Author: Bill

Freezing cold temperatures makes for blue skies and beautiful outdoor experiences. The first part of this week has been pretty much below zero and I have to say I am happy. The commute conditions are perfect, my bike doesn’t get all messed up, and everything is just pretty. Winter would be pretty cool if it stayed like this.

Yesterday I went out for a workout on South Sentinel and found it tougher then I expected. At times I felt like passing out. Sure I had a full face baklava. Sure I was riding with screw tires. Sure cold temperatures makes for high rolling resistance. But all this does not register when everything starts to spin and vision goes to tunnel view. What registers in my head is, “YOU SUCK … YOU HAVE GOTTEN SOFT … YOU WEAKLING”. Ok, so I have issues to get over still.

 

This may seem that I am under the heavy anxiety blanket. Not so. I have been getting in my workouts, finishing all chores, and been going to bed at a decent hour. All this makes for a life that has started to level out and feeling relaxed and happy. I could use a little more friend time with my friends but some of that may be my doing.

Last year I was out doing the same thing, biking in the cold temps. Even two years prior I was involved in a commute on the same path I took this morning during spring break day 1 with Paul. All better then 7 years ago when I was almost dead in CT.

Speaking of “7”, I have lost 7 pounds. I figure, along with yesterday’s performance, I have 10 pounds to go before my birthday.  I will be 45 … shit I thought I was going to be 44. I have lost a year. Now I am half way there.  This could be why I cant ride my bike any more. Or maybe I just forgot my Carbo Rocket 333 yesterday and worked out at noon instead of preparing to hammer later when scheduled.

Still though, so far it has been a blue bird week.

The group stuck together and the topics dancing in the air had nothing to do with cross country skiing. There was theories on proper traction, screwing shoes, taxes, jewelry, Alden’s crashes, and other light hearted stuff. Lydia gave us a rendition of WalMart counter people and their complete outdoor ignorance.For me it was the highlight of the evening. Funny stuff.  Larry and Norm were there and like me kept the subject on the down low. It is embarrassing enough to have been a slider once.

Last night was the Missoula Thursday night group ride hike and most of the slider pushers were not present. We even found ourselves on dirt. Muddy dirt, but dirt none the less. It felt good.

Mother Thursday Julie had taken off earlier in the day for some sliding at Lolo Pass and our fearless leader Ed “McRibs” “Mr Cymbols” Stalling was somewhere in Missouri trying to snow board down some parking garage in the inner city. Laurie dared not to show up since she is a teacher of the slide. Even Alden the biggest snow slider pusher was out of the country talking penguins into going on a 16 hour ski trip.

Now I am not saying they are not missed. No, not at all. They are missed. But the lack of slider influence was nice. And the dirt, ok mud, made it all seem good to me. But that is my take on it.

Anyone want to slide up Lolo Peak this weekend?

I forgot how long I was out there. Out there on a trail in the dark. I turned on my head lamp to see if I could still make out her foot prints and the telltale sign that she was dragging a sled. The ever so slightly and faint tracks. Like a lightly weighted set of cross country ski tracks that looked suspiciously like set-track. I saw the foot prints but couldn’t tell if there were the sled tracks any more. I wasn’t certain I would find her. Still I trudged on.

It is my “night off” from training and I set out for a small hike to see if my knee has healed enough to go hiking; eventually running. I knew that my friend would be in the Rattlesnake Recreation area and I haven’t seen her in a while. So an hour earlier I set out to see if I could find this friend that has been absent from my recent endeavors but only because hers were so much farther away and way more substantial.

I was 3.5 miles out and no gloves so my fingers were vulnerable on the winter’s night. I didn’t have any water because I wanted to only go for a half hour hike. I started to run again. Running meant I could get out farther, just to make my chances more likely, that I would run into my friend. I was thinking about giving up and turning around. This would be very disappointing.

“BAD IDEA”, I thought to myself.

I was slightly agitated at myself for making such a over attempt at finding a friend. I had lied to myself that I wanted to test my knee and now it was all out in the open. “In the open”, I thought to myself, “Ill turn around when I get out into the open. Into the meadows. Yea, that is my plan”.

Lying again. To myself. I was just hoping for a glimmer of hope. A glimmer from a headlamp trudging across a meadow in the Rattlesnake on a winter evening. To test my knee … yea right.

“BAD IDEA!”, I thought to myself again this time almost blurting it out loud.

Then I saw a thread of light busting its way through the brush. Her light appeared through the trees and I was really happy that I had stuck it out. But wait. It was moving way to fast. Way to fast for a runner pulling a sled and training for the Susitna 100. It was more like the pace of a cross country skier. I even heard the sound of skis sliding through the snow. I prepared to question this skier to see if indeed they have seen my friend. Disappointment set back in almost immediately.

“BAD IDEA”, my soul whispered.

The dark figure with a dimming headlamp got closer. Then I realized it was her.

“Hi Jill”, I said feeling happiness overtake my disappointment.

I turned and joined her and we paced it back to the trail head. The trip seemed about a tenth as long going out as it did coming in. No matter, the entire endeavor all seemed like a good idea at this point.

The ride home was yucky. The morning snow had turned to slush. The cars on my extended commute took shots at splashing me and driving as close as they could get. With all that I enjoyed my ride home. It is the only workout I would get except for a regeneration routine I am about to do. It is a rest week and so I must practice the art of recovery. The art of recovery is much like regeneration.

Regeneration is a technique of helping speed recovery in much the same way as message. In fact it is a form of self message. I use tennis balls and rollers to message, roll out, and promote healing of my muscles.  With a recovery week one must promote the flow of life by doing things that normally I wouldn’t be able to do with a busy training schedule. Stimulate life’s other entities. With this extra supply of activity one can appreciate why a person does what they do.

I am taking this opportunity to reconnect with my laziness. I am lying around doing nothing. Watching TV, taking naps, and walking around in my undies. It is great to reconnect with ones laziness. In fact right at this moment I am watching a stupid Hollywood blockbuster type movie with the “Arnold” as a plane can be seen outside my window approaching the airport in the distance. Life is happening around me.

All these things are so much fun. Well not really … I don’t like watching life happen around me. I like to be the movie. I like to be the one happening to life. With this fresh perspective my mind stokes the burning fire.  Regeneration is paying off because I am feeling that fresh excitement to get out and race my bike.

Sunday I headed out for my first road ride of 2011. As I rode along and visited all the roads in and around Missoula I thought back.

Back to what I was doing in past years on this weekend in January.

In 2010 I was up on University Mountain riding my newly made screw tires. But this year I was riding a road bike up Grant Creek. As I looked up to the Snowbowl ski area I thought back to a ride Jill and I did up this road as the sun was setting on the newly white capped peaks.

In 2009 I was taking my Trek OCLV on one of it’s last rides up Sentinel without the aid of screws in my tires. I relied on the hard pack snow for traction but just getting up to the Crazy Canyon Road was a exercise in defying death.  My next drainage this year was Butler Creek. As I rode up this road it started to rain and I thought about all the training I did in 2009 for the world championships.

In 2008 I was getting back to cross country ski racing. I would go up to Pattee Canyon every night after work to try and get some sort of form down so I could complete the OSCAR 50k without dying. As I rode up a rainy Highway 93 I was thinking about that race where indeed … I died. That has always been a tough race. As I started that race I commented to someone that I would be ok because I had been working on my core.

In 2007 I was in Seeley Lake at a skate ski race with my friend Alden.  As I neared Kona Bridge soaked to the bone and cold I remembered being cold as hell waiting for Alden to get done with his “extra” ski after the race.  The race was over and he set out for some extra skiing. I enjoyed the after race BBQ but as that ended and everyone left I sat shivering waiting for him to return. Never get a ride with someone who likes skiing so much.

In 2006 I spent my weekends at Lolo Pass skiing and taking photos of the winter beauty. This year I was nearing the end of my ride and making my way down Blue Mountain Road I thought back to the days that I thought I would be a professional photographer. Times have ch
anged. No more dreams … just bikes.

My ride ended and I stood in the shower waiting for the feeling to come back to my feet and I thought back to fond memories of late January weekends before I moved to Montana. Some of the highlights like trying to go winter camping in negative 10 degree weather up on Mount Greylock in Massachusetts in 2004. Then there was the time in 2003 when Marcy and I explored all the state parks in Connecticut.  As I approach February I can take these memories with me and look forward to new fond memories. See you on the trails.

Norman suggested it and I immediately thought it was a good idea.  When recreating by myself I rarely have great idea. But when I get together with friends we always come up one. The expedition included plans to hike up Welcome Creek Drainage.

So the next day we planned to meet at City Brew. I figured that I would arrive early to enjoy some scone therapy and check my emails. It was no surprise that I was running late. Every time I plan on getting somewhere early I end up late. My excuse … my knee was extra sore.

“Does anyone have a map? I don’t know. Maybe we should just do something closer like …”, Julie started.

“I was kind of expecting to see what Rock Creek was like in the winter”, I added, interrupting her mid sentence.

I do that a lot, interrupting, and have been trying to work on it. But this time it was strategic. I didn’t want to do something local. It was the weekend after all. So as we started out to our cars we all agreed that it would be cool to go out to Rock Creek.

After some “I forgot my …” running around town we were off and Rock Creek looked great. In fact I was thinking that I should come back the next day and ride. Soon enough those hopes were dashed as the plowed road became a two track jeep trail. In the summer the dirt road goes 30 miles to another highway at the end. Today though it was un-maintained. I expected it and withdrew my plans to bike the next day.

We found the trail but not too soon because even with Julie’s 4 wheel drive we were limited to just going forward. In fact the only turn around spot would be the Welcome Creek trailhead parking lot. We parked and headed up the trail.

Trail was different then when Marcy and I did it 6 years ago. 6 years ago we headed straight up the ridge and the trail petered out. What we didn’t know back then was that the trail runs North for a bit before turning Westward up the Welcome Creek drainage. Lydia and I started out with snow shoes but soon Lydia opted to take them off. I kept trudging on trying to find a comfortable style of walking so that my knee would stop feeling like a knife was being inserted into the knee cap.

“I am really liking my snow shoes and REALLY recommend them”, I said in a suggestive voice.

The group agreed that it was time to put them on. Lydia was leading and kept falling through some crust and was starting to struggle. Each stop was a chance to chat and enjoy each others thoughts on various subjects. I found myself wanting to keep moving so would climb to a perch above the trail at times. I felt like a mountain lion stalking my prey.

It was an interesting hike and we turned around at about the 2 hour mark. On the way back I zoned out and kept a steady pace. I thought back to the last time I was out there but mostly something I will not blog about. This got me back to the car before everyone else so I was able to do some extra exploring to grab some photographs.

Tales from the Shoulders of I-90

Missoula might as well be the I-90 terminus of Serendipity. Everything rolls in on that artery, dreams and dust devils alike. And for me, it’s been a two-way street. This asphalt ribbon has ferried me out to chase rainbows in New England, tucked me in at rest stops on weekend adventures, and, yeah, whispered goodbyes on the shoulder, asphalt cold against my knees.

So, imagine my surprise when I ended up living just a stone’s throw from that very highway. Now, I wake up to the rumble of eighteen-wheelers, a lullaby of wanderlust and memories. Like that time I fell asleep at the Massachusetts toll booth after conquering a mountain with my best friend, the air still buzzing with victory and sweat. Or the afternoon I met a kindred spirit at a rest stop, sparks flying under the fluorescent glare like fireflies after a storm.

But I-90 is no stranger to shadows too. It witnessed the day my friend’s laughter quieted for the last time, the air thick with grief as I knelt, watching her last breath mingle with the exhaust fumes. This road carries ghosts, sure, but not the spooky kind. They’re the echoes of lives intertwined, journeys shared, and lessons learned, each mile marker a whispered reminder.

Today, though, the ghosts were riding shotgun on my mountain bike. The snow glistened like confetti on the trail, a fresh coat over the hardpack, perfect for a four-by-fifteen tempo interval symphony. Each climb took me closer to the MoZ summit, lungs burning, legs screaming, but a grin plastered across my face as wide as the Montana sky. This bike, you see, isn’t just wheels and gears. It’s a therapy session on two tires, a way to sweat out the anger, nurture the joy, and reconnect with the world, one pedal stroke at a time.

Maybe it’s weird, this whole ghost-whispering thing. But for me, cycling is a conversation with the past, a way to process the trivial and transcend the tragic. On these trails, the mountains echo with laughter and loss, reminding me that life is a tapestry woven with both. And sometimes, a good hill climb is all it takes to see the bigger picture, the tapestry unfolding beneath the vast Montana sky.

So, yeah, I guess you could say the ghosts keep rolling in on I-90. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. They’re my compass, my soundtrack, my constant companions on this wild ride called life. And who knows, maybe one day, I’ll be another whisper on the wind, carried on that asphalt river, inspiring someone else to chase their own ghosts, one pedal stroke at a time.

1. Missoula’s History and Geography: To understand the backdrop of your story, this resource offers insights into Missoula’s geographical location, its significance along I-90, and its historical context.
   Visit Missoula’s Official Tourism Site
2. Cycling in Montana: This guide provides information on cycling trails around Missoula and Montana, echoing your passion for biking and connecting with nature.
   Explore Montana Cycling Routes
3. Emotional Healing Through Cycling: This article discusses how cycling can be a form of therapy and emotional healing, resonating with your experience of using biking as a way to process life’s challenges.
   Read about Cycling and Emotional Wellness
4. The Influence of Roads on American Life: For a broader perspective, this resource delves into how highways like I-90 have shaped American society, culture, and individual experiences.
   Learn about Highways and American Culture
5. Grief and Loss: Since your narrative touches on themes of grief and loss, this resource provides insights and support for those dealing with similar experiences.
   Find Support for Grief and Loss

“Wanna ride tonight”, Chad asked me after a titillating description of snow biking conditions at Lolo Pass.

My immediate gut reaction was disbelief. After all this was a “school night”. There was one thing that could temp me to go. I immediately emailed my friend Jill to see if she wanted to go.  It would be my virgin ride on a snow bike and if there was one person I wanted to help me into this ultra cool sport it would be her.  She replied that she regretfully couldn’t pull it off.

So I just dropped the idea out of my mind, and got back to Chad. I gave reasons why it would take me a while to prepare and suggested maybe this weekend.

“let’s go. tonight”, I got in return.

That was it. Ask me twice and my heart will chime in. It took me two seconds to reply, “OK”.

And with that a giddiness came over me as I twittered, “Is going to Lolo Pass to do a FATTY ride … SWEET …0/0”.

“What, where?”, Norman commented almost as soon as I posted my tweet.

A couple short bursts of social networking and the date was all set. Norman would get to take Jill’s Pugsley out and we would meet Chad on Lolo for a trek to Lolo Pass. I excitedly went home and quickly threw some stuff together. “This is how skiers must feel”, I said to myself.

I was crunching on some corn nuts when Chad rolled into the Lolo gas station. We loaded up the Red Barn van and headed for the snowy wonderland at Lolo Pass. Once we were at the pass and bikes unloaded we were ready for my first ride on a fat tire bike.

“Norman … is that you?”, a female voice said from the other side of the parking lot. As she emerged into view from the parking lot lights she said, “what are you doing up here?”

“Biking”

“What? Will you be at work tomorrow”, …like Norman was committing suicide or something. “Your going to bike? How?”

So as Norman began to explain that this is normal behavior I was questioning what my friend did for a living. Given that a car full of women out in the middle of nowhere had recognized him from about 50 yards in a dark parking lot.

The conditions were not optimal. Lolo Pass gets groomed on the weekends and a recent snow storm had dumped about 8 inches of fresh stuff. Lucky for us some snowmobiles had been out there since then and somewhat packed the trails. But just enough and the going was slow. We averaged about 4 miles an hour, maybe 3. This all meant spinning out a lot and some zigzagging down the trail. I washed out a couple times and putting my foot down real fast was not a good idea for my injured right knee. Every time I mounted or dismounted (sometimes falling over) I felt a tug at the back of my knee. By the end of the ride I could hardly walk.

Not to be deterred by my personal challenge of being “winged” we did have a great ride. The moon was out in full force and at times the sky was a real dark blue. The skies were semi cloudy which made for some real cool tree/cloud/moon scenes. AND I was lucky enough to have found my previously lost camera. I never used the flash once. It was so bright out we didn’t need lights but had to use them at times to find the best lines through the semi packed snow.

The trail seemed to be going uphill and the going slow. Around the 4 mile point Chad stopped and proposed to turn around. It had been just around an hour and twenty minutes but the conditions were just to loose. We stuck the bikes into the snow banks and enjoyed the scenery. Chad whipped out his secret weapon against the cold night air … a thermos full of hot coco. It hit the spot just right and enabled us to stand in freezing temps just a little longer to soak up the moons rays. The scene was surreal.

Going back it was evident why we were dragging ass on the way out. It took us like 5 minutes to cover a couple miles. Bombing down the hill I got the feel why this sport is so freaking cool. There is no way we could do this on regular mountain bikes. I was ripping down a snowmobile trail about 16 MPH while snow was swirling up and around me like a vortex from a car going down a snowy road.

Between stops to find our fingers we were ripping down the trail and on one such session I caught a rut and stuck the bike into the bank. Usually one would go over the bars and enjoy a nice fluffy landing on their face. But I was so worried about my knee I just stuck with the bike and ate the handlebar. Even with this great idea I did have to fall over and getting back up … you guessed it … felt the pain in the back of the leg. OUCH!

So I made my way back stopping for glimpses of a beautiful meadow or a warmly lit cabin buried up to its eves. Rolling into the parking lot I had to hurt my leg just one last time by taking the Mukluk our for a spin. Knowing full well that I had pushed my luck with my leg far enough I finally relinquished the bikes while Norman popped the cap of a “Face Plant” beer. What the heck. My leg hurt so might as well get a buzz on.

Sipping some of Bayern’s finest we were able to reflect on our ride and really let the freezing arctic air sink in. It was a great night. After a while it was a full on shiver fest so we hopped into the van and put an end to a great night. It was my first fat tire snow bike. Thanks Chad.

Lessons from the Trail

Hey there, fellow mountain bikers and philosophers of the trail! Today, I want to share with you a little nugget of wisdom I’ve coined as the “Hug-Hold Test.” It’s a simple, yet profound concept that hit me like a gust of wind on a downhill sprint. It’s about understanding the depth of our connections, not just with people, but with our passions – like our beloved bikes.

The Hug-Hold Conundrum

Picture this: a hug is like that quick, friendly gesture we exchange with our buddies. It’s warm, reassuring, but brief. A hold, on the other hand, is deeper, more meaningful. It’s like when you’re descending a steep trail, and your hands are not just on the grips, they’re part of the bike. This idea got me thinking – do I hug or hold what’s important in my life?

My Eureka Moment with My Bike

So, last night, something amusing yet insightful happened. After recovering from a minor injury, I was ecstatic to be back on the trails. At the halfway point, while gearing up for the return journey, I found myself hugging my bike. Yep, you read that right. It wasn’t a “hold”, but a simple hug to acknowledge our reunion – a sign that said, “Yes, we’re still in this together.”

The Descent: A Metaphor for Life

The real test came during the descent. The trail was rough, like life’s unpredictable challenges. I found myself gripping the handlebars tightly, trying to control every movement. But here’s the kicker – the bike seemed to resist, almost like it was telling me, “Ease up, buddy!” And so I did. I loosened my grip, and suddenly, the ride smoothed out. The bike flowed with the terrain, and I was just there, experiencing it, rather than fighting it.

The Takeaway: Hug or Hold?

This experience was a lightbulb moment. Sometimes in life, like on the trail, we need to differentiate between a hug and a hold. We can’t force a hold when a hug is what’s needed. In my case, a gentle hug was perfect for my bike, while a firm hold was necessary for navigating the tricky parts of the trail.

But the real lesson here? It’s about knowing when to hold on and when to let go. On the trails and in life, trying to control everything leads to a bumpy ride. Sometimes, you just need to relax your grip, trust the process, and let life take you on its journey.

Wrapping It Up: Embrace the Hugs of Life

So, my fellow biking enthusiasts, next time you’re out there, think about the Hug-Hold Test. Are you trying too hard to control the ride, or are you flowing with it? Remember, life’s full of friends and experiences offering those much-needed hugs. Embrace them, and let the holds come naturally when they’re meant to be.

Resources for Further Reflection:

1. A great forum for discussing life philosophies and biking: www.mtbphilosophers.com
2. Tips on bike handling and control: www.bikecontroltips.org
3. A community for sharing biking stories and insights: www.trailtales.com

Keep riding and reflecting, folks! Until next time, embrace the hugs and holds of life, both on and off the trail. 🚵🌄🤗👐

I love waking up at my friends house in Bozeman. Sten is up early and has coffee brewing and is the only friend I have that wakes up in my universe. Usually I am faking sleep and just waiting around for everyone. This morning I slept until 7:30 which is sleeping in for me. What is most impressive is that I slept pretty well all night and my knee is feeling a lot better. Lately I have not been sleeping well and my knee has been hurting like hell.

How did the knee get hurt? Well let’s see … it all started on a Thursday Night. I was on a group hike with all my Missoula peeps and we were hitting University Mountain. Earlier that night I picked up my friends Jill and Norman. In the process of driving from Jill’s to Norman’s I got a little lost and ended up near Reserve street. Jill offered some directional advice but I went the dude route and “thought” I was going in the right direction. Note to self … listen to Jill next time.  I had to call Norm and get directions and it turns out Jill had the right instinct.

We pulled into the upper parking lot and provided the group our reasons for making them stand up there for 30 plus minutes. And then we were off. I knew this “jaunt” was going to be interesting because for the first time ever my GPS would not acquire a signal.  Soon I just gave up, started my heart rate monitor, and caught up with the group. My ulterior motives was to do as many 15 minute tempo efforts as possible.  So at times it was Josh and I pushing the pace and getting up the trail ahead of the others.

I got in three efforts and we topped out on top of University Mountain. Our group was 4 people short and the remaining 4 stood just out of the wind below the towers and chatted until we were all feeling chilled. We were headed back down when “it” happened.

We were pretty chatty  as we hiked down. Again Jill showed some great common sense and kept her headlamp on. The rest of us had our reasons for keeping our headlamp off.  Norman was practicing his nocturnal big game hunting skills. Josh was just doing what he thought was normal (The Thursday Night Group is migrating to a no headlamp group). Me, I am the one who started the no headlamp schema. Maybe I am trying to show off and convince everyone I am this super bat man type ultra endurance creature. In any case everyone found out that I am just this clumsy hiker that falls off snow shelves at night.

Everyone knows that being clumsy means you fall down a lot. You walk off of curbs a lot. You hit your head a lot. But hiking off a mountain without proper lighting just increases the chance for a clumsy person to do something stupid. For me I walked right off a shelf of snow and my leg extended to find purchase on some ground. The ground did not came fast enough and when it did the leg was in full extension with my body’s weight on top. My knee bent backwards and I felt two distinctive pops.

What does one do in this situation? Well for me I crawled on my side and whimpered like a baby. I slowly got to my good leg and tried to put my weight on it. It felt too weird and I was afraid to mess it up more. I feared the worst. The group fashioned multiple type of walking apparatuses and I settled upon this long staff that made me feel like Obi Wan Kenobi.  As the weirdness wore off I felt the pain. The leg hurt like shit and I just had to man up and walk out slowly. After all I drove everyone out there and Jill had to get ready for her trip to Hawaii the next day for a race.

Today my leg feels a lot better and I am hoping it will heal up just fine. one thing is for sure. I will utilize my headlamp more, specially on the downhill’s. I cant wait for mountain biking season.

I am looking out the window of City Brew towards Blue Mountain here in Missoula Montana. The big warm up has started and all things white are turning grey and lumpy. Soon the bare ground may appear. No big adventure awaits me today and I must save my injury story for another blog. This blog is about last weekend. Last weekend when it was a slight warm up but only into the 30s as apposed to the 50s of today. A weekend of getting out and adventuring. One blog has been posted and now I have save the best day for the second. Sunday I headed up to the 9 mile valley.

I was running late as per usual for me. I was looking to park just off the interstate in Soudan and then riding up the West Ninemile Creek Road. When I arrived, again way too late, there were signs everywhere NOT to park for extended periods of time. I mean really folks … if you want to attract business, and by that I mean tourists and recreationalists, would you want to accommodate people parking in your huge parking lot. I may have wanted a big burger after my ride.  So I drive up the East Ninemile Creek Road to the ranger station. I tried to drive up towards the interpretative center but got turned around by a lack of places for a VW Beetle to park. Finally I settled by parking on the bridge as the two roads, West and East, come together.

 

Now really late I began my ride North West right up the 9 Mile Valley. It was treacherous and icy but managed to make it 10 miles until the road turned to double track truck trail. In the summer this is a major dirt road. Right now it was near the end of vehicle traffic for the winter season. As I neared the end I found a parking area with about ten trucks parked and a group of people tending to a large bonfire.

“How far did you ride?”

“From the bridge where the pavement ends”

“Holy SHIT! Dude you should ride that thing up the snowmobile trail. It froze last night and it is good and solid. You could go for like 12 miles no problem.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Oh how I wished I had a snow bike. “Cool … I’ll try it on my skinny”, gesturing to my Leader mountain bike. Funny … I was calling my mountain bike a skinny when we all know skinny refers to a road bike.

 

I headed up the trail and at first it was easy going. Soon enough however I glanced down at my heart rate monitor and realized that I was going way to hard for today’s plan. I was only planning on 5 hours of light pedaling. I was now now hopped up on excitement and tempo-ing into the wilderness. I couldn’t go easy because my skinny tires were digging in just enough to provide friction against my dreams of winning the 2011 Iditarod invitational. So I had to abandon the race and go back to exploring the roads. I really need to get a fatty.

The place was beautiful in the winter and the snow way more abundant then even snowy Missoula. I popped back out at the group surrounding the big fire and announced that I got up to the second bridge.

“Way cool dude. Hey everyone this guy just rode THAT bike up past Big Blue”

“Well … I could of went all the way if I had a snow bike”, I added as they all gave my bike a quick glance. Shoot now I have to explain what I meant by “snow bike”. I was, however, with like minded souls and they seemed to understand. We were out here, far from a couch enjoying the wilderness. I left the group to continue my quest just as a sled flew over the road and into a field. A teen stood up and proclaimed that he had the new distance record. A part of me wanted to stay, hang out at the fire, and take my turn on the big hill. I knew I could beat that record.

 

Coming back down the valley I was flying at around 25 miles an hour on glare ice. The bad part of this fun ice cruise was that the wind chill started to creep into my many layers and soon I found myself gathering my fingers into the main compartment of my gloves in a fist to try and regain some feeling. I was making great time and realized I needed to explore some of the roads that branched off the main corridor or else I would return to the car without fulfilling my obligation to my plan of 5 hours.

I headed up Barrette Creek but found myself running into private property. On a topo map this route shows up as a possibility to travel up towards the back side of Stark Mountain but as with most places in Montana now it is lost to someone’s greed. The signs gave me a clear message that I was not welcome. I headed back to the main road.

Soon I found McCormick Creek Road to the East side but soon found the same private property style signs and had to turn around. I was getting pretty disgusted with all these signs in such great country to explore. I headed up Kennedy Creek … same thing.

 

Finally I found a road up Butler Creek and that kept going and going. This was looking promising as I passed a trail head that had lots of slider (skiers) tracks.  As I approached a intersection I was happy to have found a possible lengthy route but at the same time my body temperature was getting low. I glanced at my bike computer and saw that the temps were now in the single digits. Wow, no wonder. I headed up
the road to the left which petered out to private land after climbing 300 feet. I bombed back to the intersection and was feeling quite cold.

Just as I headed up the other road, which looking back was just a continuation of the road I was on, I realized that I had run out of time. And just like always I kept going until I got the familiar feeling that I was way to far out to get back to my car before I ran out of water and daylight.

In the end I made it back to the car even though it was later then I had hoped. But this is normal for me. I always try to find out what is around that next bend. I always find myself struggling in the dark to see. Always find myself so cold I can no longer hold onto the handlebars. I always step off the bike to discover I cant feel my legs. I always find myself with a huge grin from ear to ear as I head back home.

Movie Night and Mountain Biking: A Day of Contrasts

Today was a tale of two very different halves. The evening was all about relaxation – hosting a casual movie night with friends, whipping up some delicious, calorie-rich treats, and just kicking back. It was the perfect antidote to a day that, let’s just say, had my forehead in a permanent state of scrunch.

Now, about the day. The plan was simple: tackle the South Side Road with my trusty mountain bike. What I hadn’t anticipated was the road’s uncanny resemblance to a lopsided ice rink. Despite the treacherous conditions, the ride was undeniably scenic (as my GPS data can attest). Of course, appreciating the scenery was a luxury I could seldom afford, with my eyes mostly glued to the icy road, navigating through potential hazards and avoiding what looked like rows of shark teeth made of ice.

But hey, there’s always a silver lining. The ride opened my eyes to potential new routes, like the Albert Creek Road, which I suspect might even morph into a snowmobile trail. Definitely warrants a return trip, but preferably after we’re done with these thaw-and-freeze cycles. Ice is fun in a rink, not so much on a bike trail.

And would you believe it? All the photos from this adventurous day were snapped with my iPhone. Yep, left the camera at home. Classic me.

So there you have it – a day of intense concentration and icy challenges, followed by an evening of warmth, laughter, and good company. Life’s all about these contrasts, isn’t it? And on nights like these, I’m just grateful for the company and the comfort of my couch.

Resources to Enhance Your Day:

1. Mountain Biking Basics: Get tips on tackling challenging terrains and enjoying the ride.
2. Relaxing After a Big Day: Unwind with guided relaxation and meditation techniques.
3. Adventure Photography with Your Phone: Master the art of capturing stunning photos on your iPhone.
4. Home Entertainment Essentials: Upgrade your movie nights with the best in home entertainment tech.
5. Weather Patterns and Outdoor Activities: Stay ahead of the weather for safe and enjoyable outdoor adventures.

As 2011 unfolds, I find myself reflecting on the past year – a rollercoaster of fitness highs and lows. It’s like opening a report card: some areas bringing a smile, others… not so much.

Waking up each morning, my heart rate monitor greeted me. In 2010, my resting heart rate hovered around 40.18 bpm, slightly up from 40.11 bpm the previous year. A minor change, but for a fitness enthusiast, every little detail matters. October showed promise with an average of 38 bpm, but alas, the year didn’t end as hoped.

Then, there’s my response time to physical exertion. The rise from 25 to 28.78 seconds was a blow, far from my target of 22 seconds. However, my recovery time remained consistent at 69.42 seconds – a small victory in an otherwise challenging year.

My body composition, always a battleground, slipped from my control. Tipping the scales at 176.2 pounds, it’s the heaviest I’ve been since 2006. My body fat edged up from 8.72% to 9.59%, and hydration levels dropped, underscoring the need for more discipline.

Sleep, the unsung hero of fitness, also took a hit. From an average of 6.71 hours in 2009 to just 6.61 hours in 2010, it’s clear I need more shut-eye for optimal performance.

Exercise-wise, it’s a mixed bag. I smashed my workout record with an astonishing 968 hours in 2010, compared to 787 hours the previous year. Yet, my cycling mileage didn’t follow suit, decreasing from 6,343 to 5,735 miles. Surprisingly, skiing didn’t fill the gap either, with zero miles logged. On a brighter note, I hit a new high in running, covering 418 miles.

Vertical gains also saw a downturn. Climbing 563,917 feet in 2010 pales in comparison to the 669,635 feet in 2009. Is my mountain spirit waning?

Despite these setbacks, my heart rate during workouts showed an increase, averaging 112 bpm, up from 106 bpm last year. And my max heart rate average hit a new peak at 152.58 bpm, proof that I pushed harder than ever.

In conclusion, while 2010 had its disappointments, it also had its triumphs. It’s clear I have ample room for growth and improvement. This year, I’m more determined than ever to surpass my limits and redefine my fitness boundaries.

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Resources to Enhance Your Day:

1. Heart Rate Training Guide – Understand the nuances of heart rate training.
2. Sleep and Athletic Performance – Learn how sleep impacts your fitness goals.
3. Healthy Eating for Athletes – Nutrition tips to fuel your fitness journey.
4. Cycling Training Plans – Optimizing your bike training for better results.
5. Running Improvement Techniques – Elevate your running game with these expert tips.

When Life Throws Curveballs: Finding Strength in the Struggle

Life can hit hard, sometimes in the most unexpected ways. Imagine being so sick that the thought of going to the hospital crosses your mind. That’s a tough start, but sometimes, it gets tougher. You recover, only to face a new challenge – your home floods with sewer water, a disaster in itself. This is more than just a physical ailment; it’s a crisis that uproots your life. You’re forced out of your home with just a 30-day notice, leaving you almost homeless【8†source】.

But the story doesn’t end there. Amidst this chaos, you face yet another blow, this time, an emotional one. It’s the kind of emotional disaster that leaves you sitting in a coffee shop, heartbroken and without a place to call home. It’s a moment where everything you knew seems to crumble around you [❞].

However, there’s a twist in this tale. Despite the weariness, the brokenness, and the sheer force of life’s challenges, you find a silver lining. This process of breaking down and rebuilding is not new to you. In fact, it’s something you thrive on. It’s how you train for endurance races, pushing your body to the limit for 24 hours non-stop. This cycle of destruction and reconstruction is part of your journey, your way of preparing to go longer and faster. It’s a testament to your resilience and passion [❞].

This story isn’t just about the hardships of life; it’s about the strength and endurance you gain from them. It’s about embracing the rebuild, seeing opportunities in the face of adversity, and finding joy in the journey of recovery. You are weary, but there’s a good feeling that comes with it. It’s the feeling of being on the verge of rebuilding, of starting anew with the lessons learned and the strength gained from each setback.

Remember, every challenge is an opportunity to grow stronger, to push your limits, and to rediscover what you’re truly capable of. Embrace the rebuild, for it is in this process that you find your true strength and resilience.

Here are some resources to enhance your day and support your journey of rebuilding and resilience:

1. Resilience Training: Explore courses and resources on building resilience to help you bounce back from life’s challenges. Psychology Today’s Resilience Center
2. Homelessness Support: Access resources and support for individuals facing homelessness. National Alliance to End Homelessness
3. Emotional Wellness Guides: Dive into articles and guidance for emotional healing and wellness. Mindful’s Emotional Wellness
4. Endurance Training Tips: Discover strategies and tips for endurance training, especially useful for those looking to participate in long-duration races. Runner’s World Endurance Training
5. Life Rebuilding Strategies: A collection of strategies and stories to inspire and guide you in rebuilding your life during tough times. Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Rebuilding Your Life

These resources offer a mix of practical advice, emotional support, and inspirational stories to help you navigate through tough times and come out stronger.