Author: Bill

Today I did a triathlon but the only evidence is my gps tracks which include my back country ski and snow bike followed by a skate ski. Even though I pulled out the win (last one standing) it wasn’t until the middle of the skate ski that my counterpart gave up and went to the lodge to throw back a couple cold ones. The tragedy is that I lost my camera so now I must post a description without visual stimulation. So you might want to skip this blog since my writing skills suffer from  limited vocabulary and twisted imagination. I guess I will try and paint a picture for each stage.

We were the last ones out of the lodge that morning. We finally got a chance to explore the big cabin and found nice comfy bunk beds upstairs. So even though the rest of the pack were trudging out and getting a huge lead on us we lay on our backs basking in silence. The ceiling was tong and groove pine and even thought the cabin was almost ten years old looked brand new. I suggested we build a cabin like this and we dozed off trying to come up with ideas on how to finance a piece of land.  The silence in the public cabin was broken when a skier came clunking into the front door and woke us up.  We quickly put on our skis and headed out on the first leg, a classical ski to the vehicle.

I was shocked to see fresh floatation bike tracks in the snow in front of me and soon enough a snow biker came into view. I wanted to stop and chat but the first prime was at stake and I needed to get to checkpoint 2 before the skate skier.  But I lost and went into debt to her which included one porter at the brewery in hamilton. The bike leg took the majority of the day and included the usual snowmobile encounters and slogging through warm evening snow. All of it went pretty fast except for the half hour spent hiking towards a moose. The large beast kept looking back and then back down the road. It looked like it was trying to determine if it was worth moving out of the road or not.  Looking back at us it wondered if maybe we could be persuaded to turn around. Maybe a small charge and attack would do it.  Then moments later looking back down the road it was wondering how far down the road the new guest wanted to go.  There was one certain thought in the mosses head. I am damn sure not going to walk through that 5 foot deep snow alongside the road.

In the end I outlasted everyone and it was not hard. The hardest thing of the day was skate skiing in a classic ski only area.  I double polled up one trail with a moderate amount of climbing.  That is tough folks.  There was one stretch that i had enough room to skate and went past one visiting family from England.

“What is that man doing mommy?”

“That is called freestyle honey … it is not really what we are doing … “, a long pause followed by a sigh, “It’s a new thing that some skiers are doing now”.

I skied up and made the final turn to come back to the lodge and collect my winning prize, a kiss from a hot podium girl. I focused on my form because I wanted to look as good as I could coming across the finish line to take the world championship.  I passed the family again and the boy who was getting up off the ground looked up at me with a bright smiling face.

“We tried to do what you are doing but it is hard … whew … I keep falling down”.

Another soul inspired to do something different in a woprld of imaginary racing.

ON THIS DAY FEBRUARY 13TH

• 2010: Grocery Night Chronicles
• 2009: Friday Feels After a Beast of a Week
• 2008: Regeneration & Revival
• 2007: The Saga of the Never-Ending Day
• 2007: Do I Have Exercise Bulimia?
• 2005: Failed McLeod, Black Tail Peak
• 2002: Bedtime Thoughts & Unplanned Wins
• 2002: Best Trail Site
• 2002: Listening To My Inner Self
• 2001: Homework Hustle & Inner Voices

I wasn’t high on a ridge in Bozeman like the night before. I was on cross country skis in the South West part of Montana at a ski area called Chief Joseph Pass. I was a long way from my nightly view of the Absorka Range. I was skiing out in front of a small group and started to wonder why my mood was so rotten lately. Was it adventure deficit syndrome or just plain crankiness due to old age and lack of sleep? I skied on and continued to ponder.

Soon I approached a intersection and stopped to wait.  On the far side of the trail I spotted a park bench.  “Odd”, I said to myself and skied over to it.  I backed up to the bench and sat down. I looked into the sky and thought back to all the summer evenings I sat looking at the stars. Then two of the stars seemed to fall from the sky. Then grow larger and before I could react came right at me. I closed my eyes. Obviously I was sleep deprived and started to hallucinate.

When I opened them two beautiful women where sitting on each side of me. Ok! Yes, I had finally lost my mind.

“The group needs you Bill”

“Yea … they grow comfortable inside and have forgotten the path of the beam”

“You must bring them outside and lead them away from the creeping rotten death that surrounds the human dwellings”

I came back to reality, I hoped anyway, sitting on a log. I tried to shake off the small vision I just had when the small band of friends skied up to me and asked what to do next.  I suggested we should make our way to the cabin. 

Once inside the scenery changed from pristine moonlit landscapes to colorful  sweaters and wonderfully smelling food. Chairs, tables, and dishes.  Everything that makes a cabin the the woods comfortable.  And there was a feast taking place were everyone was busy eating and chatting about the days events.

“What is everyone doing tomorrow”, I asked.

“Maybe we should see if we could do that long snowmobile trail all the way to that forest service cabin.  I can ride my Mukluk and you all can ski. It will take all day. What do you say?”

All eyes gave me a concerned look for just a moment; or did I just image it? I felt invisible and started to explain further when the room erupted back into a mixture of talk and clanking sounds of silverware.

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY:

Let’s take a stroll down memory lane and explore some remarkable moments captured in blog posts. Join me as we uncover the tales and snapshots that have shaped my digital diary:

• 2010: TNR Night
• 2006: Yuk!
• 2005: McLeod Peak This Weekend
• 2003: We Have Moved!
• 2002: Grown Up Job Deserves Pizza!
• 2001: New Energy

I don’t know what it is. When an endurance junkie like me takes a couple days recovery suddenly life just falls apart.  I am at peace when my schedule is overbooked and I am working out during every sliver of time. But the last couple days have been light and I find myself at home starring at the walls. I turn on “Craig Fergusson” and can’t follow the punch lines. I flip open my laptop and research the latest sports nutrition.

Later on, I find myself in the Bozeman CoOp looking a canister of goat protein. I lean forward and the price tag comes into view. I retreat discussed … $65.00. “Holy Shit”, I internally yell. I whirl around, grab a canister of Spry gum and head to the checkout line.

Back at home I hang my laundry and plop back down on the couch.  I stare at the wall. Flipping on the TV again it is repulsive so I flip it back off and start Pandora on my laptop.  The tunes flood into my apartment and I start wiggling my foot. What should I do?  The music is making my dream of working out and I go to the kitchen to grab a local map. I start pouring over the ridgelines and high points planning tomorrow’s work out.

I can’t stand the music any longer. I turn it off and the urge to go ride starts to subside … a little. I can’t sit down any longer and start pacing around the apartment looking for things to do. I start to lose it and I grab the foam roller starting to do some core routines.

“I am jonesing man”, I say to an imaginary adventure dealer. “I gotta have some stuff”. “I just can’t stand it”.

I have a list of things to do, pay some bills maybe, fix some shoes. But I keep on procrastinating. I have plenty to do but lack the motivation to do them. Didn’t I want extra time to get caught up?  This is the time to get caught up. “Argh”, I smack my head in frustration.

Tomorrow I will get back to the workout grind. Some intense intervals running up the Bridger Range.  And I will have limited time and be as busy as ever; getting ready to travel to Missoula.  And through it all everything will get done tomorrow.  I will work 8 hours, pack the car, do two workouts, and tune up my bikes.  All in one day. Something I cant do now …. because I don’t have my stuff.

“I gotta have some stuff”. “I just can’t stand it”.

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY:

Dive into these posts for a glimpse of history, from thrilling adventures to thoughtful musings!

• 2011: Couch crashing
• 2009: 24 Hours of Rapelje Update
• 2008: Rested Now South To Hamilton
• 2006: Weeping Woman
• 2002: Dropping Out Of School

The sun was setting, and I was in a bind. My goal had led me to failure as evening approached, forcing me to retreat for safety. Tracing my steps back, I pondered my predicament: stranded on a ridge with dwindling daylight and inadequate gear against the cold. Life’s dualities struck me—partnerships require harmony, jobs balance work and reward. My adventure was lopsided, marred by unexpected snow and misled expectations of an easy climb. I had overlooked the mountain’s silent warnings, mistaking its bare appearance from afar as a green light.

Darkness fell, and the ordeal intensified, culminating in a forced overnight stay. Frustrated, I yelled at the mountain, absurdly seeking answers from an inanimate entity. My outburst, a brief release in the solitude, highlighted the true imbalance within me. Alone, I recognized the fault was mine for misinterpreting the view from my window, for embarking impulsively on this venture. It was a personal revelation, not a failure in communication with the mountain, but a misjudgment on my part. Resolved, I knew it was up to me to find my way back.

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY

let’s take a stroll down memory lane with my captivating(lol) posts!

• 2011: Out with Jill
• 2010: Reset
• 2008: Back Home
• 2007: After A Ride
• 2003: Evening Hike

I watched her lights fade into the night, then dashed up to my place. “Brrr… chilly,” I muttered. I grabbed my work gear and left for another Bozeman Monday. My bike felt strange as I pedaled to campus. At work, I thought… Alone.

Loneliness, a shadow that often trails behind us on our journeys, can sometimes feel like an uninvited companion on the roads we travel. Bob Dylan, in his profound simplicity, offers a beacon of light in navigating this solitude. His words serve as a map, guiding us back to the warmth of human connection and the simple acts that can illuminate the shadows.

“Find old friends if they’re still around, talk t’ the old people an’ the young people,” Dylan suggests, reminding us of the bridges we can build across the divides of time and experience. In the bustling streets of Missoula or the quiet trails that surround it, the opportunity to reconnect with the past and engage with the present is a gift—a chance to weave the richness of varied lives into our own.

“Runnin’ yes…but stoppin’ for a while, embracin’ what I left an’ lovin’ it – for I learned by now never t’ expect what it cannot give me.” Here, Dylan touches on the essence of embracing our journey, including the pauses and detours. It’s in these moments of reflection and reconnection that we can truly appreciate the beauty of what we’ve left behind, and also, crucially, learn the limits of what we can expect from the world around us.

This message speaks volumes, especially when the trails we choose lead us into moments of isolation. The act of reaching out, of finding those old friends or sparking conversations with both the elderly and the young, becomes a powerful antidote to loneliness. It’s not in grand gestures or monumental achievements that we find relief from our solitude, but in the simple, meaningful connections that remind us we are part of a larger tapestry.

In Bozeman, as in life, the trails we ride are not just paths through the wilderness but metaphors for the journeys we undertake. Dylan’s advice encourages us to pause, to appreciate the landscape of our lives, and to remember that our solo rides are punctuated by the opportunity to share moments with others. It’s in these shared experiences that we find the true essence of life and happiness, learning not to expect what cannot be given but to cherish what is.

So, as we navigate our paths, let us take Dylan’s wisdom to heart. Let us stop for a while, reach out to those around us, and find joy in the connections that bridge the gaps of our loneliness. In doing so, we not only light our way but also illuminate the paths of those we encounter, together weaving a narrative of shared humanity against the backdrop of our individual journeys.

I have lived in Bozeman for 6 months now but my experiences have been limited. Most of my time has been spent in Missoula actually. When a hiking buddy showed up this weekend here in the Bozone we decided to get up on a high spot and take a look around.

The sun was out almost like a nice May day when we started out at the ‘M’ trail. Not to be confused with Missoula’s ‘M’ trail this one jets up pretty fast passing the large letter around 700 fee vertically from the parking lot. approaching just a hair past 1 mile you will have climbed 2,000 vertical. So it was no surprise we needed to take a break when we broke out on the Bridger Range ridgeline.

The views were pretty grand. To the East were the Crazy Mountain Range and South of them the Absaroka Range. South of us were the Gallatins and to the East of them the Madison Range. Turning to the West we could see the Tobacco Root Range and beyond. Truly a great spot to inspire future adventure plans.

Once we got our wind we set out along the ridge to the north. The West side of the Bridgers seem to stay dry due to the excessive sun in this part of Montana. But the East side collects snow and this is where you fine the Bozemanites playing in their winter fluff. So it was no surprise when suddenly we were post holing through deep white powder. Not enough to ski mind you but beautiful nonetheless.

The setting sun provided us with some great shadow patterns on the snow. I held up the evening retreat from the mountain by stopping often for black and white inspirations with the camera.

The trip down was fabulous as well when we were greeted by a Bozeman sunset and  some new trail explorations. As the day grew to dusk and we approached the parked car I wondered why I don’t spend more time in Bozeman.

My day usually kicks off with a snow bike ride up Rattlesnake Corridor, weather permitting. Ski grooming often makes it tough, but I try my luck. On a rainy morning, when the trails turn to slush and ice, I head back, pushing my snow bike through the corridor. The tough conditions in Missoula make outdoor fun a challenge this time of year.

Back home, I opt for hiking, despite icy trails. It’s less daunting than snow biking. Maybe getting a horse is a good idea in this icy, rainy weather. Eventually, I wind up at home, indulging in a homemade treat, “Lomond Bon Bleux”. This leads to a sugar-induced sleep, and I wake up needing to call in sick.

I miss mountain biking.

I keep expecting snow, and those warm winds to turn into icy blasts. Riding my Mukluk, I feel like I should be in a blizzard, Larry’s natural habitat. But this week, winter took a break.

Instead, I got stunning views and, frustratingly, some of the best road riding I’ve had in Montana. Missoula had me craving roads, but Bozeman’s full of them. The roads are dry right now, except for high up on the passes.

This week’s training was brutal. Tough tempo intervals against strong winds. The fat tires on my snow bike added so much resistance, turning my legs into aching lumps. I sweated more than usual, and the sun almost made me feel guilty, like I was breaking a winter rule. But this is Bozeman, a place of clear blue skies and non-stop sunshine. And I can’t complain about the scenery.