About Heroes

 What Really Matters

If you're not from around here, it's likely you've not seen this spectacular site in person. That is a look up into Cold Water Canyon, above North Ogden. The flag (called "The Major"), is placed there by a group of volunteers every year for election day, through Veteran's Day. It is suspended by a large cable, from one side of the canyon to the other. The story behind the flag is truly inspiring and tragic. It is the true cost of freedom measured in one's own life. Without the details, it was started when a local man was killed overseas, serving our nation. It happened just after the election day of that year. He had written a article about the importance of voting, the respect for the process and how essential it is to our freedom - regardless of for whom, or how you may otherwise vote. It is not free...

The Crew...

I've shared this image before. It is very personal for me. A group of nineteen year olds, leaving for another mission - a raid if you will. An entire life ahead of them, and everything to live for, but willing to put it all on the line for the sake of freedom. Those guys all made it home and went on to live their lives. They are all gone now, but their dedication, willingness and courage live on in the freedom that was eventually preserved and won. Those big mitts manned those twin-fifties in the upper right hand side of the frame. They taught me how to shoot, and about everything else I needed to known to survive in my earlier life. The tall skinny kid was shoved into the tail, guarding from rear with a set of Brownings as well. I met him about thirty years ago - like meeting a legend you may have thought was only a myth. The flight engineer manned a set in the top turret, while the radio man doubled in the "waist gunner" spot. The other wait window gunner, ball gunner, pilot, co-pilot and nav are not in this picture. The ground crew chief is there in the middle - responsible for getting that bird off the ground and back home - still part of the crew all the same. I can't imagine what nineteen would be like in that world. I have the rest of the pictures that are equally important to me. In my office I don't keep any personal effects. I do have a picture of this bird in flight shortly after V-E day, flying a "blue-bomb" mission over Scotland. It serves as a constant reminder to me of how many paid a price along the way, for what we all take for granted today. No, none of them were perfect - far from it. But then, if we waited for perfection to grace us, and preserve the day.....it may be a long wait. I'll take the crew any day.

The Entire Crew without the officers - hardly menacing. 

Lessons learned too late to appreciate

There are heroes and survivors all around us, if we could only recognize them for what they truly are.  In this case, these guys all just wanted to go home and put the war behind them. When I was in junior high, we had a teacher that survived the concentration camps. He had still had the tattooed marking given him by his captors. He was a thin man, very unassuming. Nobody really knew his story, as I think he just wanted to put the war behind him as well. It wasn't until years later that I found out about his history. They are all gone now, but not in my own mind. The things I learned from all of them didn't set in until much later in my own life.  I am a fool. My riding buddy is a retired vet - something like forty years. A very good friend, a neighbor, served in Vietnam. He is suffering the effects of exposure to chemical agents while there, but he doesn't complain. A dear friend of mine told me recently of her dad that fought in the Navy. The family apparently hardly knew anything of his service, but only of his influence and example. You see, that is how it works.  These guys have been all around us, but we just don't appreciate the price they have paid - generally until it is too late. Well...better late than never, right? What is important is that we never forget our heroes - and they are all heroes to me.

More than  twenty years ago, I had the opportunity to meet a Marine (there is no such thing as a former Marine). It was all business, but right toward the end of our transaction, he made mention of something that tipped me off as to him being a Marine. When I inquired, he told me only of his unit, and only because I asked. He was certainly not volunteering anything. I commented that February 19th, 1945 was a big day for him, in which replied with some curiosity "how did you know that?". That was the initial invasion of Iwo Jima. He then started telling me of his experience - it just roll out. It was one of the most awesome, but humbling things I had experienced. He then abruptly stopped and said, he didn't understand why he was telling me any of this, as he had never even told his own family. He then proceeded to tell me even more of his experience on that island. He described in detail how his best friend was killed laying directly to his side as they tried to take shelter in the hot volcanic ash of the initial assault. And later how another fellow was killed just to his other side exactly the same way. A string of bullets skipped over him both times to take the person next to him. I will never forget how he told me he was scared to death from the day he shipped out of San Diego, until the day he got back to San Francisco in the end. I couldn't believe what he had shared with me - and particularly how personal it was. I never saw him again, nor can I remember his name. I will never forget him sharing that with me. I have been in the presence of legends!

So what does this have to do with riding? Nothing. Nothing at all. I pretend to be a hero and ride my bike - as if that is hard, or heroic. I know that defending the otherwise defenseless is necessary, but how can I ever measure up to such a tall standard? If I could only be a fraction of what any of these guys are, I'd be something.

Thanks to you that have had to fight and did so willingly. You are my heroes....

Here's to all my heroes - Click here

It's snowing................

Ahhhh, North Fork!

 What a difference a week makes

Living in North Fork does come with its....unique opportunities.  It is November and it is North Fork; hence, anything can happen at anytime.  Down the road less than a mile there is barely a slush.  Another mile down and the roads are wet.  Sure, the snow is sticking in the fields and yards, but up here, it is like an entirely different world. But it is the real North Fork after all (as opposed to the flat-landers that say they are in North Fork). That's also why I live here. I love North Fork.

This is likely the last pict from the overlook of this season.  This was taken at roughly the same relative time as the one directly above. It was certainly cold, but dry.  We really needed a week of a drizzling rain prior to the snow.  It is so dry, the snowpack will likely go straight into the ground next spring, leaving the run-off in a low condition. I've seen it dry all the way through the winter, and rain hard for the entire month of May to fill Pine View. That however is not ideal. All that aside, it has been a good year on the North Fork dirt.  I could only guess the number of times I road to the overlook. As I've looked back at the pictures from the season, it shows a tremendous contrast. Last spring was green and wet. Water in the Cole Canyon was wide and deep. The lower snow pack was gone early, but the stuff up top hung around for half the summer. We ran into snow when we went to Ben Lomond peak the last part of June. The trails for the past two months have been the driest I've seen them since they cut the single-track.  Far from the driest I've ever seen in North Fork - in my life time. '77 was by far the driest I had personally experienced in North Fork. The week of Christmas had so little snow, you could hike to Ben Lomond peak in regular boots. There was no snow at all that year. Contrast that with '87 when we had 40 some odd inches of snow a week before Thanksgiving. The point is, anything can happen, and we could be riding the trails again after a week of 60° weather. Whatever it is, there has been a ton of dirt riding this season. Covid aside, it's been a good year.

Relocating for the remainder

I'll likely start riding the Bonneville Shore Line Trail next week. I was hopeful I could get back into North Fork this past week, but commitments and the need to prepare for the storm kept that from happening. The Shore Line Trail is long, as it literally runs on the east bench from Willard to Weber Canyon. Some places are pretty technical, as there are a lot of rocks.  Several places can be worked through by simply staying in the service roads. It can be good riding in the spring and later fall - after the rattlers have gone in for the winter.  The stretch I ride most of the time is where I grew up. The snow burns off early there and attracts a lot of riders when it clears. It is kind of a mystical place, as it is so close to civilization, it's hard to image some of the things we found up there over the years. It is always kind of a home coming of sorts. I may try to ride Antelope Island before things go too far bad this winter.  I'm told there are some really good trails out there these days, but you have to pay to get on the island. I've also thought it may be different to put on some AW tires on the road bike and ride the Legacy Parkway, and try to stretch it to Camp Williams. Ummm.... maybe later in the winter.

Making a decision

I've got to decide what I'm doing next season - fairly soon. Leadville is the center of everything, and that is a huge commitment. This will require a strict training program beginning soon. A little feedback would be helpful. 

From '68 - A birthday song..... Click here

Ride HARD!

Riding into the Twilight

 

Using that extra hour

Ending daylight savings means two things; having an extra hour of sleep and earlier darkness.  So, I used my extra hour of "sleep" to get out early and ride into the light.  Darn cold, like 27°, so I dressed for the occasion - headlight and all. That image above makes it look much lighter than it really was.  That little dot is the moon dropping behind the Black Mountain and to the north of Willard Peak. 

The snow from last week is still around in a few places.  This image above is from Tuesday night.  This is the north descent, right off the top heading for the tight switchbacks. Spots of ice are a problem with these types of conditions and can easily catch you off guard. Kind of weird that you ride from ice to dust within only a few feet, but that's what it's been like this year. It has been very good riding despite the unusual conditions. 

Early morning shopping...

I take a lot of picts during my rides, more so in the offseason than during the busy time. A morning like today was unique, as the morning light is totally different than that of dusk. I regularly send picts to buddies "spanning the globe", as kind of a "whish you were here" type thing.  Maybe, it's more like, "don't you wish you were here?" type thing. Either way, I regularly share for various reasons, some more annoying than others. This morning was really a trip to find the picture of an appropriate sunrise, for one of the gang. Using my phone makes things easy, but it also has limitations.  So...riding along, looking for "that shot" became a bit consuming this morning, but at exactly the right time, things came together. That pic is a gift, and is a "one-off" thing.  Otherwise, it wouldn't be unique. It won't be posted, or let out anywhere else. As I've looked through all the pictures this past season, I often stop to think of each occasion. There are well over 140 pictures from this season alone, many have made it to a post.  Most will never go anywhere. The one from this morning will go one place and then be deleted. Some memories are better kept in ones mind than in print.  We tend to remember them they way we really want to remember them in the end.

Time alone

Heading out in the twilight with thermal gloves, fishing jacket and headlamp is not many people's idea of fun. To me, it's about being alone. For most of my life, I've found the time out in the field, either alone, or with my dog, the absolute best. Sure, I miss riding a ski lift with my friends, or sharing a road, or trail with buddies, but the times alone and away from others is priceless. I haven't had a dog for better than 20 years.  My last dog was a Yellow Lab.  A good nose and even temperament. The miles and hours with her were many. Back then, mountain bikes were nothing like today.  I took her on a couple rides with me, something I wouldn't do these days.  Riding the bike allows me to put a lot of distance down in a short period of time. Unless I intentionally stop and look around, I miss a lot of the view - which was never a problem with my dog. One of the last ventures I took with my lab was not a hunting trip, but rather an impromptu walk. One morning I needed to just get away, so I took the dog and my coyote rifle and headed up the backside to Ben Lomond peak. I think it was the middle of the week, but back then it didn't much matter as there was seldom anyone else up that way. On the way back down, I stopped at "the saddle" and sat in the tall grass; listening to the breeze while looking across the vast expanse of the Wasatch. I must have sat there for over an hour with not another person around. I don't think I ever chambered a round in the rifle that day, but rather used my long range scope to look at things a long ways away. I never needed an excuse to take that gun out for a long walk. Now days, I simply ride a bike and carry my cell phone. It still serves the same purpose. It's not what most people would consider fun. It's a good fit for me...

We'll see what this week brings, but local rides have to start before 4:00, or risk getting caught in the dark.  They should be closing the park tomorrow, making it more limited for most riders. Clients are starting to request projects and work, put-off earlier due to Covid - meaning less chance of getting home early enough for evening rides. Once the real snow hits, I'll be riding the Shoreline Trail on the other side of the mountain. That may be the case even before snow flies, as there is easily an extra 90 minutes of daylight down there, versus up here.

We'll see how this week pans-out.....

"Life is like a storybook story" but it's real... click here

Ride HARD!

The changing season(s)

 Good riding

The backside of Powder Mountain at dusk

From the top of Mules Ear Overlook, the evening shadows are moving up earlier by the day.  Some days have been warmer than others, but generally pretty cold once in the shadows of the evening.  Still, it has been good riding this fall.  There are a few die-hards I see, along with obvious tire tracks from earlier in the day, but most people are well gone before my ride. To say it is peaceful is a mild understatement. Most evenings I just like to get to the overlook and hang around for a while.  It's kind of what drives the decision to ride on most evenings. Getting down the single track in low light is a little sketchy, but manageable.  Another week of this schedule and we'll be off of Daylight Savings - and most local evening rides will be out of the question.

Up North

Heading out early does provide sufficient time for a jog up past Bicentennial trail. This is the old horse race trail from way back in the day when such a thing, was...... a thing.  Parts of this trail are very technical, as in full of roots and cuts. Not a lot of traffic over there, making it a very nice ride for the solace. This particular day I ran across a ton of Ruffed Grouse.  Not just one or two here and there, but huge coveys in several places.  I suppose that is an indication that is nobody out this way.  If you don't know where you're going, it can be a little spooky.  It's really no place to be by yourself anyway.  No cell service and a long walk out. You don't want to wreck out here.

I did manage to find a new trail just cut this past month, or so.  This rough-cut timber across the creek is kind of sketchy.  That drop into the drink is about seven feet. I'd guess the distance across to be just short of fifteen feet. No transition, and maybe a foot wide, you can only walk across with your front wheel on the timber. The connector on the east side is very steep and narrow.  Again, no place to venture without another person.  It does provide a nice view over Cutler from the top, but is not an easy climb for the average rider.  Too narrow and too much exposure to bomb it safely.

Snow again, but very cold....

Today was supposed to be a good afternoon ride opportunity.  A dusting of snow last night really didn't do much, but the daytime high temperature was only 29°F. I had considered going out, as the cold doesn't bother me - if I'm prepared.  Knowing that some of the areas would likely be glazed over with ice was the deciding factor.  This type of riding makes for very slow and overly cautious descents.  At that, it kind of takes the fun out of a ride.  The forecast is calling for warmer temps this week, but we'll have to see what is in store.  They will be closing the gates in about a week, then we'll have the park all to ourselves - until the real snow hits.  Any rides after about 4 o'clock will be too late to get back before dark.  Kind of funny how fast the light is lost this time of year.  Still my favorite time of year and I love being in the out of doors during this season.

2021 Season

I've received an official notice from Leadville.  They are still honoring the voluntary deferment.  As a matter of fact, they are offering def's into 2022 and 2023. I think next year will be the one for me, but this will take a ton of planning and commitment. I've always wanted to do it, but it will be a huge effort on my part to be ready.  I have a lot to sort through before committing either way, but if not 2021, it simply will never happen. This could get serious very quickly.  Who's up for a challenge?  More about this later....

Ah yes... The Budokan! "We're all alright!"

Ride HARD!

A little reflection

 Bridging.....

There are times when you have to simply do something, anything, to stay on course.  The problem is, that course isn't always clear. That is what typically becomes of "the off-season".  Ah yes, that "off-season" thing again.  Truth is, we all have our off-seasons, just in unique variations.  When I was in high school and college, that period was typically between sports, or other recreational activities. During these times, we'd always have something to occupy our days - mostly focusing on something over that horizon, which was the "purpose".  As time rolled along, those "things" ceased to exist. Without something to drive toward, many would simply loose their way and drift into.....some other crap that just wasn't part of the plan. Still, doing something just for the sake of "doing it" can be kind of senseless, or at least appear to be so.  At some point I know I lost track of what was really important to me, or so it seems now.  The things we have to learn the hard way...

A true giant of a man....

I recently ran across a picture from June 1979 - yes, in the previous century. I was at national football camp, with kids from all over the country.  I could write volumes about that experience, but this picture was something.  I distinctly remember the day it was taken. As camp participants, we had our individual pictures taken with Randy Gradishar, Haven Moses, Phil Olsen and Jack Youngblood. At the time, none of knew the story behind Youngblood's experience the night before in the Cactus Club. Later that morning, just before session drills and practice, he addresses the entire group of about 300 "campers".  I remember thinking to myself, the wind wouldn't dare blow while that man was talking. It wasn't that he was this massive piece of humanity, rather he simply commanded.....whatever it is that he commands. It was a couple nights later I found out from our dorm floor adviser, who had picked-up Youngblood from the airport when he came into town, what had happened that night at the Cactus Club (nobody else had ever heard this story before). A few years later, when Youngblood retired, I read an article that mentioned that very event. Regardless of what you may read online, it happened in '79, and I was in the presence of that "god" the very next morning. Back to that picture; Olsen was staring intently at me, this screwy kid that thought "I was really something".  But there I was in the company of these four legends. That week I played with some truly talented guys, busted my nose again and learned a lot. Helluva good time. The kid in that picture was still in touch with reality and had a view of the future.  I had to stop and think what all had happened since that time, and why I may have otherwise lost my way. For the next several years, I trained myself, with absolutely no help from anyone else. Night after night, week after month ongoing, I would walk over to the high school football field, do my thing and return home - alone. Maybe it was because I didn't know any better. Perhaps I didn't have anything better to do with my time. One thing is for sure; it was a physical manifestation of who I was. Man, what that stupid kid just didn't know.

Everything to lose, a lot more to gain...

There is a kid from those days that was a great wrestler, baseball player and incredible artist that I've caught up with recently. Without describing the specifics, I can tell you he can't do anything like that anymore.  His body is a broken vessel of what it used to be. I lost track of him sometime in college, after he traded one of his detailed pencil drawing prints, in exchange for working on his snow skis.  I still have the print and had it matted and framed many years ago. As life happens, we went our separate ways - until ten months ago. Through this experience I have been left focusing on what we both were forty years ago.  His situation has nothing to do with any of his life's choice, it is simply the crappy luck of life's draw. With everything else that has been happening this past year, I've had to stop and look at things with a different perspective. Without a deadline like a race, or other pressing events, I could easily sit back and let life take over. I'm not willing to let that happen, but then again.... we've covered that "willingness" thing before, haven't we? I ride because I still can, and more so, it is a physical extension of who I am. That age thing is for someone else.

The riding this week was good.  Scratch that, it was great!  Five times up on the "Mule". Two nights ago, so cold I couldn't feel my face at the top - with sweat pouring out of my helmet.  I couldn't feel my fingers all the way home. It was GREAT!. The next night, I ran into a familiar face. Made me remember what life was really like back in those days. Tonight, I had planned to put in a few hours, but making some adjustments to the bike, limited my time to climbing "the Mule" again. The bike is running well.  The tires are fantastic. They do have a funny characteristic in the front in a specific condition - but great! I've noticed one place up top where I "washed-out" back in July, has become spot where several people have crashed.  There is a big hole in the brush where a lot of riders have completely missed the turn.  At least I stayed on the single track when I bought it.  Tonight was totally empty of anyone else on the mountain. The pic above is where I both catch the single track (behind me in this image), and where I get off.  One big loop.  From here, I'm less than five minutes from my garage. It is here where I can check my daily cares at the trailhead going up.  If I ride fast enough going home, they won't catch me until after I'm in the garage. Beat that...

Click here for "Clear as the Driven Snow" the Bros

Ride HARD! (while you can)

Already going south.......

Planning - a bit over rated?

As things typically tend to do, schedules and commitments pretty much got in the way all week.  A pretty good rain storm last night knocked down all the dust on the trails, with a few pools still around this afternoon.  Even at that, I still only had time to get out for a very short ride before heading back home.  The leaves are mostly gone, with no shade in the usual places.  A ton of leaves covering several stretches.  With temps into the low 30's, maybe upper 20's tonight, there will be some areas that will have frozen surfaces the rest of the season.  Those can be sketchy (refer to the Ben Lomond ride a few years ago).

This afternoon's short ride seemed very "forced".  Dealing with a ton of issues on pretty much every front at the moment, really makes it had to clear my mind.  Hopefully things will be a little better tomorrow.  That link from Rapha on the previous post pretty much tells it like it is; it is my time alone.  I don't ride with others often, in fact seldom do I do so.  This time of year is different from the summer.  When possible, I prefer to take the longer, more remote rides and spend time alone in the "fresh air".  Some of this can be a little dangerous, as there may be no cell service and may not see anyone else for hours. There are times when you just have to "check-out" for a while.  I'll have to see what I can do to get to that point tomorrow afternoon.

This is how it usually starts......

A missed ride, skipping a few indoor sessions, no personal discipline.....this is where the offseason can go wrong quickly.  There isn't supposed to be an off season this year, but I think that gets said nearly every year.  Truth is, I'd better get a few goals in place soon, or forget about Leadville, or anything else concerning next season for that matter.  I'm already feeling the effects of limited hours, as the simplest climbs seem to arrive at a higher cost.

Perhaps a good half day ride over to Porcupine, or a trip to the top of Ben Lomond will set things straight.  It is getting kind of late, at there was snow at about 7.500 feet this morning.  Definitely not going over the top this late in the year, but maybe something a little different.  Stick around........

The last track from that '79 release - Click here for Triumph

Ride HARD!

Just riding...just because

 Getting away

Now that the season has transitioned to only dirt rides, things have a different "flavor".  I still ride a lot of the same training trails, but not nearly as hard. I actually take time to enjoy the trail, and maybe talk to a few people along the way.

Riding has always given me the space and clarity to think things over in my mind.  Occasionally I'll sort through some technical problems - not really doing the "finite element" stuff, but figuring out how to setup a problem, applying the science and math later. It' amazing how clear things can be when on the bike for a while.  

There was a time when road riding could do this, and it generally still does - to some level.  Riding the dirt just takes it all away.  No traffic and occasionally other riders and hikers.  Taking time to stop and look around really sets it all straight.  The fact that this is all in my backyard just makes it that much more...…awesome.  

I've been taking the time to ride up north into the Bicentennial trail area after climbing the Mule.  This is the oldest single track in North Fork, aside from the old forest service trails up to Ben Lomond.  The name comes from the era of which the first trail was cut - 1976; The Bicentennial. Parts of the trail still don't get a ton of traffic, but enough to keep the over-growth in check. The days are getting much shorter and the time more limited. It won't be long and I'll be riding on the other side of the mountain for a while.  For now, I'll keep soaking it up, one ride at a time.  Oh, and right out of my garage at that....it sucks to be me sometimes.

Something from Rapha that explains we curious cyclists....

Ride HARD!