For 3 days I have been wondering how we were going to fare climbing up to Indian Ridge which starts at Beacon Point at a little over 10,000 feet. “They,” say, a pack over 30 pounds is not good for extended backpacking trips. Try for ultralight 25-pound loads. Mine was around the mid-40s. Mo’s was around 25 and she fared well. I did too but really if I had the choice I would go as light s possible. I was REAL happy to make it up to Beacon Point, even with a little scrambling. I thought that the day would be a piece of cake from there. But the hike down Indian Ridge, in the end, turned out to be the brutal part. Maybe because of length, don’t know, but was really glad to reach Arrow Lake. Funny how when one is exhausted they have enough energy to put up camp and still play around the rest of the evening. Usually normal days back at home, after a day of work, I blackout on the couch. Interesting.
Day 3 sunrise
Sunrise over North Fork Creek
Leaving Thompson Lake below
Beacon Point at 10,224 feet
Finally topping out on Beacon Point
Wide open
Mo looking for a long overdue break
Beacon Point with Gallatin Peak to the left
Indian Ridge
I love ridges
Leaving the past looking into the future
Coming off of Beacon Point hiking down Indian Ridge
Grayling Rocks complete with Mountain Goats
After multiple hours of hiking the ridge we were looking forward to our next camp spot
Thompson Lake sits at about 8,000 feet. A day off at 8,000 feet is a great idea. And to explore the surroundings. Some elements to note were White Bark Pine and Mountain Goats on the side of Gallatin Peak. And then there is an after dinner hike up 1,000 feet to some lakes with the name Chilled. Obviously, since they are still frozen in the middle of summer. Right? A breath of fresh air. All our life elements were left behind. Jobs and society. Forgotten in the cool mountain air. After a nap a bark-surf back to camp on a snow field. We need to make this our life. Simple.
In case you are wondering. Day 1 will not be posted because it was just a boring hike up an alpine valley in order to camp at the base of a climb to Thompson Lake. I never even took any images. I think we all know why too. I mean the reason day 1 is missing. After we get used to working. Brain-numbing soul-crushing work where we are reduced to a brain-dead state. It takes a day or two to come out of the post work blues. Once you do everything becomes worth taking note.
Takin er easy for all you sinners
First night’s camp
Packing up camp after night number one.
Solitude Creek
Hiking on day 2
Arduous hike over the last pass
Mirror Lake
Mo hiking towards an eventual walk in snow.
A chilly creek crossing
After a snack we left Mirror Lake
South Fork Spanish Creek
The trail alongside the South Fork of Spanish Creek
Gallatin Peak
South Fork of Spanish Creek with Gallatin Peak in the distance.
One of our best adventures this summer was an epic ride around Ross Peak. This entailed climbing up and over Sacajawea Pass from Fairy Lake. Then we traversed the Bridge Foothills Trail. Once around Ross Peak, we headed back via some sweet single and double track to Fairy Lake.
Mo pushes some roots.
Attacking the climb.
After some brief rooty and muddy sections we approached another big obstacle … snow.
Pushing up the big snowbank.
Snuggles coming down Sacajawea Pass
Bill heading down the trail from Sacagawea Pass.
Looking back up towards Sacajawea Pass.
Making a move around a pedal banger.
Some technical switchbacks.
The trail to Ross Pass
The view from Sacagawea Pass.
Mo descends.
Ross Peak
Approaching the intersection to head back up to Fairy Lake.
So tomorrow we travel to Bozeman to prepare a trip the next day to Missoula. We then return to Bozeman and the next day to Mammoth. Then we have to pack for a move into position to hang in Bozeman to start selling stuff. Holy cow!
The saddle looking down Fox Creek
So coffees on the stovetop here, with the electric bialetti tomorrow, and then on an MSR Reactor stove somewhere in the Rattlesnake.
From the saddle
Out in the natural world as we adventure on our bikes and find places to camp out this kind of behavior is preferred. Moving around. A new campsite every night. Exciting new changes. So why then is all this traveling on highways and sleeping in different spots exciting? Well … I guess it is a little. But at least we always make coffee the same way.
Why ride around with enduro gear? Be enduro bra! A full-face helmet, pads, and body armor? Safety, that’s why. Scardy cats would ride around with full gear.
This bear is so enduro
And why do we rent or even own homes? House with a picket fence and a puppy bouncing around in the backyard? Well, why not get rid of our homes and go vagabond bra? Vagabond is not for scaredy cats. It really scares me to move out of our rental and out on the streets.
Snuggles sipping coffee
Security blankets or no security blankets? One is comfy and the other is scary. But the initial question is why do I go on rides with nothing but a pair of shorts and a roller derby lid? Not that there is anything wrong with derby. Is riding with Snuggles really that dangerous? Some say there is always a chance that I could fall off my bike and hit my head. Well … isn’t it also possible to be eaten by a grizzly bear? Hey living in the Park makes that a possibility. If I rode around totally safe I would probably not do it at all.
Dropping in
Being poor is also what scares me. Not being able to afford a new wheelset. Or be able to do Enduro races because they are too expensive. But do I really need STUFF? I don’t want to get too sketchy and not have the gear or good food. There has to be a line. Adventure on a bike is our life. Still … being poor will be scary.
Mo glides above Arrow Root
Quitting jobs and going with our passion is super scary. Seems like a no-brainer but it is so scary for me to quit working for others and contribute in another way. I am 51 and been getting screwed for so long. It seems normal.
Mo rocks the Arrow Leaf
So then why do I escape the safety nets every weekend? Well, I guess I really do like being scared a little. Racing Enduro … but with the proper gear. Still scary though. And adventuring into place that is nothing but unsafe. Leaving home and all our stuff. I guess we really don’t need a home or stuff. Every weekend we don’t have jobs. Maybe I can live without a job. Some will say you need a job to get money to buy a house and be able to eat. Really?
I guess if I were to choose I would pick new adventures. When I go alone or with my adventure partner snuggles it is preferably doing something we have not done before. Don’t misunderstand though, I love a good bike park where I can rage down the same trail until I completely nail it. But is that real adventure?
Snuggles has had enough
Problem is when you live in an area for a little while you want to hit up your favorites. The issue is that we cant motivate to do them. Just doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. Doesn’t feel like a true adventure. So we eventually find something we haven’t done.
The group climbing Leverich
This is where group rides come into play. I do all the yearly standards but with a group. The dynamic of groups is such that every ride is new. New people and new conversations. Sharing what we have done and just doing this old favorite together.
Shuttle
We just love new adventures. The true adventure is something new. New experiences … alone or with others.
I miss Missoula. Smooth trails that one can ride and dream at the same time. Here I am out of that element. I am not saying I don’t like being out of a comfortable setting. In fact, I would like to campaign for challenging oneself and stepping out of comfort once in a while. And this morning I am concentrating. Concentration makes one feel alive, doesn’t it? This morning the trail is rooty and slippery. A slip of concentration could mean a trip off the trail.
The contrasts are what make life exciting
This morning I woke up to a snow storm. By all means, there was enough qualifying data to suggest staying indoors. Instead, I decided to put my 29er downhill tires to test. These babies are supposed to stick to wet roots and have great grip in the mud. Time to see if that was true.
Keeping the focus through harsh conditions
One learns so much when being in unfamiliar terrain. Like goggles. Some people don’t wear them because they are not fashionable or they just don’t fit right. No one wants to look out through a fishbowl. But I have found that wet limbs and debris can smash a pair of fancy sunglasses into one’s skull. And I have learned that crashing at Enduro races usually involves flying handlebars and rocks. Goggles I have learned, are my friend.
Sometimes a good design is thinking out of the box
Why ramble about getting out of the comfort zone and learning new stuff? Discovering the true meaning of assumptions? I don’t know. Just that moving to Mammoth in YNP is just that. Some people find that holes in the walls are a bit disconcerting. For us, we can tell when the wind is blowing and at what velocity. And that one can’t just slip around a corner in a trail unless you want to find issues with big animals. Take precautions and be open. Be aware and be alive. A good life may just be leaving comfort and certainty behind.
And so in trying to catch up on my blogging, I am about to discuss my second Enduro. Oh, yea and trying to connect last June to now (late September) to prove that life is the same parallel. As in “not my first rodeo”. Get it? Like not the first time I am trying something new. Not new being scared. The unknown … AGAIN. The feeling of “Oh shit, what am I doing” … AGAIN.
Top of stage 1
So Enduro to me is enticing because it is the rock climbing of mountain biking. You study a route and then try to execute it. Combine that with group rides. It is NOT a physical fitness race. But then everyone wants to bomb the downhill. With bragging rights once everyone congeals at the bottom. A major change from a fitness competition which I am so used to. You mean the first one to finish today is not the winner? Wow!
Hanging out with friends discussing our runs
Today, late September, I have to have issues with the way our society is set up. To trap us into thinking we are free and we have choices. Working for someone else and then giving all that money to another person. In return, we get tiny releases of emotional happiness. But then it fades and we go back to work to earn some more. Not freedom! In the end, we do have a choice and now we need to choose another path. We as in Snuggles and I. Time for change. You mean the one that earns the most money does not win? Wow!
The Masters podium
My second enduro was even more awesome than the first. And I won, which is a bonus. But that isn’t what this post about. This is a new genre for me. With some familiar elements. Camping and hanging with like-minded folks. Actually, it reminded me of the good old days. What? I need an entirely different bike? Cool!
Rise and shine, race starts soon
The first change this week is that I am pursuing being able to have a job where I am more flexible. Not just a butt in the seat job. One where I can work out of a transit hut in Yellowstone Park. And I am close to getting that. You mean I can work surround by nature? Cool!
And I am off for another stage
This was my second race using new pads. Elbow, knee, and goggles. I have started to feel like a stormtrooper. After this race, I would go on to include a full face helmet and back protection. Maybe a sign that this is dangerous. Well isn’t life all about living? Hell yea.
I think I was mentioning how much fun this was.
People think they have to work to afford the house, car, insurance, and all life’s safety gear. Excuse me … I can live without a house. What do you think we do on the weekends? I mean if we are escaping all of the life’s necessities or safety nets every weekend then doesn’t it seem like life would be more fun without all that ownership? Hell yea.
Bitterroot
In my second enduro race, I wondered to myself, “where has this sport been all my life”. But then I always say that when I try something new. Does change bring about more adventure and is that why sometimes we find more pleasure? Maybe.
Camp
My goal in the near future is to make a drastic change. Sell everything off except what we can haul in an Element. Toning down ownership. Basically, what we do every weekend now. Just going full-time with the vagabond idea. Big changes true, but won’t it just bring more adventure? Maybe.
Final stage start
So this new sport IS a big change. From a single all-out effort to an all-day adventure. Instead of weekend camping to an all year camping adventure.
The final sprint to the finish
The transition was not complete by my second race. No, it took all summer. Ending with a race in Big Sky with new skills and equipment. I had to learn along the way with the help of friends and patience. The second race in Lolo was just the beginning and one thing was for sure. I became committed. And now committed to moving out of a societal “roof over our heads” to a nomad life. First things first … like selling everything off. It’s going to take a while. I THINK we are committed.
I wonder if anyone has ever seen something coming for a while but just procrastinated the time away until that something comes along. Like someone gives you evidence that the earth is warming and that eventually, we lose all our high altitude environments. Maybe that is a bad example because it is becoming true and really … we DID see it coming.
But why doesn’t anyone do anything about it? I guess I don’t feel too bad now. I have to say that Mo and I have been discussing ideas. I just haven’t done anything about it. Since I have learned of the impending doom I have thought about it. About not working for anyone any longer. About needing to just do my passion and say fuck off to employers.
Since I have learned of this impending doom I have come to the conclusion that I do not want to work for anyone any longer. I want to just say piss off to employers and employment in general. Well, impending doom has happened. So now I must plan a way out or just become part of the problem. We got a couple scary ideas.
How about an adventure company out of Butte Montana that provides guiding and shuttles to some kick ass trails. Maybe the same idea but at Big Sky … or near here but not in Bozeman? Mostly myself doing all the hustle.
Or maybe Mo could be the main hustler. What about starting a media company? Maybe I could provide the adventure. Travel around consult, live off of sponsors, and paid content?
The transition to the new bike was harder than I imagined. I would throw a leg over the most magical bike in the world and it would take me away to the most exotic places on wings of speed… Instead, I couldn’t keep it on the trail and I had no feedback from planet earth. And there was the insane weight. Brand new it was 32 pounds but I got it down to 27 with a 29er set of carbon cross country wheels. When the dust settled, however, I received a new mindset. I had to give up on lightweight race rigs. My skills changed from over the bar crashes to off the back crashes. Once I was keeping it straight and started to carve corners I experienced an identity crisis. I remember taking a rest break and just sitting on a log across from my bike.
My 27.5+ setup
I was alone so talking to it was no big deal. Look at you. So beefy and aggressive. I could just huck off a drop and you wouldn’t bat a pedal. You’re ready for a 24-hour race or a backcountry adventure. I wonder if you could fat bike in the winter. As my mind considered the possibilities of the bike now called Cruzie, it spoke out. It spoke in the language of consciousness and to be honest maybe I am a little off my rocker.
… “I am enduro” …
Heck, why not? Why not try an enduro race. I finally have a capable machine. It was settled, the Helenduro would be my curious inspection of enduro. At the very least I would do this one race and chalk it up to another adventure. And I always dreamed of doing downhill racing. Yes, secretly I really have.
I was so lost. I signed up and was uncomfortable from the get-go. I am used to lots of information. Like a schedule and a description of a course. Hell, no pun intended, I had to plan out the race … right? Come to find out it is very low-key and the kicker is that no details are posted until a day or so before the race. So mysterious.
And what is a “practice day”? You mean some of these races included camping out and practicing? So it’s not just a day event? Holy shit … so cool. Well, I could just show up and race I suppose. But I wanted to see what I was up against.
I was up against a test of skills for sure and when I showed up ULTRA EARLY on Sunday I was a bit nervous. I didn’t know the program and really this was my first official and real bike ride on the new machine.
Top of stage 1
“OK good luck everyone … go”, the race director said from inside The Garage. I thought to myself, OK, now what? Where is the course? I mean I knew the course but it was a long way away. Off to the bike shuttle. Then I followed what seemed to be a group ride to the top of the first stage. And then just if there were any competitive juices left it was drained away by sitting around and chatting for like seemed to be an hour until the start marshall got to the scene.
The honeymoon was over on the last stage where I encountered the roughest terrain yet. I was out of control and it was intensely scary. If anything would go wrong I could be paralyzed for life. This was not snuggles(Mo) approved! I barely was able to hang on and finish out the day. And, I might add, with the biggest grin I have had in a while.
I got 3rd
Enduro … shit … a big group adventure ride. Hanging out with new friends and challenging myself to terrain I have never had the bike to ride before. Damn this was cool! I signed up for the Lolo Enduro as soon as I got home.
My partner went away for the weekend and my mind went into plan mode. Where could I go and what should I do? It had to be something that normally she would not do with me. Bivvy out? Multi-day ride trying to cover a big distance. At this time I didn’t even know enduro existed; otherwise, I would have booked two days at Big Sky to do some downhill.
Well, it was spring. And I had not done Little Bear Cabin yet. It was not a bivvy, but at this time of the year, the snow was still low. We have done this one together previously and it was a little hard. How much worse could it be? I needed to keep my mind off the new bike and its possibilities. One last fat bike pack.
I got going a little late so I knew the snow would be soft. Last year was a slog but I managed to ride most of it. After two hours of spinning along, I stopped for a water break and to text my partner. Mostly to let her know how fantastic my adventure was and to spark some jealousy. How dare she find something better to do and leave me to my own devices. I was going to have the greatest adventure for f^%$’s sake.
The first time I got off I figured it would be for just a little while. When I get to another aspect I could ride again. The spirits were high. The new bike at home was the farthest thing from my mind. Wow! is that bear prints I am following? Freaking cool!
After quickly taking an image and posting to Instagram I set forth. Then an hour went by and wow was the soft wet snow hard pushing through. My heart rate now going up past where I was comfortable another hour ticked by. Then another hour … and another.
By the time I reached the cabin it was getting dark and I was so exhausted that I didn’t feel like I really wanted to be adventuring any longer. I definitely was not posting messages to Snuggles how fun it was. Why was I doing this shit instead of mountain biking with my new ride? Why? I ate dinner, started a fire, and dozed off without even taking my bag off the bike.
When I woke up I packed up as fast as I could. This adventure was over and I had to get on the snow before it got warm. Problem was, it was already warm out. And it did not cool down much overnight.
By the time I started finding patches of ground I could kiss and try and ride, it started to rain. Really? Rain? F this.
Eventually, I got out. Back in the valley, there was no time to rest much less to start having a great time again. I had to outrun an impending downpour. It chased me all the way home. About a mile out it unleashed its torrent upon me. It was then I made my pledge. This was the last ride on snow I would do this year. I hated it. I wanted to ride on dirt. And … I was reading about how my new bike was designed for Enduro. That had to be better than this … right? It would be the ultimate break from bike packing gone wrong. I mean it is the opposite, correct? How hard could it be?
OK, so there is only so much time every day … or in life. Much like our attempt back in April when we attempted to get to Window Rock Cabin. There is stuff I used to do all the time without much difficulty. Like blog almost every day. Or just ride our bikes up to Window rock and stay the night. Every day I look forward to blogging and think about what I want to express. Seems doable. So did the cabin.
At the intersection, all looked OK.
But I forget about my rehab exercises and all the stuff I need to do to make a comeback as an old dude. And I forget about my sudden obsession with Enduro. In April I forgot … well … it was still April.
Our turn around point … well, I had gone a mile or two a little further and the snow was 6 inches deeper.
Eventually, we turned around and called it all off. And eventually every day I call off the blog post.
It has been that long since my last post. I guess things got busy. And I had to repair myself. It’s been 3 months … maybe more.
Morning sunlight
After the long journey into why I feel dizzy I am close to a verdict. My brain is healthy and I even have repaired the un-repairable … my inner ear. Perfectly fine now. My vestibular is spectacular. No evidence of concussions although I know we cant really tell unless we do a biopsy. Not recommended because you have to be dead.
Morning sun
I have been doing exercises to fix the back injuries sustained last fall. That is going well. I can sit in a car a long time and riding a bike is no problem. All good. So why the dizzies and headaches?
Picture is worth a million trails
All tests point to migraines … but why? We have found that in the past I fractured my neck. And that I had no medical care so it just healed itself. I can avoid the migraine triggers until I fix my neck. Found the bow bow. So until we get my neck repaired naturally with stretch, exercise, and strengthening I will avoid cheese, processed meat, wine, beer, gluten, and nuts. Getting closer!
Last week I nearly had 1 or 2 mental breakdowns due to winter weather. The last one resulted in me tossing 200 bucks into the garbage and hiding in the shower for three hours. They found me weeping in the bottom of the shower that had turned cold.
Is this a dream
Some people think that I love winter. I love riding my fat bike; well, yea. Following any of my social media outlets certainly can confirm it. But if you really know me you will find out that it is not really that simple. I find winter beautiful. I love taking photos of colorless landscapes. The sheer beauty of it all. And I love a good snowfall making everything pristine and flocked. Winter can really make the mountains look more majestic then in the summer months. I mean, really, it is really freaking gorgeous in the winter in the mountains.
The cabin front yard
Let’s be certain, I dont like the cold. I really like surviving the challenge of it. To survive a bike ride when it is negative 40 is really challenging. But I like the challenge and not the thing that I am up against. It’s like saying that you love sitting around a bunch of hungry grizzly bears. I mean it is a challenge to stay alive but certainly not very relaxing. Winter can be relaxing with its long nights and who dosen’t love sleeping? But without modern living it would be purely hell.
Sipping some brew
And there lies the crux of my situation. I don’t love winter. I only endure it. It takes a lot of clothing and being sheltered. What I do love is being outside. Naturally. Just laying around in the sun and going on rides without suiting up like you are going to the moon. Summer is really living. It is fun. It is what I like. I don’t like winter. As much as it looks like I do … I don’t.
Fresh and clear views
Winter is like a life enduro where you survive the transfer just to enjoy the downhill. When will I get to ride my real bike? When?
Maybe it is all the snow and the inability to do a REAL bike ride. You know … on the dirt. Right? But then again I love fat biking. So I am not blaming snow and cold. But this week I have had two metal breakdowns. I am fed up with something.
A fresh couple inches fell last night
So I always get the lightest equipment that will stand up to my punishment. Why, because I am stuck in the cross country strength to weight ratio rut. No more! I have spent more money on light-weight parts failures then I have on healthcare. And to top it off this shit is more expensive. I have wasted most of my life with this concept. I call total bullshit on that paradigm. Light crap ends in mental breakdowns.
Thats fresh powder biking in case you did not notice
Everyone is sick of snow right now, but I know some of my best times have been peddling along with a heavy fat bike into fresh powder adventures. It’s not the snow. It is the short summer and the failed precious days due to light bike part failures. So that is it. I am sick of light part failures. Why would someone pay a hundred dollars for the so called best tires and then end up walking when they fail. And slog home in the wet snow because they fail and fail again? I am setting a brand new set of … 500 gram … Schwalbe tires on the curb tonight. HashTag rip-off! I am turning my back on weight weenie crap and the people that still believe in it. I want to reform. I will start by ordering a set of heavy, more economical, durable, and fun … 900 gram … options.
Boneshakerbike 