Day: March 16, 2025

July 18th, 2024: It’s the wilderness that gets you… these little pockets of magic hiding in plain sight. Point Six might not be the tallest peak around Missoula, but there’s something about it that keeps pulling me back, especially in summer when the valley’s cooking like an oven. The mountain’s always got something new to show you.

I could bore you with the stats (and I probably will). Standing at nearly 8,000 feet, Point Six isn’t trying to compete with the big boys of the Rockies. It’s got this modest prominence of 440 feet, give or take. But numbers don’t capture what makes this place special. They can’t tell you about how the wildflowers explode across the slopes in a riot of colors that’d make an artist weep.

Those white bell-shaped blossoms tucked between the rocks? They somehow find enough soil to thrive where nothing should. Incredible, really. And then there’s those bright yellow clusters reaching toward the sun like they’re trying to outshine it. The mountain’s got its own garden show going, and we’re just lucky spectators.

The views from up there… that’s the real payoff. The Rattlesnake Mountains stretch out before you like some ancient sleeping beast, all green ridges and valleys carved by time and weather. On clear days you can see forever, I swear. The perspective makes you feel small in the best possible way… like your problems don’t amount to much in the grand scheme.

There’s this little stream that cuts through one section of the trail, water so clear and cold it hurts your teeth. It’s probably been flowing that way since before people ever set foot here. Makes you think about permanence and change all at once.

Yeah, they’ve got the Snowbowl down below, and there was talk years back about expanding ski runs up toward Point Six. Part of me is glad they never did. Some places should stay a little wild, a little hard to reach. Makes the effort worth it.

The weather station up there’s been silently watching it all, measuring wind speeds and temperatures while the seasons change around it. Recording data nobody really sees but somehow everybody needs. Kinda poetic, in its way.

I don’t know what it is about mountains that makes you philosophical. Maybe it’s the thin air, maybe it’s just being surrounded by something so much older and more permanent than yourself. Either way, Point Six delivers. Not bad for a little peak with a number for a name.

Ah, Lake Como, tucked away in the Bitterroots, just a stone’s throw from my buddy’s Red Barn. It’s our go-to escape every so often. Sometimes she’s a frozen wonderland, other times she dazzles under the summer sun. This last visit, with her icy cloak on, we trekked around on foot, just basking in the splendor. Seriously, what’s life without a solid van camping adventure at Lake Como?

Looking back on this day in history, how did I end up here at Lake Como?

In the early days of 2002, I remember waking up to the challenge of a Busy Day, feeling the rush of excitement as I prepared my trusty mountain bike for the upcoming race season. It was the start of something new, a journey that would take me through the highs and lows of life, each pedal stroke a step into the unknown.

By 2004, I found myself in a darker place, with Depression Creeping In. It was a time of reflection, realizing that even in my lowest moments, there was a lesson to be learned, a strength to be gained from the silence and solitude.

In 2007, the spirit of adventure was rekindled with Spring Break 07 Highlights, reminiscing about the good times spent in the mountains, the joy of friendship, and the simple pleasures of life. It was a reminder to cherish the moments that bring us happiness and to always seek the beauty in the world around us.

The year 2008 brought Perfect Blizzard Conditions, where I found myself embracing the challenges of nature, finding peace in the midst of a snowstorm, and learning that sometimes, you just have to weather the storm to appreciate the calm that follows.

2010’s Escape taught me the importance of finding moments of tranquility in a world that never stops moving. It was a reminder to pause, breathe, and take in the beauty of the present.

In 2012, Pipestone on the Way served as a symbol of the journey itself, a path that leads through unexpected landscapes, teaching us to embrace the journey, not just the destination.

By 2017, the 2017 Togwotee Winter Classic Report reflected on the solitude of racing alone, reminding me that sometimes, the most significant battles are the ones we fight within ourselves, pushing through doubt and discomfort to emerge stronger on the other side.

Most recently, in 2023, I took a moment to reflect on Walking in Sunshine, a serene walk through the forest that felt like a secret garden of peace. It was a moment of clarity, a realization that no matter how far I’ve come, the journey of self-discovery and growth never truly ends.

Looking back on this mosaic of experiences, I’ve come to realize that life, much like a bike ride, is filled with unexpected turns, steep climbs, and exhilarating descents. Each post, a chapter in my life’s story, taught me resilience, gratitude, and the importance of living in the moment. And if there’s one witty reflective life lesson to sum it all up, it’s this: “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” But never forget to enjoy the scenery along the way.

I just arrived in Missoula but not before stopping off at one of my favorite dirt venues. This time of year when most of Montana is frozen and covered in ice and snow Pipestone has always been to go to for a dirt fix.  It stays dry mostly because of the way the weather systems come across the continental divide.  In any case there is enough dirt to satisfy any knobby laden cyclist.

This time around I took the Mukluk out for a frolic in the dirt and was surprised to find out that it is pretty fast … downhill.  The uphills take a hit as expected by you cant beat just rolling across harsh terrain with some fat rubber underneath you.  And …. it is comfy.  Like riding a sofa. 

My turn around was near a box canyon where a little moisture seemed to still be present and if you know anything about Pipestone then you don’t want to be anywhere around moisture.  The sticky clay is so robust it will not even wear off your tires. I have had mtb tires that had Pipestone mud for their entire lifetime stuck to the side walls. And if it gets on your bike … goodbye paint.  Thanks god my Mucky is anodized. Kind of like the sport … sticks to ya.

Ah, welcome to episode 20 of “Through My Lens: The 2009 Chronicles.” Today’s star, making its grand entrance into my cherished “Ice and Snow” portfolio, is none other than “Escape.” Captured on the brisk afternoon of December 27th, 2009, at precisely 2:15 PM, with my trusty (albeit on its last legs) Canon SD 1000.

So, there I was, a couple of days post-Christmas, feeling a tad bit like the last slice of fruitcake nobody wanted – a classic case of holiday blues. Try as I might, I couldn’t coax or guilt-trip anyone into joining me for a hearty trek into the great outdoors. Hence, armed with nothing but my camera and a stubborn resolve, I ventured solo onto the Sheep Mountain Trail. My journey led me to Blue Point, where I paused, contemplating the return trip, and that’s when “Escape” happened. With a swift click, I captured the serene beauty stretching from the Rattlesnake to Missoula Valleys.

Winter, with all its icy allure, truly shines in the mountains. The pièce de résistance? That moment when the sun begins its descent, casting a golden hue over the already stunning panorama. It’s Mother Nature’s gentle reminder that, despite the encroaching darkness, there’s an inherent tranquility, a peaceful calm, and, above all, an indescribable beauty.

Bundled up and carbing on a bagel while snowflakes dance outside… life indeed goes on. I’ve uploaded some photos to my web album to share the experience.

Yesterday’s venture to Lost Trail Pass was a repeat of the blizzard challenge from two years back. The drive there was stunning, but as I pedaled towards the pass, Mr. Blizzard decided to join the party.

This year, I may not have ‘won’ against the elements, but I completed my ride and had a blast.

The cold was biting, especially as I returned to Sula. My knees were stiff, almost as if my muscles had turned to ice. A detour down East Fork Road into Badger Gulch brought some warmth back into my limbs and lifted my spirits. From that point, the ride was fantastic, despite the earlier discomfort.

Stay warm and enjoy your own rides!

Second time’s a charm, they say, and Paul and I proved it by once again turning the mountains and local haunts into our playground for a week. It’s like our own version of a spring break movie, minus the questionable decisions and plus a lot more snow.

Day Off Shenanigans
This year, I went all out and took a whole day off work to prep for Paul’s grand entrance. I tidied up the place and unearthed my ski gear, buzzing with anticipation for the skiing escapades and culinary adventures that lay ahead. I was battling the vacuum cleaner in the living room when I realized it was time to rescue Paul from the airport. At 10 PM, I was so zombified from exhaustion, I could have been an extra on “The Walking Dead.”

Paul’s arrival kicked off our spring break with a bang. We made a beeline to the nearest store to stock up on essentials: beer, wine, and snacks. Then, back home, we let our imaginations run wild with the possibilities of what adventures we’d embark on first. After consulting “The List,” we collapsed into bed, slightly buzzed and thoroughly excited. Thursday seamlessly morphed into Friday.

Epic Breakfasts and Lolo Pass
Our Friday began in the lazy, leisurely manner only late nights and good company can justify. We lived by our golden rule: “No plans shall be made until breakfast is devoured.” Our initial target, Rattlesnake Gardens, was a bust for breakfast, leading us on a culinary detour to the Rocky Mountain Grill – a decision that turned out to be nothing short of brilliant. Between my heap of savory goodness and Paul’s pancake feast, we created a breakfast sampler that was a sight to behold. Fueled by this feast, we were ready to conquer EMS shopping and Lolo Pass skiing. My ankle, recently on the mend, was put to the test and passed with flying colors.

Crystal Theater Misadventures
Saturday’s agenda was initially as clear as mud, but over breakfast at Rattlesnake Gardens, inspiration struck. We decided to explore the enigmatic Crystal Theater before heading to a cabin on Little Saint Joe Mountain the following day. Despite getting tangled in the thickets and losing our way more times than I care to admit, we eventually stumbled upon a well-trodden path. The Crystal Theater exceeded all expectations, offering backcountry skiing paradise. Our adventure there was marked by breathtaking views, a loose ski binding repeatedly fixed with Paul’s trusty Leatherman, and a mental note to find the trailhead more efficiently next time.

Adventures on Little Saint Joe
Sunday saw us teaming up with our buddy Ethan for a hike up Little Saint Joe Mountain. Despite the looming threat of rain, we pressed on, rewarded with stunning views of the Bass Creek Crags peeking through the clouds. Our evening ski was the highlight, with gusting winds and fast-moving clouds creating a dramatic atmosphere. Yet again, my ski binding became the bane of my existence, threatening to derail our fun.

Braving the Storm
The real adventure, however, came with an unexpected turn toward the existential. Amidst a brewing storm, a strange compulsion drove me to consider summiting alone, embracing whatever fate the mountain had in store. This dramatic moment, thankfully, passed, and Paul and I regrouped, narrowly avoiding an avalanche zone in our descent.

Warmth and Farewells
Our spring break wrapped up with a rest day filled with hikes, coffee shop lounging, and a hearty dinner at the Iron Horse. Paul’s departure marked the end of an intense, unforgettable four days. As I gear up for cycling season, I’m reminded of the power of friendship and adventure. Until next time, I’ll keep adding stones to our “Wish You Were Here” pile on University Mountain, hoping it doesn’t grow too large.

Lately, I’ve been lounging around more than usual, which might be a sneaky sign of the blues setting in. I’ve been reaching out to pals and family, only to be met with the sound of crickets. It’s a strange vibe, getting the boot from your job. Suddenly, it’s like you’re ghosted until you’re back on your feet. Talk about a reality check!

Just took a trip down to the Bridgeport facility to check out the Comanches being pieced together. Holy guacamole, I had no idea how epic the Comanche was! Crafted from carbon fiber and titanium, it’s nothing short of a technological marvel. Honestly, it deserves a spot in the Smithsonian, stat.

And here’s the tea about my old boss – total letdown. Turns out, other departments were living the dream. They’ve got a vibe down there that’s just chef’s kiss. Guess you live and learn, right?

Heyo, folks! Looks like my online time might be a bit spotty today – I’ve got a couple of honkin’ big projects on my plate. First up, I gotta get my trusty mountain bike all tuned up and ready to shred for the upcoming race season. You know how it is, those two-wheeled beasts need some serious TLC if you want ’em performing at their peak. I’m talking a full-on spa day here, folks – drivetrain overhaul, brake bleed, you name it. Can’t let the other riders’ rides look better than mine out on the trails, am I right?

Speaking of trails, once I’m done pampering my cycling companion, I absolutely must get out there and log some miles. A man’s gotta stay in shape. Plus, there’s nothing quite like cruising through the woods, leaves crunching underfoot (or under-tire, I suppose), that fresh piney scent filling your lungs. Sheer bliss, I tell ya.

But wait, there’s more! I’ve also gotta swing by this new place I’m checking out and do the whole…”sniff around and mark my territory” routine, if you catch my drift. Can’t reveal too many deets just yet, but let’s just say it could be the start of a wild new adventure for yours truly.

Anyway, enough rambling from me. I’ll do my darndest to pop online and give y’all some updates when I can. No promises, though – this day’s looking like a doozy! Wish me luck, and keep those wheels (or whatever body parts you use to get around) spinning, my friends!