Day: March 22, 2024

Today kicked off with the kind of thrill only a library card on a rainy day could rival. I dove headfirst into an epic binge-watch session of autism documentaries, a heroic quest for knowledge. The plot twist? I was out cold on the sofa before you could say “educational enrichment,” showcasing either my fierce dedication to self-improvement or my unmatched talent for catching Z’s in record time.

Waking up with a blend of guilt heavier than a poorly chosen metaphor, and a dash of ants-in-my-pants syndrome, I decided it was high time to brave the great outdoors. My destination? The notoriously untamed US West Trail. My welcome party? A squadron of either mosquitos or flies—honestly, who can tell the difference? They were throwing a kind of buzz-filled fiesta, probably marking their calendar for “world domination: phase one.”

But hey, nothing could deter this adventurer. I pressed on, making my way to what I’ve dubbed the jumbo saddle, where it seemed summer had pulled a sneaky on spring and taken the throne early. The scene was a mix of dry landscapes and toasty air, a vivid reminder of the recent weather’s mood swings. Yet, there I was, living my best ‘man versus wild’ fantasy.

The day’s been on the quieter side, perfectly in sync with the chill vibe of this particular Friday, devoid of any grandiose schemes—unless you count my upcoming date with Cuddles. Ah, Cuddles, the poorly but adorably named patient requiring some intensive care. Seems like we’re both in dire need of a bit of downtime.

Now, about that to-do list lurking in the shadows of my mind like a mystery novel villain, its secrets remain locked away. What’s the master plan to tackle it? Another documentary deep dive, or perhaps surrendering to the sweet siren call of naptime? Whichever path I choose, the saga of the to-do list remains as enigmatic as ever.

Every time the sun comes out, it hints at something bigger than that one blissful moment. As I write, the snow is falling outside, so I must go off what I remembered from this past weekend. And as I start to go over that moment and what made it so great, I remember that feeling of something bigger… just around the corner. Could it be that there will be a string of entire days in sunlight? Could it be that a time is coming when it stays warm? Will we be able to eat outside on the porch? Maybe?

Once in a while you have to post a boring blog post. This is my entry.

Last year we got to the Bear Creek Cabin a day late but this year we cemented our arrival by planning a meet up with friends.

Upon arriving at the bunkhouse we quickly geared up for a ski with everyone. We had our new back-country setup and were excited to try them out. What we encountered was rocks and a case of “big lack of snow”. At one time I ended up walking. But we made it up to view the Sphinx Mountain.

The ski back was in the dark but there were no casualties. Later on there was food and drink. What you would expect from a outing of this type, slider type, ski for bill language defecient. Sometimes an outing doesn’t include a big story or lots of photos. And this was one of them.

Recently a hiking partner and I set forth to hit the summit of Baldy Mountain here in Bozeman. But what got in our way was the day in general. Brilliant sunshine coming into a apartment window can make the mornings preparations slow. I took numerous coffee breaks sitting on the deck in the sunshine.

Then stopping in for “supplies” got out of hand with tantalizing selections at the local food CoOp. We were not at the trail head until like 3pm.

Then we simply forgot the effort involved. I mean I am all in when it comes to efforts but it takes time to climb 3,000 feet in like a mile and a half. After hiking straight up for a couple hours were were on the ridge. But the day was old and summiting would mean a night decent.

So we turned around. Life is romantic when you see it on paper. The path before you looks fun and easy enough. Just wait till you try and live it. Turning around was the best choice on that day. Bacon curry pizza best choice.

Returning to Missoula can sometimes feel like walking into a grayscale photograph. Today, the outside world seemed to wear a cloak of grey so dense, I half expected it to weigh me down if I dared to step out. It looked downright unwelcoming, a far cry from an invitation for any sort of activity. Yet, after a bit of internal wrestling, I managed to break free from the grip of my cozy indoors.

By the time I got out, the clock had already laughed at my initial plans. I had dreamed of spending over five hours biking, but this tardy departure turned my grand plans into a mere nudge to get at least some air and movement. A “quick and dirty,” if you will. Just something to shake the cobwebs loose and take a few deep breaths amidst the whirlwind of thoughts from the past few days.

My Muckluk and I ventured into the Rattlesnake area, hopeful for a slice of better conditions. Instead, our journey was a dance through mud and slush, painting us with the day’s palette. Familiar trails rolled under my wheels – Mandatory single track, Turkey Trail, Shampoo, Spring Gulch, and Stewart Peak. Each one a brief visit, a “quick and dirty” endeavor with boots on the ground for about 80% of the journey. But hey, no worries.

Just a quick and dirty… well, more of a slushy adventure, really.

Tonight, I’ve stumbled upon a rare gem of an evening where I can actually plop down and watch a hockey game. Usually, my routine is as predictable as a sitcom rerun: clock out from work, dive into training, blend up a recovery smoothie that’s probably too green for its own good, and then crash harder than a clumsy figure skater. But lately, my job has been giving me a mental workout that’s tougher than any gym session, leaving me gasping for a breather like I’ve just sprinted through my entire day. Wrestling with a solid nine hours of focus feels like asking my aging brain to run a marathon without training. Luckily, my knack for juggling time like a circus performer means I’ve still managed to squeeze in those all-important workouts. Today, I was on fire, knocking out both sessions by 6 PM. Escaped for a lung-busting hill session on Sentinel at lunch and wrapped it up with some much-needed regeneration after battling the commute home.

As I’m sifting through photos, half-watching the Avalanche attempt a Hail Mary against the Blue Jackets, I can’t help but think Colorado needs a miracle lineup to dodge missing the playoffs.

Stumbled upon this snapshot of Moonlight Basin and, honestly, it’s hard to believe this gem is tucked away in Montana. Sure, the commercial glitz is hard to ignore, but you’ve gotta tip your hat to the sheer bliss of living it up there like you own the place. Took a spin there about a month back, cruising the snowy streets on my new bike. Felt like a breath of fresh Montana air, a sweet escape from the same-old Missoula that’s felt a bit more monochrome these frosty months. It was like stepping into another world.

So here I am tonight, a change of pace with my feet up, hockey on the TV, mentally mapping out my next great adventure on two wheels.

So we have no more favorite photos of 2009 so now I must start taking some photos of my adventure and hope that will keep all of you Lodge fans satisfied. My latest round can not possibly show the fun that we all had yesterday frolicking in the dirt but they don’t do a bad job in showing what summer looks like.

It was last Friday that the call came in. I was to be plucked from my Missoula home, blindfolded, and whisked away to a secret undisclosed location to test some secret and highly classified single track that may make it into a Montana race. I cant disclose the race name so I will call it “some kick ass 100 mile loop race that is our countries finest”. That should not give it away.

I was barley able to collect my things and the next thing I know I was standing on a rock in the middle of sand, sagebrush, and endless miles of mountain biking. I was standing there naked with a kit in my hand. A voice said, “Put it on” and so I did. “Now get out there and ride”.  And I did.

What a day I had. I was astounded to ride some entirely new trail that I didn’t know existed. My fellow trail partners agreed it was a hoot.

I was having such a good time I once took some blissful air to only look down to find no trail to land on. It was then that I knew it was a dream. I would hit the ground wake up.  Right? BAM! I stuck the landing and the judges posted a “9.7” “10” “10” “9.9” “10” “6.1” (Damn Russian judges).

I didn’t wake up and it wasn’t a dream because about a second later my friend Garland came rolling up to the edge of a riser and said, “how the hell did you get down there”. Um yea, kind of missed a corner somewhere.

We rode all day and then I was whisked back home and dropped off back in my previous life. Shoot! I didn’t have any time to get my laundry done, my only weekend chore. So I went to bed.

Hey from University Ridge! Found myself a comfy log to spill my thoughts. The sun’s dipping low, painting the sky all sorts of gorgeous. Couldn’t make it all the way up—turns out the snow’s still king of the upper ridge. But hey, this evening’s trek with Marcy (my trusty four-legged sidekick) is pretty awesome. Spring’s in the air, days are stretching out, and the nights? They’re finally shaking off the chill.

So, here I am, parked at my desk this fine morning, and lo and behold, they haven’t made off with my computer yet. Hence, I’m penning down this little memento.

Over the weekend, this relentless ticking noise – Tic Toc, Tic Toc – was my not-so-gentle reminder that my days at Sikorsky Aircraft are numbered. I pondered jumping ship earlier, but honestly, when does one stumble into a gig as riveting as the Comanche program? It’s like the space shuttle’s drama, but on steroids – and yes, we’ve got ex-NASA folks here to vouch for it. Despite my boss being a thorn in my side, the crew here has been nothing short of stellar. It’s a mixed bag of feelings, really.

Feeling queasy this A.M. – is it the looming uncertainty of my tenure on Sikorsky turf, or perhaps it’s the dread of today’s performance review (as if it matters now… my ship’s sailed). Maybe it’s their peculiar farewell ritual here: a walk of shame escorted by armed guards, clutching your belongings like a scene out of a heist movie. Faced with the prospect of losing face before my comrades, I’m torn – do I stand my ground with grace, or simply strut out, head held high, proving I’m not just talk?

Either way, I’m all jittery, heart racing, and feeling utterly shell-shocked. As folks trickle in, it looks like the show’s about to kick off shortly.

Just hopped off the Zoom merry-go-round, and what’s the scoop? Feels like I’ve been flung back to that dreaded high school class, except now it’s dubbed “Professional Letdowns 101”. The gist? It seems my knack for weekend shenanigans paired with my lackluster weekday hustle has earned me the title of MVP in the corporate doldrums. And here I was, thinking weekends were reserved for Netflix marathons and breaking personal records on the bike, not for drafting up dreary reports.

Talk about déjà vu! It’s like reliving those high school days, except now, adult me is starring in “The Rumor Mill: Part Deux”. The narrative? I’m the underdog-turned-villain, allegedly skating through college on a cushion of easy A’s and snagging bike race victories by skirting the rules (insert dramatic score and a sarcastic slow clap). But, now that the cat’s out of the bag, it’s time to wear my slacker badge with pride. Here’s to kicking back, soaking in my liberation from all expectations, and basking in the glorious sound of not giving a hoot.

Morning, folks! Today’s news is quackers, literally. Mom’s surgery got the ax, and now I’m on a mission to quack that doctor like a duck detective. Not the best news, but hey, gotta roll with the punches, right?

Speaking of rolling, yesterday I became one with my road bike for three glorious hours. Explored some pretty sweet backcountry in CT, gotta say, this state hides some hidden gems! Oh, and my trusty four-wheeled steed got its 20k service, purring like a kitten now.

But hold your horses (or ducks?), the real highlight of the day? Free. Friday. Bagels. Need I say more? Catch y’all later, gotta fuel up before quacking down on that doctor situation. C U!