Spontaneous commitments
I'm not sure of the year, but the image above was from the fist year I chose to ride for Huntsman. My then employer, sponsored a pretty well developed cycling club - within the company. Actually, the group of local riders took things by the horns and developed a club that raised enough money to underwrite all the entries for all Huntsman riders into LOTOJA. The end collective effort raised a ton of money and other support for The Huntsman Cancer Institute at the University of Utah. At least one year prior to my initial support of Huntsman, I was asked to represent the company at the awards event the morning after the race. Of course I felt completely out of place, but did the happy face thing for the corporate picture. Somewhere along the line I felt like a taker, not a giver - not a comfortable feeling for me personally. About this same time, several of the guys I would ride with were going their separate ways, leaving me to develop more self-motivation. It seemed like a good idea to jump in with Huntsman, as nobody else with the company had done so prior to that point. So....I jumped onboard and found a new group of friends, not mention a purpose. But that didn't immediately lead to the "Porpoise". Truthfully, I don't remember when the whole "Porpoise" thing came about in earnest.
That first year was a serious struggle, as miles and motivation were both limited. Somewhere along the way, I had learned that my cousin had been diagnosed with an aggressive type of brain cancer. Without a doubt, that was on my mind throughout that summer. I distinctly remember riding back from East Canyon, coming up and over Trappers Loop, having to grind over the last mile of climbing. It was during that climb I thought of the certain pain and frustration my cousin must be feeling through her battle. I always knew that my pain and suffering could stop by me simply stopping, but hers....well that wasn't case. Fast forward to the evening prior to race day. I usually spend the day going over all the details; kit bags, mechanicals, support crew coordination....all the stuff that matters. Part of that is pinning my bib number on my jersey (which is an art). Here I had this new and never before worn jersey from Huntsman -the first time I wouldn't ride with the company colors. Just out of nowhere came this idea to write my sweet cousin's name on my sleeve with a Sharpy marker. Nobody else knew anything about it, until the next morning when I aske my daughter (part of my support crew) to take that picture and get it to my sisters. I thought maybe they would post it on some type of social media - maybe get back to her as my way of saying "I'd take a bullet for you". Lets not kid ourselves, riding a bike is a long way from taking a bullet. That afternoon, as I rode up Snake River Canyon, I was suffering. Remembering that name on my sleeve gave me the strength to go forward and endure the pain and discomfort. When I rolled across the line in Teton Village that evening, I had my daughter take another picture. From there we were over the mountain to Driggs, Idaho where I could finally take a shower and recover from 204 miles of what I thought was Hell. From Driggs, we drove home the next morning, unloaded all the gear and hung the bike on the wall, for the transition to mountain biking. The next morning while I was at work I received a message from one of my sisters that "Mindy" (as we knew her) had lost that battle.
I don't believe in coincidence.
The next year Melinda's husband lost his battle with the "Big-C". Along the way, I have also lost many - like way too many, friends and co-workers to some form of this shit. Of course Reed is still fighting like the "Fighting Scot" that he is, but this past winter we lost Mindy's younger sister - Dana. I had no idea that she was in her own battle. I was honored to spend the afternoon of my birthday at her graveside service - and I do mean honored, while still being completely humbled. It broke me in that same place that I broke when I had received word about Mindy's passing. Since that day this past February I have contemplated a lot of these searing events - knowing how absolutely helpless we all are in the end - ALL of us. You can go back and read too many of my posts that I have mentioned these other individuals in my life that have been blasted by the "Big-C". I stopped by a couple times to visit our Brother Reed while he was in the hospital recently. He has the most remarkable up-beat attitude. Total optimism of virtually everything. The doctors only gave him six months, but like fighters he and his awesome wife are....we'll it's been well over a year and he's not backing down (chalk it up to being a happy warrior). From all of this, I can find strength - strength to accept my petty problems and fight them with the vigor and determination all of these people I speak of have done. Letting them pass without that lesson would be a disservice to anyone of them.
An Early Start on the Hardtail
No, I'm not doing the snow bike thing. Never mind the fact I live right next to a huge snow-bike area and still have that stupid fat-tire bike - I just won't bring myself to doing it. Rather, I've been putting limited and early miles on the hardtail. I'm really getting a good feel for that bike - as well I had better. If I'm going to be successful at Leadville, it will have to be on that bike. But I have a long way to go all the way around.
Trying a few different things
The road up and over the Avon Divide has mostly burned off this past week. The image above is right near the top, where there is still a little snow, but worse yet - MUD. I've learned that lesson the hard way. I was debating whether to use the full -sus with the gnarly tires, or take my chance with the hardtail and the Serfas Drifters. Well....there she is, Drifters and all. It was a little sketchy, but that bike is so responsive, you can feel it all. Talk about a fast bike; that thing is faster than I'm currently capable and requires a lot more skill than I possess at the moment. Riding my full-sus has made me soft and lazy, letting my already pathetic skills become even more so. I'm debating on adding a dropper-post, as well as upgrading the forks. It definitely needs a bigger front ring to crush the oil sections at Leadville, but I'll need the legs to be able to climb with the loss of the lower end. Basically, I have my work cut out for me. Stick around. Now that I can actually get out more often, this should also precipitate some more frequent posts with updates.
A shout-out
While at the afore mentioned service back in February, I was every so fortunate to have met up with my other cousin Stacy. We are closer in age to each other than the other two sisters. There was a time when our families were pretty close and did a few thing together. As life tends to go, somehow that all kind of ended. The last time we actually were in each others company was spring 1983. Wow, I can't believe it has been a literally a life time. She reminds me of our grandmother - strong, determined and a genuine stud! Hard to explain, but that brief visit opened my eyes and even inspired me. It has made me put a few things into perspective - that I will not elaborate at this point (superstitious). Lets see if I can make the most of that gift. Stay tuned.........
"You're a shinning star, no matter who you are......."
Ride HARD!
