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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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

Every spring we take a drive to Yellowstone Park and ride our bikes up from Tower Junction. Last April we did it again.

Tower falls

Snuggles and Cuddles at Tower Falls

Yellowstone River I Think

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

About a year ago we decided that if we were going to get into the most popular rental in the Gallatin then we needed to grab whatever weekend we could. So for a couple nights when a new block of dates became available I was there to hit the reserve button. Finally I got one.

“GOT IT”

“When did we get it for?”

“The 7th through the 9th … in April … wow, that is right after my birthday”

“Cool, it will be your birthday celebration …”

Thursday night after work I arrived to a house strewn with gear. There was a little bit of excitement because neither one of us had spent the night in a fire tower.

I tried to back in the day. With my friend Paul and my dog Marcy. A late night thunder storm killed the chance of making it through the night and we bailed. This week I could finally do it.

The plan was to hike up with backpacks and snow shoes. It had been super dry and I didn’t even expect to see a lot of snow. We brought along our bikes just in case.  This was a good idea. When we got to the gate … wait … A GATE?

Yea, a gate. We had to hike 3 miles down the road to the trailhead. We pulled out our bikes and loaded them up. The new plan was to bike to the trail head and make a decision. Bike all the way up the snowmobile route for 12 miles or stash the bikes and hike the 3000 vertical feet to the tower. The sky started to darken as we rode down the road to the trailhead.

“Well what do you think”, I inquired as I peered up the dry trail. Mo pulled up to me and gave no hesitation.

“I would be into trying to climb it on the bikes”.

“Really?”

Next thing we know we got into the rhythm and the challenge of riding the entire way up the trail. Turns out it was dry and if we could just muster some endurance we might just possibly ride the entire thing. Almost! With maybe a little titch of walking near the top we finally did crest this mountain and stood peering at the tower.

Remnants of snow

Mo finishes the climb strong

A view from inside the lookout

Out the window

Looking back down to Gallatin Gateway

Our ridge

Just then all hell broke loose …o/o

I awoke just like so many times here in Bozeman. So so many times. In fact … almost every time. It always happens like this. I go to bed after a nice day of riding and have spring visions dancing in my head. But then waking to fresh white stuff on the ground with temps 30 degrees cooler. Seems like every other day this year. So frustrating.

I slowly packed my gear and weened myself off from a nice toasty stove. I cleaned out the cabin and removed the old ashes. Chopped some firewood and stocked up the abode.  Actually took a while doing it alone. Another benefit of a partner … right?

But then I go to work tomorrow and really, who gives a shit that it is cold with crap on the ground. Or mother nature could be cruel and it will be 70 tomorrow. Either way I soaked up the ride home.

What does one do when the partner has taken off gallivanting to Missoula. And leaving them car-less on a weekend? Well, I don’t really know what others do but I know what I do. Rent a Forest Service cabin and bike to it.

I picked Window Rock Cabin. I packaged up some frozen brats and coffee and headed up Hyalite Canyon. The road approach to the closed section is 10 miles from home and then from there another 10 to dirt. I took as many bike paths as possible to reach the closed section. Then I was set free to roam the road and ride in peace.

Did I mention that since it is April the Hyalite road is closed to motorized traffic. Perfect … right? And then I lucked out and picked the only sunny and nice day Bozeman would have for a month too. As I write this a blizzard has hit and the ride this morning was all snow and slush. Could this have been Bozeman’s summer?  Wow, that was short.

The route to the cabin was super easy too. Everything had melted off and dry. A total departure from years past. And something else new … a different stove. We have been avoiding this cabin due to its broken one which instead of heating would just turn the place into a large smoker. Not this time. This was going to be a blast.

I immediately got a fire raging and made sure I would be all set with that before turning down the draft for the long haul burn. I really didn’t need heat at this point but it would be nice to show up after the afternoon outing. Then a quick unpack before setting out for the afternoon adventure.

Again the roads were in fantastic shape. Really weird for early season Hyalite. Continuing up the valley I did finally find some packed ice and snow to fat bike on. I made my way up the Hyalite trail. It was different somehow.

They must of reworked the trail because I found my way to Grotto Falls for the first time ever. This is where I started to miss my adventure partner. As a side note I highly recommend one. It really makes the adventure when you have someone to share it with. Otherwise it is just kind of dull and full of thinking to ones self.

Back at the cabin I cooked some brats in the new stove and laid down to let it all digest.  I actually passed out for a few. Upon waking I thought I better go on a walkabout and see how much bare ground I could discover.

Turns out … a lot. As the sun finally settled on this very long day I settled in on a bit of sleep. Far away from WiFi and human inflammation.  I slumbered into recovery land. Alone, car-less, on a weekend …o/o

The three amigos took Cruzie out for a shakedown at Pipestone. It went pretty well. They found some dirt. They found out it climbs like a 90-year-old but goes down the hill like a cheetah. Can someone tell me what the hell a ‘dropper post’ is for? Besides making things more complex and getting into a tuck. And why ‘Cruzie’ for a name? The narrator couldn’t figure out a name, so Mo started calling it that, and now it is sticking. Plus, they needed to put something on the birth certificate.

9 months ago we hinted at some future plans. Then December 7th there was a confirmation. I may have leaked it in a Facebook post, I don’t know. New adventures perhaps?

Today we travel to a destination that completes this process. We are hopeful that it is possible that we pick up a new edition to the family.  I watch the sun come up from a ridge and wonder about names. Wonder about the care and if I will be able to handle it. Wonder about the new adventures. Then I bust down the trail as fast as I can.

A fortnight back, we sauntered back from the 2017 Togwotee Winter Classic, still buzzing from the chill. Feast your eyes, tune your ears, and buckle up for what’s coming next. Drumroll, please… Major reveal at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Stay tuned, folks!

This is our 5th trip to Togwotee Pass for the annual Togwotee Winter Classic. I felt ok but did not know if we were going to race or not. Mo was the sickest still but we trudged on because it is what we do. Trudging all the way to Lava Mountain Lodge. Nice to be home.

I woke up sick but pushed through some pull-ups and chopping firewood. Mo was doing better now so getting out should be no issue. Sickness … ha … makes me think of that marriage vow sentence, “And in sickness and in health”. What the hell? I remember always thinking that if someone got sick then screw them, I was outta there. If I got sick I wouldn’t want the one I care about to be dragged down too. Anyway back to the thought.

And it wasn’t, issues with getting out that is. The route along with all the climbing does require a certain amount of fitness. Specially fatbikepacking! So I guess one could say we are healthy enough to make it back to the vehicle. So yea, we are healthy too.

Another great trip in the bag. In sickness … and in health.

On this day in history, Back in the mystical land of ’04, I found myself perched on the edge of destiny, with the “2004 EFTA Race Schedule” in hand. Picture me, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to etch my name onto the unforgiving terrain of cycling lore..

I can remember as far back as the early 90’s where I would ride my mountain bike on snowmobile trails. Back then it was screws in tires and hefty strips of plastic to keep them from puncturing the tube. It was effective although I remember a ton of bruises on elbows and knees from going down on the ice.

As far as documented proof I can only come up with these 2011 images I suppose. But the technology never changed. Still had screw tires and walking was the norm.

Now my life is all about fat bikes. What a revolution that was. Wouldn’t mind going back … with my fat bike that is.

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY

let’s take a stroll down memory lane with my captivating(lol) posts!

• 2016: Padre Canyon
• 2015: 2015 So Far
• 2014: Buck Ridge Incident
• 2012: Looking inward
• 2011: Out with Jill
• 2010: Reset
• 2008: Back Home
• 2007: After A Ride
• 2003: Evening Hike

This time of year there is no urge to take a photo of anything. I usually don’t have much to talk about. We get snow. It starts to melt. People make ruts and post holes. It freezes. Then riding a bike is like a jack hammer. Rinse and repeat. No vacation. Just going to work every day.

California Street Bridge I think it is called … I may be wrong

Commuting in Missoula the Leader I named Lolo

Commuting in Missoula

Much like 6 years ago today in Missoula. But then I found plenty to take photos of. A much more mild climate in Missoula there were challenges. Like ice and wholesale yard sale crashes. But I did manage to take some photos of the commute.

I am thankful for the fat bike though … maybe I will stop and get some photos and stop bitching.

Makin Coffee

Color cycles

Cabin nights are dependent on the quality of the stove it has. If it is a broken piece of shit then I will be up every two hours to throw another log or two in. A quality stove will last the night. So far one cabin takes that honor, the Calf Creek Cabin. The Horse Prairie Cabin is a one wake up cabin. I need to get up around 4ish to re-stoke it. That is pretty good.

Sunrise from the business palace

Wood

Hang

After a late night of playing Clue the only wakeup this time was around happened at 7. By the time I went out to do some business and get back I figure I might as well stay up for the sunrise.

From the corner

So I made some coffee and that led to another Bathroom call. All of which was a great time to take my camera and snap a couple images.

The sun hitting the icicles from the roof

It turns out I had a pretty action packed morning. Running inside to grab some gloves and head out the front to get some icicle shots. Then back to the fence to grabs some more. And then back in to make snuggles a coffee. Then jolting out back for a pastel shot.

Pastels

Busy morning at the Horse Prairie Guard Station.

What is the color of cold. I usually think it is black and white. Maybe the brain shuts down all unnecessary ‘extras’. Much like the hands and feet getting cold because the body is saving the warm red oxygen river for the core.

Snuggles spent some quality time working on a puzzle.

On a return trip from the “little house’ I stopped to appreciate the colors

Pastels … right?

But tonight I saw colors. A puzzle has many colors, which I figure is the game itself right? I stepped outside of the warm cabin and into the negative temperatures. I had a job to do. And I did ‘that’ job quickly. As I was about to run back to the safety of the cabin I was stopped in my tracks. Colors! Yes colors. Cold does have colors. Pastels of deep blue and a rose color. The browns of the cabin stood out as well. I never seen so many beautiful colors.