Tying it up

 Making the most of any situation

The way things used to be....

Time slips by faster every year. It seems only last week I was training for my first LOTOJA. It seems like an entire life time ago that I was just finishing my freshman year playing football in college. There is so much I have willing forgotten, while other things I hold dear to my own heart. I think we tend to do that and in the process, we forget who we really are and from where we came. I can tell you this for certain; we all choose to forget and remember what we want, how we want, regardless of what is really true. I still look for those faces in the crowd that make me stop in my tracks. The familiar voice that rings above the loudest noise that only you can hear. As time goes on, those events become less often and more vague. But time continues on without regard for what we may otherwise think or desire.

Perspective

The way they should be....

Given enough time we can convince ourselves that who we are and what we have become is justifiable. Given the opportunity to do it all over again, only a fool would say he'd do it exactly the same way - either that or one who lies. We all know that there are things we'd do differently given the knowledge and wisdom of our years. But how about those that continue living the lie by rationalizing their deeds to climb over others in the process.  Well, that is life, but it doesn't make it right. When a person cheats in a race or test, but nobody else knows, there is still that one person that will also have the truth. As we get older our exterior begins to fall apart, exposing our inner self. For many this reveals an ugliness that has always been there - just hidden. For others it reveals an inner beauty that exceeds the rough husk of the former exterior that was always visible. Perhaps this is why some people age better than others - they are true to themselves and don't worry about the exterior appearance. It doesn't happen overnight, but rather over the course of a lifetime. Standing out front and looking back at the true cost of your life's decisions is a painful reality. Today is the day you take inventory. It is from the perspective of one that knows all of your deepest secrets. It is your true perspective.

....but the way they really are.

A reminder of true cost....

Everything has a cost. Be it money, material or blood. This image above is a reminder to me of others that paid a price without fanfare or self promotion. Hard things can be done - if we are willing to pay that price. Put yourself in the position of not knowing if you will live or die, because every day has it's risks. It can all be taken away tomorrow and who will you be when it is all gone? Those crews faced uncertainty every day they went up. You didn't need people trying to kill you. As many where killed during training and non-combat missions as were lost to enemy action. Rub the hair off that lucky rabbits foot - you need all the luck you can get. Gene Simmons has said numerous times that people said he was lucky. His reply: "Very true. I found the harder I worked the luckier I became". Nothing is free in this life - and I mean nothing. What part of you has died to become the lasting image that will remain? Wear it proud. Many people never had that opportunity to screw up as many times as we have, only to still succeed despite our own hubris. Tomorrow morning when you greet yourself in that bathroom mirror, remember what it all has cost to be there at that very moment.

Enough of the lecturing

It's time for the Porpoise to put on a bright new look and start moving forward. I'm hoping to see many of you along the way. We have lost too many of our friends not to continue. So maybe, just maybe....I personally will find the motivation and willingness to stand up and fight again.

 See you in a couple weeks..........

Click here for a little Ozark Gospel - "Look Away"

The Porpoise - 2025

Merry Christmas From The Porpoise

A sign of the seasons...just not this particular season.

 A Hard Reality - Like it or not

Loneliness is a terrible thing. What may be worse is watching the aged and often infirmed as they deteriorate helplessly in to a state of frailty. These were often the giants of our youth - a time when we all needed heroes. In days when our own uncertainty was calmed by their assurance and guidance, we may have never thought we would see the cracks of mortality. These past couple of weeks have completely blown that notion out of the water. I have learned to listen to the "little voices" and not to hesitate in action. I learned the hard way some twelve-years ago that hesitation can be costly. Since then I do not question, I only do. I make it a point to visit many of these giants from our past - now so frail and too often alone, only to witness the cruel reality of life that breaks us all down in the end. From a friend that fought a valiant fight to another since passed friend's dad taking his last mortal breath in this life - these are stark reminders of what life can be like. But in these visits I learn a lot. Sure there are the obvious, but moreover the not as obvious - the lessons in the shadows. The messages between the lines, if you are willing to listen. I spent a solid hour this afternoon listening to a nearly 92-yer old man recount his own memories of not the glory days, but of his grand kids and children. Not so much dwelling on his own past, but an inventory of his blessings in his current day - all tied to his lengthy history. This is where the loneliness started to show, as he recounted his since departed wife of many decades. In that voice I could hear the man I knew more than 45-years ago recount the depth of his soul and emotion, knowing that this living book of history would not too long also pass into our memories. That will create yet another type of loneliness for a select few going forward.

Changing Landscapes

As I drive through our old familiar town, it is becoming less familiar by the day. Not only our town, but the other places that I have known my entire life. Gates across roads that led to adventures of my youth, to buildings that have been replaced my multi-tenant housing projects -  it is a harsh reminder of how things will always change. So why does that matter? Why can't change be accepted and embraced? I'm not saying it can't be, but I am saying there are fundamentals we should never abandon. Perhaps the most important of these is who we really are. At some time we all aspired to be someone, or do something that we dreamt would be ideal. Over time we become that of which we gaze at, but at what cost. Much like a town that loses it's character when buildings are razed, people often lose their truest character as the cost of becoming what the focus at that long protracted gazing. Unfortunately we also get worn down by the weathering of life. It slowly wears down our once sharp and chiseled edges, to smooth and rounded conforming features - often covered by hair coloring, nice clothes, material objects and worse - an attitude lacking humility. This need for humility is why I often do what I do - I suppose. As my own landscapes change personally over time, smelling the familiar dirt of my past helps me remember what was important to me before life happened.

Days of chasing coyotes and pheasants.

Pushing the Boundaries

Endurance guys are built differently. We train for the long term and long time events. The image at the top of the page is a reminder of that for me personally. Those long 126-mile rides over Monte to Woodruff and back can be brutal. That particular sign is on the way home after making the turn around. There are days that wind is blowing straight into your face, hotter than hell and unforgiving. Occasionally you get lucky and have a tailwind at points, but it is never easy. Counting the mile-post markers, knowing exactly what the terrain will be at each location as you approach doesn't make it easier. Taking a break at the campground is sometimes a mixed bag.  Even from that point you still have to ride over the shoulders before getting to MP42, where it is all down hill from there - allegedly. Unless it is way late in the evening, there will be the reliable headwind at Redrock, just as you head down into South Fork Canyon. Blowing like a blast furnace, Huntsville seems an million miles away. The hell that this sounds like is exactly that, if not worse. Regardless, I find myself during that trial in a way I can't otherwise. It is truly a journey and not a destination - as it ends at home for me. To make this happen requires a ton of sacrifice doing hours of hill repeats, tempo rides, early morning spin sessions and a lot of other things. But that ride isn't the end goal - it leads to the end goal, the journey itself. I have been cooked, frozen, broken down, flatted and everything else you can image doing that ride - but I keep going back for some crazy-ass reason. It's often during these long winter nights we endurance guys long for the days of suffering that we know is that ride - whatever that particular ride may be individually. To progress we have to find out perceived limits and challenge them - again and again. When we don't, our boundaries shrink and we in turn also shrink. Endure!

One more post for the year

Only a week or so left. A lot of work with the business, with more on the books for the year. I'm looking to bounce back from the setbacks of the past 18-months. A lot on the line and some serious ambitions. I hope to have something more meaningful before the year is over, but then again - it has been a rough year when it comes to riding. Perhaps I should try gazing at what really matters most and let it take me where I can go......

This one seems curiously fitting at the moment.......

Click Here for "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant"

"...I've gotta roll."

Ride HARD!

Been away far too long......

 

Not enough of these days anymore

Priorities, Distractions and Everything In Between

A lot has happened since the previous post. Too many times I would be at my computer late into the evening, thinking I need to update the BLOG - only to be distracted by what would otherwise be described as "priorities". The consulting workload has been considerable, leaving no time to ride. One may think that living as close as I do to all the available trails locally, I'd be on my mountain bike regularly. The image above is the one and only time I took the full-sus out this past season. Long gone are the days of coming home from work and jetting out on my bike, onto the dirt until the daylight was gone. For that matter, gone are a lot of other things as well. I believe it was John Lennon that said " Life is what happens when you are busy making plans". I suppose that is the stuff n between.

Something I learned along time ago is how we as a species have a tendency to make our own priorities. In fact, more often than not it is what we choose to do, rather than what has to be done. I'm sure there are those things that press us into a corner, but it is what we do before that situation comes about. 20-years ago I was working terrible hours, traveling around the globe while meeting other peoples expectations - but somehow I would still roll out of bed at 04:00 to get a hard spin-class in before starting the day. Even when I was on the road, sicker than a dog, I would still put in a solid 45-minutes on an elliptical at whatever crappy hotel I found myself in. Maybe there is more to that motivation thing after all. Or...maybe the years are starting to catch up with me? NAH! I'm just inherently lazy......

Feed Zone Marshal Experience

Riders coming into the Feed Zone Neutral - Afton, Wyoming

My crew has been doing this whole LOTOJA thing for nearly 20-years as a family. We took the three youngest kids up to Afton, providing support at that feed zone this year. Normally they see the "old man" getting out of the truck in the dark at Logan, then chasing the race across the course over the entire day - watching for the old fat guy, dragging his tongue in the dirt throughout the day. This years experience was very different- in a positive way. We started around 07:30 setting up the entire feed zone from scratch. We were in the company of perhaps seven other people, with only a couple of them having ever ridden/raced this, if any event. Most people just take pride in being part of something bigger than themselves. It was interesting to see how the race unfolds from the Pro, 1,2's coming through, to the last of the riders trying to beat the cut-off. Of course, seeing the 800 frame numbers roll through, cut like a jagged piece of glass, as that was my group. You could spot the first timers just by their saucer sized eyes and the abject look of pain like they had never felt before - loving every minute of it. When it was over, we rolled up the operation and tied a few "knots", knowing that the earliest finishers would have only just been rolling in eighty-something miles away. Heading home that evening, we made traditional stop in Randolph, but being race day, there was no long string of vehicles carrying bikes passing by. Some day, hopefully not too soon, this event will be only a memory and those familiar things will fade with other things that we lose in our lives.

Whether you ride, or not - I highly recommend volunteering at a remote feed zone and experience this from that particular perspective. It is truly bigger than anyone's self.

Where to go from here?

There are a lot of things in the mix - none have yet to be settled. We're gonna try making a few changes to the "Porpoise" going forward - as it has become a bit stagnant. Not giving away too much, lets leave it at; everything needs a little restructuring and modification from time to time. Who knows, maybe there will be more dirt in the forecast. There will be a change in the emphasis as it needs a little more direction going forward - for sure.

An Update

The past two seasons have been centered around a class mate and his own battle with the "Big-C". Initially only given maybe 6-months to live, Reed proved those "experts" wrong and pressed a solid and remarkable 20-months out of it all. Like so many things, the final score doesn't tell the tale. No way! He took this thing into extra innings with countless miracles along the way. It was truly a rough ride. Perhaps the most obvious miracle was his angel of a wife - another class mate. I don't believe in mere coincidence and am certain she made the difference between the experts being correct and his willingness to endure. She literally gave him the will to fight and live. In the quiet that follows, we all have that moment of reflection and reconning.  In this case it will be what drives the direction of "Porpoise" for this next season.

This year is about done. Stick around, or occasionally drop by.

"Happy Ways" Pre-Eagle Joe

Ride HARD!

Changing Roles

 Seeing it from another perspective

Packet pickup was a couple days ago. Group lists, chips, bib/frame number - the usual stuff. Nothing more painful than checking in knowing you won't be toeing the line this year. I'm not getting into the details, but this year was a total wash - as in "NO GO". I'm still one to honor my commitments, so the requisite donations were made to Huntsman - albeit a lot more than has been in the past. Regardless, 816 will officially DNS tomorrow morning. I looked down the list and recognized a lot of familiar names. Plowman, several of the former "Red Burrows" and a couple other hot-shots. Make no mistake, these guys can ride. Although I won't be in that starting pack at 06:26, I will see them blowing through the Afton Feed Zone. Never one to be a taker, I contacted my very good friend, the race director (Mr. Awesome) and told him to put me where the need is the greatest. In a couple hours, the fam and I are heading for the ever so beautiful Star Valley, Wyoming to gear up for supporting that operation. Afton is always a favorite, as the community comes out in force. From there you are only 81 miles from the barn. It does get a little busy, as the feed zone is common for all race & ride participants, as well as having a relay transition a couple blocks from the main area. Aiding in the FZ marshalling, I'll drag the hardtail along, as to jet between locations as needed. Speaking to the coordinator last evening, he say's they will need people to make sure all the volunteers get regular breaks - keeping the race moving without a hitch. Make no mistake, seeing this from the inside looking out won't make it easier, but it's time to give back. Still, seeing the 800's blow through will be a gut punch.

Radio guys

A very good friend of mine will be manning the radio crew base in Afton. I know I've talked about them before, but I can never say enough good about these people. Seeing the comms from them starting in late spring, I have a pretty good idea of the effort and commitment they make. Technically they are called "Amateur Radio Operators", but they are anything but amateur. These guys know their business. If not for them, LOTOJA couldn't happen. They literally tie it all together - all while being generally overlooked. When you see one on the road, make certain to give them the recognition they truly deserve, but never aspire to.

The balance

A lot has changed in the past five years. I'm well past the ablation and all that B.S., but I'm not exactly sure where it is I might actually be anymore. Next week will be the time I can reflect and maybe figure it out. As desperate as it sounds, I have yet to have been out on the full-sus on the dirt this year. Autumn has always been my most favorite time of the seasons. Before North Fork became the destination it has become, I would come home from the office and run out on my mountain bike - never seeing another soul anywhere. These days, it is like driving through downtown most evenings. It doesn't matter  if it morning or evening, non-stop people. Not being a people person, I find it hard to enjoy those rides anymore. Frankly, I'm to the point I need to learn acceptance of the things I can't change and embrace the things I otherwise can. In the balance will be what becomes of future riding and racing. I mean, you can only be beat down so long before you can't get up - or is that the definition of success? Regardless, things are going to have to change. With that in mind, I will be making some serious evaluations this fall. I can promise the direction will be known by the final post of the year - which may also be the final post PERIOD.

Click here. It's not Mr. Blue Sky, but this Really Fits the moment. 

Time to take some....Time.

Leaders, Followers & Drifting

 

An early morning on the Six-13 - Out at the point.

Things you don't say

I've made a few trips around the sun - like a lot. During that time I have learned the importance of observation, versus jumping to conclusions and judgement. One of the things I have learned is how to spot those that truly lead as opposed to those who simply follow. Contrary to cultural mythology, leaders are not necessarily "Type-A", or "alpha-dogs". Often they are unassuming, but deliberate. I have also learned (the hard way) to be leery - rather to steer clear of those individuals that say it out load (they are leaders). Those are the ones that get everyone killed to feed their self-righteous ego. History is full of these types. Simon Sinek has pushed the idea that leaders "always eat last". There is a lot of truth to this and is not limited to actually the meal time activities. There are those that are first in, last out and never above the smallest task. Again, this is not to be confused either with superb military strategists, but individuals that their very presence is enough to elicit your own self confidence. In the end it is never and I do mean never, the things a person says. In some cases it may not even be what action a person does, but rather who they reveal themselves to be. Charisma aside, its that person you would instinctively follow out (or in) of a burning building without having to be told to do so.

Things to know

At some point, in fact the majority of the time, even leaders have to follow someone else. But that whole "following" thing gets a bad name, as it implies weakness and lack of direction. Many a business has been built on the idea of "building leaders", with the idea a person has to be broken down and learn to follow before they can be taught to lead. This idea that you can pay a pile of cash to someone else to make you a leader flies in the face of the laws of nature. Corporate culture, the military and virtually every other organization is full of what I call cardboard leaders - people that are placed into positions of "authority" as a matter of "the process". This is largely why I personally left the corporate world after nearly four-decades. At any given moment (don't wait until the end of the day), a person needs to know why they are doing what they are doing. Are you fighting for someone else's misguided cause, or does that guy with the red flowing hair and very nice uniform actually know what he is doing (my little Big Horn reference)? Who's water are you carrying and why? Does that person (or people) that claim to be leading really believe they're acting in your best interest, or do they tell you your fall will benefit those who survive. Military history is full of these stories - again the British slaughter at Anzio comes to mind. Don't assume you are a follower and have to charge the machine gun nest for the benefit of those that will survive. Rather, consider what the objective really is and figure it out. And by the way, feeding the "machine" is never a worthy objective. Put your time, effort and blood into that place where it makes the most difference - and that is NEVER carrying the water for someone who tells you that your sacrifice is needed for the others that will follow. In doing what really matters, you will be a leader without ever having to be recognized as such.

Have a Purpose

Know why you are doing what you are doing - at all times. Have a tangible purpose to operate. All thrust and no vector is how a balloon operates. Don't blow it for the sake of doing so. Look at what you have done at the end and assess if it was truly worth your energy to have done so in the first place. Time is a funny thing. It is irrevocable and non-refundable. Are you willing to give it away so cheaply. Would you give away your last twenty-dollars without considering where it was going? Stop giving your time and energy away to things that advance other peoples causes unless you are willing to let someone else own you in the end. That isn't the same as asking "what's in it for me", but maybe you should know who is getting the cheaply sold commodity of your own time and effort. Do everything in your day with a purpose.

A Sister making a huge difference....

If you have been following this effort over the years, you certainly know how a couple of my sisters are regular contributors to the Porpoise thing. This year has been no exception. This sister is perhaps the meaning of even-keel and steady. Always a constant in the universe regardless of the surrounding environment, she is virtually immortal - kind of the Dick Clark of her own day. Ageless and reliable. Never one to seek attention, but always on station regardless of the situation. Without any prompting this year (as the whole Porpoise thing has been rather dormant), she has again jumped in for the swim - in a very big way. I have also related this story as how one of my most memorable Christmas exchange gifts was the album from 1976. Still one of my favorites mainly for being a gift, much less the content of the vinyl tracks themselves. As I write this, I'm listening to a random shuffle and the title track just came on. I do not believe in coincidence. Thanks Sis! Dick Clark could never have been as cool as you.

Click here for "Band On the Run"  

Important update in a few days....... Until then

Ride HARD!

In Between Places

Atop the Avon Divide Road

 Breaking Stuff

I've been putting more miles on the hardtail than the road bike this year. That was until I broke another spoke on the drive side of the rear wheel - AGAIN!  Right at what I was planning to be a 4 hour tempo ride across the valley, "PING" - that too familiar sound of a spoke breaking at the J-hook. Only a few miles from home, I had to do a soft pedal back to the casa. I pulled out a bullet proof set of DT Swiss dirt wheels and made up a set with some cross country dirt tires.  These wheels have a straight pull-through spoke that is less susceptible to failure. Great racing stuff. About an hour later, I was out riding hills with dirt tires. A couple days later I setup a set of trainers for the road bike and made a quick once over check of everything on the old road bike. Truth is, that thing is getting old and worn out. I realized the tune up I gave it last year was.....not so good. I used the wrong cable guides for road shifting cables - leading to less than desirable results. I also had to replace the carbon-fiber seat post - AGAIN. This may be the last year for that bike, as tech has really changed in the past few years. Add to that my riding posture has also changed, I should probably make a change.

Skeet Shooting

The picture above is on the Avon Divide Road, about 1/4 mile from the top. Somewhere there is a picture of some of us skeet shooting at this very spot, 40 years ago, nearly to the day. This was at a very pivotal time in my own life, as I had spent the previous nearly two years in a downward, self destructive pattern of behavior. Neck deep in what I thought was the end of the world at that time, I was told some critical information about events that had occurred two years before, without my knowledge. The events that led up to the moment two years early is what set me off on my downward trend. It was only a few days before going skeet shooting at this particular place, that I was briefly made aware of a very critical detail. Some ships just have too much inertia to stop and turn - as was my case then. It got me to thinking of what I was doing and what choices I had yet to make. I wouldn't say I had an awakening, but I can tell you it was definitely a moment that changed everything going forward. I never did get the full story of what actually happened two years before. Sure, it still haunts me, as I tend to think of the worst scenarios - but somehow things only now are beginning to make better sense. Like I said, somewhere there is a picture. I'm just not sure the story will ever be fully told - as is life.

a calm morning at the point.

Competing Schedules

This consulting thing has really taken off. In the process it has also began eating away at my time to train - or pretend to train. For the past four-weeks I've had to drive to a site in Southern California, do some work and immediately turn right back around to go home. Typically out and back in about 24 hours with little to no sleep. Not only does that cut into my time for training, it completely wrecks me for the next couple of days. Needless to say, everything has been at a minimum training-wise. A lot of intervals. A lot of hard and quick, short duration sessions of just about anything. I'm not sure how well it is doing, as I have no metric to compare against yet. With the Cache Century in just over a week, that may be my only real check point.

Leadville

A couple of my buddies did make it to Leadville this year. I was supposed to be with them, but that has already been discussed. The event added two new groups, with about 300 more rider than before. Needless to say, it sounds as though things went poorly. Both of them finished, but nowhere near their times from a couple years ago. Of course, Keegan won it again, but fell short of his record - still sub-six-hours. That's five in a row for the Heber Valley kid. Dave Wiens did six in a row before losing to Lance, the year Lance came out of retirement and went back on the tour. Wiens beat him the year before, but Lance crushed the course the next year, having just completed his seventh TDF victory. As Wiens said, "Last year Lance was riding off the couch. This year he was riding off the tour." We'll we know how that ended anyway. Wiens is still an animal, as he was doing it on a 26" bike, with crappy tech. That bike Keegan ran this year was closer to a Gravel Bike than a mountain bike - with the absolute techiest tech to be had. We'll see what the off season looks like before we talk about next year.

Not sure why this one seemed to be the pick....

Click here for JD Souther - If your only lonely

Ride HARD!

Having been called out........

A near full moon over the top after an evening of hill intervals.

 You have some s'planin to do Lucy...

So.....it's been a while, like a long while. A lot has happened and a lot more to explain. This goes against everything this blog has ever stood for in the past. It has never been about me, but rather a vehicle to drive the message and provide an easy link to Huntsman. But there have been a few things happen that need to be discussed. So sit back for some "splanin".

Heart Rhythm Issues

Last year, early in the spring, I noticed some variation in my heart rhythm - at odd times. Truth is, it's been going on for a long time, but finally decided to have it checked out. As infrequent as it was (very infrequent), I happened to catch it using my pulse-oximeter and blood-pressure cuff. I was able to get into to see a doctor at the time it was happening, which they were able to diagnose atrial-fibrillation (a-fib). It had some very screwy characteristics as it was a very low rhythm comparatively speaking. Still the rhythm was confirmed. That sent me to an electro-physiologist (EP) to take it further. After wearing a remote pain in the butt monitor for 30-days, they still couldn't capture it. Several other tests indicated my overall heart and cardiovascular system was in great condition - just that pesky a-fib thing that they couldn't capture. The EP is actually a serious cyclist himself as well. I've known him for about 10-years. We've discussed various training methods outside of this situation before. He knows what he is dealing with when it comes to me. He told me to continue my training and plan on doing LOTOJA that September, or to call him if anything changed - with a follow up visit scheduled for a few weeks after the race.

On race day things started out normal, with a group that I knew would get fast going into the 22-mile climb at Mink Creek. Climbing that first hill going into Riverdale, Idaho, I completely went flat. I just assumed it was my poor conditioning and was resigned to catching whatever groups I could going to Montpelier. At Montpelier I was gassed - as in never have I ever felt that bad. I new continuing would mean a hell of a time on my own, with winds straight on going through Star Valley. At that point my gut told me to quit - against all other instincts. I pulled the plug and threw my bike on the truck - it was over. The next day when I docked my Garmin, I had logged 90-minutes in zone-4 with 45-minutes in zone-5. My heartrate peaked at 172 BPM which is completely off the charts for my age - especially for that long. No, I wasn't in danger of a stroke or heart attack, but I was literally running on half a heart for nearly 3-hours. A few weeks later when I met with the EP, he looked at me funny like I was telling him a story. Again, he told me to keep going and let him know if anything changed.

Fast forward to March. With snow still on the ground, I was doing hill intervals on the hardtail trying to get in front of things for the season. On the 8th I did a full session with my heart rate peaking at 157 BPM (low end of zone-5), with 1 minute recoveries at 95-105 BPM - right where it is supposed to be. On the 10th I had been working all day and felt totally gassed, but still was committed to doing hill intervals. I made it through 2 full climbs and was halfway through the third when I decided to call it quits for the night. When I docked the Garmin I saw a sharp contrast to the effort two days before. Peak heartrate was 172 BPM, with the recovery never dropping below 140 BPM. Armed with the graphical data (and I am a data guy), I went back to see the EP. This time he believed me, as I had the graphs to show him. As a matter of urgency regarding the training season, he wanted me in for an ablation in early May. On May 16th, I had an ablation to remedy the erratic and unpredictable a-fib thing. They found no problems such as scar tissue or other damage. The best he could tell me was just a combination of some stupid stuff - like high intensity interval training for years, but nobody really knows for sure. 

After the procedure, I was back on the spin bike less than 2-days later. Back doing hill intervals at normal rate on day 4. After about two weeks, I couldn't get my heart rate above 150 BPM, but my recovery was still spot on. Doing a follow up visit with his PA, it was decided that I should forgo any long distance endurance stuff for 90-days. That put me out of Leadville for sure, but gives me an opportunity to dive back into LOTOJA - albeit with very limited training. If 90-days puts me at around August 14th, that gives me less than one full month of riding to pull off LOTOJA. Basically it is something like 9-days prior to the Cache Valley Century. Sounds a little tight to me - but it's better than nothing. I'm still shooting for it, with key mile-stones and markers to hit along the way.

Putting it all into context

So.... this past spring I went down to see Reed while he was in the rehab hospital at the U. He was there again for over a month, still putting up a fight. He told me they had only given him 6-months to live when he was first diagnosed, but at that point he had already made it 15-months. This during the time I was uncertain about the ablation, as they hadn't even scheduled me yet. In fact, I wasn't sure what my prognosis would be. After a couple visits with Reed and his wife, I really had a glimpse of what a stud he is - being so optimistic. He wasn't pissed off, no little rain clouds, no pity - just happy for each day he had to spend with his wife, even if it wasn't exactly ideal. WHAT A STOIC! And here I was moping about my petty little problems.

I have made this point over and over again. There are people who would give their eye-teeth to suffer on a bicycle by their own choice, versus what they are dealing with. Sure, it's only riding my bike, but I still can ride my bike and by hell I will show up to that starting line with every intention of following through like I have done for some many years. Sure that's a big check for my body to cash, but I do have the capacity to make it happen - somehow.

Being called out

Occasionally we all need to be called out for our inadequacies. In this case, I had been really thinking about it for some time, but really wasn't sure how, or where to start again (writing). It takes a special pain in the "hunna" (as coach Save would like to say) to get a point across. Here's the bottom line; we are all capable of being better than we are. As we get older we somehow believe we don't need to go through the same process of reinventing ourselves to actually be our true selves. Right, sounds backward, but it's true. We sell sell out to the first and easiest thing that comes along - making us feel comfortable. Well...being comfortable will get you killed in nature. You have to really know who you are, not what you want other people to think you are. Be true to yourself - and I mean your real self. Nobody cares if you are a self proclaimed hard-ass. Be what you were built to be - like when you were six-years old. Put away the facade. Drop the mask. So there may be a few scars. Wear them with pride, but don't let them reshape you. The true story of the Elephant Man speaks to this point exactly. An elegant example of presenting yourself as you are and being that person you in fact were born to be. Here were are.........

More updates

In know it is late, but there will be regular updates for the rest of the season - regardless of how everything stacks up. It won't be easy and hasn't been to this point. Stick around. We have a steep hill to climb.......

Going back a few years. Thanks for the reminder "IZ"

Click here for Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World - Israel Kamakawio'ole

Ride HARD! (like you mean it)

Where it all Started

 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......."

Click here for EW&F - Shinning Star, '75 was pretty good.

 

Ride HARD!

Nothing like the last minute

 

The dreaded snow-bike - somebody's bad idea.

Putting things off too long

Here it is, literally the last minute.....again. I swore Id not let the yearend creep up on me, but who am I kidding. I'll never learn. So which is it, culture or behavior? Either way it is chronic. I could say that my fledgling little consulting business is consuming all of my time, but it is only a matter of priorities - or a simple lack of them. Success cannot not be left to simmer on the back burner, nor can life in general. I've said this too many times, but being comfortable will get you killed in this life and I think I'm getting too comfortable. So now I have ask the question; what is it really costing me? Do I really want to know? I hate the melancholy of the year end.

Early snow and a moon rising over Ben from S. Willard

Running into Reed this evening

Clients have been keeping me hopping - a lot. I have had this past year on my mind a lot in the most recent few weeks. This was especially true of our brother and his fight. I had thought to send him a message, but it just didn't seem to lend itself to he practical, or sincere. Again, I'm just a procrastinator - them's the facts. So.....earlier this evening I was on my way home from a very long day meeting with clients and their "opportunities", when I decided to stop at the Winco in Layton - for whatever reason. I hate shopping and am usually in and out of those places very quickly. As I was pushing the stupid shopping cart, I was looking at what I had tossed in the basket, wondering why it was I needed to stop at all. And then, like out of nowhere - there was Reed pushing a shopping-cart himself. I would never had expected to see him in such a place, but there he was - the same kid from our youth. Still the brightness that I remembered, but yet had also somehow forgotten. We chatted for a minute, but as shallow as the context may have been.....it cut deep. As I stood there I suddenly felt terribly small and inadequate. Realizing how I failed and how I met the meaning of that phrase "chicken-shit". But then I like I always seem to do, looking back at it a short time later, I had to remind my shallow self that its not about me. But there I was sizing up my inadequacy against the strength of a man that is fighting a battle that is more than most of us will ever understand. I don't believe in absolute coincidence, but then why did that have to happen? The message to me was very simple; quit whining, stop pouting and for hell sakes....stop making excuses. In those few words from Reed; he is very grateful, but doesn't take anything for granted (although he didn't use those exact words - but that was his message to me). That is why he is truly larger than life and a truly inspirational person - if we choose to face the truth. So...excuses aside, its time to put down the frivolous and take-up the fight. MAKE IT COUNT!

How I miss that pain.....heading back over Monte from Woodruff.

A couple past jersey sleeves

I have a ton of picts from years past. Some like the one above remind me of what suffering can feel like. Then there are the ones like those below that remind me of how insignificant my petty suffering actually is. Howard D. is my son-in-laws dad. He was fighting his own battle at that time, when his son was my support crew chief. He lost his fight only a few months later. The blue sleeve....well he lost his fight earlier that season. Since then we have lost too many others, Cynthia, Mark and of course sweet Laurie....and those are only a few. So here's the thing, it's time to put things in order and carry that load as if I really mean it at all. But then again, it's not about me. It is about those individuals being THE strength and inspiration. How can I be so ungrateful as to not walk upright and tall in their honor and memory. Afterall, it's not like I'm taking incoming fire or anything like that. I just wilt to the weakness of the flesh. Time to assess and take an inventory. Give it 30 days and then swing back around.

Thanks for putting me in my place Reed. Nothing is by coincidence........

One for the barn....

Click here for a little truth from Paul & Linda (and the boys)

The Porpoise - 2024

Looking for the offramp

When the smallest tree can make the longest shadow on the mountain....

Noticing

The other morning something caught my attention across the mountain, just off the side of the rock face. The conditions had to be exactly right for this to happen; sun very low on the horizon, enough snow to not cover the tree too much, perfectly clear blue sky (a ton of heavy smog/fog in the lower valley) and exactly the right time of the morning. The position of that particular tree atop the crest of a hill, allows its shadow to cast many times longer than the height of the tree itself, whereas the tree directly below can only cast its shadow just over that crest. This will only happen for a few days at most and the conditions have to be exactly right for it to happen - but that day it was very noticeable. That's one of those things in life that come along sparingly.... Catch them when you can. Be larger than your own self, when life permits.

 

In the brush heading up Mules Ear

Seems like a lifetime ago

So much has happened this past summer. Searching through the pictures of this past season, it just seems to have been in another lifetime. Frankly, it was a year worth forgetting. What started out as early optimism, eventually turned into one distraction after another. Stupid unfounded heart issues, followed by structural failures....the summer just got off to a bad footing. Trying to make it up on a short timeframe was not a winning strategy either. Frustration fraught with a bad attitude and that bad attitude really cost me in the end. There weren't nearly enough dirt rides up in the park and the rides on the hard tail was just stacking miles in the end - something I swore off a long time ago. Gone are those days where I would get on my road bike early in morning and disappear until later in the afternoon - spent and burned from a long day just stacking those miles. Perhaps this is what happens when....life happens. Priorities change and before you know it, life has passed you by.

So, what about this heart thing anyway?

Sometime about the middle of May, I started to have what felt like heart palpitations, followed by occasions of lite-headedness when I'd stand up. I keep track of these things and have a cuff and pulse-oximeter. They were telling me my heart rhythm was screwed up, so I decided to go to the clinic and have it checked out. Sure enough, they diagnosed it as atrial-fibrillation. Next stop was the hospital, at which point they hooked we up again and said it was happening while I was sitting there. Funny thing, I didn't feel any different than just normal - like.....lets go move a piano or something like that. What was very unusual, my heartrate was only fluctuating between between 65 - 75 BPM, where as A-fib usually is in the range of 200 BPM. I mean, I do have a naturally low resting heartrate like in the mid to high 40's, but that still didn't make much sense. A couple weeks later I'm in seeing an electro-physiologist, coincidently a hardcore cyclist himself. He prescribed a heart monitor for 30 days - which is such a serious hassle. Through all of that, not a single problem - none at all. He was still pretty skeptical, but told me to go ride and come back to see him a few weeks after the race. On that return visit, I told him that during the race I peaked my heartrate at 170 BPM, was anaerobic for something like 35 minutes and over 2 full hours in transition. When he heard that his eyes got really big and said, something like wow! I was certain he would want to perform an ablation, but he asked a few questions and we discussed training levels further before he told me to go home and stay after it. Call him if something changed, but otherwise nothing to see here. 

Basically, I think I was fighting a bug that caused the irregular heart rhythm, resulting in the fibrillation.  The electro-physiologist says that A-fib is common in amateur endurance athletes, as we tend to stress our hearts - a lot. Professional endurance athletes don't have this problem as they train for 30 hours a week in zones 2 & 3. Regardless, it is a thing to keep in mind and monitor, but I can't let it slow me down. For now, manage the diet and stay diligent. 

Time to wrap it up....

Another week or so, and we'll put this season in the can.....and to the bottom of the ocean. Training plans need to be set out and detailed. Next year has to be something more than ordinary. In fact, it needs to be extraordinary - nothing less. That will require planning, drive, sacrifice and diligence.  A little more on that in the next week or so. There are also a few loose ends to tie-up along the way....so maybe a couple more posts. Until then...rock it wherever life takes you.

Click here for "The Other Guy" - a twelve bar twist to a classic

Keep taking that pull for Reed.

Things are closing down

 

2023 SR39 Monte Cristo, Snow-gate closed late into the year.

Changes and regrets

Yesterday marked the official closing of Monte Cristo. The snow-gate on the west side (Ogden Valley) is at MP 37, whereas the gate on the east side (Rich County) is between MP's 55 & 56. Who's to say what the winter and the spring (for that matter) will bring. It may be mid-June before that gate is opened again. Even if it is a mild winter, DOT won't open it again until sometime in May at the very earliest. It seems kind of silly as they put a ton of money into that road every year, only to have it open for half of the year. Not a lot can be done other than lament the lost opportunities and think of what can be....next time. And there is the phrase that really says it all - "next time". How many times have I personally thought what I would do if I had to do it all over again? Lets not dig up that garbage right now.

Snow to stay

This past week has seen the seasonal snow hit North Fork for the long haul. Temps going into the previous couple weeks we regularly into the low teens at night, meaning a frost was pushing into the soil. The foot of very wet and dense snow we had yesterday is here to stay until spring. I'm still not sure about that snow-bike, but I'm still not giving up on dragging a bike somewhere to get a little riding in before the lower valley is also out of commission for the season. The image above was from a warm summer's evening at the end of doing some hill repeats. Sweating my gut out, glad for the break out of the sun and punishing heat. That seems like a lifetime ago. Now the drill is getting up at 04:00 most mornings to see if snow needs to be moved before starting the day. We could have days where I have to move snow several times, or may not see a storm for months - you never really know how the winter will develop. Meanwhile, keeping atop the task is critical, if not impossible sometimes. Winter can be hard and they seem to get longer as I get older. Maybe I am getting older.....

An August Ride  - Looking toward Randolph from Woodruff.

Too Comfortable

There is this thing phycologists call "Stockholm Syndrome", where a captive takes to defending the captor to the point of even joining the perpetrator in the restraining effort. This was the defense some fifty-years ago when Patty Hurst joined her captors and became a "rebel" herself. I'm not sure I believe that particular case, but I do know it is real. The premise that when a person is a captive and sees their captor as the thing that is keeping them alive, maybe even being protected by said captor. At that point surviving becomes comfortable and survival instincts are reprogrammed. Such is the case for anyone that gets too comfortable, as we can become captive to something that is holding us back. So you have to ask yourself (as I seem to do all too often without an answer), what is that thing that is keeping us comfortable? Truth is, being comfortable is dangerous. Whether it is sleeping-in, eating to excess, clicking on the next video....what is it that keeps us from breaking out of captivity? The first step to any such situation is to fully recognize and accept that it is real. From there must follow a desire to break away. Far too often I personally find myself giving into a situation that in a previous consciousness, I would never have considered. But here I am again. Sound familiar? Eventually I loose my willingness to fight back - something I could never imagine. But I seem to allow myself to be positioned into a corner, back against a wall, having few if any options. This being comfortable thing is too enticing.

Wrapping up in the next couple of weeks....

Looking for a suitable off-ramp. Stick around. Still have some pulling to do.

Classic Jeff "Skunk" Baxter - Click here for "Bodhisattva"

Pulling for Reed! Stick around..

Turning Pages

A short break between storms....a sucker hole.

 Times are changing

The sun low on the horizon is definitely a sign of the seasons. There was a day, maybe when I was much younger, I loved this particular time of year. I loved to be out in the field hunting just about anything. Well before I was old enough to carry a gun myself, I would lay awake in bed in anticipation of waking up early and driving into the unknown darkness with my dad - to where adventure would await. I remember one morning I woke up sicker than a dog. No way I was going to tell my dad, as he wouldn't let me go with him. There was no way I would miss that opportunity - sick or not. Generally the conditions were miserable. Cold, windy, wet.....always out well before sun up. It didn't matter to me. I learned early on that I could suffer through anything if it was something I truly wanted - and suffer I did, but I loved every minute of it. As I got older, these trips were less to do with my dad, replaced by friends or co-workers, but it just wasn't the same. My dad was older than all of my friends parents by a long way. I mean, he seemed to be closer to the age of some grandparent than the parents of my friends and teammates. Still, he would hike up and down those fields pushing whatever we were after. Boy could he shoot! I can't tell you the kinds of shots that "old bird" made over the years. Those days slowly ended and my hunting was soon just me and my loyal yellow-lab. Why that dog was ever so loyal to me is still a mystery, as dogs generally have a pretty good judge of a mans character. Eventually that dog died and my hunting days kind of ended. All the places I used to go chase coyotes became inaccessible - more or less. The hours alone with my coyote gun on snowshoes was always time to reflect, but that ended eventually as well. Tomorrow marks two years since I told my former employer to "go & piss up a rope" - which probably requires considerable surface tension. It just seems the sun low on the horizon does me no good anymore.

The hardtail in 30° riding conditions

Pushing through

Back in my college days, it seemed there was always something that gave you hope. Looking past the week, staying up late to get something done, knowing it was only ten-weeks  (the quarter system). The time I squandered doing nothing but anything that didn't seem to matter. Then wondering why I was always finding myself against the wall when it came time for mid-terms or finals. Some how I managed to get through, but it wasn't pretty at times. I've learned a lot over the years, but still find myself getting burned out and not focusing on the important things. Now days it seems tasks are just lined up from one to the next, with no general purpose. It's in those moments you just have to keep chopping wood - head down and swinging until the task has been completed. Storms are lining-up in the Pacific again, indicating the likelihood of another hard winter. I have a lot of office work in the mill, but also have a ton of field work to make it all happen. Spring is not that far off, but until then I'll just keep chopping the wood. 

Darn cold in Woodruff at the moment, but....

What I wouldn't give....

How may times have you ever thought how you wished you could do what you otherwise couldn't do at that moment? You know, the greener grass? Riding Woodruff is a helluva ride - kind of a ride through hell to be honest. That said, I miss that particular kind of suffering, only to know that one day it will be behind me - never to be on my yearly training list again. The heat of climbing up that backside, headwind straight into the nose. The posture fatigue and cramps. Running out of water, looking for anything that resembles shade. What I wouldn't give to be in that place right now. Here's the thing, there is a price to pay before making that ride - like a ton of work and dedication. Early mornings doing indoor routines while not able to get outside. Managing the machine that has to carry me over the top of a lot of mountains - discipline, discipline, discipline. And then there is what I do, which doesn't look anything like discipline. Kind of make me wonder what I could really do if I did focus for a fraction of the time that I should. But that seems to be how life is; wishing for something that we end up squandering anyway - until we realize what we really have and then it's too late. 

Here's to growing up and still not getting it right most of the time....

Click here for some classic GLAM - the DOLLS "Stranded in the Jungle"

Still pulling for Reed! And he's doin' it!

Another Trip Around the Sun?

From the Vault - Autumn sunrise 2020

 Birthday wishes

Funny how we may become fixated on the laps of time and our ever increasing age. Truth is, we have gained a lot of experience in our time here on the "big blue marble". Sometimes the benefit of that experience gets lost in the desire to put pain and misery behind us, when we should hold every one of those as monuments to our character growth. It has made us who we are. So what is really in a happy birthday wish anyway? Sure, there is the wish for all things that are good, prosperity and health. But what makes us grow to become stronger is our capacity to overcome hardship - so why not which for those things that will makes us more than we already are. I wouldn't suggest dwelling on the negative, but certainly don't discard it either. All that said, here's to another year of good health, prosperity and all that comes with those things.

Things in common

A couple weeks ago, I was able to share an evening with a couple of my most favorite people in the world. An occasion to see that troupe "Leonid and Friends" - a genuine great time. And what makes it great is everything and everyone there. These guys  (L&F) are great and I recommend it to anyone that enjoys a great live act. These guys are perhaps the hardest working act on the road today. I mean....we're talking a Russian, Chicago cover band, but that really doesn't cover the depth of the experience. Find these guys on YouTube, or go to their website. Simply amazing! The second time we've seen them, as we caught them last year during their first visit to the Beehive. So what does this have to do with things in common? It made me realize how much so many of us cling to the same things from our youth. In one particular part, the sax-payer is doing a little "guess that song" and veers unexpectedly in to a chorus of "Sweet Caroline". The entirely packed crowd at Kingsbury Hall start singing along with him, as he plays impromptu and solo as though an anthem. But then that short chorus part- everyone singing in unison;

"Swett Caroline, 

                            bum,

                                    bum,

                                            bum,

                                                       Good times never seemed to be so good."

It was at that moment I understood we all had these similar experiences growing up - seared into our souls. And then the part when technology showed its head, where cell phone lights were all lit in place of what used to be the convenient BIC lighter. This woman in front of kicking it old school, pulls out the real things and strikes up the torch - CLASSIC & AWESOME! In those moments all differences are checked at the door and our common interests prevail. Embrace those things that we have in common and don't focus on our differences. It's amazing how much we do have in common with each other despite some differences. Maybe, just maybe we can learn to amplify our similarities and forget that we have any differences. That doesn't mean we give up on our personal convictions, only keep them in check and respect and appreciate those things we do share. After all, its a big sand box and we need to share with others.....

A little rag-horn.....

Still getting the miles on......

The colder weather has caused a delay on rides on days that I can actually ride, but I'm still getting out when I can - while I still can. I ran across this little bull elk up west of the Monastery the other day. All alone and only about 100-yards off the road. It was in no hurry to get up, but also didn't seem to be distressed. I couldn't get close enough to see if it had ben wounded, but I suspect it ran off from a hunting unit a few miles up the mountain. It's just one of those things you stumble across when you are stacking miles. Riding this late in the year is truly different, as the sun is so low on the horizon, that even it's direct effect is limited. Layered up, most days I get back with feet and hands cold, with my core pouring sweat. It makes you feel alive and invested.

Looking forward

Old reliable atop Copper Mountain - 12,313 feet

2021 was a year nearly as bad as this past year. If I learned anything that year, it was that I can ride at 12,000 feet without much difficulty - I just have to screw my head on straight. Next year we are going back with the hardtail to finally challenge Leadville. Sure, there is a lot that can and will likely happen before next year. But why should that matter. If you keep your head pointed toward something long enough, you'll eventually find yourself at that place. To do it on your terms you have to be persistent and undeterred. So here we all are looking out over that horizon at what we hope to be and do. But are we equipped and willing to take on the challenge that comes with the dream? Afterall, without a plan, action and effort - it will only be a dream. And with that in mind, when did you dream about where you are today? Time to get off the duff and make it happen on your own terms....

A birthday gift.....

Out on the back patio with Helen, singing along.....

Click here for "Sister Golden Hair" America - A Birthday Memory

Pulling for Reed! Ride HARD!