Category: Blog Posts

My first real test of the new machine (Salsa:Red Barn) is producing some promising results. I did the Sypes to Middle Cottonwood adventure. This machine is all about adventure.  It pushes easy, probably due to it’s larger wheels. And it is super safe feeling, again with the larger wheels.  I love the simplicity of this hard tail with no paint.  To clean simply just rinse and wipe.  And … no hard to reach places like on my Turner.

So now I know the bike is easy to hike up a hill and can handle the drudgery of transcending large avalanche debris paths. Oh, how did the bike handle.  Um, I think OK.  Mostly, however, I remember the beauty and oneness I had with the rugged terrain. Being alone and interfacing with the wild is so enveloping one hardly notices the material things we bring along.  So I cant remember much about the bike but if I did it wouldn’t be doing its job … right?

Ah, the art of the perfect bike date. Let’s dive in, shall we? First things first, pick a spot that’s so under the radar it’s practically in witness protection. I’m talking about those charming, obscure rural towns in Montana with names that sound like they belong more in a New York borough than out West—Manhattan, for instance. You can check it out here: Town of Manhattan. This way, if the date tanks, it’ll fade into oblivion faster than my New Year’s resolutions.

Next up, hunt down the shortest bike path you can find that leads to a river. It’s all about the journey, or lack thereof, in this case. Once you’ve arrived, find the most unremarkably bland spot to plant yourselves. The kind of place that’s so dull, you’ll have nothing to do but actually talk to each other—imagine that!

After soaking in the mediocrity, it’s time to pedal back to civilization. This is where it gets fun. Get yourselves hopelessly lost on a dirt road, dodging what I can only describe as unnervingly enthusiastic doves. Just as you’re contemplating your life choices, along comes a woman straight out of “Little House on the Prairie,” giving you both such a fright that any thoughts of a goodnight kiss are banished to the realm of “maybe next time.”

And just like that, you’re both speeding off into the sunset, or more accurately, away from it, each silently thanking the other for a memorable, if not entirely conventional, adventure.

“Sometimes inspiration is more important then perspiration”, I tell my friend on the phone as I look out over the street to a colorful scene involving a red tree with mountains behind it. I was talking about the fact that I did not work out but instead watched a world cup mountain bike race on TV. Maybe it is an excuse. It is true. I have not been working out according to plan lately. But who sticks to plans anyway?

Yesterday I tried my luck at riding up the road to Hyalite. It was closed as my friend suggested but instead of the foot of snow predicted all I found was dry roads.  So I went up there …o/o

The world is beautiful.  And all elements are firing in order.  The engine of life is tuned and I am ready for my trip. How can being so comfortable be so uncomfortable.  When is a couch a torture device.  The roof over my head a prision.  Comfortable life is not for me.  I think a ride is in order. To go out and suffer.  Get caught up in a mishap … yea … that’s real living.

After my walkabout I stumbled back to my cottage. It is nice to be home and last I was here it was all awhite with winter. Now the wildflowers are reaching towards the spring sun and everything is turing green. I open the windows and the light floods my home. I feel like I have it all. A quiet place to rest and to recharge the batteries.  Soon I will be in the throws of a new training regumine.  But for now … I sleep.

My life may seem like a train wreck.

But when you really look at it I actually have pretty good form.

What does flowers have to do with today’s post. Shit I don’t know. It’s the only photo I have at the moment. I was busy riding my bike all day.  Where did I ride do you ask? ha! The Jumbo Juggernaut.

This year my new bike was the star. It climbed.  And wow did it descend.  For me, fat and old, not so much.  I went slower then ever but in the end felt like I didn’t even ride at all. Yea, it was so easy I went into town later to ride with someone else and go on a date. This years loop (Garmin Connect) was a 13.06 mile loop with 2,011 feet climbing and I wanted it to be a 1 hour loop. Except I was a slow ass.

Last year was a 11.3 mile loop with 1,785 feet of climbing.  To enhance my frustration of getting old I was slower then last year’s disappointments …  “Overall for the 6 hours I did 6 laps in 7:12 while last year it only took me 6:39. That means I lost to last years Bill Martin by 33 minutes. It is what it is. Might as well just keep up with the training, get some rest, and maybe loose a few pounds. I’ll be back” I mentioned in last years blog.

“I am happy to announce that I came in first with a time of 2:30 with Ross in chase at 2:50. It is rumored that Ross took “alternate” routes but the judges determined that since he had worked out so hard and was covered in so much mud that he deserved second place”, I posted in 2010. Everything clicked even my blogging humor.  I do remember heat stroke after though.

2009 I started it all as I prepared for the worlds. “Sunday was a little more serious and I had to practice my solo pace with pit stops.  I made up a course called the Jumbo Juggernaut (http://tiny.cc/bdTsE). A 15.5 mile loop with almost 3,000 feet of climbing.  It was freaking hot as for the first time Missoula got into the 80s.  I definitely mis-judged how much water to carry per lap and by the third lap I was dragging my tongue. Some of the Bozone crew showed up to ride some of it with me and Zephanie came back for more punishment. Ended up finishing the day with 61.5 miles in just over 6 hours and 12,100 feet of climbing. And that ends my account of last weekend.  Oh yea, then there was Happy Hour at the Bridge Pizza after…”

map : http://g.co/maps/mdkak

This morning it started.  A stuffy head from recent pollination with an increasing pressure in the head. All normal stuff.  But when working remote sometimes you drink way to much coffee and eat way too much pastries.  I texted my boss from Break Espresso that I was taking a sick day. An hour later I was mobilized on the bed hanging on for dear life.  I had vertigo … bad.  And that is how I missed todays ride … bummed.

Every morning I get up early to watch the show. I cook up some bacon and whip some cream for a quad espresso. Actually it is mostly decaf but I really like that strong bean taste.  I gather all my gear and go outside on the deck.

And right on time the sun comes up.  Every morning.  Is that a spiritual belief?  That the sum will always come up?  I sure wish “situations” in life were more reliable.  But then it would be boring … right?  Oh well, I will always have the morning show. And a belief that everything always works out.

Jay Petervary won the Stagecoach 400 by riding without any sleep whatsoever for just under 50 hours. Wow! That is so amazing! His post alone made something click in my head. And then bouncing my feelings off of someone last night solidified my understanding of what I am as a multi day adventurer on a mountain bike. I don’t think I will be a good multi day racer.

I know a lot of my friends have been waiting for the day that I sign up for the Tour Divide.  And so this thought may be hard to digest but I think I know myself better then anyone.  And I know I like to live and experience. I love to travel and experience all kinds of stimulus.  But how much can you enjoy a ride if you are in a sleep deprived coma? I know, one will find a new meaning to life and understand themselves better when faced with great diversity.  But after suffering many hours then passing out and crashing to mother earth in the wee hours of the morning I have come to an understanding of my own.

I think I would make a terrible multi-day mountain bike racer. I think my limit for pure output is 24 hours and then my talents drop off dramatically.  Case in point was this last weekend. It took me two days to cover a measly 100 miles and at the 90 mark I blew up in dramatic fashion.  I have spent the last two days walking around like I just played in my first tackle football game.

Now that I am rested and going through some photographs I am realizing that I almost missed the most important part of last weekend. The beauty and diversity of mother earth. Another day on the bike and I would have been in so much delirium that I probably wouldn’t even noticed the earths greatest gifts.  When I was sitting in my truck-shelter-bivy waiting out a snow storm I asked myself why I have to make things so miserable.  Cant I just mosey down the path? Why do I have to attack it?

“What if you stopped suffering and just went at a sustainable pace? I think you would go even farther … and faster. Why suffer and slow down when you can go steady and eventually catch and beat everyone … if that is what you want. You would of not HAD to come back at Frog Hollow. You would have been way out there … given you just had started and stayed in your fun zone…”, the voice said to me on my cell phone last night.  A voice from someone that is new to big bike efforts. And it made a lot of sense.

Now that I am dabbling and wanting to enter a new genera of mountain bike efforts I have the opportunity to enjoy myself.  After all the reason I suffer so  much in my current racing world is because I have so much expectation and feel pressure to bury myself … the madness of Bill Martin … right? Why?

The weekend and the work week. Blizzard and sunshine. Snowy peaks and tilled bare earth. Sitting on your ass and getting outside.  All a part of life.