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Sunday, December 27, 2020

Final Post of 2020 - FINALLY!

 Putting it all behind us- Perspectives

The same place, same time of day - about 7 months later & in the snow.


What a year it has been.  But then again, why do we always delineate our lives by the beginning and end of years? Kind of funny how that happens; as if magically, January 1st erases everything and we get a fresh start. If it were only that way. The truth is we can't uncouple the past.  It is inextricably connected to us, no matter how far forward we may go. So....perhaps we should recognize the past for what it is and embrace what comes next with gusto (if that is even a word in today's lexicon). But here we are.  And all that may really have changed is our perspectives. Chalk it up to our life's experiences. What a ride it has been, and it isn't over by any means - yet!

Brothers and Sisters

The first post for this past season included a subheading called "Brothers". Being true to my methods, I don't use pictures, names, or descriptions of anyone as part of the storyline.  The picture....well, really  was not of the "brothers".  So who are these guys?  It's not that easy. Beside, it is truly brothers and sisters. Over the course of those formative years, I was in the mix with a unique group of kids.  At the time, I don't think any of us thought we were unique.  As time has gone along, it is truly the case. Some of the little jabs we gave each other, the pushing and support....maybe even a little competition between us. In the end, those were the little influences that made our character.  Sometimes a bit more feisty, while knowing where not to stick our noses. Then there were the sisters. One such particular was without a doubt one, the most athletic in our class. I always had tremendous respect for her as a competitor. She also ran with a group of what I would call "compasses". You know the ones. At the end of our sophomore year, she wrote in my year book, "you are the funniest, but laziest person I know". I'm certain it wasn't meant in a derogatory manner, but I never let that out of my head - to this day. Wanting to never be the person that cost us "the game", I worked my tail off. Knowing how hard others would have worked, made me want to work that much harder. Fact is, I needed to work harder than everyone else, just to stay up with them. I'm sure nobody else ever knew how much extra I had to put in, but that's not why I did it. I really couldn't stand the thought of letting any of them down. Believe it or not, that did happen. I doubt anyone else will ever remember, but I sure as hell will never forget. The next morning as I was waking up, on my radio I heard the score from our game the previous evening "19 - 18". I thought I would throw up. By our senior year, I had worked my guts out. By mid year, football behind us (most of us), I began to be complacent. Those others.... they excelled and became stars. Maybe I am lazy, but I don't think I ever let any of them down. I hope I never do let them down either. They are my brothers and sisters.

Two views of Ben Lomond

We are Scots and Lasses

That big rock is more than a landmark. It is my home. Ben Lomond was named by early settlers (Montgomery's) as it reminded them of the mountain near Loc Lomond in Scotland. As seen from my house, you can also see "THE Black Mountain", as in similar to "THE Black Island" in Scotland, in that same lake as well. When our high school first opened, it was already called "East Ogden High", the moniker being the Spikers and the colors being Black and Red. True to the spirit of what would become a lot of us, there was a push-back against the whole "East Ogden" thing. Rather, it was decided by the first student body to call it Ben Lomond, as the Scots/Lasses, and Tartan Plaid as the colors. I don't know that any of us knew it at the time, but we still had the same spirit. Sure it is just a high school, but for us...it was one with our character and pride. I make it a point to visit the Ben Lomond Peak annually. In recent years, it has become rather popular. As the entire Wasatch range runs directly north-south, Ben Lomond cuts abruptly to the west and then back again toward Willard Peak. It is easily noticeable well to the south, as well as from the north by air. When taking the eastern routes back from Detroit, or Minneapolis, we'd quite often cut right over the top. Over the past several years, I have lost far too many of my friends from here. Sure, there are those that were just passing through, but then there are we; born to be here in our time. Our bodies are wearing out, and falling apart, but we still have the benefit of experience on our side. Add this to our Tartan Pride and I think we have one good run left in us yet. Okay...we may have to repent and dump a few extra pounds, but we have it in us to do so. We lost a couple more this past year, and it will only continue. My challenge to all of you reading this is to put that hike on your calendar for 2021. Do what it takes to make it happen, then spread the news to others. This is our year!

The Birthday List:

About a year ago, the group (having just got together for the first time since Moses), started texting each other on individual birthdays. As usual, I had other commitments and wasn't there. After everything that has happened this year, I must admit, it was nice to know they are still out there. Most of the time I would get these messages well after the fact, or while completely pre-occupied. I haven't seen most of them for years and wouldn't recognize them if I did, but they are still there - and they are my brothers. You guys are all awesome! I will always be grateful for ya'll.  And the sisters...I guess they'll have those special days too.  They just don't age, so they can't be birthdays. The compasses and drive......man was I blessed, or simply lucky?

A very short break


Late night in the snow at the fire, with the moon parting the trees and clouds.

This will be by far the biggest riding year for me personally.  There is a lot to do and some serious training to be had. The details will be trickling out just after the first part of the year - February-ish. I won't kid anyone, this is punching well above weight, and will need everything I can muster to pull it off. In the end, it is to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. I'm looking for supporters; not for me, but for the purpose "the Porpoise". Swing back around in a couple months. We'll put 2021 on the map!

Going out on a high note this year, and hitting the hill with some speed.  Hook on.  We're going after it!

Lets make 2021 what was taken from us this past year and then some! Time to shove back!


The Porpoise - 2020






Sunday, December 6, 2020

A gift - Please Share it with Everyone

 That good that comes from......!



It is too early to shut it down for the season, but I've come across something that needs to be shared, to everyone, by everyone. Back in the old-timey days, you'd occasionally run across something in the record rack, that just seemed to be overlooked. You'd try it and..... How did you ever not hear it before?  We'll here is that very thing.  There are 100 tracks by two of the most talented people I've ever seen.  Talk about chemistry. They call them "Quarantunes". They were recorded during the spring/early summer quarantine, from their home in NYC (according to the description). From the garbage of that period of time, something truly amazing. I can't image this would have ever happened otherwise.

The very first track (the final of their 100) is a cover of REM's "Everybody hurts". I wrapped the season a few years ago with this - a live recorded cover by the Corrs. It was after a rather surreal weekend and summer.  It's still back there in the many posts.  I don't want to wrap this season on another down note, but I want everyone to hear and see these guys. This is really worth the time, and it will take time.  Thus the early Christmas Gift. Put it in the context of the pandemic crap.

It is simply amazing, the precious gems that can be found in the heaping rubble of what we think was a "bad time".  Thanks Doug and Morgan - for simply not giving up. 

Enjoy these, but please, please, please - pass this along. The world needs to hear what was left in the back of the rack.


Final Post in two weeks. See you then..........

Ride HARD!

Friday, December 4, 2020

The "Brown"

Riding in the Rocks

Technically challenged may be a nice way of describing how bad I am in the rocks.  But, that is what you have on the area of Shoreline that I prefer to ride. You really need to have a little confidence, check that - a ton of confidence to ride these areas. I often find myself getting stiff arms and less than "fluid" in motion.  A bad combination for riding in rocks.  This isn't like "pump-track", or bike park riding.  This is brutal in spots.  Basically I suck at this type riding, but I still do it.

If you didn't know better, one might think parts of this trail are in North Fork.  Nope!. Not even close.
Still it is dirt riding, just different.

You can never go back

This place has changed a lot over the years. There a lot of memories from up here. Some good, some not so good.  And frankly some are just bad. We used to spend a lot time chasing game birds up around this particular spot. When not hunting season, it was a convenient place to get away from society - for a while. From this setting above the waterfall in Ogden Canyon, you could see down into the canyon itself and over to the hot-pots. Quite a few rattle snakes kept you on the watch. Some rather crazy stuff was known to have occurred right here. The crooked steps and structure have been there as long as I can remember. A lot of the other stuff was cobbled-in later on. Knowing so much of what happened here kind of haunts me. I'm likely not alone. You go to a place that used to be a get away, only to be chilled by memories.  Maybe those days weren't so great after all. Those crooked stairs.

There is a lot to do and the clock is ticking. I'm wasting time already, but I have less than zero motivation. You want so much to go back, but those bridges went out a long time ago. There is truly no going back - only forward. What's it gonna take?

Looking to wrap up in the next coupled weeks, but hate to do it on a bummer. Enough of the whining - REALLY!  Lets toss these stupid masks and get on with it - whatever IT may be.

"If you only knew, you'd wish you were in my shoes....Do Do those things you do". The smoothest blued-eyed soul I've ever heard.


Ride HARD!



 

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Melancholy

 Back to the other side...

Sunset from the bottom trails at Bonneville Shoreline.
Finally got back on the mountain bike, but on the other side of the mountain.  The Bonneville Shoreline Trail (BST) is quite different from North Fork. It takes a little getting used to, but a great place to work on the off-season skills. This particular segment will burn-off earlier then other areas and usually gets a ton of traffic. Tonight was just a quick up and back. Nothing too serious.  Only enough to burn my lugs with the cold air - kind of stupid.

The need to condition is ever present, but the need to improve some basic skills is very important as well.  There are a lot of differences between road riding and dirt riding.  There a lot of different types of dirt riding and bikes to go with them. Dirt riding requires considerably more athleticism than road riding, well beyond conditioning. Knowing your bike is only a beginning.  Mastering basic skills is a must. Improving advanced skills, makes the experience a whole lot better. At the end of it all, we only do this for the escape.  Who needs more stress?  The satisfaction of riding to ones limits are ingratiating. Setbacks suck, but that's what makes us better; pushing through the hardship.

Hats off to Katie

I don't really follow anyone else, but I do kind of pay attention.  There are a ton of people that have biking gigs on Youtube. I'll occasionally watch some of them for some ideas, but really don't stay up on them.  I was truly impressed by Macky's Everesting attempt earlier this fall. That guy is a lot tougher than I would have given him credit.  I will link that one below. The one that kind of struck home was Katie Kookaburra's thing the other day. Again, I don't follow her either, but am intrigued by her story. I'll post that link below as well. A huge fan of the human spirit, I love to see people overcome those things that seem hard. It is simply amazing what we can do if we let ourselves overcome the pain and discomfort. 

In a way, I can kind relate to Katie, in that I'm slow on the climbs.  I'm not built for cycling, but I love it all the same. When I was 19 years old, I had just finished playing varsity football my freshman year of college. At 184 pounds, I was less than 8% body fat. According to every chart known to man, that is still too heavy to be a competitive cyclist. So here I am how many years later, 20+ pounds over that in the off season, and no chance of ever getting below 190 again, but trying to compete with 165 pound rockets.  That's okay, but I'll never own a KoM record. Then again, maybe I need to be more demanding of myself. After seeing Katie smoke her goal, I feel like I should stop being a victim of my own self doubt.  Sound familiar?

There is a lot coming this next season, and I need to find that motivation  - FAST!  

Meanwhile, hats off to both Katie and Macky (& Syd).  You are truly studs in my book.


If I could only be as tough....

Friday, November 13, 2020

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....


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




Sunday, November 8, 2020

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. 


Ride HARD!


Sunday, November 1, 2020

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.....


Ride HARD!

Sunday, October 25, 2020

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....


Ride HARD!

Saturday, October 17, 2020

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...


Ride HARD! (while you can)


Sunday, October 11, 2020

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........


Ride HARD!

Sunday, October 4, 2020

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.


Ride HARD!

Thursday, September 24, 2020

Dirt Only

 Transition

Definitely the best time of year.
With the road season officially over (like it really ever started), everything now is dirt.  There is a lot competing for time at the moment, and there is no sign of that changing anytime soon.  With the sparse time riding, it's time to make some adjustments and begin working toward next spring.  Starting with pedals, it seemed like a good idea to go back to my SPDs.  Riding the same trail I've been doing all year, it should have been just a little adjustment, considering I rode with SPDs for twenty years before switching.  Lets just say it was not at all enjoyable - rather frustrating.  Perhaps I need to try Mallets with some cleat shims.  I also swapped out the XR3 tires with a set of Conti "Der Kaiser Projekt 2.4".  Comparing these to the Bontrager XR3 2.4, they are more like a 2.5+, and very grippy.  One of the tech reviews said "...they hookup like a college kid on Tinder".  Boy, was that spot on.  The larger profile does handle the rocks and roots very well, but the stability on the way down was noticeable - very comfortable. Getting them on the wheels was a challenge, but the beads popped right in to place at only 40 PSI.  Running them at 23 PSI, felt more like about 18 PSI, as they are supple.  We'll see how well the sidewalls hold up with the rocks and roots.

Therapy

The plan last night was to get home early enough for a tire swap, brake service and fast trail ride.  Another intentional "accident" had me stuck on a mountain side with a rescue for more than two hours.  Getting out of there, I had to drive all the way around to Ogden canyon, as I was parked below the "incident" and couldn't get past them.  Rather than wait, I just wanted to get out of there, but it was far too late for any riding. Just being around that crap is draining - mentally depleting.  Getting out tonight was well needed therapy.  About half way through the top switch backs, one of the high school teams rolled up from behind.  Spread out for a solid ten minutes, it really threw a wrench into the works.  Then some jack-wagon had his dog up there, and it followed the school kids to the top.  When I came around, it followed me up to the overlook, and then all the way back to Cutler.  That stupid mutt was getting under my wheels in some of the faster sweeping turns, making it hard to get away from him.  So much for therapy tonight.  Two nights ago it was another high school team that plugged up the trails.  All that aside, it still beats dealing with most other stuff on a daily basis.

Seasons


This year is perhaps three weeks early on the fall colors.  The trails are already seeing a ton of leaf cover, as the season seems to have peaked.  The rain we had last Saturday was swallowed up by the very dry conditions.  The trail was dusty Sunday night, to the point you'd never know it had rained hard only twenty-four hours earlier.  There have been a lot of late season riders this year.  Only two years ago, you could go out anytime after Labor Day and never see anyone on the trails.  It is busier now in the evenings than it has been all year.  A lot of trail hikers this year, simply enjoying the colors, while more and more down-hill riders hitting it hard.  Autumn still is my favorite time of year - always has been.  Getting to do this right out of my garage is something I hope to never take for granted.  
Somebody has to do it.......may as well be me.  You'd better get onto it before the season gets any later.


Ride HARD!




Thursday, September 17, 2020

Lets try this again - The Summary

 The campaign

Donations rolled in late Friday and Early Saturday putting us at the goal.  Talking to my contact at Huntsman, donations and participation was down across the board.  Something like only 51 final participants, of which I only saw a few Huntsman jerseys all day long.  Pretty much all other fundraising efforts for Huntsman were scrapped this year.  Turns out, LOTOJA was it for the fundraising campaign.  Within LOTOJA, there were a lot of people that either had to drop out, or couldn't travel to Utah for the race.  I know there were my own personal doubts, but somehow......

New to the "Porpoise" this year was the one that put us over the top.  My better-half's brother (and awesome fam) came in big time. He works in the field and sees the heartbreak that results from the Big-C.  He (they) also lost their mother to this garbage a few years ago.  Not that anyone needs that much exposure to understand the devastation, but he (they) all know it too well.  This particular donation came in with some thunder, and truly made a difference toward the race-day attitude.  "Spiking it over the goal-line!". Big thanks Na and awesome fam. 

Two others that came in last week were the Sis'. Yep, my reliable sisters that always keep me inline.  Long time supporters of the "Porpoise", in fact supporters from the very beginning - they are rather great for "older chicks" (can I even say that?).  If you've read the posts over these years, you'll know their significance.  Both of them gave me two of my most memorable Christmas gifts in the form of vinyl. Of course, when they donate, I have to ride to finish.  Thanks you guys.
From the fast dirt ride late last night, on the middle switch-backs.

Jersey Markings

As done on past several occasions, I marked up my race jersey the night before the race (see earlier posts). If you look back over the years you'll see others, and appreciate the significance.  It makes a difference to me personally.

On my left sleeve (blue) was in memory of a kid from High School.  No, we weren't "close buddies", but he is still a Scot.  We came from different Junior High Schools and met early on in our sophomore year.  That year was significant on many levels.  We were all ten feet tall and bullet proof.  We had arrived at the big time - at least in our own minds. We didn't know any better and life was good.  By the time we hit graduation, the facade had faded, the innocence spent and........well, welcome to the world. When I informed another mutual friend of his passing, he took it pretty hard.  Add to that his own physical and personal difficulties, it seemed only right to carry that on my shoulder come race day. 

On My right sleeve (orange) is the name of my support crew-boss' father.  A little older than I, but has been a pretty active fellow.  Last year he was hit with his own battle that has been a significant change in lifestyle - to say the least. His situation does not allow for occasional breaks, or relief.  He has no option other than endure.  On one of my rides back from Woodruff, this was front and center in my mind. During the race, I kept that thought and pushed through every time I thought I wanted to stop for a second.  I had pre-planned stopping points and having that on my shoulder kept me from stopping anywhere outside of those. There is no comparison between his situation and what I experienced.  Although I pushed through each time, I still was able to enjoy lengthy respites at nearly every feed zone.  Thanks for the ride "H".  This one was for you.......

The Race (and ride)

Nervous as always, the race group 800 series was 06:00 (cold and dark).  They showed 50 racers on the list, but I'd guess it to be something less than that at the line. The basic kit (no company "colors" this year), with arm-warmers and long finger Rossi's.  The temperature when I got out of the truck was something like 42°F.  I took only two bottles, versus the three I've started with for the past ten years.  Two Gu's under each leg gripper, two Ensure Plus in the middle pocket, fruit snacks and Jolly Ranchers in the left pocket, a banana, phone and Stinger Waffle in the right pocket - I was set for a good ride.

Logan to Montpelier

With the dark start, a Motor-Marshal riding behind us gave some light through the group.  Most guys had some type of tail light, mainly to provide a little view of the back wheel. The rolling neutral was faster than 15 MPH, although too dark to see the display.  As we got out to Idaho, it was getting colder by the mile.  I was later told the 06:20 pack showed 28°F at Preston.  By the time we got to the first climb and in to Riverdale (in the river bottoms), a lot of riders had no use of their hands.  When I tried to drop the front ring at that climb, the index wouldn't release due to the cold (eventually it did). Things stayed pretty calm for the first few miles up Idaho 36.  Somewhere around Mink Creek it seems, I got dropped on a climb/roller.  Perhaps 45 - 48 miles into the race. This was expected and I didn't panic.  That said, my race was over and was now just out for a long ride.  Planned, short stops at the false summit (MP 17) and summit (MP 22) allowed me to pound the Ensures and some water. The descent off of the top was pretty fast and had a couple good groups.  Out past Ovid, a couple miles from the feed zone, I let the group I was on go ahead, as it became a little sketchy.  A couple really big groups came right up, including the fastest Mens Cat V.  Again, I let them go without hooking on.  The time to Montpelier was close to my plan, but after that, things would change.

Montpelier to Salt River Pass & Afton/Thayne

I spent more time than usual in the feed zone at Montpelier.  From here I wouldn't see my support until Thayne, Wyoming (18 miles past the usual Afton).  Heading up the canyon was predictable, with some traffic issues at the pilot car stop.  As planned, I stopped at the big bend for a few minutes (business).  Talked with a couple of the radio guys manning that stretch and headed for the climb over the top.  I had planned to stop at the brake-check before descending for some fuel, but chose instead to bomb into Geneva and get to the water stop just over the Idaho/Wyoming line.  Hooking on to a couple small groups, the water stop came pretty fast.  I took a little water, pounded an Ensure and headed for King of the Mountain (KoM/QoM).  The winds were mostly favorable and I really didn't try to hook on to groups unless it was absolutely convenient.  Just before the KoM timing strip, I stopped (a little too long) to stretch, push a Gu and drink some water.  That climb wasn't bad - until the last 1K, where there was a dead deer laying across our path into the finish.  It looked like it had exploded - literally.  Add to this, being gassed from the climb, it made for a memorable arrival at the feed zone.  I think this was the first time I have stopped at this feed zone, but knowing I would have to neutral through Afton, I was making sure I had water and pickle juice.  This time I spent way too much time in that feed zone - which would be the theme for the rest of the day.  Leaving the feed zone for the fast descent toward Smoot, I was sure either I'd catch a group, or one would catch me.  Turns out, I caught a woman racer and dragged her along until we caught another guy.  With both of them on my wheel, our speed was pretty good, but I was expecting somebody to catch us - which didn't happen.  The one and only time I rolled off the front to let the other guy pull, he really struggled.  After about 2 minutes, I jumped out front and pulled the three of us almost to After before he had a flat.  The two of us left found the neutral in Afton, where I took up home for a while and called my new support crew (I'll explain later).  

The Afton route took us several blocks to the east adding some miles before we got back on the highway.  One other guy and I worked together all the way to Thayne (18 miles) in what turned out to be just over 22 minutes.  But there was nobody else to help.  At that feed zone, I considered taking up residency, as I stayed there way too long - for no reason what so ever.  By this point, it was just nice day and I was in no hurry to end it. Spending more time alone was pretty much what I was after, and that is what the rest of the day would look like.

Thayne to Alpine and Home

Leaving Thayne alone was not the best idea.  However, given the lack of any groups, that was the order of the remaining ride.  Pretty much solo to Alpine, the winds were mostly favorable.  At Alpine I met up with my original support, that earlier I had sent forward to support another racer.  Again time at this feed zone was pretty.....too long.  The next 24 mile up Snake River Canyon was a total solo ride - by my choice.  This is the most beautiful part of the ride, and I really enjoyed the hour it took to get to Hoeback.  A quick stop at the new neutral for the last Ensure and a Redbull (and dropping trash), I had 28 miles to go.

Traffic at the roundabout was backed up, but not really a problem for most bikes. Just past the narrow pass, they took us of onto a detour that was interesting.  The first couple miles had a deceptive uphill grade - 10 MPH kind of deceptive.  Over the top of that stretch, the road wound its way toward the Snake River.  At that point, there was a steep, unpaved section - far too long to walk.  The road here was't road base, nor was it gravel.  Lets qualify it as officially sketch-city. Directly at the bottom of what physics would suggest an otherwise fast descent, was a hard left-hand turn onto a bridge across the Snake.  This had two rows of planking for vehicle tires, with a support deck on either side, as well the center.  If you weren't on the planking, you'd have to stop to lift your bike back onto the road at the other side.  Not that the planking was a lot better, as they were loose and presented the potential of pinch plats.  Directly off this bridge was a very steep climb, for maybe 200 feet.  At the top was a double set of exceptionally wide cattle guards.  Flying over the bridge, I really didn't notice the abrupt grade at the other end, and was in my big ring upfront for that short climb.  As I hit the cattle guards, the intense vibration brought me to a near stall just as I rolled onto the asphalt (lucky).

By the time I got over to the heart-breaker (last hill before Jackson) I could see individual riders in both directions, but no groups.  After crossing the highway, I could see two individual riders that looked like an opportunity, but I was having trouble getting a Jolly Rancher into my mouth for the last part of the ride and didn't catch them.  A mile of two before the turnoff to the High School, I hooked on to a couple guys that would be ending their ride up there.  When they turned off for their finish, I still had almost eleven miles to go - alone.  I did manage to real-in a couple individuals, but they were of no use to me at that point. Finally on the Wilson/Teton Highway, and just under seven miles to go, it was all business.  Alternating between out of the saddle and down gripping the top of the shifters, I was carrying a pretty good clip.  There have been other years that this stretch has really been hard to deal with mentally.  This year, I had more than enough to drive it home.  One guy tried to hook on at around 1K or 2K out.  Not that it mattered, as I gave it everything left in the tank.  With my head down on the bars, in a seated sprint, I finished with a sense of dignity. Coasting in, sitting on the top tube, there wasn't the normal mob of people to stop me, or get my timing chip (due to Covid).  Rather, at the end of the chute, just prior to the trail, they were there asking us to remove our chips and hand them over.  It started different and ended different, but still a great day.

Summary

Considering how few road miles I had this year, I was surprised at the lack of overall fatigue.  I didn't care about my time, and that's not an excuse.  It occurred to me later that the emptiness that I felt when I got off my bike for the last time on Saturday, was the cold reality of having to join civilization again - going back to life.  I actually didn't want it to end, but certainly couldn't go on either.  The actual bike time versus official time was something in the order of 90 minutes different.  Compare that to one year that I had something like 12 minutes off my bike.  I truly didn't want it to end, but I was also pretty tired after burning 650 - 800 calories an hour for 13+ hours.  I could have absolutely gone harder, but I chose to enjoy my day and sort things out in my head.

Hats off to my buddy that finished strong in his race group, as a podium 4th place.  He was principle in keeping my mind straight this summer, when I thought I would otherwise quit.  Thanks Kerry - and congrats on a killer ride!

With the season behind me, I'm already struggling to make time for the mountain bike. Clients, work and other commitments are competing with my spare time.  The ride last night was about as late as it gets without a headlamp.  Regardless, I'm currently on the hook for Leadville next summer and that will be a very serious undertaking.  There will be no real off-season this year.  But then who could have predicted what happened this past year.
Ben Lomond in the Autumn - a contrast from the picts earlier this year.

Stick around.  This is a lot to do.


Ride HARD!




Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Saturday, September 12, 2020

LOTOJA 2020 in the books

A long day, but definitely a success for Huntsman 

Looks like donations were made today and last night. Wanting to address these with more detail, I will do that tomorrow - when I'm not completely wasted. As far as the race goes, success is somewhat binary; either you finish, or you don't.  It wasn't the prettiest, but it was an official finish.  I'll take it.

Start time was cold and dark.  I rolled out of Logan with a solid red tail light, arm warmers and insulated long finger gloves.  At Preston, you could see everyone's breath.  A lot of guys were only wearing open finger gloves and were having troubles shifting and braking.  The group was pretty fast and stayed intact quite away up Idaho 36.  I finally let them go about about six miles up - about 45 miles into the race. From there it was generally a long time between groups, and only got worse as the day wore on. Coming off the back side of Immigration, speeds got very fast quickly.  I hooked on to two Women's racers and finally overtook them, I stayed out front for several miles, but they dropped well before Liberty. As the day wore on, groups became harder and harder to find. Conditions tended to vary throughout the day, but generally weren't too bad.  I didn't check to see the total miles, but I think it was something closer to 204 for the day. The detour out of Hoeback was interesting.  We had to take a steep downhill onto a bridge, off a crappy gravel road.  This was after a considerable climb that no one expected. Add to this some out of the way detours at Afton and Thayne, and you had a longer, harder ride.

The last 28 miles just seemed to go on forever, but eventually I did make it in - with authority.  I can honestly report, as dark as things got today, I really never did lose focus, or drive.  I did spend a ton of time in all the feed zones, including four neutrals.  That never helps.  If I had to grade this race subjectively, I'd give it a C+.  Nothing was mailed in, but nothing was pressed too hard either.

I will also provide a more in depth review and and explanation in a few days.  For now, I'm calling to quits for the night.  I'm wasted.

Take the rest of the night off...........

Friday, September 11, 2020

Last minute details

 The Race is On - Tomorrow!



A last minute ride last night to check out the bike had a quick stop at Huntsville park.  Those shadows are sure getting long.  Feels a lot like autumn.  

Start time for my group is 06:00 - in the dark.  Groups being spaced out like they are will make for a different race dynamic. It may be harder to find groups along the way. The weather forecast looks agreeable for the most part.  It now is a matter of where the winds may shift, and at what time.  This never gets old, but I'm still as nervous as ever.  I've reviewed this ride over and over in my mind for many weeks.  There will be suffering and frustration.  It's gonna be a good day.

The Porpoise


As has become a tradition, I mark up my jersey as kind of a reminder of why I do this, as well as to honor those caught in the fight.  It is an inspiration to do this, if not a solid and sober reminder.  Donations have been a struggle this year, but I get it.  Still, the images above are about true struggle - much harder than anything I'll experience tomorrow. For some, there is no relief, where as I can choose to stop anytime.  A few weeks ago I was on my way back from Woodruff when I was thinking about this very thing.  It occurred to me that either of these two individuals have endured more than the little pain I was feeling that particular day.  From there, I thought I could focus a little harder and pull through.

I still have a lot to do before I get some sleep tonight, but I thought this important enough to stop and make this post.  I'll be leaving far too early tomorrow to risk making a post before I leave, so this is it before the race.  Just know, somebody is truly suffering and some of us have the capacity to render aid - in one form or another.  

Tune in a few days from now.  I'll try to make a post from Driggs Saturday night, but no guarantees.
Until then, here is my gift to all of you that stopped by for this post.  Thanks for being here......  Pass it along. 


"....Please turn me over."