sun casts golden rays of light through the tall, green and brown trees of the forest, creating a stunning contrast against the bright blue sky. The trees reach skyward, their branches intertwining and creating a canopy of protection from the outside world. The air is alive with the sound of birds singing and the scent of earth and leaves. A peaceful and majestic sight, this forest is truly a sight to behold.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
We were sick. But when you already have the forest service cabin rented it can somehow inspire you to go anyway. Even for a couple of sick people. Saying, “we can probably just drive it it anyway”. The fatbikepack into Hells Canyon Guard Station was pretty taxing and probably not the best decision we have ever made.
Battling a cold in a cabin
When Mo passed out in front of the wood stove I realized that maybe this was not such a good idea. I was up all night making tea and keeping things warm. Mo wheezed and coughed. As the sun cracked the ridge the coughing stopped for 5 minutes. I slipped outside to check out the surroundings. Then a storm hit.
The cabin scene
By the end of the storm Mo was up and messing about. I went outside to grab some wood and to also discover that we got a fresh 4-6 inches. There is something about fresh snow. It’s inspiring some how.
Fresh storm means we need to try and ride
Even for a couple sick people and inspiring enough to do an adventure ride. Say, “just down the road a bit to see how the conditions pan out”. Turns out conditions were perfect and we went a lot further then anticipated. Mo played it safe and went back early while I stayed out.
Mo, battling a bad cold gets out for a little ride and showing good form in the heel drop.
I rode to the top of a ridge that looked out over the valley where we came from the night before. I wondered if Mo made it back to the cabin. I figured I better check and rode back. She was nestled in drinking tea and doing cross word puzzles. And then the sun came out.
There is something about the sun shine. It’s inspiring some how. Even for a couple sick people and inspiring enough to do an adventure hike. Say, “just down the road a bit to get some fresh air”.
Color in the white?
But the little adventures started to take their toll and we found ourselves back at the cabin to take naps and try to recover. The sun was setting and another storm rolling in. There is something about the darkness during a storm. It’s inspiring some how. Even for a sick guy and inspiring enough to do an adventure ride. Say, “just up the road a bit to test the way out tomorrow”.
A storm looms over the evening ride
And then I did it again. Got lost in the adventure. Riding by headlamp, pressed for time because a storm was near. Plus I was halfway around a big theoretical loop. Mo was monitoring me via radio from the cabin. But then I rode out of radio range. Now alone should I go for the loop or turn around? I went for the loop.
Wayward
There is something about going for it without anyone knowing where you are headed. It’s inspiring some how. Even for a sick guy and inspiring enough to finish an adventure loop. Say, “I know this loops around somehow”.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
We have friends over and I am recovering from a vitamin C burn in my chest so I sit at the computer with a hint of wanting to go for a ride to enjoy the sunrise. Speaking of sunrises my friend Jill and I share sunrise moments even across the miles due to a magical morning encounter during a 24 hour race ages back. This morning as the sun streams through our front windows I know that I am the only one enjoying such a moment. 2,404 miles away Jill is bivvying out on Island Point in Alaska. Possibly hunkered down behind Little Mountain surrounded by the sea. The ITI facebook site suggests,
“Jill Homer and Mike B are out of Shaktoolik and they are crossing 30 miles of sea ice in the morning. at 0 degrees with 25-35 mph they are looking at wind chills of down to -27 F and slow progress with this crossing.”
Wow, doesn’t sound like she is enjoying a sunrise this morning. From here I await her dot’s movement. And wonder when all my packages arrive to start my new adventure.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
The new Bill showed up in the Teton Valley this past weekend. Screw competitiveness and hello fun was now the new motto. Learn, observe, and soak it up. Being almost 48 now it is a must. Enjoy it while you can remember the good times, right?
We stopped into the Togwotee Lodge to grab a map. And then drove over the pass to our cabin we rented. Shocker … at 3 in the afternoon. If anyone knows us at all then they know we don’t arrive until like 10 or 11 in the evening. Being there so early and in daylight was weird. So we went on a quickie fat bike ride and took a look around.
When we returned we partied like it was 1999. Beer, brats, and staying up late doing cross words. Like I said party!
The next morning we woke up and drove to the start of the The Togwotee Winter Classic and prepared for our race, me the 35 miler, and my partner the 25. Without nerves everything was easy. Get the bike out jump on and start. For me I just wanted to ride the loop and have fun. To be in the moment and not expect to keep up with the leaders or go for the win. Nothing to fuss over and no scrambling with last minute details. If I needed to adjust the air in my tire then I could do it out on the trail.
And we were off like a swarm of bees making our way up the initial climbs. The race director had mentioned that the lodge groomer had broke down and the trails were not groomed. But thankfully the great folks at Togwotee Lodge did do a last minute groom the night before after their rig got fixed. So at least the start was groomed. That meant a fast front group followed by all the stragglers. I choose straggler for a bit.
Soon though the front group slowed down to a reasonable pace and I joined them. I wondered to myself why all these years I worry about starting so fast. So this time I did not burry myself and still made it to the front feeling fresh and excited. Very fun to be riding with blue skies overhead and the most beautiful scenery around.
There is a beast of a climb just before the 35 miler turn. JayP actually climbed the beast and left everyone for dead while we just trudged up on foot. Some even managed to do a respectable job getting back on and climbing the rest. Me, I just walked up it thinking that I was on my own from here. That was OK, in fact I didn’t expect to stay with the lead. I was right where I wanted to be. Riding my bike in a beautiful place. Well … soon would be riding.
On top of the climb I saw Jay and a bunch others heading up the 25 mile route. They turned to see who would go off to do the 35. I stopped and looked left down the hill. OMG, no fresh snowmobile tracks, just powder. Now I understood the directors warning that it wasn’t groomed. I waved good bye to the group and bombed down the hill. I was in the lead.
For a while I wondered if I was the only fool to take on this walk-fest 35 mile today. Last week I did JayP’s Backyard Fat Pursuit so I was no stranger to walking. And I did not have any expectations. Just wanted to be out there. And I was … alone. Now walking.
My elbows started to hurt. And for the rest of the day this was the only lagging problem. It felt like tennis elbow, probably the effects from the week prior at the Pursuit.
Then I was caught by a rider, I think Paul Nash. Then two more, Adam and Chris Leiferman. The day even got better. People to ride with … walk with.
Two of us had like 4.0 wide tires and the others, Adam and Paul, had real fatties. I am guessing 5.0’s. Every time I got off to walk Paul would catch me and Adam and his brother would extend their lead. I did not expect to ride and got on when I could but I did have that observation. This fits into my new motto. Fatter tires for more riding pleasure. I made note to get fatter next year. But no worries. It seemed Paul and I were putting out the same effort and would end up riding together today.
At the end of the valley farthest from the lodge I went poking around and found a half buried solid track. I was able to ride back to Adam and Chris. This was fantastic, what a bit of luck. All three of us walked the next series of hills coming out of the valley.
Soon it became apparent that we could ride and to our joy we could. The day was turning out fabulous. As we headed back towards the CDT trail Paul caught back up to us and then we became the 4 amigos out on a sunny winter day. The next hour or so was filled with fun decents, animal tracking, and funny jokes.
There was a pause at the CDT junction for a bit while we debated on which way to go. I reported that we were to go right due to my recollection from two previous years. Finally we found a sign to validate my claim and we were off again, this time with a rider trailing us. Wow, could this party arrive at the finish line with 5 riders?
The pace slowed so I took the lead. I reported that someone was joining us but no one looked back. It seemed as if everyone was kid of at the end of their rope. So I just set a reasonable but quick pace. Nothing that would burry me but enough to at least have a fun race to the lodge.
“Your’e dropping everyone”, came a voice behind me. I just pedaled on figuring I could make a little break and make it interesting. It was close enough to the finish I could get a little competitive and still have fun. Not like starting out wanting to win and getting buried and passed like the year before. I was having a blast.
I pulled away and had a sizable gap. I had tested my legs on a couple climbs and realized I should settle down a bit. Then it came to me … I was going to win. But thinking that was a mistake.
It was a mistake because I formulated an expectation. I was leading and far enough out to assume I would win, right? Soon I started seeing things I have never seen. And making climbs that were not in previous year’s courses. Yep, I was lost. Seems like the old Bill showed up just in time to mess up the expected win.
So I slipped back into my new self, stopped caring, and just enjoyed the ride. The view was outstanding and the sun was out. Fabulous day. I was able to determine I had passed the cut off to the lodge and rode backwards on the trail we started on. The view of the Tetons was outstanding.
I rolled into Togwotee Lodge and took a moment to turn off my GPS. I was dragging my feet because I was a little embarrassed to go inside. I got lost while leading the race. And by now everyone I had been riding with was probably waiting for me. I went in to the “sign in sheet”.
“The winner!”, someone yelled from across the room. Everyone started clapping. All racers seemed to make the wrong turn and do the extra 4 miles. And as a bonus, I won.
And that is the most interesting part of the weekend. But not all of the fun. The entire weekend was fun, and relaxing. We hung out at the lodge and ate Elk Burgers. Then we stayed another night at the cabin and enjoyed a scenic drive home the next day. All fun. Not just fun “except for the race where I got waisted”. Without expectations fun just happens.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
Alright, let’s dive into today’s agenda with a bit of spice and everything nice.
Shot taken after our bike respite last November. Shot out of the window driving like 700 mph.
First off, “stashing the hay in the barn.” Sounds like something straight out of a country song, doesn’t it? Snapped this pic during our biking breather last November. Imagine us zipping past landscapes, the camera barely catching up, making it look like we’re breaking the sound barrier. Just wrapped up a core workout session. That’s one in the bag, and oh, just a casual few hundred more to conquer. Yep, just casually “stashing the hay.”
Now, onto bidding adieu to Winter. Is it too early to start waving goodbye? With the mercury hitting 55 degrees, I reckon not. Just hammered out an isolated leg session on the bike. And let me tell you, it’s a world away from the freeze-frame moment captured on my camera a month back. It’s like Winter and I broke up, and I’m now flirting with Spring.
Just finished with a core workout. One workout down hundreds to go. Putting hay in the barn.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
Mondays, right? They’re like a whirlwind that picks you up and doesn’t bother putting you down gently. So, today (or should I say yesterday? No, it’s still today) was a marathon. Kicked off the day bidding adieu to someone, prepped for work, raced against time and still clocked in late, danced the nine-to-five scramble, and floated home in a post-work haze. Then, in a classic plot twist, remembered my workout just in time to procrastinate and doze off on the sofa, with Craig Ferguson providing the soundtrack to my unintended nap. Realized my workout guilt, tackled it, checked in with someone, wrapped up the sweat session, and then—boom—crashed into bed like a log, unaware of my own crash landing.
Now, caught in this weird pre-midnight time warp, I’m trying to piece together the day and wrap up my usual routines. Shower? Ha, who’s got time for that? And then, like discovering treasure in my own home, I stumbled upon a box in the hallway. Oh yes, the cavalry has arrived—my Action Wipes, but not just any; the brand spanking new ones with the upgraded formula and multipack glory.
Here’s the scoop—these wipes are rocking a 100% natural, plant-based preservative, making us trailblazers with a fully natural, body wipe multipack. Sure, other wipes might flirt with 97-98% natural claims, but we’re here to win the game. Why the upgrade? Simple, to combat the bacteria baddies that might sneak into the pack, ensuring every wipe remains a hero until the very last one.
Why haven’t others jumped on this bandwagon? Because good intentions come with a price tag—$60 an ounce for the chemical stuff versus $200 an ounce for our natural goodness. But hey, your skin deserves the best, free from synthetic nasties and harsh chemicals.
And let’s not forget the Cananga odorata (Ylang Ylang) oil—my personal scent superhero. It’s exotic, it’s sensual, and it’s the secret behind that “why do I feel so good?” sensation. Added to strike a perfect harmony with the preservative’s citrus vibes, ensuring the new multipack smells just as heavenly as the singles.
Zeph and a Action Wipe
So, no shower tonight? No problem. A swift Action Wipe refresh, and I’m feeling minty fresh, ready to dive back into dreamland. Hats off to Martha for this genius solution to end a chaotic Monday.
Here we are, at episode 18 of my photographic homage to 2009’s visual feasts, dedicating today’s spotlight to a gem tucked away in my “Cycling” album: “South East Bitterroot Riding.” Captured on the idyllic afternoon of September 13th, 2009, at precisely 2:50 PM, with my trusty Canon PowerShot SD1000 (yeah, that little warrior of a point-and-shoot).
Bitterroot Riding
Now, I’ll be the first to admit the name of the photo sounds like my creativity took a little nap—essentially, it’s named for what it is, not what it evokes. Truth be told, it might not clinch any photography awards. Yet, it embodies the sprawling beauty Montana generously offers to anyone on two wheels. A real treasure, indeed.
On a related note, my brain’s been noodling over the Butte 100 and its burgeoning popularity. Some folks might fret over the swelling participant numbers, fearing overcrowded trails. However, I see a silver lining. The more of us that revel in Montana’s outdoor splendor, the stronger the message we send to those in charge: our trails are invaluable. Plus, a little birdie named Bob shared that the event’s proceeds are funneled right back into the trails we cherish and compete on. It’s like giving back to the very paths that give us so much joy.
So, see you at the starting line? Anything you need to make this happen, you’ve got my number. Let’s make it a reality.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
Yesterday was a teaser of what could’ve been a glorious outdoor adventure, but alas, duty called with an indoor strength workout that just couldn’t wait. However, the real party started afterwards when I got to tinker with my buddy Paul’s bike. It’s shaping up pretty nicely, if I do say so myself.
Pauls New Bike
Now, here comes the plot twist—tonight marks the grand premiere of the TNR (Tuesday Night Rides, for the uninitiated) season, and guess what’s making a dramatic entrance? Our first spring snowstorm, right on cue. It’s like deja vu all over again, mirroring last year’s soggy start to the riding season, complete with a side of rain that seemed to put a damper on everyone’s spirits—and attendance. Let’s cross our fingers and hope we’re not about to hit replay on that dreary tune!
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
Ah, Fridays. They swoop in like a superhero, signaling the start of the weekend marathon: launching laundry into the machine with the finesse of a discus thrower, navigating the grocery aisles with the strategy of a chess master, and embarking on the sacred pilgrimage to Kettlehouse. But, in a twist that would shock M. Night Shyamalan, my internal clock decides to join the dark side, thinking 3AM is the prime time for a wake-up party. Seriously, why do I suddenly become the life of the party when the rest of the world is off in dreamland?
Then there’s that magical morning view from Mount Sentinel, a reward for last night’s adventure. The plan was a group conquest of Sentinel, but it turned into a solo mission. Middle ring engaged, I summited alone, and let me just say, I’m doing a victory dance over here. Who’s the MVP? Yours truly.
Looking ahead, the weekend’s agenda is a deep dive into refreshing the trail descriptions on my blog, with a sprinkle of optimism for hitting those trails myself. But alas, the sands of time wait for no one, and my brief escape is up. Back to reality, I go.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
Today, I’ve got a trio of musings to share. First up, it’s the age-old clash of the seasons: spring tries to make its grand entrance, only for winter to crash the party like an uninvited guest. Then, we’re diving into the thrilling world of financial escapades (not the fun kind, sadly). And last but not least, a little something on the universal joy of employment. Ah, jobs, can’t live with them, can’t afford internet without them, right?
Snowpocalypse Now!
Alright, gather round, because I’ve got a tale that’s straight out of a snow globe. You know, one of those days when you peek outside and it looks like Mother Nature decided to throw a snow party and forgot to invite the sun? That was my today, folks. Despite common sense whispering (okay, yelling) at me to stay put, the call of the wild—well, more like the call of the snow-covered sidewalks—was too loud to ignore.
So, there I was, suited up like an explorer ready to conquer the Arctic, or at least the local park. The mission: a run. The reality: a graceful (if I do say so myself) dance with the elements. Snowflakes coming at me like confetti at a parade, turning the world into a blur of white. It was beautiful, in a “I might slip, fall, and star in my own winter fail video” kind of way.
Halfway through, my body’s sending me hate mail, but my soul? It’s doing the Macarena. There’s a strange joy in battling the elements and not just surviving, but thriving. It’s all quiet, except for my panting and the snow’s soft hiss as it hits the ground.
By the time I’m trudging back, I’m half-frozen but fully alive, armed with a new adventure to brag about. Here’s to the runs that test us, the icy paths that best us, and the stories that make it all worth it. Who needs a treadmill when you’ve got a winter wonderland and a dash of reckless optimism?
Financial Freeze Frame
Oh, and just when you thought things couldn’t get more exhilarating, let’s talk finances. Picture this: you’re ready to take on the world, and then bam! Your bank decides to play freeze tag with your accounts. Yep, that’s me—stuck in a financial ‘It’s Complicated’ relationship with Sikorsky Financial Credit Union and CITI cards. The former has put my card in the financial equivalent of the penalty box, and the latter? Well, they’re just not playing ball anymore. As for the dire straits threatening my blog’s very existence? Stay tuned. It’s an ongoing saga of suspense, intrigue, and hold music.
Work Woes or The Eternal Slumber Party
Last but not least, let’s commiserate about the one thing we all love to hate: our jobs. If anyone’s got the secret potion to surviving the 9-to-5 (or, in my case, the “whenever I open my eyes to whenever I pass out at my desk”), I’m all ears. Currently, I’m typing this with one eye open, nursing a headache that’s probably plotting to take over the world, and contemplating the existential crisis of getting out of bed to pee. Ah, the glamorous life of an adult.
And why, you might ask, am I torturing myself like this? Well, friends, it’s all in anticipation of an email from Adorama. Yes, that’s right, in the midst of financial freezes and job-induced insomnia, I’ve gone and bought myself a new camera. Because in the end, it’s those little sparks of joy (or retail therapy) that keep us going, right?
So here’s to navigating snowy runs, financial icebergs, and the wild ride of employment. May we find the humor in the chaos and the stories worth sharing.
On this day in history, ‘Hey Zeph! Want an Action Wipe?‘ I asked, after cleaning the blood from my shin.
Boneshakerbike 