My left ear hurts, and my head is pounding. My left calf muscle has been aching since it thawed out. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Sure, I crashed four times, but that didn’t hurt me as much as a full-body freeze. I can’t focus my left eye, and both itch like crazy. My left arm feels tingly, and my right, I can’t lift. I am thawed out now, and the damage is done. It all started yesterday as I was putting together a movie for our annual Missoula Thursday Night Ride end-of-season party.
I watched a small video of an adventure race I attended. I totally forgot who was in it and what a great weekend that was. I was so impressed by the overall full course winners. I competed in the smaller race and barely made it in. Four different times in the video, my heart made a call to the motor skills department to stop processing and close down all visual understanding. Soon after the call to the brain, all muscles were put on standby for an “outing”. I tweeted my intentions and started climbing Mount Dean Stone.
Dean Stone is a 6,204-foot high mountain with all of Missoula’s vital communication equipment on top. All the equipment is up there because it’s the closest and most prominent high spot adjoining our beautiful city. Too bad there are towers on top. Since Missoula sits at 3,190 feet, this little gem gains over 3,000 feet in around 11 miles of stunning jeep trail and a gazillion switchbacks. It’s one of my favorite go-to climbs when I just need to get out and not burden myself with where to go. In the winter… absolutely dangerous.
At 53 minutes, I was making my way up Higgins Avenue. I noticed that I was colder than I normally am comfortable with. I knew it was supposed to be cold out, and I dressed accordingly, but I just felt underdressed. The brain had specific instructions not to let anything stop this journey, so I kept going. I was helpless to my systems. My mind had a plan, and I was on a need-to-know-only basis. My only comfort was that this was an 11-mile and 2-hour climb; surely I would warm up.
At 1:21, I swung off of Higgins and stood to climb up Pattee Canyon Drive. I knew my mind was up to something, so I suggested we stop and stretch. No can do, we are a team, and you are following me is the message I got back. This was not a good idea to be heading up a mountain climb without proper tires. No studs and brakes that were iffy at best. Still, I had no choice, so I rode on.
At 3:40, I was totally warmed up to the idea of the adventure that was before me. The setting sun would give me beautiful views. I thought back to that adventure race and the video, sat back into my saddle, and ran through some scenes. The brain suddenly shut down the images and sent in a message to go to level 3. We had a mountain to climb. Focus.
At 4:21, the last real thought crossed my mind to be processed. I was remembering the last time I rode up this way last Thursday night. We encountered ice, and what if the entire Dean Stone climb was ice? My mind started to drift to the last visual memory of this climb. When I climbed it in the glow of a beautiful autumn… that was it. No more cognitive thoughts were allowed to pass through my brain. I was on auto adventure now and had to just sit back and try to enjoy the ride. I knew the function of this ride and it was best to let it run its course and purge the soul.
The rest is a blur, but I do remember specific waypoints. This would come in handy later. Later, when my brain would take over the heart and try to save its host.
I took a shortcut off Pattee Canyon Road which is a single track up to Larch Camp Road. This piece of protected coulee was pivotal in saving me from certain complications from hypothermia. After an hour-long descent in 10-degree temps, it wouldn’t be good to continue past it to approach Pattee Canyon Drive for another mile or so. After which would be another 20 minutes of descending into town. If it weren’t for this shortcut through the woods, I would have ignored all red flags until I just crashed off the road from a loss of coherence. I needed this oasis from the wind to walk, do windmills, give a couple of pep talks, and regain composure before continuing down into town.
I remember the moon, which seemed to be in communication with my heart, conspiring to punish its host. At times it felt so ominous that I had to glance back to see what was following me. Like a semi-tr
uck following a car on a winding road before ramming it; causing it to leave the road and crash. One time, I did find myself launching over the bars into the road.
I remember the road was icy with deep snow. It was so hard to keep a straight line I went down three times in crashes that resembled yard sales. My extremely worn gloves would get ripped off, along with lights and gear. At times, I wanted to crash to stop the freezing wind chill from my descent.
Mysteriously, my brakes failed, and I tried tri-poding down the road. I couldn’t grab the brakes anyway, so I just dismounted and walked. I walked until my legs were numb. Why didn’t I go out with extra layers? Bike shorts and windbreaker pants were not doing the trick. Once, I glanced down and saw that the wind had pushed my pant legs up near the knees, and my legs were totally exposed. Jesus… I was falling apart.
Overall, the descent was just a plain all-out desire to save myself. What put me in that position was my heart. It had overriding control until the brain woke up from its drug-induced slumber. The heart had sabotaged it and tried to take over control of the ship. I was sitting atop Dean Stone with my legs crossed, looking out over the Missoula valley. The moon had the entire landscape illuminated. It was so beautiful it seemed like I had frozen tears stuck to my eyelashes.
“Holy shit, man! What the hell are you doing sitting here? Your sweat has frozen you into a Buddha-like statue. It’s freaking 8 degrees, you shithead,” screamed my brain to my slightly tuned-out consciousness.
“I just didn’t want the world to see me because I don’t think they would understand…” the words being sung across my earphones by the Goo Goo Dolls. Just then, my iPod went out for good. The battery was frozen and dead. I couldn’t text for help if I needed to now. Things were becoming relevant now, and it was imperative for me to snap out of it and descend.
Safe now and back to reality. My training starts soon for the 2011 season, and just in time. I need to keep the mind busy, so the heart doesn’t pull any stunts again. Still, though; tonight, I have this desire to go for Miller Peak, a full thousand feet higher and 10 miles further. Round two, maybe?
Post Notes:
Don’t feel bad if you don’t get the significance of the times; it means something to me, and that’s good enough. :53, 1:21, 3:40, 4:21
Boneshakerbike 
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