How did it all start? And why didn’t I blog about it back in 2011? Most knew something was up but my posts were cryptic.
Adventure Cycling Party
This story actually has roots in 2010. I was at the Adventure Cycling holiday party as a guest of my friend Jill. I notice this cool character who was doing the Micheal Jackson moonwalk. And rather good at that. I was impressed at how she seemed to be the life of the party. I didn’t have the guts or even more importantly not rehearsed any run-ins with someone as attractive. After that I kind of lost track and eventually got caught up in other things. Like the championship table tennis match … which we lost.
Julie, Norman, and Lydia
So REALLY this story officially starts in 2011 during an outing with my friends up Welcome Creek. A 5 mile snowshoe outting which is detailed in the post. It was after we were back at the car that the subject of closer relationships came up. Maybe the group got me out there to get over my depression of losing a dear friend who was planning a move out of town.
Goal
All of us except Julie were technically single I believe. But I was targeted for some reason, or I must of reeked of loneliness. Maybe I was just finishing off my speech of who would be the perfect fantasy partner for myself. Or maybe Julie was just doing her magic, and connected with my strange wit and humor that lead to an idea. No matter the reason, this was the event that put into motion a string of events that started what is now referred to as Team MoBill.
The group shoeing across the snowy scree
“Oh my god I just realized who you should meet”, Julie blurted out. “I don’t know why I never thought of this before but there is this person … quirky like you … really loves to ride her bike …”
“What? who?” … “Rides a lot?”
“Mo, yeah, you are so much alike. You should meet!”
2011 started out so tough. It was so hard and scary at times that it was hard to recognize opportunity. Pure survival. The last thing on my mind was “a girl”. The only thing I could do to keep my mind off things was to train, and train hard. During this time my best friend, who I had a huge crush on, left town. Then I had a bad situation, a sewage flood and subsequent blaming of me, with my landlord. That resulted in a midnight extraction and move to another apartment. Bundle that with a really tough situation at work where my boss turned psycho. All of this putting me in a “I hate Missoula” mood.
Missoula Morning
But Missoula was not my problem. A beautiful town with beautiful friends that I took all for granted. At this point, if this were a movie, the assumption the boy meet girls is forgotten.
Training Intervals
It was survival time and I had to survive. I continued on and do what I did best. Race hard and win when I could. Empty heart and empty town was my window into the world. The January suggestion was all but forgotten.
Missoula scene
I couldn’t sleep, and for once it was not about all the bad things happening. I found a new apartment and things started to look up. I even had a job opportunity, although in Bozeman. No, I couldn’t sleep. Then it hit me. I was wondering about the suggestion that Julie had made a couple months ago. Was this person she was talking about the very same person I remember doing the MJ Moon Walk.
Sunset
I went to the inter webs to get more details. I went to Facebook and sent a message to Julie. I didn’t want to seem like I was interested … but I was. I gently asked for details. Then I got a reply.
Wow, I was wondering if you remembered.
Oh yea, I did, I internally realized. But I wasn’t going to let on that I was up all night rendering the suggestion in my head. I needed more intel. I wondered if we should just start using code names since I was going to suggest maybe being a team of stockers. I mean intelligence gatherers. Ok, yea, stalkers.
My informant assured me that the subject checked out and I was given a couple resources to review. A couple blog posts, and maybe a staff photo or two. With this intel my assumption was confirmed … the subject was indeed the “moon-walker”.
I reported back with some intel of my own. A USA cycling profile. A racer. A cyclocross racer. This was exciting.
You are a good detective. I’ll see if I can talk her into joining us on a hike then give you a heads up…
Hold on, whoa. Huge excitement, sure, then dread. I mean I am not the prince of social situations. Some call quirky, or akward. And that is where we leave it … with a huge foreshadow.
I just pulled Betty off of my bike rack and was getting ready for the Thursday Night Ride. Being it was May 12th we were finally on dirt. I was fresh off an adventure race win and feeling like a superhero. I had a secret weapon too. My green goggles.
Night Vision
I had two weeks before my 24 hour race in Spokane. I came up with this idea to limit my view while riding in the daylight to train for night riding. You know, because at night you are just able to see where your lights shine. Anyway that was my plan for tonight. I would wear my green goggles. This was my last chance to practice because I was on the edge of a taper period. I strapped them on and looked around.
“Are you going to wear THOSE?”, the voice seemed agitated. I swiveled around to come face to face with my friend Julie.
“Yea … because I want to …”, is all I got out before she swiveled around and stomped off. Wondering what was up with her I joined the group. We were doing a local trail called Sidewinder. To get to the top of it we climbed up fire roads. It seems this was perfect to ride up to someone and chat.
Norman and I pose for a pic
“So where is your mother ship”, I heard a voice to my right. I squinted hard to make sure I was seeing what I thought I saw. It was the moon-walker.
“um …”, I struggled with an explanation. Then I decided to just come clean, “I am training for a 24 hour race and want to get ready for night riding. These goggles limit my vision so I can get ready to go fast at night.” I was hoping that had covered it. There might have been an “OK” plus some chit chat. I basically blacked out for around 10 minutes.
It was her … the moon-walker commonly known as Mo. And I didn’t want to bug, or ride with, her all night so as to not give away Julie’s plan. The gravity of the night started to sink in. That was it. My first chance to make a first impression. Short and sweet. And as a bonus, my worst introduction ever.
And what about Julie? I know understood why she was so pissed at me. I later confirmed with her that indeed the night was set up. And I brought my madness. Seems I was destined to always be solo.
“Well, if anything does happen, she saw my worst”, I told everyone later at the pizza get-together. Mo didn’t attend … probably a bad sign.
I distanced myself more and more from Missoula touting it as a lonely place. Even though I had numerous friendships. I was just feeling sorry for myself and leaving town when I could.
When I was home I would blog about my adventures with embedded messages that said, “help I am lonely”. Embedded because I always cherished my solo lifestyle. I didn’t really understand what was going on.
This long ridge looks like it belongs in Oregon or Clifornia
After one such big adventure into Idaho I stopped by the Orange Street Market for some fake bacon. At the time I was unaware that real bacon was good for you. But continuing on with this story I spotted a familiar face. This person did not spot me and before she could escape I yelled out her name, “Mo”! I waived.
Long climbs is where my heart is
What do I say? What do I say? I talked about my recent adventure complete with photos from a iPhone.
“Wow, that is cool”, she said and I glistened with pride. I felt like a grade schooler showing my crayon drawing to the teacher.
And that was it. That is all I had. Sure I had plenty of questions. But my mind was jumbled. It was all I could do to walk one isle to discuss what I was there for. I grabbed my bacon and ran. I would learn later that I grabbed turkey bacon and that was not a great impression.
Getting Lost
The biggest joy, when I did find it, was riding with my Thursday Night Family. Specially when Mo would show up on her cross bike. This person was so cool. She could ride that cross bike anywhere the group would go. I avoided taking photos because I didn’t want to come off creepy. But then when I stopped for photos of the group going through something like say a creek. And she just happened to be coming by.
Mo joined us on numerous TNR rides
But, if your trying to impress someone don’t just take photos of when they fail. Mo misjudged a creek crossing and put her foot down. What mountain bikers call a dabble. Darn, just when I thought I would capture her greatness on a bike.
In numerous Thursday night rides we started to chat more and I was trying to figure out a way to show her I was interested. For instance one of my greatest moves was to suggest she partake in the after ride social that TNR is famous for. She agreed one time and I think it was because it involved ice cream. A person after my own heart.
At said ice cream gathering I popped the question.
“So you know Josh, right? Well he is having a party. Did you hear about that?”, I stumbled to get out a cohesive question. They both worked at Adventure Cycling and I knew they might already now each other.
“I am not sure, I don’t think so … that sounds fun”
I quickly blurted, “wanna go?”
“I am not sure, I’ll check my calendar … maybe”
So I gave her the details and we all dissolved back into our lives. I never went to parties. By by damn, I was going to this one.
I emailed Josh about his shin-dig and let him know I asked one of the TNR folks if they wanted to go and if that was OK. I was told that she got an initial invite but never replied. Just doing my part to bring people together … right? That felt awkward.
At the BBQ I tried to blend in. Social gatherings made me feel quite odd. I grabbed a beer and joined in on a hula hoop contest. I destroyed it. As everyone walked away from my display of endurance whooping I noticed that Mo had indeed shown up.
Again she seemed to be greatly adored by everyone and a jewel of the party. Just like the previous year demonstrating that moonwalk at the holiday party. She engaged in smart conversation and quick puns. Everyone enjoyed her company.
I found three main instances where I inserted myself into the Mo experience. Once to show a video of my friend playing drums, again with that damn iPhone.
I attempted to talk her into a weekend of riding in the Bitterroot Valley. I was immediately questioned about what time in the morning this be. I suggested a modest 8 am and was told, “good luck with that”. I didn’t press on this issue.
Then with some beer induced conversation about how I should read poetry at my next solo 24 hour race, you know, to pass time. I agreed to do that. And the party dissolved. I went home and thought about missed opportunities. The next day I rode all day in the Bitterroot.
Fresh off a win in Spokane …
I never read poetry at the Spokane race. I got so caught up in winning it that I forgot. Then I won another race in Rapeljie. And of course my good luck rolled into a new Job in Bozeman. Life was looking up. Opportunities abound.
My TNR family threw me a going away party on top of Sentinel. As the toasts were given I did not show a lot of holding back the tear endurance. I started to realize what I was leaving behind and how much I actually was a part of people’s lives here. Was I making a mistake?
Really regretting taking a job in another town at this point
And Mo was there. I found some time to catch up on her adventures and the news that she was buying a new mountain bike. I talked merits of full suspension and gave some advice. She told me about places to go in Bozeman that were cool. As I walked with Lydia back down to the trailhead Mo stopped by on her cross bike.
“Just wanted to say goodbye”, she said and then rode down the hills.
I turned to Lydia, “Am I making a mistake”?
She didn’t answer.
Seriously though, what WAS I doing? Why was I running away from the very town that gave me so much happiness. Too late now. I needed to grow up and get that good job. Make some money. Pay off some bills. And focus on the new opportunity.
And I moved. Just like that my interests in Missoula banished. The new life was in front of me. But first, one more stop at the Bridge Pizza. To get my favorite slice. And wouldn’t you know it? I ran into Mo again … moments before leaving town. I flagged her down for some small talk. Then I drove away with tears welling up in my eyes. And it started to rain. It felt more like a funeral.
As I leave Missoula there were signs that I was making a great mistake
I sent out the usual weekend adventure bait to friends. I was looking for an adventure with someone. Norman was the first to reply and mentioned a back pack trip with Lydia and Mo. I was messaging my friend Lydia when it came to my attention that there was a backpack trip planned with Norman and Mo. I calmly got the logistics. It seemed impossible to join them. The biggest concern was that I could not take Friday off with such short notice. Also there was the distance from Bozeman. I inquired for more details and mentioned that I wanted to try and catch up.
Seemed absurd to chase friends through the Swan Range with the possibility to never catch them. Specially since they were doing a vague loop. I could go backwards and intercept but that seemed less likely to work. I remember what a good friend once said, “Even if it is impossible, that does not mean you shouldn’t try”. So Friday after work the plan went into action.
Helmville Lake on my way to the trailhead
I guess by now it was obvious that the goal was to ambush their trip and get one more chance to see Mo. I was in settling into my new life. The possibilities seemed endless. Good job. More money. I could finally buy bike stuff without begging and needing sponsorship. But this trip re kindled something. A desire to see Mo. I just had to, one more time.
It was like a 24 hour race. Staying up all night and hiking by headlamp. Trying to keep the sleep monsters at bay. At the very least I wanted to impress these folks. And I finally did find where they were camping. The plan worked and I quietly set up my tent near.
The next morning I told stories of grizzly encounters the night before … or was it a moose snorting near my head? I got antsy and took a hike down to a waterfall, then returned. Still no Mo. Made breakfast, still only two companions. I didn’t want to tip off why I was there, so I never inquired. Suddenly my heart dropped. Oh no, assuming the worst … she bailed on the trip. I was just about to ask.
Suddenly one of the tents made a sound. Then started to shake. A zipper went up and Mo popped her head out. Good morning she proclaimed. My god, I thought to myself, it was more like noon. How could someone sleep so long?
I was overjoyed to see her but our conversation escapes me. Something like, “Wow, you don’t look so bad in the morning”. Wow, big fail. I can’t remember the rest of the morning. I hope none of it was inappropriate. No matter, thankfully I did not goofball myself out of the opportunity.
The hike to Necklace Lakes was mostly chatting with Lydia as Norman seemed content to stay back with Mo and get into deep conversations. I mean good on him, I was no good with this kind of thing. I spoke Lydia’s language. Mostly discussing an extra hike that afternoon and keeping the chit chat to a minimum. I was always talking about extra mileage, going the extra distance, blah blah blah.
But there were times we did connect, Mo and I. Well from my perspective anyway. Spontaneous play broke out and everyone knows I am pretty good at that. Like the ability to make snow persons and engage in a snow slide competition. Or how long can one stay in a frigid mountain lake before succumbing to hypothermia. My favorite moment was starring into the lake for hours marveling at the life on the bottom.
The next day I was up early and knowing everyone’s morning routine, specially Mo’s, I went for a hike. And I needed to do a hike that would impress all. Heck why not go straight up to the ridge and get photos of the sunrise. And to make it appear super human do it in a hour. Then brag about it. Big show off.
The hike out was just like the hike in. Lydia and I seemed to be in a hurry, me to put in the dominating physical effort, Lydia, well I think she wanted to get it all over with. The hike was strenuous but soon we were on Holland Lake with Cold Smokes in our hands. I started to panic. It was all over. And now what? I bucked for a meetup in town for a burger.
We gathered in Seeley Lake and after burgers were standing in the parking lot saying our good byes. This is it I figured. One last adventure. Maybe the last time I would see Mo.
I turned to get back into my beetle and to drive off. Yea, the ambush was a success, sure. But I didn’t put anything on the line. I didn’t ask her what I really wanted to. Like … can I see you again? ARGH!
“MO”, I called out as I turned back towards the group. I had no clue what I was going to do. I stumbled for words.
“Yea”
“You must contact me … promise me … we must chat again”, was all I could come up with.
It was now August 20th, 2011 and I still felt that I never got out for an epic all day rides. All week I thinking about the weekend before. Mid week I blogged about a new love to vaguely expose my feelings. And with every good turmoil in my life I did what I always did. Go on a bike-pout.
Heather Lakes
I embarked on a 66 mile adventure into the back country to journey into my feelings. And it turned out to be an amazing one at that. I was about home when my phone alerted me to a text. Curious I pulled out my phone to glance at the screen. A message from a number that I didn’t recognize.
Remember me … This is M…
I leaned into the curb by accident and crashed into the grass at the side of the road. I scrambled for my phone and started to reply, “Hey, I d……”, ARGH! The phone had died. The battery was dead. I mean, my luck right? I didn’t even get to read the rest of the message. Shit … was it Mo?
In the 2.5 seconds it took me to warp speed back I devised a plan. I rode home and plugged in my phone. Then and waited for it to boot, got the number, and went to my Google Voice account to send a text. I paused to wonder what should I say? I debated for about 5 minutes on how to open.
Bill M here. Using my other number. Hey you still up? I just got your text.
An eternity passed and to ease the butterflies I fixed supper. I thought about all the scenarios and what I would say. Then I remembered a message from my friend Lydia who said she was coming to Bozeman to visit her friend. If there was a way to bring Mo to Bozeman. Maybe another backpack trip. That’s it. The phone alerted me to another text message.
… crazy over here, watching buffy, doin laundry …
It was Mo, you know, chit chat to get things rolling. I decided enough was enough. I needed to pull on my big boy pants and really go for it.
… Hey i got a question …
I thought to myself that maybe her phone would die and I wouldn’t have to ask … my hand hovered over the cancel button. I thought I should run. Wow, this is a big mistake. What am I doing?
… I might have an answer
Oh boy … here we go!
… I got a email that Lydia is visiting her friend here in bozone. Would you consider a adventurous weekend in Boz
She was in. And I couldn’t believe I pulled it all off. The first adventure with Mo unsupported. Then the weekend could not come fast enough and I found myself getting out every day after work. Trying to pass the time. I even blogged a post hinting to everyone that something was up. Soon the weekend did come and Mo arrived via Lydia shuttle to Bozeman.
September I never blogged. Because I couldn’t. Something was developing and I did not want to ruin it. So finally now I present the trip in images. They tell a story. A story how I found a new adventure partner. Even if we lived 250 miles apart and it seemed impossible to take it much further. But then again, “Even if it is impossible, that does not mean you shouldn’t try”.
It was agreed that we should meet up for adventures on the weekends. For me I traveled every weekend to either race or ride somewhere so I was used to it. For Mo not so much. She was totally into adventure but trading a non work day to get up and travel was just not her cup of tea. I totally understood. But then every weekend she was up for something new.
It seems to me that we were training for sharing the adventures of life. To be on a team. Something I never considered. I mean I was solo right? Solo racer. Always solo. And more then myself Mo was a solo too. So each weekend was like training camp to be on some sort of a team.
My setup
After our first date we immediately concocted another adventure. And the adventure we choose was totally new to both of us. Bike packing. Not your cushy-bob-trailer-yawn-fest. No, this was hike-a-bike back-country stuff. When Mo told me she had a distain for traditional bike “touring” I was hooked. I involved a friend under the guise of a group trip. We arrived near Lima to embark on our first real bike pack.
Day one in the books we camped high on the Continental Divide. Mo’s adventure skills and tenacity on what would be discovered as her first mountain bike ride was tremendous. That night as we gazed into the night sky she started to point out Orion’s Belt. Without thinking I stole a kiss. A quick smooch on the cheek. She did not protest. I fell asleep in terror on the next step. A proper wet kiss. I vowed to never let it get that far. I was certain that I would totally botch it up.
The second day tested our mettle. There were long steep climbs and a big day ending push to a mountain lake. Even through it all our team building took another step. The wet kiss was delivered. A total success from what I remember. That milestone out of the way snuggling became a common practice. A bond forming through adventure.
As we approached the trail head on our third day I entered into another state of panic. Secretly I was falling for this person and almost past the point of turning back. If anything would go wrong there could be heartbreak. The bike pack was not only a success but I found new passions. Love for self supported mountain biking yes, of course. But I think I felt a bond with someone now. I wanted to be on her team. It was best to keep this to myself. On the way back to were we would split up a hand hold, a heart felt, don’t let go kind of hand hold.
It did not take long to come up with another adventure. A back pack with just us. It never occurred to either of us that we lived so far apart and spent the better part of weekends traveling. We just had this desire for the next adventure.
This time we were high in the Absaroka Range. Just the two of us adventuring and bonding with each step. That night our first brush with conflict. It seemed as though I had a different approach to fire building and when trying to micro manage her efforts I got a quick slap on the wrist. Like a puppy I retreated to a corner of camp and contemplated the lesson. I was learning to be on a team. Working together without trying to control.
We just kept getting closer and closer. And at the same time discovered boundaries. After this one each weekend melted into the next. Work weeks were spent gathering supplies and scheming. It was time for me to drive West and do my best to balance the driving. My motivation however was to partake in a friends event called M.E.S.S.S. or Missoula to Elk Summit Shit Show I think. Once in the event my motivation was to show Mo what I had been working on all my life. To go fast. Things went well and I crushed it.
As I approached the finish I couldn’t wait to see Mo. She would be so amazed, I was setting an event record. I finished and the only person there was Josh setting up a BBQ. Mo was still at a baby shower. Guess I did not send out the memo I was going to do it so fast. She did find her way to the finish however and I set forth to explain what a feat I had just endured.
That’s so cool snuggles
A phrase I have been tagged with ever since.
A finish line photo shows Cuddles and Snuggles together. Not because of my strong endurance effort but just supporting her teammate Snuggles. This endurance effort my last status as a Solo racer. The next day we decided to give a relationship a whirl. I was now on a team.
The finish line
Near the end of the summer our friend, who we call E.B., gave us our team name. MoBill as in Mobile. We were always mobile, or on the move. In another adventure. Yea, team MoBill. A life adventure team.
Boneshakerbike 