Category: Blog Posts

Battling the triple threat of depression, anxiety, and that ever-elusive quest for meaning, here I am on this fine Sunday, March 3rd, taking a trip down memory lane in search of some semblance of purpose. You know, it’s one of those days where you mix a bit of soul-searching with your morning coffee, wondering if the past holds the key to unlocking the mysteries of your present.

Today felt like I was the star of an epic saga, the kind where you’re sprinting a 24 hour race, but the finish line’s got legs of its own. Ever felt the universe prepping to throw ruts your way? That sums up my Friday. Started off on the wrong side of bed, and it was a bad downhill ride from there. In a nutshell, that’s what went down.

So, who am I in this grand cosmic joke? Not just any regular Joe, that’s for sure. Recently, I got the lowdown on some special-traits test results, and guess what? They confirmed the secret I’ve been in on for years – my brain’s doing its own funky dance, different from the crowd. It’s like discovering you’ve been playing life on expert mode and the instruction manual got lost in the mail.

Then, as if on cue, my boss drops a meeting on my calendar at 3pm, a solid punchline to the joke that was my day, way beyond my usual “see ya!” time. I went from zero to sixty in no time flat. The rest of the day? Let’s just call it a wash. My partner Mo, sensing the brewing tempest, executed a flawless strategic withdrawal, leaving me to stew in my own juices. Dealing with having-special-powers means embracing a unique set of hurdles, like craving routine and experiencing the world in HD. It’s a road of self-discovery, and while I’ve clocked some serious miles, days like today remind me the journey’s far from over.

In a desperate bid for a reset, I hit the MoZ trail for some bike therapy. Did it work? Not a chance. I was still smoldering a day later. But, you know what? Life marches on, and so do I. Opening up about my s-p-e-c-i-a-l journey is my way of bridging gaps and spreading a little enlightenment. It’s a spectrum of experiences that’s sculpted the masterpiece that is me.

And speaking of masterpieces, let’s take a detour down memory lane with some highlights from my blog here. From the captivating vistas of Cape Lookout State Park to the frosty challenges of the Togwotee Winter Classic, each post is a chapter of my adventure love story and my embrace of the wild. Whether it’s pedaling past Lolo Hot Springs or navigating the choppy waters of job uncertainty, each tale is a puzzle piece of my saga.

Starting with my latest adventure in 2023 at Cape Lookout State Park, a place where beauty and peace stood in stark contrast to today’s chaos, reminding me that, like navigating ASD’s challenges, venturing into the unknown can unearth tranquility and insights.

Rewinding to 2016, my Dear Bozeman post echoes today’s frustrations, a call for respect on the roads that mirrors my plea for understanding and patience in the social dance and life’s sudden shifts.

In 2015, the Togwotee Winter Classic paralleled today’s trials with its test of endurance and willpower, a reminder of the resilience needed to face personal and societal hurdles related to my-special-powers.

2011‘s Hucker captured a day like today, a much-needed release from the day’s tensions, finding freedom in adrenaline-fueled moments of me.

Ah, the serene “Spring Sun” of 2010 – a digital haven on Spring Sun that sprinkled a little magic on an otherwise roller-coaster of a day (seriously, is there an echo in here?). It’s like the universe’s way of whispering, “Hey, it’s not all chaos; here’s a slice of peace and beauty for you, served fresh.”

Then there was 2008, a year that threw us onto two unforgettable roller coasters: the scenic Lolo Hot Springs Ride and the adrenaline-pumping Broken Shifter, both tales that make you want to throw your hands in the air and shout, “Bring it on, life!” amidst laughter. Right, I need to find joy and growth in journeys, despite the occasional rut.

2007‘s Getting Ready to Go resonated with the anticipation and prep for new quests, much like the mental gearing up required to tackle challenging days, is what I do best.

And 2004‘s contemplation on Waiting To Be Laid Off echoed the anxiety and suspense that often accompanies me-being-special, especially when facing the unknown or waiting on outcomes beyond my control. Yikes!

Finally, 2002‘s Wallingford Mountain Biking adventure, a mud-splattered ride of joy and fulfillment, served as a reminder that sometimes, plowing through the muck is the only way to find happiness and satisfaction on the other side. Yummy, and I now get a warm feeling of rembering how long a journey life has been so far. I feel better.

Each post, a thread linked to my feelings today, paints a picture of a journey marked by discovery, challenge, and joy, serving as beacons that, despite the rough patches, each experience, like my special-powers, weaves a unique pattern in the tapestry of my life.

Ah, the life of a perpetual wanderer or, as I like to call it, my usual gig. You see, there’s something almost poetic about the routine – across the tracks, over the bridge, and then, like a magician’s grand finale, poof! Out of town. Each journey starts with that first step, or in my case, a steadfast pedal, since my bicycle and I have become quite the inseparable duo on these expeditions.

This isn’t just about covering distances; it’s about the stories that unfold between the start and end points. Like that time a squirrel decided it was a prime moment to play chicken as I was zooming down the trail. Or the unexpected detour that led me to the most quaint little café I’ve ever stumbled upon, serving what I now swear is the elixir of life disguised as coffee.

It’s these moments, these snippets of adventure, that make each trip more than just a route but a collection of experiences. Sure, to the untrained eye, it might seem like I’m just circling around aimlessly, but for those in the know, each ride is an epic saga. So, here’s to the tracks, the bridges, and the ever-alluring beyond. May the road be ever in our favor!

Ever feel like you hit a wall of exhaustion every afternoon? Well, you’re not alone. For the past couple of years, right around 2 PM, I’ve been smacked with a wave of fatigue so strong it’s like my body’s demanding a hard reset. I’m 58, working from home, and yes, I’ve wondered if this is just what getting older feels like.

But here’s the thing – I refuse to accept that. So, I’ve become a bit of a self-care detective, piecing together clues from my Oura ring, diet, and lifestyle to crack the case of the midday crash.

First off, I’m a champion sleeper – my Oura ring swears by it. But despite clocking in 7 to 8 hours nightly, I’m still dog-tired by lunchtime. I’ve got this ritual of two cups of coffee before 10 AM (never after), and I follow an anti-inflammatory diet, steering clear of manufactured oils and practicing intermittent fasting.

Post-vaccine, I felt a shift – the second shot threw me for a loop with fatigue that’s been hard to shake. But I keep moving, mountain biking daily without pushing too hard, because let’s face it, exercise is the elixir of life, right?

Now, my Oura tells me I’m walking the equivalent of over 21 miles a week, my resting heart rate’s a cool 43 bpm – thank you, biking – and my blood oxygen level is chilling at 97%. On paper, I’m the picture of health. But my energy levels tell a different story.

I’ve tinkered with my diet, played around with meal timings, and loaded up on electrolytes. I’ve basked in the morning sun like a cat seeking a warm spot, all to regulate those mysterious circadian rhythms. And stress? I’ve tried to show it the door with every trick in the book. Yet, here I am, trying to outwit this unwelcome afternoon guest.

So, what’s next for me? I’ve got a few aces up my sleeve – short, invigorating walks post-lunch, power naps that are more like power blinks, and staying hydrated like it’s my job. And I’m keeping a journal, logging my quests and missteps, because if there’s one thing I love more than biking, it’s a good mystery.

If you’ve ever felt like me, worn out when the day’s only half done, stay tuned. Together, we’ll figure out how to keep our engines running all day long. Because there’s a trail out there with my name on it, and I’ll bet there’s one with yours too.

Catch you on the flip side.

Just last weekend, my other half rolled out of bed, nursing what we figured was just a cranky neck. Little did we suspect, we were on the verge of diving headfirst into a five-day epic, a true test of our patience, our ability to catch some Z’s, and our mad Googling prowess. Picture this: the serene whispers of the night rudely shattered by the unexpected yelps of neck agony. Yep, that became our nightly jam. Despair? It pretty much invited itself in for an extended stay, like that one party guest who just doesn’t get the hint.

Here’s the thing about life throwing you a curveball like a sore neck turning into a five-alarm emergency: you learn a lot about each other. You learn that at 3 a.m., neither of you is as rational as you’d like to think. And that the question, “Should we call an ambulance?” can actually be a topic of debate.

The lack of sleep was a given. We were like two zombies, shuffling around, bumping into furniture, and muttering about cervical spines and ice packs. Sleep became this mythical creature we’d both heard about but couldn’t quite capture. Despair was in the air, sure, but so was determination.

We were in this bizarre dance of trying to keep it together, running on fumes and the hope that the next day would be better. It’s funny, in a way, how these moments of despair can bring you closer. You find humor in the absurdity of it all, like debating the merits of different neck pillows at 4 a.m. or the sudden expertise in chiropractic care you both seem to have acquired overnight.

In the end, though, it’s not just the gloom and the endless nights of tossing and turning that cling to me. It’s this little nudge, this reminder that we’re in this wacky ride together, navigating through stiff necks and the unavoidable zombie-mode days that trail behind. Life has this quirky habit of tapping you on the shoulder—sometimes gently, other times with a stiff neck and a generous dose of pandemonium. But it’s always, without fail, sprinkled with a dash of humor to light the way.

Ah, the classic tale of plans gone awry, leading to unexpected adventures. “What should we do today?” Mo’s question hung in the air like a frisbee waiting to be caught. And me? I was simmering in a pot of frustration, stewing over our scrapped camping plans and the looming evening obligations—a friend’s birthday group call. Given my choice, I’d choose to escape the confines of home for bike ride in the woods.

I was feeling the Grrrrr. My response to Mo was a masterclass in trying not to sound like a grumpy cat. “I don’t know,” I said, each word dripping with a thinly veiled irritation that I hoped sounded more like indifference. However, as my anger began to deflate like a poorly sealed camping mattress, fate steered us to Milltown, MT, just a skip away from Missoula.

With our gravel bikes in tow—mine affectionately dubbed Orca, and Mo’s known as El—we set off on the path to Milltown Park Confluence Area. The state park, with its gravel bars ripe for exploration and a pedestrian bridge arching over the Blackfoot River, was the perfect antidote to my earlier mood. The ride toward Turah, Montana, was therapy on two wheels, a balm for the soul that only biking can provide.

Yet, as the day stretched on, a nostalgic whim struck me. How splendid it would be to pedal all the way home, reminiscent of days when spontaneity was our only compass. Ignoring this instinct, we veered off course to revisit the haunts of our past rides—the legendary TNR Woody mountain route. But as we arrived at the crossroads of Time and Space, everything had changed. The once welcoming access road was now barred by a stern “No Trespassing” sign, and the familiar escape routes from Woody had transformed into a tableau straight out of a dystopian novel—a Republican stronghold, complete with evidence of tank-piercing ammunition and the macabre sight of boiling deer heads.

Caught between nostalgia and the reality of change, I realized that even the familiar streets of Milltown had evolved. The day took an unexpected turn, morphing into a strangely captivating journey. Despite the occasional moment of bike-pouting, my Milltown ride became a celebration of past friendships, the therapeutic power of cycling, and the beauty of the ever-shifting landscape of time and space.

Ah, the great outdoors—a natural spa, if you will, but it seems the masseuse got their certification from the back of a cereal box. Picture this: not too long ago, we ventured out from the snuggly warmth of the Fairmont RV Resort, hearts brimming with the spirit of adventure, blissfully unaware of the backache looming on the horizon. Our noble steeds for the day? Fat bikes. The quest? To tackle the Copper Way Regional Trail by the scenic Silver Bow Creek, where winter stages its own magical light show, turning the water into a mirror reflecting the sky’s mood.

As we hit the road, the landscape unfurled like a scene from a Bob Ross painting, with the creek snaking through like a stroke of brilliant blue under the benevolent watch of a cerulean sky. It was one of those moments that makes you appreciate how ice, in its silent majesty, can give even the most snap-worthy spots a run for their money. Our path paralleled the train tracks, a harmonious blend of history and nature.

We managed a commendable two and a half miles before the snow deemed us not worthy of further exploration. The journey back? Picture a mechanical bull scenario, but strip away any semblance of grace and add several layers of thermal gear. Mo and I, through a ballet of bumps and lurches, solidified our bond—not through the joys of fat biking, but by acknowledging our shared preference for adventures on the less bouncy side.

---

On this day in history:

2023: Hidden – If there was a biography about you, what would the title be? I stand on the shore, gazing out at the endless expanse of ocean before me.

2016: Remembering 11 Years Ago Today – One of my fondest memories was a ridge snowshoe with my friend Alden the we did back in 2005.

2015: Lucy and Buck – From 1803-1806, in an exciting journey to the Pacific Ocean and back, Lucy and Buck’s Corps of Discovery mapped the lands.

2014: Life Path – Last weekend my partner and I did a ride from Wise River to Elkhorn Hot Springs and then back the next day.

2012: SMSS – Alright, listen up! Sunday morning? More like Sunday Mourning Shit Show, or SMSS.

2010: Push – This is part 4 in a series of blog posts that I am dedication to my favorite photos of 2009.

2008: Cyclist v.s. Mother Nature – Oh, today’s the day for a beastly two-hour spin! Who’s up for the challenge?

2006: Geeze … Gotta Get Get Going – G5 – I guess you have to be there … in my mind. Too many coffees!

2006: Blackfoot Ride To Potomac – Hey there, friends! Bill checking in after a fantastic day that ended with me glued to the closing ceremonies of the Olympics.

2005: Lolo Peak Area Today – My friend Alden Wright and I have teamed up this weekend to snowshoe up a East ridge of Lolo Peak.

2004: JOB UPDATE – As you all know the government has canceled comanche. Sikorsky aircraft along with UTC has no clue what to do with us.

2003: Computer Funnies – At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry.

2002: Me Fat – Today is blue. I am blue because my body fat reduction and/or weight are not where I want it to be. I seem to be gaining weight with muscle mass.

From the latest outdoor misadventures back to a time of personal reflections and career uncertainties, this list offers a chronological reverse journey through the captivating and varied experiences shared in blog form.

Ah, the passage of time. Remember that scene in Interstellar where Matthew McConaughey ages 23 years while chilling on another planet? Yeah, feels about right. Has it really been six years since I last strapped on skate skis, looking like a baby deer learning to walk on ice skates? Denial is strong, folks, because I swear it was just… two years ago? Yeah, right. My last vivid memory isn’t even in our beloved Missoula, but Mammoth WY in Yellowstone Park, a different world, a different lifetime.

Fast forward to a couple days ago, where Mo and I decided to tackle Pattee Canyon, practically our Missoula backyard. Stepping into those familiar bindings felt like slipping into a comfy pair of jeans… that shrunk in the dryer. Sure, they fit, but you ain’t doing any high kicks without risking wardrobe malfunction. 2.2 miles later, and let me tell you, I was done-zo. Wasted. Kaput. Felt like I went through the car wash on high pressure, inside out.

Funny how time and distance play tricks on you in the great outdoors. What used to be a warmup felt like a trek through Mordor. But hey, even with the huffing, puffing, and realization that my fitness peaked somewhere in the early 2000s, the pure joy of gliding with Mo was magical. The scenery, the crisp air, the shared laughter – it was like a perfect storm of “why don’t we do this more often?” mixed with “oh yeah, because my lungs are staging a coup.”

So, here’s to reclaiming old passions, accepting that time is a sneaky thief, and remembering that while the spirit is willing, the body sometimes needs a pep talk (and maybe a donut break). Let’s not wait another six years, eh? Because as Beyoncé wisely sang, “if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it” – in this case, the ring being regular trips to the mountains, not diamonds (although diamonds are nice too). Remember, friends, getting older is inevitable, but staying young at heart? Totally optional. Let’s choose the latter, with slightly more breaks and maybe a slightly smaller mountain next time.

Feb 24 in History:

2023: Law – Pondering the power to change a law, symbolized by a branch’s stability on the beach amidst crashing waves.

2017: Team MoBill Part 4 – Encounters – The beginning of the Team MoBill Story, tracing its origins back to 2010 and an Adventure Cycling holiday party.

2012: Taking the long way – Reflecting on a preference for the scenic route, even if it means arriving after dark.

2010: Spirit – Part of a series on favorite 2009 photos, featuring Zepahnie Blasi taking in the Pipestone Valley’s vastness.

2008: Great Riding in Seeley – Chronicles a training ride to Seeley Lake and supporting friends at the Snow Joke Half Marathon.

2007: Home Safely – A brief update on a safe return home and a casual mention of enjoying “Double Haul” at the “Board Room.”

2007: Product Review – Sharing insights from a 50-mile ride, including the aftermath of cleaning up and a hearty pasta meal.

2002: Sleeping Giant Hike – A recount of a challenging hike that could tire even Paul Bunyan, exploring the Sleeping Giant.

2002: Cool – COOL: Discovering a website dedicated to the frequently hiked mountain range.

As a relatively new addition to Bill’s life, I, Blue, have quickly learned that humans are indeed complex creatures, especially when they start pondering the intricacies of happiness on a sunny porch. There I was, basking in the warmth of the sun, a simple joy for a cat like me, when Bill launched into an introspective journey that had me tilting my head more than once.

2023: Imagine That – Bill reminisced about capturing moments of wonder last year. To him, those memories signified happiness. I remember purring contentedly in his lap, intrigued by the joy humans find in memories captured in time.

2022: Bill and Mo’s Fantastic Day Out – Bill’s tales of desert adventures and the bond he shared made me wish I could have been there, chasing lizards and feeling the sand under my paws. It seemed happiness for humans was about shared experiences.

2018: Setbacks – The story of near disaster with the Element and a farmer was a bit beyond me. I guess happiness for humans is as much about overcoming challenges as it is about peaceful sunbathing.

2012: Little Bear Creek – The adventure and perseverance Bill talked about made me think of my own daring jumps and climbs. Perhaps there’s a common thread of finding happiness in overcoming obstacles, whether you’re human or feline.

2010: Rebecca In Town & Pipestone – Hearing about the joy of gatherings and explorations, I couldn’t help but feel a bit envious. My own adventures are usually solo, but I understand the happiness that comes from being part of a group.

2009: Grand Ride in Bitterroots – Bill’s mixed feelings about winter rides made me grateful for my fur coat and the simple pleasure of a warm spot in the sun. It’s funny how happiness can be so situational.

2008: Off to Seeley Lake – The spontaneity of human adventures is something I admire. It’s a reminder that sometimes, happiness is about embracing the unexpected, much like a sudden leap onto a previously unexplored shelf.

2007: I’m No Fake – Bill’s reflections on authenticity made me ponder the straightforward nature of cat life. We are who we are, and perhaps there’s happiness in that simplicity.

2004: Pentagon to Cancel Comanche & New Poem in Literature Menu – The shift to more somber topics was a bit lost on me, but I sensed Bill’s mood change. It’s curious how humans can swing from joy to sadness, their happiness so closely tied to their thoughts and the world around them.

2002: What’s Up In Plattsburgh? & Psycho – The contrast between community joy and personal turmoil was stark. It made me think about the stability of my four walls and the consistent joy I find in the small things, like a full food bowl and a warm lap.

Sitting there, listening to Bill’s winding tales, it struck me—humans really are complex. Their happiness is a mosaic of experiences, relationships, emotions, and reflections. As for me, I find happiness in the simple things: the warmth of the sun, the comfort of Bill’s lap, and the gentle rhythm of a human heart. Maybe, in sharing these moments with Bill, I’m part of his mosaic too, a small piece of the complex puzzle of human happiness.

Ah, the great outdoors! Today, we’re diving into the dos and don’ts of the Copperway Trail, a 14.5-mile slice of heaven nestled between Deer Lodge and Silver Bow Counties, with a special shoutout to the Silver Bow Creek Greenway Project.

First things first, do keep your eyes peeled for eagles along the trail. They’re not just for decoration, folks.

Remember, the trails are not just for you but for the snow too. So, use a fatbike if that happens. Don’t touch that devil dust.

Last but certainly not least, enjoy the silverbow creek or river, whatever it is.

On this day in history:

• 2023: Ignore Adventure
• 2020: What am I doing?
• 2018: Try and Continue
• 2015: The Urban Legend Winter Edition
• 2015: My favorite podcast
• 2012: Monday Monday
• 2010: Best Day Yet
• 2008: The Fork is Out For Refurb
• 2008: YouTuber Makes Comment
• 2002: Morning Coffee Brings Sunshine

Dive into these snapshots of life’s adventures, from musings on the simplicity of daily moments to the thrill of outdoor exploration. Each post is a testament to the journey of self-discovery and the ever-evolving adventure of life.

Oh boy, let me tell you about the legendary US West Trail. It’s like Mother Nature decided to test the mettle of us mere mortals – starts off pretending to be your friend with a brutal climb that’ll have your legs begging for mercy before you’ve even hit the halfway mark. And just when you think you’ve made peace with the uphill battle, it throws a curveball – a sidehill single track that’s more on the “yikes” side of thrilling. Seriously, one wrong move and you might as well RSVP to a tumbleweed party in East Missoula.

But here’s the kicker – it’s my winter wonderland. While most trails are doing their best impression of the Ice Age, the US West Trail basks in just enough sun to shed its snowy coat. It’s like it knows we need our outdoor fix, providing a clear path for those of us brave (or crazy) enough to tackle it.

So, to all my fellow outdoor enthusiasts, if you’re looking for a trail that offers a bit of everything – challenge, beauty, and a touch of danger (with a safety net of pancakes at the end) – US West Trail is your jam. Just remember, it’s all fun and games until someone ends up as a snowman in East Missoula. Happy trails, friends!

On this day in history:

• 2023: The sweet taste of adventure – A whimsical query into everyone’s favorite candy serves as a metaphor for the varied flavors of adventure life offers.
• 2012: Tree fight – Bill reflects on the frustrations of being cheap and lazy, leading to a humorous yet insightful look at personal growth and the occasional battle with nature.
• 2010: Artistic Juice – After a recovery hike, Bill muses on photography and the creative process, offering a glimpse into the soulful side of outdoor exploration.
• 2008: Road Riding West of Missoula Day 2 – A repeat of a challenging route with a friend, complete with dubbed climbs and a touch of humor to lighten the grueling journey.
• 2008: So What is Boneshakerbike – An origin story of sorts, Bill explains the significance behind his email addresses and account names, linked to his biking team and the handcrafted bikes they rode.
• 2007: Another Day, Another Turn of the Crank – A contemplative morning in Missoula, Montana, sparks thoughts on the joys of mountain biking and the beauty of Big Sky country.
• 2002: Great Day For a Mountain Bike Ride – Bill shares his enthusiasm for a day perfect for mountain biking, along with plans for a hike with his dog, highlighting the simple pleasures of outdoor activities.
• 2001: 2 Hour Ride – A light-hearted post-ride reflection, Bill compares his biking adventures to the comedic twists of the movie “Shanghai Noon,” finding joy in the unexpected.

Each post, a story; each story, a memory etched into the trails of time, inviting you to pedal along through the pages of my adventures.

Picture this, folks: Montana mountains, snowflakes swirling like sugarplums, yours truly and my trusty sidekick Mo, embarking on a pilgrimage to the mythical Fairmont Hot Springs. Destination: steamy bliss under the big sky. Mission: post-soak superhero workout in the RV park, leaving Wolverine in the dust.

Now, here’s the plot twist juicier than a huckleberry pie: after melting into those magical pools, with the wind whispering “brisk” at a balmy 5 degrees, our ironclad plans evaporated faster than a snowball on a Fourth of July barbecue. The mere thought of performing bear crawls in that frosted landscape had us giggling like chipmunks caught stealing sunflower seeds from Grandma’s porch. Can you see it? Me, flailing about like a confused flamingo, sending distress signals that would make even Bigfoot raise an eyebrow. The moose would’ve called animal control, and the spa staff would’ve been dusting off the rescue dogs.

So, did I ditch the workout? You bet your sweet bippy I did. But hold your horses, skeptics! Sometimes, the best plans – even those of mountain-biking mice – are destined for glorious detours, especially when they lead to unplanned laughter and relaxation. In the grand scheme of things, skipping a few burpees is a mere mosquito bite on the arm of life. It’s the unexpected hot spring sojourns, the shared giggles in the face of fitness faux pas, that truly nourish the soul.

Think of it this way: my night was an alternative workout. A hardcore session in plan-flexibility (not the limb-bending kind) and character-strengthening (braving the elements, figuratively and literally). Plus, who knows? Maybe there’s a hidden muscle group that thrives solely on the magic of hot springs. If not, well, hey, I just discovered the perfect excuse to ditch the bear crawls more often.

On this day in history:

• 2023: Ropes in the Ocean
• 2022: Traveling Zion Slideshow
• 2021: Obsession
• 2012: Rescue
• 2010: Thursday Night Meet Up
• 2008: Road Riding West O Missoula
• 2007: Spring Training
• 2006: Beetle In Peril – Looking Back
• 2002: Back to Training, Brookfield Park MTB Tonight
• 2001: I Can Only Do So Much

Each post captures a unique moment, from thrilling adventures to contemplative reflections, embodying the spirit of evolving adventures through the years.

Mastering the Art of Procrastination

Ah, procrastination: the art of turning “to-do” into “maybe tomorrow.” I’ve been there, eventually getting the T-shirt. Let’s explore procrastination with Timothy Pychyl’s insights, because facing reality can wait, right?

It’s not just about time management; it’s an emotional dodgeball with boredom, anxiety, and frustration. Instead, we jump into the world of funny videos and gaming marathons. Surprising, huh?

I was in the Procrastinators’ Club (meeting date: TBD). I learned the five stages of procrastination: ‘hedonistic delay’ (fun now, work later), ‘fear of failure’ (frozen by the thought of not succeeding), ‘perfectionism’ (if it can’t be perfect, why start?), ‘procrastiwork’ (busywork, not actual work), and ‘revenge procrastination’ (late-night freedom fights, sacrificing tomorrow’s energy).

But, there’s hope for us, the 20% procrastinators. An accountability buddy, breaking tasks down, and setting achievable goals can be our weapons against procrastination.

To break free, understand the emotional roots and adopt counter strategies. Productivity can become routine with patience and self-kindness. Let’s tackle procrastination together. After all, every journey starts with a step… or after one more episode.

On this day in history, Feb 18:

• 2023: Logs on Beach
• 2022: East Virgin River Canyon
• 2016: Trails Traveled
• 2015: Garnet Ghost Town
• 2012: Togwotee Training
• 2008: Let Levi Ride and First Road Ride of the Season
• 2006: Trip Across Montana Picture Posted and New Photos In Photo Oasis
• 2002: Single Track is Calling

Dive into these snapshots of time for a mix of humor, adventure, and the beauty of the outdoors through the lens of my experiences.

Chillin’ in my eco-chair, staring at my RabbitAir purifier, I mulled over boosting my eco-efforts. As a known green enthusiast, I decided to hit up RabbitAir, hoping they’d have a smart way to ditch their filters without hurting Mother Earth. The adventure, though, veered off course.

First Move: Eager Email

With a kick of fair-trade coffee, I reached out, asking about eco-smart disposal methods. Expected a hidden eco-plan, but nope.

Quick, Honest Reply

Ryan from RabbitAir hit me back pronto, saying they’re not yet riding the eco-wave. No recycle route—just the trash. Ouch.

A Speck of Hope

Ryan said he’d share my thoughts higher up. A glimmer, but left me pondering the real change needed.

Reality Hits

Props to RabbitAir for listening, but today’s eco-scene demands more than open ears. Tossing my filter felt off, like we’re skipping vital green steps.

What’s Next?

Speak up, for one. Brands listen when eco-voices unite. Support the real green movers too; they’re on the frontlines.

Just a Bend, Not the End

The RabbitAir chat wasn’t what I hoped, yet it’s not a full stop. It’s fired up my green resolve even more. Join the green fight; it’s a long haul, but together, we’re mighty.

See ya on the eco-path …o/o

On this day in history, let’s dive into the eclectic and adventurous world of my blog, showcasing a variety of experiences and insights:

• 2023: Ideal day is one that you experience something for the first time
• 2021: Cabinets
• 2017: Team MoBill Part 3 – Green Goggles
• 2016: Before the fall
• 2012: The beautiful workout
• 2010: Not So Bad
• 2006: Oh Discordia
• 2004: Cancer update [UPDATED]
• 2002: Montreal Misadventures: Snow, Spice, and Subterranean Shenanigans

Each entry presents a unique snapshot of my journey, offering a mix of personal reflections, eco-conscious endeavors, and the simple joy of first experiences.

Ah, Lake Como in Montana, not to be confused with its Italian namesake, though just as picturesque in a rugged, “I might need to yodel” kind of way. Mo and I decided it was the perfect spot for our latest adventure: camping out and tackling the trails on our fatbikes. While Mo ventured off to embrace her own journey around the lake, I had my sights set on a specific prize, the Tin Cup Overlook.

I met a group of friends, and after a heartfelt “Sorry, pals, but I’ve got bigger fish to fry today,” I was off. Solo. Just me, my fatbike, and a goal.

The thing about Tin Cup Overlook is that it’s kind of out there if it had snowed recently. In fact, it seemed like no one had ventured up there since, I don’t know, the last Ice Age? This wasn’t just a ride; it was an expedition. Imagine forging through snow, terrain that switched between “slightly challenging” and “are you kidding me?” with no warning.

But here’s the kicker, it was epic. There’s something about pushing through the uncharted, the untouched, that adds a flavor of victory you just can’t get from a well-worn path. By the time I reached the overlook, with muscles screaming and lungs burning, the view was more than a reward; it was a testament. A testament to the journey, the struggle, and the sheer stubbornness that got me there. Then as I returned found that others were doing the same. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. I like to get dramatic.

In the end, as always, the adventure proved itself to be epic and rewarding. Not just for the breathtaking views or the bragging rights, but for the reminder that sometimes, the best paths in life are the ones we forge ourselves, through deep snow and against all odds. And let me tell you, the stories Mo and I can tell around the campfire just got a whole lot more interesting.

On this day in history

• 2023: Winter Experience
• 2022: Route 1635 in Ordervill Utah
• 2021: Started 2021 Album
• 2021: The Pantry
• 2018: Drifter
• 2016: Pioneer
• 2012: Withdrawl
• 2007: The Weekend Oasis: Plans, Pivots, and Two-Wheeled Tales
• 2006: Cold Snap
• 2002: Back From Montreal
• 2002: Blog From Plattsburgh

Ah, Valentine’s Day, that annual spectacle of love and last-minute scrambles for meaningful gestures. It’s a day when even the most seasoned adventurers, like yours truly, can find themselves caught off guard, the calendar flipping to February 14th with all the subtlety of a snowball to the face. This year, in a twist that might have seemed inspired by a blend of cupid’s arrow and sheer procrastination, I embarked on what I’ve now dubbed “The Urban Legend.”

The quest was simple: navigate the maze of Missoula’s bike paths in a heroic bid to secure a token of affection for my partner in love and life, Mo (affectionately dubbed Snuggles). The journey, plotted with the precision of a treasure hunt, took me across the city’s arteries – from the bustling Reserve Street, around the historical bastion of Fort Missoula, and back via the serene Milwaukee Trail. Each pedal stroke was a line in a love letter written on the asphalt, a physical testament to the lengths (quite literally) one will go for love.

This Valentine’s vigil culminated at the Good Food Store, my modern-day X marks the spot, where I procured a card and a pint of Cardamon Ice Cream – an offering to Mo that was both sweet and, given my usual disdain for shopping, incredibly brave.

Presenting this last-ditch effort to Mo, I couldn’t help but reflect on the Valentines past, each a chapter in our ongoing adventure. From dreaming of home not as a place but a feeling with ‘Snuggles’ at its heart, to the snowy escapades in Pattee Canyon, and even the whimsical notion of biking through ghost towns – each year has been a testament to our evolving journey.

It’s curious how, on a day so often commercialized and scripted, our most genuine moments spring from the unscripted and the spontaneous. As I handed over the card and ice cream to Mo, I realized that the essence of Valentine’s Day, for us, has never been about grand gestures or expensive gifts. It’s in the shared laughter over ice cream that’s slightly too frozen, the warmth found in a hand-drawn card, and the love that grows not from what we give, but how we give of ourselves.

So here’s to Valentine’s Day – a reminder that love, much like the best adventures, isn’t found in the destination but in the journey. And if that journey involves a last-minute bike ride across town for cardamom ice cream, then all the better.

On this Valentines Day in history:

• 2023: Snuggles my valentine – A heartwarming reflection on the concept of a dream home, which is not a place but a feeling of comfort and love, found in the heart of ‘snuggles’.
• 2018: Good Crust – Celebrating the perfect conditions for fat biking in Bozeman, a newfound joy in February’s usually elusive crust, offering freedom on two wheels.
• 2017: Team MoBill Part 2 – The Investigation – The first in a series exploring the origins and adventures of Team MoBill, tracing back to cryptic posts and a story rooted in 2010.
• 2014: Meetup – A day filled with anticipation and preparation for a friend’s visit, likened to the excitement of a group ride.
• 2010: Half Ass – A day where plans fell through, leading to an unexpected dive into troubleshooting a Sports Tracks plugin.
• 2009: Ghost Town Idea – Proposing an adventurous bike ride through Montana’s ghost towns, combining history with the thrill of exploration.
• 2008: To Deer Creek and Back – An impromptu cycling and hiking adventure in Pattee Canyon, embracing the snowy landscape.
• 2008: Deer Creek Snow Sneak – Swapping traditional Valentine’s Day plans for a snowy bike ride up Deer Creek, seeking untouched trails and epic views.
• 2004: Mount Ellen Vermont – A solo venture into Mount Ellen’s wintry embrace, detailing a challenging hike amidst a Valentine’s Day whiteout.
• 2002: My Emotional Profile – A reflection on the quest for love and understanding, highlighting the importance of emotional connections and self-awareness.

Each post captures a moment in time, offering insights into my personal journeys, challenges, and the beauty of adventure. Enjoy delving into these snapshots of life’s rich tapestry.