Category: Blog Posts

I think one of the reasons I like trails so much is that it is a direct connection to Mother Earth. Her vibration and willingness to take from you all the pent up electricity from modern life.

When everything is trying to damage you, she is there. I have traveled many a trail. Many a mile. Many a hill.

Thank you mother earth.

“Excuse me, when your my age you need all the help you can get”, as the older gent passed us and proceeded to climb the dirt road at around 20 mph. Mo giggled and then busted out in a laugh. I know that laugh. It is the same one that I heard when I licked a department store window.

“Just look at how fast he is going”, she said as the figure disappeared about a half-mile ahead already. That was all I needed. I pursued the man in black across the desert.

Never mind the debate. I have my insights. And I want to get one of these things so I can do reps on my favorite downhill track.

I never caught the man in black. I am no match for a 750-watt electric bike. I stopped and took off my shoes and socks and walked back to camp. Mother earth, what shall I do?

Well … the exact opposite of weathering. More like observing the storm. From the comforts of #buttonsthevan.

At this time I would like to express gratitude. For having jobs. For having shelter. And for the most beautiful thing of all … nature.

We arrived last night and at first, seemed good. I hot shower, etc. Right?

Then this morning I go for a walk. It’s 31 and feels like 29 according to my app. Sure enough, I was realizing I forgot my gloves. Shit, I hate winter.

“Grab some food we are packing the van“, I yelled through the door as I grabbed the knob with a crude COVID hanky thing.

Two and a half hours later we arrive at our camping spot we had just left the day prior. Now, this is living.

Back in Livingston Montana resetting. Laundry, showers, and filling water tanks. The plan is to hit up Acton for another week or so for enduro training camp part 2. Which brings me to what is dominating my mind. How important is it to set a distance as a goal? With my passion, which is mountain biking. Which is in the normal scheme of thing pretty stupid. But I have this desire to look at last year and out-do it mileage wise. Not time spent on bike or exercising. But distance. Come to think of it I care about speed too. Higher, faster, farther …. always on my mind.

I mean, it’s not sustainable to always increase your mileage as you get older, right? At one time in my life. I cycled I think 8,000 miles in a single season. Which for a mountain biker is a lot? If I were a road cyclist, it would have probably been more like 10,000 a year. By now I would be biking every day, all day just to keep up.

Of course, now that I’m old. I’m wise. I can’t go back. So, What’re my goals now? I’m thinking 10% of how much I did last year. As I started the Enduro phase of my life my mileage has gone way down. So it is my concern that I am starting to slow down. It always bugs me.

I AM getting old though. It’s all an illusion I know but hey, I gotta have goals and I love goals. I love going out knowing that I gotta bike 10 miles a day or else. I always like to go faster farther or more of something than last year. And I really don’t like doing anything else … AT ALL.

I don’t wanna just lay down and die. I wanna obtain more. Right now. I’m on par with last year. I just have to do at least 10 miles a day to sustain that but at some point, as we reach the sixth month halfway point of the year I’ll have to think about what I have to do to be 10% over 2019.

Well, to think more about this I’ll just jump on my bike a pedal around Livingston.

The first time I saw it, I was afraid of it. I thought to myself that when I did encounter it that I would just go around.

But after a couple of days here I suddenly realized that I was looking forward to it. Even more so then the path to get to it. I am having issues with everything but it now. As I write this, I miss it.

That feeling of speed and flight. Going into it feeling peace and how everything will turn outright. The joy of seeing the landing zone pass underneath me.

What did you think I was talking about? This double jump in the middle of OwlBBack Run.

No critters were injured as I practiced for this jump.

This place is out in the middle of nowhere. From our front door, it is 2 hours, over 100 miles away. From the big metropolis known as Livingston to bum fudge Egypt, as the saying goes.

If it rains you stay thanks to peanut butter gumbo mud. Every day at 5 a huge storm hits you with high winds, hail, and sometimes a blizzard. It is hotter than death valley here. Sometimes 80 in the offseason. In the summer … well, you just don’t come here. Does anyone remember the 24 hours of Rapeljie? Yea, then you know about the evening tornado followed by days of searing heat. Rapeljie is just over the horizon from here. We can see Hailstorm Lake.

There are the occasional deer and plenty of bird watching but the most abundant creature is the rattlesnake. It is dry and there is no water for 20 miles. If you are someone that fears running out of toilet paper then stay away … there is none in these parts.

The land is BLM but it goes unmonitored. Motorheads have destroyed the only bathroom facility and in the evening can be heard ripping up the parking lot with their quads.

There are people here that will kill you if you don’t leave them alone, living among the sandstone cliffs they roam just enough to not raise any suspicion from BLM law enforcement. Again, not monitored although I did see a deputy come by once.

We have spent two weeks here. It is so peaceful, beautiful, and did I mention the bike park. I have to call it my favorite place in the spring. I love Acton Rec Area.

“I just can’t do it … I just can’t, my brain just is not wired that way. I give up”, snuggles was just off the trail looking completely demolished.

“I think it is just fear, you have to make that connection to trust”

We walked the drop again. The roll-in was a bit squirrely and to set up for the drop one should give the bike a flick up onto the edge of the trail.

After a bit, a couple of young dudes rolled up with full-face helmets and stopped. Terror washed over their faces. I gave them tidbits of advice, this coming from someone who hasn’t conquered the fear yet. They went around and one of them rolled into the smallest one.

“Just roll off of it the first time”, I yelled down to him.

He retreated rolled up to it and let go.

“Holy shit that was easy”, he yelled back as he disappeared down the Redline, a run in Acton Bike Park.

She looked the entire spectacle over and agreed that there is absolutely nothing that could go wrong. Nothing.

“I don’t know why but I just can not do it, I can’t let go”

I knew this particular section was a wash. I wasn’t going to do the big drop and snuggles was just comfortable riding awesome single track and keeping the damn knobs on the ground.

I turned back up the trail to give the big drop one more look. As I peered over the edge I knew this was not my day to do the big one. I walked my bike to the top of the b-line. Suddenly, something felt wrong. I hear a thump and whoosh. I turned around and looked down the trail.

“Snuggles”?… “Hello?”

What had happened? I ran down the trail looking feverishly onto one side of the drop and then the other.

“Holy F%^&# hell, what happened”, I yelled down the hill.

Silence … until the sound of squabbling dirt came to an end. Sounded like someone finally putting on the brakes way down the hill.

“I sent it”, words lofted up the hill.

This may just be my weirdness slipping out. Living in Livingston one finds out pretty quickly that they must wave to everyone and for goodness sake always stop to talk. When we lived in other communities people wouldn’t even acknowledge us.

Now I am starting to think. I’ll bet that built into us as humans and animals this is a primal way of survival. We’re like deer in that when you see another and they wag their tail or wave it means everything’s a-okay and everyone is a friend. But if you don’t see anybody wag their tail or wave, you get a little release of adrenaline. Because deep down we are wondering if it is an enemy and if they are going to kill us? Is it a threat? Am I about to be eaten or pillaged?

I know this because it is how I feel in Livingston, I feel at peace when everybody waves. I think everything’s okay.

But in a previous town. People would just stare right through us and so we stopped waving after about a year. And I noticed that every confrontation on a trail and every meet up was this hostile staredown.

And I think it’s because people stopped waving. People stopped smiling and people stopped talking. It takes moving to a small friendly town to realize this. Sure there’s a lot of characters in Livingston. A lot of characters and a lot of different people. People that don’t fit in in the big communities.

But you know what? I have never felt safer as I do now.

Every morning I go out for a walk. The weird thing is that I get this hankering to take my shoes off and walk through the park. And today I was wondering … Why is that us humans do everything possible to get away from the earth? We make sidewalks, we have cars, and our houses are so comfortable. What is it that are we are trying to get away from.

Discomfort? Really? I don’t know about that but by the time I get to the park, I can’t wait to take my shoes off. I want to feel the contour. I want to get connected again. I want to feel the pine needles poking my feet tender parts. I want to discharge all this negative electricity.

It’s been a month since my birthday. Right smack dab at the start of the lock-down.

I have to say that even with being chained to a cell I have things to appreciate. Like the person who made me a flour-less and sugarless cake, which I may add is my favorite treat. And I am thankful to the person who makes being locked up fun.

It’s nearly over. They are about to release us back out into freedom.

This morning’s walk is a little bit more enjoyable. I’m seeing the beauty. I’m seeing spring elements. I am seeing hope.

Everything is more beautiful. And everything is more positive. And we are going to pack #buttonsthevan. And go camping.

The gravel has been wet but insanely delicious. Weirdly enough it snows every day but then it dries. We go out to a gravel haunt and it is dry. So all the while it is depressing to be on lockdown and consistently look out the window to a depressing scene, the afternoons seem to work out with short excursions.

We are loving the opportunity to get out. But … just … it would be nice to go mountain biking someday.

Three days ago there was a knock on the door. Would it be the testers. Comming to find if you HAD IT and if you did cart you away to a cell in solitude. Today we are now opening the box that the delivery person left at our door. IT was extremely relieving that it was not the testers.

Now out of package quarantine, we opened the box. It was our lockdown bunker supplies. A summers supply of sourdough.

Outside the devel dust started to fall. I am responsable for the ignorance that landed me here. And now with the enimy dust outside I had to deal with my decisions.

“Should we go for a ride today”, a voice said as I cam out of my denial meditation.

“sure”

Of course, our couch is a bike seat. And tv, well it is the outdoors. We are not traveling but we do travel. On two wheels.

Livingston is a paradise for gravel grinding. And here in Montana, our counties are HUGE. We can go out all day and not leave home.

Yea, binge-watching at the moment.

I am in #buttonsthevan. Been here for two days. I just had to get out of the apartment. I’ve been working on a couple of things. I’ve insulated. One wall and the ceiling. I have created more headspace by taking out a wall and using the window covering. I’ve installed lights and a bike rack.

Yeah, a complete overhaul as you will. I’m exhausted now and I sit back.

And I try to think back to the last time we went camping the last time we were able to go out and do an adventure. I think maybe Lewis and Clark Caverns. Was that a dream? Will it ever happen again? I wonder.

We will be closed for a while said the sign at our favorite movie theater. I remember the empty stores as I pull the last sheet of toilet paper. A concerned look washes over my face before changing to complete bliss. A challenge.

We will go out and make our movies and adventure. And we will use the outdoors to poop and some bark to clean up. Most residents of Livingston is doing the same. I have seen more people out making their adventure than before lockdown.

Disclaimer … we have a storage shed full of paper products and google play has some pretty good deals right now.