Author: Bill

  • Paria Canyon, Into The Light

    Paria Canyon, Into The Light

    I just remembered something that I read once. Not exactly as it was written, but as I understood it. Or misunderstood. To heal from something maybe it is not as much as focusing on what is wrong but training your attention on the things that are right. Key word, heal.

    As we left camp I totally forgot all my ills and found myself immersed in all the things that were right. The sun rise for one. Spending time in a canyon makes you worship every bit of sunshine you can find. For me it is rejuvenating and warm. I like warm. But one thing I was surprised by was the way the sunlight would sculpt visual displays bursting with color.

    Reflections in the river and warm hues across the colorful canyon walls … even the reflection of rocks on other rocks. As curtains drew back with every mile the sun was putting on a display of cool presentations of light. Never to be the same at any angle or time of day. Always changing.

    Maybe life is that way. Just a matter of how one looks at it I suppose. For me … on this day … my back was not injured as much as everything was just right in the world.

  • Paria Canyon, The Morning After

    Paria Canyon, The Morning After

    The ongoing saga of the hurty-back trip. Well that is what I called it. Looking at the photos one would think it was a outstanding adventure of a lifetime in Paria Canyon.

    I did not sleep after the long haul into the canyon. Well maybe I did but not much. I needed to be turned like a fried egg on a skillet. And Mo just wanted her sleep. I didn’t blame her. She hauled all our shit into the canyon last night. At one point that night I almost suffocated because upon attempting a spin around and then getting paralyzed in pain I found myself face against the side of the tent without arms. I could’t move. I stuck my tongue out to keep the tent wall away from my airway. And to keep breathing.

    Upon waking I took no time crawling to the stove to make coffee. With fresh bean juice in my system and a handful of fish oil I could stand. We explored camp as the sun finally beamed down into the canyon and warmed our spirits. And I forgot all the pain. Wow! It was a outstanding adventure of a lifetime in Paria Canyon.

  • Paria Canyon, Reaching Further

    Paria Canyon, Reaching Further

    Our friends had turned around and Mo reluctantly agreed to go for camp 1, a mile or so after the Buckskin Gulch intersection. I figured we were almost there. Well, never just figure that yo are almost there. We were not almost there. It got darker and darker. For me this was my first canyon. The water got deeper and the walls closed in. It kind of gets spooky in there when night comes. Finally using our headlamps we found the little oasis that we would call home for two nights. I can’t remember the rest. I think Mo set up camp and stuffed me into the tent. Maybe even fed me … don’t know.

  • Paria Canyon, Why Not

    Paria Canyon, Why Not

    So I got up and tested a backpack. It was assumed I would try and then I could wave good bye to my friends as they headed out for an adventure. My plan was to just lay around camp and sleep. I couldn’t sleep since the accident that injured my back.

    The pack was heavy enough to duplicate what we would carry if I did not get hurt and we continued our plan to fulfill the back-country permits in Paria Canyon. I launched it from the picnic table. I hefted it on and disguised my grimace with a smile. Interestingly enough when I cinched it down it felt better then if I didn’t have anything on my back at all. It was like this big heavy back brace. Cool, let go hiking.

    I felt bad Mo was going to carry all the supplies … almost as much as her own body weight. I left with my friends all starring at me for just a hint of pain. They would force me to bail. I showed no such thing. Why not backpack with a injury?

  • Which Wolf Do You Feed?

    Which Wolf Do You Feed?

    I may have the details wrong but the message is the dame. An indigenous person once told his grandson that he had a huge battle inside him. And that it was between two wolves. One was full of gratitude, love, and kindness. The other full of hate, resentfulness, and sorrow.

    “Which on do you think will win grandpa?”

    “The one I feed grandson.”

    I am grateful to have experienced the desert with my partner and friends. Specially after the accident. They wondered why I endured the pain instead of just resting in a motel bed at Saint George. But to me I would rather be in pain in a beautiful place then in a boring place.

    Looking back it was so much good memory. I loved the trip. And I feel I should be more kind to myself now that I am back.

    So I bought myself a new mountain bike.

  • The Frog Hollow Account

    The Frog Hollow Account

    I am finally feeling a tad better. Although there are times I can’t move or roll over. And finally I am feeling like blogging again. A lot of things piled up since the Frog Hollow Race. With it taking me all day just to get around I haven’t found extra time to write. It is true I am biking more and more again but biking has always been manageable. It is when I step off the bike or try to rest that I feel pain. That and every god damned bump I hit. Did I mention that I am getting a full suspension bike next year. Have to.

    So we did make it to the 2016 Frog Hollow. And we did get off to a great start. By nightfall we both felt like we needed to investigate full suspension bikes. I forgot how rough and demanding the course could be. It was near midnight and I was starting to come into my own in the dark. I knew Mo had two more laps in her before she would unleash me to attack and do multiple laps while she slept. I couldn’t wait.

    Half way around the course there is this transition section where the trail takes a hard left. Kind of a long sweeper that tightens up at the end. Previous years past I would eventually tap the brakes to avoid overshooting the turn and hitting a big rock. But this year I was elated to be able to rip the corner at full speed. Gotta love the 27.5+ bike. Again as I approached the corner I grinned and dived into it full-bore. Fade to black.

    Sometimes something happens so fast that the brain must black out while it catches up. By the time my mind caught up to what was happening the face plate bolts of my stem were piercing my abs. But I was still not conscious to as what was happening. A little bit later my mind finally caught up enough to turn on some vision and all the sound.

    While the sounds of gravel were scrapping across my helmet I knew that I was crashing and that I was apparently upside down.  And doing a break dance move I have seen in some 80’s flicks. I became aware that there was some speed involved and that I needed to wait until the crash was over.  I feared the worse.

    Suddenly it all stopped with my back slamming full force into the trail. It felt like I was dropped out of a helicopter. And then everything went silent. No more crashing sounds of gravel and knobs burning flesh. All there was now was myself moaning and trying to catch my breath.

    After some time I rolled over and slowly got to my feet. I tested all appendages and it all worked. I mean there was immense pain but it was working. So nothing broken, right? Just some really bad bruises maybe and some pulled muscles hopefully. So I needed to get back to the start line. But where is my bike?

    I finally found it behind some sagebrush. I just followed the crash site indicators and did some quick physics to determine where my bike may have gone. I grabbed it and tried to prepare to pedal. Get leg over. Brace against the pain. Put one foot on a pedal and step down. Didn’t work. No seat.

    So I did find my seat and it’s post about 90 degrees from the crash site and the final resting place of the bike. I had no time to sit and figure out how that magic trick happened. I restarted the ride strategy. Get leg over, brace, push.

    I pulled over within 20 feet. The handlebars were crooked.  Fixed!  I was off again. It was painful. So painful the lap was actually going by fast. Just a lot of pain. I was amazed I could still ride. I knew if I got back and recovered while Mo was out … all things were still possible. But all the pain … did not know what to do with that.

    On a downhill I lost control and crashed into some rocks. I really was not all there. As I hit those rocks I thought to myself and wondered why it was so hard to keep the front wheel straight. I kept leaving the trail and hitting rocks. Finally with the latest crash I stopped to assess. Well there you go! Front tire was flat. I was riding a flat tire. I just need to fix it.

    Fixing the tire took time. It was like 30 minutes before I finally got it. As time wore on the more my back was getting stiff. I reached back and found my left side to be swollen and basically … well … not like a back at all. More like I swallowed a beach ball.

    I got to the finish line and did my best to send Mo along on her next lap.  Just when I thought she had left I slipped out of the timing tent and then realized I needed to find help. Someone was there immediately. Got me back to camp and as I waited while she prepared a place for me to try to lay down I realized it was Mo. I tried to understand why she was here and not out on her lap.

    I woke up on my side and wanted to leave the tent. To go pee. When I went to move all the memories came back. But I did manage to get up and walk to the port-a-potties. On the way back I started to prepare my bike. I would never be able to ride with this pain but I could walk a lap … god damn it!

    I went to the tent and asked Mo where our baton (a hand off thing that teams use) was.

    “I handed it in … and told them to never give it back to you …. so just go back to bed”, she said, rolled over, and drifted back to sleep.

  • 2016 Frog Hollow Tracking

    2016 Frog Hollow Tracking

    We are team MoBill as in Mobile … on the move … get it. Cheesy of course and in the Duo CoEd division. (Note: The live tracking tab shows once the race starts) Official Tracking Web Site Here!

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  • Going Back to Frog Hollow

    Going Back to Frog Hollow

    Gosh how we develop routines or the more comfy term ‘traditions’. Like our Thanksgivings at Twin lakes … 5 going on 6 now. One of my favorite places to go race is Frog Hollow and in the beginning it seemed it would become routine. it is in the desert and warm. #2 One last time to ride my bike as much as I want to close out the mountain bike season. And #3 I used to have good luck at that venue. And it seemed that that would of been a good tradition … to go to Utah every fall for a big mountain bike blowout. I have come up short though, missing out in 2012 and not since the BIG FAIL in 2013. Let’s see:

    2010 (Showdown in Frogtown ) was the first time I had been to Utah. I was hooked at beautiful sunrise on Zion. I had a blast racing with my friend Jill who raced on team Swiss Miss with Beat. They also doubled as my pit crew. Good times and one of my best memories. Long drive …well, yea. The drive back to Missoula was a bit of a task but who else would take Jill’s bike back home?

    2011 a come from behind victory in my second year to impress my now partner Mo. This is when I discovered she had a knack for pit crewing as she is probably the worlds best investigative agent. I knew who was hurting and when they were hurting. I knew where I was and had all the intelligence at my fingertips. Did I mention she also helped Jill take on her solo race too. Being a sounding board to ideas like … “I think I will have tuna and a Pepsi”, to which Mo’s reaction was, “Is that really such a good idea”. Turns out NOT.

    2013 did not end so well  although the days after the race were epic. But that race ended so badly and with so many misfortunes I just never went back. I just remember walking through cactus and sage in the middle of the night for hours with exploded rear wheels and ripped sidewalls. My friend Jill, now in her 4th consecutive year, still hanging onto traditions, was even having a bad race including a bloody knee lap. Just a bad year all around. Still though we all  left with smiles. Such a great event.

    So even though it is not tradition it it something that I always look back on with a warm smile. All the laps and nights of the frog hollow. I cant wait to go back. We leave this Thursday.

  • Seasonal Exposure

    Seasonal Exposure

    We have been out training our ass(s) to be more durable for the 8th Annual 25 Hours in Frog Hollow. And thus exposing ourselves to the changing of the season. Or changing of the guards as you will. From green life on the summer landscapes to death and decay. The horrid advancement of complete frozen death. Black and white. Good and Evil battling to take your life and freeze you to death. Brrr … right?  I can’t wait.

  • Mountains

    Mountains

    Mountains are cool. No, not as in sold. They are rad! They hang out with giants and they tip their toes in ice cold streams. And their views …. well … sheyaaa …o/o

  • Flanders Lake

    Flanders Lake

    Flanders Lake … a hidden gem. Well not hidden really. One can get to it quite easily. Just that there is no ‘official’ trail on a map and thus can be overlooked.

    We are with snow now and it was just last week we were discovering new parts of the world like Flanders Lake. And that bums me out, the snow that is. Why, well because if we can not go high then we are left with low. And I think low is boring and discovered. I did low and got the tee shirt. Right?

    Flanders is tucked away and surrounded by cliffs strewn with goats. Side note from Mo is that you will not find sheep and goats close in proximity. OK where was I …

    Sure, sure, we could ski up high now. But everything is covered. If it is going to be snow and cold then I want the worst of it. Blowing, cold, and at night through a raging blizzard. And that is not physically exploring the planet but interacting with it. Living with it.

    We enjoyed Flanders. And at a good time of the year too. Colors about and a lake that we marked as a re-do complete with an overnight stay. You know … after the snow is gone. When we can go high again.

  • A hidden gem

    A hidden gem

    The difference between pleasure and pain is … well, kidding, maybe that is a little dramatic for today’s post. Let me just say this. When you have a choice between forcing yourself to go out and doing something you have already done and something that is new, choose new. For instance. When we were deciding on what we needed to force our lazy asses to do we had a trail we had done before and one we didn’t know if it existed or not. We chose the latter. And it turned out to be the best hike of the year. So get out today and do something new to you.

  • When storms roll in

    When storms roll in

    It happens every spring. The first low temperature of the season. For us here in Bozeman that will be tomorrow. A high of only 36 during the day. And then that night getting down to 19. Very exciting. I can’t wait.

    Like trees. Some grow at lower elevations and some up high. The mortality rate is higher up in the mountains. Sure, there is the global warming element that is killing some. But the ones that I identify with are the others. Some survivors and some killed in a avalanche or huge dump of snow being snapped off or uprooted under the weight. I like trees and I would like to identify with them … the ones up high. Down low it is all cushy and pretty. Little waterfalls give off a serine sounds as the lush forest around them sleep in. All nice … but boring.

    Do they get exited when storms roll in? If you were a tree would you be excited? I am … because this is the excitement of life. Go out into the elements and face life. It is more exciting to ride a bike into work and be extremely cold then drive a car with the heater turned up. Yep … I’ll take the ride. And I am not wearing any coats … time to get ready for when a real storm rolls in.

  • Rinse and repeat

    Rinse and repeat

    You climb until you get to the top. Some say that they are not interested in the top and that they turn around early if they want. But then there is the rub. At least for me I feel these people still are pretty driven to reach the top. Maybe they make disclosure statements so that in case of weather and they don’t make it they don’t feel like they failed. What ever! The pattern is always the same. Start out. Reach the top. Head back down. Reflect on the journey. Remember the journey. Be visited by dreams of that journey. Then … want to do it again. Rinse and repeat.

  • Everything ends

    Everything ends

    But bikes. I mean a carbon bike will last forever right? But for us humans … not so much. We end. Our journeys end. Our relationships end. Jobs end. Situations ends. Most of all, seasons end. My current journey is speckled with evidence of things that end.

    Colors of leaves changing and under-story turning yellow. Huckleberry leaves a bright red. Yellow leaves floating down a creek. Separated and now floating away from what they knew and where they have been. The warm summer days long gone. Now everything is cold.

    Fortunately there ARE other seasons. We end, true, but our legacy lives on. Mine is that I bum everyone out? Burning out the bright embers of happiness and inserting me, me, my problems, me. Why am I a downer … but I cant harp on that. The season is changing and I am in reflection of that. Ok, what else renews?

    Journeys end as well but we find others. Relationships end sadly enough. But we do enter into others … if we allow it. Takes time I guess. Jobs end but always for the better. Always. Situations all end and we always find ourselves in others. Even bad situations can be used to win races I believe.

    Bikes never end. We can always find one and ride it. This go around to ride until I figure it all out.

  • A month from now

    A month from now

    I was shocked to see how close our next race is. We are 4 weeks out. I closed my browser and headed out for our Tuesday night adventure. Tonight was Upper Hyalite Lake. I am ready for tonight’s ride but am I ready to stay awake and ride for 25 hours? Not really. And this worries me. Not to win but to have a great time. And you can not have a great time when you suffer. Well not usually. And what suffers? Mostly one’s ass. And staying awake sucks too but what can you do about that?

    I alert my partner and teammate about this up and coming event. She was silent for a while then suggested that she was ready. Because her core was more fit then when she did Rapeljie. And the ASS issue was a concern for her as well. Now in the middle of our ride the trail is rocky and punchy. Just like the race we are signed up for next month.

    Then it gets dark on us and our discussion had turned to thoughtful silence. Suddenly I realized it was time to turn around and ride out. In the dark. I guess maybe this was training session . Riding in the dark. And it was fun.

  • A weekend off

    A weekend off

    Yeah right! A weekend off from the ever demanding pattern of packing on Thursdays leaving on Fridays and then be back in place at the 40 hour work week sometime Monday morning.

    We planed the usual activities to get caught up. Since every week in the summer we have been gone. We planned to put plastic on the windows and weatherproof our house. We planned to clean the house. We planned to do some shopping. We planned to do a lot of things. This weekend we were finally going to get caught back up.

    Then we had a couple beers on Friday. And maybe a couple on Saturday. And of course on Saturday one needs to rest and make the trek over to REI and  look at some stuff .

    And then Sunday the sun came out. And so we decided to go for a mountain bike ride at Chestnut Mountain.The ride was fine in fact it was great. And really overall it was a fantastic afternoon riding through the Fall Foliage. When we got home we celebrated with another beer and sat down to watch a movie.

    So in the end nothing got done and we just stayed home. We even fit in a mountain bike ride. But nothing got done and maybe we have to take another weekend off to try and get things done. But we all know how that will go. We’ll just find an excuse to go on an adventure. Might as well pack and take off next weekend and get out of here so we don’t mess up the place.

  • Triple Tree TNA

    Triple Tree TNA

    For various reasons we moved our weekly adventure series to Tuesday effectively making it now the Tuesday Night Adventure. Those reasons are private. The forecast was for rain so I pulled a hike out of my ass. Bozeman proper is a bad place to hike. not many choices. Drinking Horse, M, Pete’s Hill, and some of the Bridger Range hikes. All freaking straight up and then straight down. Boring. And the snobs are out in force. Making sure they are Strava-ed on their favorite haunt Instagram-ing selfies to feel like a health young soul. What ever. The real adventurers want something different. Some diversity. Some rolling hills. Some color. and maybe some privacy.

    Well the Triple Tree Trail is a good find. Not lengthy but good enough for after work. And very colorful. Aspen forests, Doug Fir stands, and even the pesky log pole pine forests. Even sage ridge tops and rolling country with skunks hiding in plowed fields.  Ignore those 238 Private Property signs though. That land owner needs to find a life. Hey land owner … thanks for contributing to the community.