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!