tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22897567948220373302024-03-19T13:30:41.410-07:00Dirt, rocks, and snowRandom musings and tales of adventure, and maybe a mountaintop snack or two...Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-24674697253069223972019-04-10T09:20:00.000-07:002020-04-09T15:01:30.376-07:002018 Single Speed World Championships: let the good times roll!!<div>
Even if not many people read this, I had to re-live it just one more time, so here's the best I can come up with almost 6 months after the fact.<br />
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There are, in my opinion, two kinds of mountain bikers: those who think single speed mountain biking sounds ridiculous and/or awful and would never try it, and those who think it looks like a good time or are already hooked on it. The second group is what brought me to partake in the 2018 Single Speed World Championship, a legendary unsanctioned event which pokes fun at organized bicycle racing, while still having some fierce competition at the front of the pack, and inspiring camaraderie and also a little bit of competition among us "beer league" racers as well. The awards are simple: first place for men and women get a tattoo, and dead last gets some special prize determined by the race organizers.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entry form art.</td></tr>
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While SSWC is widely thought of as just another excuse to party and drink ridiculous amounts of beer (let's face it, that is part of the thing), 2018's edition promised to be a bike experience that will not be soon forgotten. As soon as I heard that it would be held in Bend, Oregon, I made a note of it on my calendar and promised to get us both to the starting line. Bend is home to an incredible network of mountain bike trails, and a similarly large number of breweries, so I had an inclination that it was going to be an event of epic proportions.<br />
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Since Kit and I are usually the first ones to bail and go home to bed while attempting to "party," but we do both enjoy a cold beverage after a long bike ride, it sounded like an ideal combination: turned loose to pedal on a mystery race course crossing terrain that is rarely touched by mountain bikes, and meeting so many like-minded folks from around the nation and world. Also, having a pint or two with new friends after crushing the longest single speed ride of our lives...<br />
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The only part in question: when some vague details about the course were announced, it would be 40+ miles in length and consist of around 4,000 feet of climbing. Ack! That's a big ride even on a comfy, squishy bike with gears!! How would my neck hold up to such a long time on a bike, having just graduated from physical therapy in the spring? I knew one thing was for certain, and that's if I could finish this race, I could do just about anything else on a bike after that!<br />
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The extra-fun-added entry method was participating in a coloring contest to send in with the entry fee, and not only did I spend an inordinate amount of time letting my inner child have fun with it, I made Kit sit down with the colored pencil set and make his own rendition. Neither of us expected to see our artwork on display at the race headquarters, but we picked ours out on a big board behind the table upon arriving to pick up our numbers and goodie bags. Pretty neat!<br />
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Along with the artwork, an array of bicycles was strewn about the courtyard, from slick carbon fiber machines to fatbikes, custom steel frames, to something cobbled together from the late 1990's-early 2000's like Kits bike and mine. It's this diversity in attitudes that makes single speeds so much fun--not that mountain biking in general isn't fun--but it's become so serious with nearly everyone riding carbon full suspension wonder bikes and wearing the latest enduro-specific fanny packs while checking the Strava times on the last segment... SSWC is 99% not serious, and that's what makes it such a ridiculously good time!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to roll.</td></tr>
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We missed the pub crawl with Bend native and 2008 SSWC winner Carl Decker, but tagged along with another group ride that led us through Bend's rolling singletrack right out of town up to a dirt jump park and an impromptu hillclimb contest. The bike-ability of the town was one of the perks of the event, being within pedaling distance of just about all the fun. That night was the hosting competition to decide where next year's race would be held; it consisted of drinking games with all of the contestants, and then the two finalists building and paddling a raft from cardboard bike boxes and duct tape across the Deschutes river. Brrrrrr!! New York actually made it across the river so they beat out Durango for the win, but then awarded hosting privileges to Slovenia because they put in such a good effort and everyone wanted them to win anyway.<br />
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Hopefully you didn't get too intoxicated the night before, because the race started bright and early at 10AM the next day. Our lovely Bend host dropped us off in an industrial parking lot amid an enormous, milling crowd of bikers dressed in everything from spandex race kits to unicorn onesies, and we wandered around a bit until we found some friends from the previous day's ride. First, Carl Decker gave a quick talk about the course and the heinous torture we were in for, and then a "neutral roll-out" (aka chaotic stampede of close to 700 people) to the dirt road and actual race start ensued. Kit and I decided we'd see how we felt at the short course bailout point, but it seemed silly to come so far for the experience and then only ride half the distance.<br />
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The stampede thinned out as faster riders rode away from the pack and slower riders fell back. We were somewhere in the middle but too far back to hear the starter's gun as the leaders passed by. I was passed by a shark mashing on the pedals, tagged along behind a couple on a tandem for a few minutes and then passed a guy in a black and white houndstooth suit spinning out on a unicycle. It looked brutal, I wonder how he ended up feeling?<br />
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4 miles ticked by and then we were on the dirt road and engulfed in a giant dust cloud. There was a pit of moondust that claimed many victims, but I stayed upright and pedaled onward chasing Kit's quickly disappearing back wheel. The first aid station had a line about a quarter mile long--apparently everyone was thirsty at this point and had their commemorative silicone pint glasses in hand to be filled from a keg. Probably destined for the short course, I guessed. I passed on the early race beer, squeezed by the crowd and pedaled onward and upward. And upward... I rejoined Kit after the aid station, following the relentlessly climbing fire road.<br />
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Finally hearing cowbells and rounding a bend, we stared incredulously at a line of people pushing or shouldering bikes up a steep slope of volcanic scree. We soon joined the line trudging slowly to the top of the hill, and within five minutes were nearing the top where the racket of cowbells and yelling grew louder and beers were handed out trailside at a convenient mountaintop aid station. A sign announced "Hospital Hill" which explained everything about the racket. Spectators love carnage... Many riders either chose to walk from the top, or decided partway down that it was a better idea (occasionally it was decided for them). Kit dove in on two wheels and I followed, cursing my bike's late-1990's geometry and very short travel fork. At least I had disc brakes, those help! Despite gravity's best efforts I avoided wrecking, dragging a foot now and then and reached the bottom of the steep pitch with great relief. Continuing onto singletrack and the occasional fire road, the descent continued at a much more relaxed pace, until we reached the point of decision. Turn right and head 10 miles to the finish, beers, and real food, or turn left into 30 more miles of the unknown.<br />
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Into the unknown it was. Absolutely the right decision, as well, following old school MTB legend Jacquie Phelan for a few minutes before passing her. We settled into another long grinding and very dusty fire road climb, sometimes having to get off and hike. There was so much walking that it probably gave the pedal pushing muscles a nice rest, for a change. Somewhere in there, Carl Decker's dad was playing jazz trombone with a drummer, absolutely out in the middle of nowhere. After another unknown number of miles we came upon a mountain top aid station, complete with freshly blended smoothies and margaritas, hot dogs on a grill, and a living room hookah lounge. Because mountain tops are the best places to snack, we spent a little more time here hanging out and enjoying the views and of course, watching the many colorful characters that rolled through.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A course profile.</td></tr>
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Tired legs were thrown over bicycles again before they got too comfortable, and we descended into a solid chunk of motorcycle singletrack with some fun sections, miles of whoops, interspersed with spectacular volcanic views. Kit's front wheel found a random log in the trail and he endoed out of nowhere as we were chasing down a small group of riders up ahead. All was well and he continued on, maybe a slight bit more dusty than before. At last, and feeling ready to be done pretty soon, we rolled into the final aid station and gobbled down some gummy bears to get us to the finish, an indeterminate number of miles away but definitely closer than it had been before. Not knowing how far we still had to go, or how my legs were still turning the pedals, we were at least distracted by descending for a few miles through a gully that was an absolute hoot. Winding downhill while swooping back and forth got us grinning again through the tired haze. Then, I wrecked trying to get a little too sideways on a loose downhill and wound up with some tiny little rock souvenirs in my elbow, to be later removed by our gracious hosts as I tried my hardest to avoid looking at it and throwing up.<br />
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At long last a road appeared, with cars parked alongside. Shortly after, we were launching off some small rocks to cowbells and cheering, presumably close to the finish, but then the course tape went back uphill and through some tight switchbacks. So, not the finish yet... After the freshly-cut trail crossed through some manzanita, it dropped steeply into a box canyon. Easily the highlight of the entire course, this last tiny chunk of trail was a work of art: taking a roller coaster line back and forth across the canyon, under a tunnel of rock, and down some steep pitches and finally up a short climb and out to the finish.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIE8avS2RSgpi5H6jZNbC9WXytbnNSU1w10brjzqzKexgbDQT6Pa31uh7cREmxUnKJvlwTGGLIIdDqu-O6qxJQ-zxt6Gz7MvsnAmNgFGmorUnQW8sRY4HWQUEubbRotgM_I7nziJjr4xU/s1600/44519427_559383575427_6968528066314240000_o+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIE8avS2RSgpi5H6jZNbC9WXytbnNSU1w10brjzqzKexgbDQT6Pa31uh7cREmxUnKJvlwTGGLIIdDqu-O6qxJQ-zxt6Gz7MvsnAmNgFGmorUnQW8sRY4HWQUEubbRotgM_I7nziJjr4xU/s400/44519427_559383575427_6968528066314240000_o+%25281%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a> As I rolled through the finish, there was still room for my name on the super official piece of plywood used to post results, and it was written on in Sharpie next to a time of 4:52. Yes, that's right, 4 hours and 52 minutes of pedaling. I did it! We did it!! Unfortunately, also as we crossed the finish the announcer says "you heard that right, folks... we're now officially out of beer..." Bummer. Oh well. Those short course bums had their priorities, I guess. At least there were still burrito fixings in abundance, so we made those, rolled them up into foil and stuffed into our packs to be eaten with a proper celebratory beverage. I didn't feel very hungry just yet, but the 6 miles of cool down ride back into town helped with that. While we were chowing down burritos back in town at the race headquarters, the women's race winner Rachel Lloyd sat down and chatted with us for a few minutes. That was rad!!<br />
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Surprisingly, I don't remember being miserable for most of the race, despite my worst fears. It just goes to show that you never know until you try something for the first time. There were probably some riders who suffered a lot more, but our pace felt fine . I was immersed in a dust cloud quite often though--I suspect I inhaled more of it in that race than any other time in my entire mountain biking career. Sure wish I had somebody get a photo of Kit and I at the finish, but everybody was more or less similarly caked in a thick layer. SSWC I think is the essence of what mountain biking has always been from the beginning: sure, it gets a little competitive from time to time, but is mostly about sharing good times on two wheels with a bunch of rad people. And nobody cares what kind of bike you're riding.<br />
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Because I was too busy relishing the experience to take photos, here is an excellent gallery that gives a taste of how dusty and ridiculous the whole thing was:<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/127091192@N03/sets/72157672657129317/">https://www.flickr.com/photos/127091192@N03/sets/72157672657129317/</a></div>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-5790733992244728072019-01-24T09:41:00.000-08:002019-01-24T17:30:35.593-08:00Part 2: Fears, Tears, and Beers Mountain Bike EnduroA noteworthy event happened in early June: I got Kit to enter a mountain bike race! The Fears, Tears, and Beers in Ely, NV is claimed to be the longest-running mountain bike enduro race in the country, started by a couple of moto guys in 2006. You might ask, what kind of mountain biking could there possibly be in eastern Nevada? As it turns out, the trails of Ely are extensive and ridable right from town. I sold him on the fact that it was supposed to be a simple grassroots event to showcase the local trails--welcoming to all levels of racers and without the usual hardcore race attitude, it serves as a fundraiser for the local trail building group the Great Basin Trails Alliance. After participating once, I'd say it is the ultimate non-racer's race: you can be as competitive as you want, or just enjoy the company and the grand tour of Ely's local trails.<br />
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Given the low-key atmosphere, and the horrific thought of doing back to back 30-mile days this early in the season, pre-riding seemed out of the question so Kit squeezed in a half day at work and we rolled into Ely the evening before the race. I had signed up for the Pro class which consisted of 6 stages throughout a 33-mile day and about 5,400' of elevation gain. Not having entered very many enduro races, this was going to be the biggest day I've ever had on a mountain bike, and it was also going to be a major test of how strong my neck had gotten with 6 months of physical therapy following the fall's whiplash injury. Kit signed up for the Sport class but ended up doing the Expert race and the same stages as me aside from the last bonus shuttle for the Pros--one of the neat parts about this race is that you can change categories during the race depending on how you feel. </div>
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At the start of the race, the entire field rolled through the Jailhouse casino, a race tradition, before pedaling out of town and up to the first stage. It was a long climb and I started to doubt myself being able to finish such a long day only partway up, having to get off and push my bike far more than expected. The first stage was short, turny, and pedally, and I wasn't fully in race mode so my time was pretty pathetic. Stage 2 was longer and faster and felt much better, but in the transfer to stage 3 my left leg cramped up. I had almost finished a bottle of electrolyte mix, sharing some with Kit, but I stretched and downed the rest, and ate a few dried banana slices for good measure. I was able to keep pedaling without further incident. The next stage was really fun, and I managed to come really close to the eventual winner's time for the women, who had pre-ridden the entire course.<br />
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Following stage 3 we went back to the camper for some more snacks and hydration, and a little break in the shade before heading out on the second (and more difficult) part of the course. The temperature was heating up, and given that I had already cramped once, I hoped it would not happen again! It was at this point that Kit decided to continue racing with me instead of stopping after the shorter Sport course--a decision he may have regretted for a little while later on.<br />
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We climbed up past the railroad tracks and to the start of stage 4, as the historic steam train chugged past and whistled, a reminder to check out the Ely Railroad Museum the next day. Stage 4 was the worst, partly because the timer's clock had a temperature reading and I noticed that it was getting up in the 90's--very warm for a bike race--and partly because it was a mostly flat powerline access road with short descents followed by short climbs to sprint up. So much hard pedaling that I sort of gave up toward the end, feeling annoyed that the stage kept going and going, and not having adequately trained for those kind of efforts. Backcountry ski touring doesn't usually involve such things... It wasn't the most fun stage, but it sort of made sense to throw in another timed section to make it more interesting.<br />
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Before stage 4, I was under the impression that we climbed to the top of a small mountain (hill) just above town for stage 5, the Whorehouse Hill descent, until the finish timer pointed to the top of a larger mountain behind it and said to follow the road to the top. Thus began the next hour plus of suffering as we sometimes pedaled but mostly pushed our bikes up a steep jeep road, in the blazing sun. We'd pedal when it was possible until it got too hard, then get off and push until the walking muscles were tired and the grade mellowed out enough to pedal again. It was pretty brutal and miserable, and I was glad to have Kit's company even though he was probably having second thoughts about racing bikes by now. Finally the radio towers were in sight with the start of stage 5 just below. Reaching the top, I ate some food and found a place to lay down in the shade, feeling incredibly un-motivated about getting back on the bike, even for all downhill. Riding down in the truck with the volunteers sounded much more appealing. It took a solid half hour for both of us to feel like starting the stage!<br />
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As reluctant as I was to start, once I was rolling down the trail I started having fun again. It might have been nice to pre-ride this trail since it was quite a bit more steep and technical than the previous stages we'd raced. A narrow little wooden ramp over a log caught me by surprise but I rode it successfully; then lower down I was on the wrong line into a little rock garden, wasn't sure my little bike could roll it so I freaked out and hopped off to carry my bike down it. Aside from that, it went well, including the lower section dropping into town that was so steep and loose that everybody had been talking about it beforehand.<br />
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With stage 5 done, Kit's day was finished, but I still had one more to go. The Pro riders had shuttles waiting to bring us all to the top of the very first climb we had done in the morning so we could race all the way down that trail. My butt was sore, my neck was tired, and in general my whole body was so toast by this point, but I was obligated to go since my legs still sort of worked to turn the pedals. As it turned out, this was also the most rad stage of the day, with some excitement in the form of small drops and a few jumps, and so many enjoyable corners. I remembered riding up it in the morning and thinking how much fun this trail looked, hoping we'd be heading back down it at some point. I did get a little lost in the flow and forgot to pedal as hard as I should have, and also almost took a wrong turn toward the bottom. Aside from those minor details it was a great way to finish off the day of racing!<br />
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Being the dirtbags that we are, we had not considered booking a hotel room for the night after the race, so we rinsed off at the camper and headed to the awards dinner slightly cleaner and incredibly hungry. Sipping on our complementary racer beers and wondering what kind of food we would be served all the way out in Ely, our worries were quickly put to rest by some amazing tacos and enchiladas, and whatever else there was I don't remember but I ate all of it!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second place trophy!</td></tr>
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<br />
Soon we were all stuffed, and the awards began. With the low-tech timing system the results had to be worked out using the times written on our number plates, so results could not be posted right after the race and nobody knew for certain where they had ended up. I didn't really know what to expect, guessing that I probably didn't win, but they called me up for second place and that was quite a surprise! Mostly, I was excited to make it through such a grueling day on the bike as well as I did. I had done quite a bit of riding leading up to the race and was feeling reasonably fit and prepared, but it was a breakthrough mentally just to know that I could push myself to do something like that again, after the handful of years I had spent being injured and being afraid to go out and do something a little bit crazy.<br />
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A raffle followed the awards, and we stuck around on principle even though neither of us seems to have any luck in raffles these days. When almost all of the prizes had been handed out, a free night at the Jailhouse Casino was up... and guess who won? I did!!! We immediately went across the street to find out if we could get the free room that night. As luck would have it, there was one room available, and it was a pet friendly room so Larry could sleep in there with us! After a long, hot, dusty day in the saddle a shower had never felt so good, and knowing that we might as well just book a room ahead of time for next year's race.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkdZsijdpG5fLBWEB3oojiUW1rcw6WUXM4b-leLfS-dYxSt9k5r98f2F-w37itrfydT7to9K0Sl7l7Ax6jyhXfnciCzB-y5014Z_U-I5Pss13U3BoGTAean5dyCr2grGGvk28n4Limg-Va/s1600/35151730_557251817487_613515183217704960_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkdZsijdpG5fLBWEB3oojiUW1rcw6WUXM4b-leLfS-dYxSt9k5r98f2F-w37itrfydT7to9K0Sl7l7Ax6jyhXfnciCzB-y5014Z_U-I5Pss13U3BoGTAean5dyCr2grGGvk28n4Limg-Va/s640/35151730_557251817487_613515183217704960_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my trusty Ripley... such a good bike, for most things.</td></tr>
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This was also the first big test of the -1 degree Works Components Angleset I had installed on my 2014 Ibis Ripley to slack it out and make it a little bit happier on steep trails. It does add a fair amount of confidence in the steep and techy stuff, and doesn't seem to affect climbing or the quick handling of the bike at all. I'm probably due for a longer travel bike if I'm going to keep racing and jumping off things like I tend to do now that I'm feeling confident again, but I LOVE the Ripley so much for everything except that 5% of the time when I'm terrified facing down a super steep slab or nasty rock garden!</div>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-76335547151472151652019-01-02T21:46:00.001-08:002019-01-03T09:30:43.049-08:002018 in review... part 1, skiing the Mt. Humphreys north couloir<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIroWKsygGFAMj9F2d6hGRKZghwXpYL21YHvFkIDlyLzpKtyqa5OynQ-PCmzISiiExLR45_8z__73RSmGK6h1VYgtC9HiqpMVEVmWWpPgxIBnhAwWa4yl0JZLh4LYtFaFlx8Z6YM32hIgn/s1600/IMG_7528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIroWKsygGFAMj9F2d6hGRKZghwXpYL21YHvFkIDlyLzpKtyqa5OynQ-PCmzISiiExLR45_8z__73RSmGK6h1VYgtC9HiqpMVEVmWWpPgxIBnhAwWa4yl0JZLh4LYtFaFlx8Z6YM32hIgn/s640/IMG_7528.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere near Mt. Baker, 1/1/2018.</td></tr>
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The year of 2018 has gone by in a flash, filled with new friends and new experiences, along with plenty of great times in familiar places with favorite people. It began with a lovely bluebird day ski tour near Mt. Baker in Washington, and ended rather inauspiciously in Tahoe, Kit with two broken arms from a motorcycle incident and me working too many hours over the holidays. In between was jammed with so much goodness, from long ski tours and summiting new peaks, stretching the limits of my comfort zone in a few bike races, and an interesting new career direction, to feeling much more confident on a mountain bike than I've been in recent years after wrecking in 2013.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CcVuC5nmnmUSRW_-kZoVhF8lAdoeiWBcY7jofA005xdAEcXf3mqJ8i5JoJ62lhlNVArLbzgoyipLRXjlYvNA56Lsqc6AfZYTOC8HXwcLtmhDiLGzZ8e1CfyscjUuyGXuHya-zWAynYDK/s1600/IMG_3002+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CcVuC5nmnmUSRW_-kZoVhF8lAdoeiWBcY7jofA005xdAEcXf3mqJ8i5JoJ62lhlNVArLbzgoyipLRXjlYvNA56Lsqc6AfZYTOC8HXwcLtmhDiLGzZ8e1CfyscjUuyGXuHya-zWAynYDK/s640/IMG_3002+3.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had to include more skiing photos: gratuitous powder turns in early spring 2018.</td></tr>
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I'm also averaging 2-3 blog posts a year--not exactly breaking records here. Oh well. It has been a ridiculously busy year! Since I've failed at describing all of the fun things I/we got into directly after they happened (besides the Downieville Classic), I'm going to start a recap here... most of these things are worthy of their own story, so maybe I will just catch up in a series while waiting for Kit to heal up so we can go on some more adventures!<br />
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Before I started work for the summer, Kit and I took a week vacation to camp in the Bishop area and ski some classic lines in the eastern Sierra. The northeast couloir of Mt. Humphreys was another one that stood out in the peaks to the west of Bishop, and was at a high enough elevation that it still held plenty of snow. Although we had heard reports of an ice layer on everything, we decided to go for it anyway since everything in the sun would be nice corn snow, and if we hit ice in the couloir we'd be turning around.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiXEmoZZT4JotKLUz8UXXIqlDNCdxnLQytmf8DmU5Km_JsCyjJ5VfmryvDNvit3Qwp_pjfaOIOIvFfMFiYQ39CgtdvXY_mGLDhif79SroyC9D2b2-X-5dvhcy9Ulrebhy8WPnfSaQP3muF/s1600/IMG_0736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiXEmoZZT4JotKLUz8UXXIqlDNCdxnLQytmf8DmU5Km_JsCyjJ5VfmryvDNvit3Qwp_pjfaOIOIvFfMFiYQ39CgtdvXY_mGLDhif79SroyC9D2b2-X-5dvhcy9Ulrebhy8WPnfSaQP3muF/s640/IMG_0736.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Mt. Locke in the early morning</td></tr>
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The hiking part of the approach wasn't too terrible and we were able to start skinning in under an hour. Most of the ascent time was spent getting across and up the valley to the couloir; it was definitely farther away than it looked. The bottom of the couloir had a small avalanche crown and some debris from a slide that looked to have happened in the last storm about a week prior, but everything was well settled by the time we were on it.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdYQgRtaB4cBdx3jLaMBtMYeTR5qNnpiGOZvGh9vOP3Modt6ZrQUvpLZ2d0EEAGDP2VBMEGoC-LmseugJA8BOtMPIMSn13-5HhtsyapkCCE18qYTwA8-G00XpKVS0nEIuSWWXEUBdZVrZ/s1600/IMG_1512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdYQgRtaB4cBdx3jLaMBtMYeTR5qNnpiGOZvGh9vOP3Modt6ZrQUvpLZ2d0EEAGDP2VBMEGoC-LmseugJA8BOtMPIMSn13-5HhtsyapkCCE18qYTwA8-G00XpKVS0nEIuSWWXEUBdZVrZ/s640/IMG_1512.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Getting closer to the couloir</td></tr>
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At this point we put skis back on our packs and pulled out crampons and ice axes to ascend the couloir; there was a hard icy layer but it was under 6-8" of nicely bonded snow which made for good climbing conditions--aside from clumping up on the crampons every few steps. The rock walls echoed with the sounds of my ice axe banging on a crampon every few steps to knock the snowballs off... for some reason Kit didn't seem to have the same issue.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86-ZszWKyameSyozhHjZOtNAUaKNIBPiHFduMoXd9ho1oy3F2fLvbSYg_WNvj87Zgy_9lE0YGCvDXhQPoeZ7V7mfAYg2SvHPgK0syXn5jQQmC_i4XKg9uBQRohn9Ur28FTJbfc6aExkE4/s1600/IMG_5424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86-ZszWKyameSyozhHjZOtNAUaKNIBPiHFduMoXd9ho1oy3F2fLvbSYg_WNvj87Zgy_9lE0YGCvDXhQPoeZ7V7mfAYg2SvHPgK0syXn5jQQmC_i4XKg9uBQRohn9Ur28FTJbfc6aExkE4/s640/IMG_5424.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing conditions were a mix of "hot pow" in the sun and cold chalky powder in the shade.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTypf9BnEyDoQX3jNTSlRcvYGJ8K6Fz46rWtPilN8JpFFFXsNogmU3OuVJb1J0Nxtiq2jijrUizjvp7mYPHFhKNWTgm1KwSS578ZYNJJFY8-0M2b4gfylViAPa_KvEyRILOURbBCtJlTA/s1600/IMG_7812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTypf9BnEyDoQX3jNTSlRcvYGJ8K6Fz46rWtPilN8JpFFFXsNogmU3OuVJb1J0Nxtiq2jijrUizjvp7mYPHFhKNWTgm1KwSS578ZYNJJFY8-0M2b4gfylViAPa_KvEyRILOURbBCtJlTA/s640/IMG_7812.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's nothing like eating snacks with a view!</td></tr>
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Nice enough that I hadn't considered how *ahem* exciting it would be to drop into this 50-degree couloir on skis after a couple of seasons devoid of riding lifts and skiing mostly mellow things in the backcountry. Although the ice layer was buried, the top few inches of snow had a weird, sugary quality that made for a very disconcerting feeling of continuing to slide down after every turn, unable to create a stable platform to start the next turn from.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPDImioWz_fOtmC4btCprmGAe4fA97yCQnXM6dM5vmhV9Pn6tXewyhyciEaDjiHHn9_UrbTKITDwakDwM07exCEDmOzFnddKGCLYEZIriqgfoV95uirjRGbh85gd1IP4Bzhm1kN5S_NcN/s1600/GOPR1131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="745" data-original-width="558" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPDImioWz_fOtmC4btCprmGAe4fA97yCQnXM6dM5vmhV9Pn6tXewyhyciEaDjiHHn9_UrbTKITDwakDwM07exCEDmOzFnddKGCLYEZIriqgfoV95uirjRGbh85gd1IP4Bzhm1kN5S_NcN/s640/GOPR1131.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain Kit-astrophe sending it on his vintage K2 Ascents</td></tr>
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After Kit disappeared down the couloir on his skinny telemark skis, I gaped my way down slipping and sliding on AT gear, making a resolution to ski some steeper things and scare myself a little bit the next winter.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UYP14GZpR2Ejg7HHK2uSgldbvnM4TpVZYPL9yRynI3PgNaKZV0FZOG2aiCCk1BtZtqJA-JP1H4Z1GCi2V-gcsLASDMvjmCuC09S5T-VuWZpoSLEvTvu-KAm-BwQH4SVGd-KzShcUgdOc/s1600/GOPR1136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UYP14GZpR2Ejg7HHK2uSgldbvnM4TpVZYPL9yRynI3PgNaKZV0FZOG2aiCCk1BtZtqJA-JP1H4Z1GCi2V-gcsLASDMvjmCuC09S5T-VuWZpoSLEvTvu-KAm-BwQH4SVGd-KzShcUgdOc/s640/GOPR1136.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Definitely wondering how I will avoid tumbling down the entire length of this lovely couloir...</td></tr>
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<br />
We both made it down successfully without any cartwheels or faceplants, and enjoyed another thousand feet or so of nice but borderline gloppy corn turns before having to pick our way carefully through rocks and finally shoulder the skis on packs again for the final hike down to the truck.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim5EOYQa_rblGlqevehpY4rw0P3gYphDhphyphenhyphen2S1tcXGiYtMKCpjpRDOmUJMnpeyAjVmGqaxHTWSH0edaDxNh-nt4p21oZ2mIsZue3Ps4AAosXrpIfQ17JZjg6f7FuCvZ3V0DzB-aVLHykv/s1600/IMG_8812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1204" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim5EOYQa_rblGlqevehpY4rw0P3gYphDhphyphenhyphen2S1tcXGiYtMKCpjpRDOmUJMnpeyAjVmGqaxHTWSH0edaDxNh-nt4p21oZ2mIsZue3Ps4AAosXrpIfQ17JZjg6f7FuCvZ3V0DzB-aVLHykv/s640/IMG_8812.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some nice corn skiing to relax on the way down the mountain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDpKvlYeN4c667Ghx1p5Krm_SaWGsJXTy_16WiVM4EZglJoZ7paOSYzKYNOmJgQ62zbRyPf9EP4suD1gB_9H3gnjhbggDxDCV_iIsiUbkvTW1y_gNg__a0FnVZBCrCWO75LTMZN8KIvzn/s1600/IMG_1949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDpKvlYeN4c667Ghx1p5Krm_SaWGsJXTy_16WiVM4EZglJoZ7paOSYzKYNOmJgQ62zbRyPf9EP4suD1gB_9H3gnjhbggDxDCV_iIsiUbkvTW1y_gNg__a0FnVZBCrCWO75LTMZN8KIvzn/s640/IMG_1949.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost time to de-ski</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib52-o1El-EptZCAmyW24uHl-5t8Om2Dr7jc-Xzun5XVLfdFhs4Q9aZpDJ6lvJAEMBogZSFcV2xmRsWNWWDecsZkmyMMCrmpZhURpKELMOF8eB85_yW1gveUw3KUkXwViipMGkCWUHZClt/s1600/IMG_3834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib52-o1El-EptZCAmyW24uHl-5t8Om2Dr7jc-Xzun5XVLfdFhs4Q9aZpDJ6lvJAEMBogZSFcV2xmRsWNWWDecsZkmyMMCrmpZhURpKELMOF8eB85_yW1gveUw3KUkXwViipMGkCWUHZClt/s640/IMG_3834.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Humphreys from the Buttermilks.</td></tr>
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Two days later we headed up the next drainage to the south for an attempt on the Kindergarten Chute, and to peer up the Checkered Demon. Although we passed right below Mt. Locke and the Wahoo Gullies, also excellent skiing, we decided to push farther up for some recon and perhaps if conditions were right we would be able to ski another fun couloir.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQhIcYoryGYxuOdoIeJHrJxIwmPlobqlElsHWp9_S9k39I25JyOq16a_S7oolU26Qho29477DfcysmzxZIoG3SLK_LL4n1xVVr8IybIhBWhfqcSoNL1b1Ln3RpMWfXA77Jey1HNhRT4iJ/s1600/IMG_2593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQhIcYoryGYxuOdoIeJHrJxIwmPlobqlElsHWp9_S9k39I25JyOq16a_S7oolU26Qho29477DfcysmzxZIoG3SLK_LL4n1xVVr8IybIhBWhfqcSoNL1b1Ln3RpMWfXA77Jey1HNhRT4iJ/s640/IMG_2593.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kindergarten Chute to the left, Checkered Demon to the right.</td></tr>
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Alas, the Kindergarten Chute turned to ice just over halfway up, and neither of us wanted anything to do with that. It was a lovely day for a nice ski-hike in the mountains anyway, and we got some not altogether terrible turns on the way down, once the precarious act of switching to ski down on an icy slope covered in several inches of snow was completed.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit making turns down the Kindergarten Chute.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Classic California spring ski touring look: shorts and T-shirt.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus turns down toward the Owens Valley.</td></tr>
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Even though we didn't reach the top of the Kindergarten Chute, we got much more familiar with the terrain and navigating the approach. This area would be another nice one to access via dirt bikes, but definitely a longer and more exhausting ride. We had ridden this approach the previous year while scouting before skiing Basin Mountain, and it was a good amount of riding! Perhaps in the coming spring we will saddle up again for a Mt. Locke or Emerson attempt.<br />
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-47048667907710064902018-08-06T14:13:00.001-07:002018-08-31T08:48:10.204-07:00Midsummer update/the Robynator does Downieville This summer has been full of good times, adventures, and learning so much, both at work and outside of work. I haven't had much time to sit down and organize my thoughts lately, but a well deserved post-race rest day is a perfect opportunity to sit down and write for a few minutes in between unpacking and cleaning the house. Being away from home and camping out in the desert for 8 days at a time is a big change, following years of planning my life around daily bike rides and swimming in the lake. It feels amazing to be filling my brain with so much knowledge about plants and the rangeland environment, building skills that will continue to open up new opportunities for better employment and further learning.<br />
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On the other hand, it seems that my best intentions to continue some semblance of race training have fallen off the wagon. I religiously bring my running shoes and yoga mat to work in the field, hoping to keep on schedule with cardio and stability workouts. But with most work days lasting 8+ hours in the desert sun plus driving to and from sampling locations, I'm generally drained enough that I only manage to work out once or twice during my work week. When I come back home for my 6 days off, the last thing I feel like doing is hopping on the road bike for an interval workout, instead opting to pedal in the woods on a mountain bike as many days as possible. In prioritizing career development over bike racing, I fully expected this. But it's still a rude awakening to think you're in pretty good shape, and then... </div>
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Enter the Downieville Classic: legendary mountain bike race of the Lost Sierra, and one that has been on my to-do list for quite some time now. The last time I think I would have been physically able to complete the cross country course was probably in 2005 or 2006, when I was competing in XC and in top form for going uphill. In fact, my 2006 self would probably have destroyed my 2018 self on the climbs with no trouble at all, but for some reason it had not occurred to me to try racing it at the time. </div>
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2018 Robyn decided that signing up for Downieville was a brilliant idea, coming off of a winter filled with early mornings hiking laps for powder and weekend all-day ski tours, Nordic skate skiing, and several large peak ascents in the Eastern Sierra. I had also started in on the MTB Strong program by Yeti pro team coach Dee Tidwell, a home-based training plan that fit my budget nicely and provided at least some framework to work with. It seemed to keep me together pretty well for the Fears, Tears, and Beers Enduro in early June, but I also had not really started working out in the field yet and was able to stay on somewhat of a consistent schedule. I waffled between the Expert and Pro class for a minute, but when the registration went live in March, I decided to go big and jump in with the Pro class. If I had a great race, I would be really happy. If it didn't go so well, I could hopefully still be somewhere close enough to the rest of the field to not feel like a total loser. </div>
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I dragged Kit on a pre-ride of the full cross country course two weeks prior to the race, and at a leisurely pace the climbing was not altogether terrible. There was a new singletrack section added at the top of the fire road climb which added a fair amount of climbing and technical rocky descent, and I found it rather fun to ride although I heard it eliminated a nice long rest on a dirt road. After this I knew I could at least make it through the whole thing, if not at the fastest pace. </div>
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Race weekend came around and smoke from fires all around California filled the air. Some racers opted not to participate, but I optimistically decided that it wouldn't be that bad and I would just do it. Too much built up anticipation to bail on it at this point! I weighed in my bike (29 lbs--I totally thought it was lighter!) and lined up at the start with the rest of the field. Immediately upon starting, they all proceeded to ride away from me like I was standing still; although I was able to keep a couple of the other women in sight for a while, I was quickly overtaken by the Expert men and soon a handful of women. Even a single speed crusher girl passed me and disappeared at the first aid station! Ugh... I let so many people pass me on the last bit of singletrack climbing in the new trail section, only to be stuck behind and trying to pass them almost all the way to the top of the infamous "baby heads" and Pauley Creek. On top of that, the first leg cramp twinges started up, which continued to plague me (and just about everybody else I spoke with after the race) until the finish line. At one point, I was caught behind somebody who bungled a root section; I had to put both feet down, and after that my right leg wouldn't bend to put it back on the pedal because my quad cramped so badly! I finally wrestled both feet back onto pedals and vowed to keep my legs moving at all cost until the finish, because that seemed like the only way to avoid them completely freezing up with cramps. At least one more time I was unable to avoid stopping, and I fell over into the bushes trying to climb back onto my bike. Good for a laugh from myself and others who I had to let pass at that point! I at least had a fun time on most of the downhill parts, including Third Divide, catching and passing a few folks who had probably dropped me like a rock on the climbs.</div>
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By the time I reached the First Divide trail, my legs and I were about done with the whole racing nonsense, and I just struck up conversations with whomever was behind me, including a photographer towards the very end. I finished in 3:24, not exactly under the coveted 3-hour mark, but including the new section of trail which supposedly added an extra 35-45 minutes onto the average time, I suppose it was all right. Truly impressive was the number of women who still ended up under 3 hours--animals, all of them!! Also, I hate to be so full of excuses, but how many of them work 80 hours back to back, away from their bicycles for a week straight? I don't know if it is humanly possible to be that strong while in my particular work situation, but I think I can make some changes to do better next time around. </div>
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I wobbled off my bike and found a shady spot to lie down for a while; after a few minutes of aimlessly wandering it seemed like the best idea. My stomach couldn't stand the thought of food or beer for some time, even though that was all I wanted. When I finally connected with some friends several hours later, my appetite had returned and I chowed down nearly half of a large pizza. How on earth am I going to do an hour long downhill (mostly) run tomorrow, I thought to myself? We watched the river jump contest for a while, and I finally had a beer, topped off with a second dinner of delicious BBQ pork tacos before heading up to camp at Packer Saddle with friends Lindsay Beth Currier and Josh Bender. </div>
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After a good night's sleep, I was slightly more refreshed but still feeling sore all over. My legs would have a hard time forgiving me for the second day in a row. There was a long wait for my 12 PM start time, but I managed a decent warmup and some last minute bike repairs before lining up. Finally it was time to drop in. I actually passed one girl not very far into the race, and managed to stay ahead of the others a good distance down the course. I even held off the legendary Katerina Nash, who started probably 5 minutes behind me, until the climb to Third Divide. Then I was back and forth with another girl who started before me. I first caught and passed her on the descent, but then she passed me back on the Third Divide climb, and when I caught her again near the bottom of the descent in the technical rocky stuff, she wasn't into letting me pass another time. I didn't make a fuss about it knowing that she'd definitely be passing me back again at some point and it was more trouble than was probably worth. It was a bummer though, I know I probably could have made up a good chunk of time on that downhill section, plus being right behind her going up the rock slab distracted me, and I bobbled and fell over in the roots losing more time. Oh well. The lesson learned: it's time to get faster at pedaling so I can pass people and stay in front of them!!</div>
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Despite more or less having my ass handed to me by the course and the competition, I'm still quite satisfied with how things went. Considering where I was at this time 3, 4, or even 5 years ago, I've come back such a long way in terms of fitness, strength, and confidence. No mechanicals or flat tires and kept the rubber side down, even through some really sketchy moments. Overall I think I rode the technical parts really well, even in the XC when I was totally worked and cramping all the way down. I even almost cleaned the rock slab on lower Third Divide in the XC race better than I've ever done before! In the DH I just need to be better at sprinting and pedaling, although I was impressed with what came out of my legs following the previous day's beatdown. Now that I know what I can do without that much training (story of my life), I think I can convince myself to do it again, and do it better next time with some more directed training!</div>
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Many, many thanks go to: Lindsay Currier and Josh Bender for helping me out with the XC bottle feed, driving my truck to the bottom after the DH, and generally being awesome and supportive all weekend! Also, to Sierra Ski & Cycle Works for keeping my bike running happily; to Dave and the Vanderkitten crew for always providing support and encouragement; and as always to Kit for putting up with my loony ideas of fun and bicycle addiction.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lindsay and I just before my Downieville DH start.</td></tr>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-39586123583725974862018-04-03T18:16:00.001-07:002018-04-12T18:37:14.915-07:00A few more reflections on 2017, and looking ahead... Well dang, that went by in a hurry! Another year went whooshing past in spectacular fashion and it's already April 2018. Somebody stop the train and let me off!! Although 2016 had its better moments, 2017 thankfully finally felt more up to speed in athletic endeavors of all kinds. Despite the resurfacing of the 2013 neck injury that likes to come back and haunt me, my body has remained amazingly cooperative in all other ways, coaxed along by copious amounts of stretching, foam rolling and physical therapy. The Tahoe Forest Hospital has some excellent PTs, and they have gotten my neck feeling mostly back to normal although it has been a long process; with numerous setbacks it had been almost 7 months before they deemed me healed enough to stop coming in!<br />
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It also feels great to have started up a yoga practice again in the fall after finding an inspiring teacher at a local studio: Deborah at the Yoga Room teaches an alignment-based Iyengar class that leaves me feeling like no other class I've been to before. There's just no substitute for having someone fix your alignment and hold you in poses for longer than you thought possible (even the easier ones start getting more and more difficult) and in the months I've been going to class, it has NEVER gotten any easier, holy cow!! Definitely giving yoga some of the credit for neck rehab and correcting my posture!<br />
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In addition, I can't forget the life-changing experience of having laser surgery to fix my horribly nearsighted eyes, freeing me from wearing awkwardly thick glasses or dry, falling-out contact lenses day in and day out, and through every ridiculous adventure. That has been something that I give thanks for every time I think about it!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit skis down Basin Mountain</td></tr>
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Last year we managed to ski every month of the year (a first for both of us), figuring it was the year to do so following "Snowmageddon." Up through August was relatively easy, including a day of riding lifts at Mammoth, then September and October got a little bit silly hunting for patches of snow in Mt. Rose Wilderness and Carson Pass. We did our first longer ski descents since Shasta in 2011: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2289756794822037330#editor/target=post;postID=1652665856088556657;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=2;src=postname">Basin Mountain</a> in early May, and Mt. Lassen in July. Both have been on our tick list for a while, and besides being great ski trips, it just plain felt awesome to get out and climb to the top of something big. Lassen was especially ridiculous because we somehow forgot to pack ski poles: marginally sketchy for descending, and skinning up a mountain without poles is awkward at best. We ended up each using one stick found along the approach and then switching to ice axe and crampons when terrain steepened enough. Had lovely weather for a snack and nap on the summit, and then had some nice snow to ski down, just little gloppy at the top.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a break on the northeast side of Mt. Lassen</td></tr>
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We even bought a new climbing rope, after an animated discussion about safety with a good climbing friend, and went rock climbing more than twice for the first time in several years. Then, we made a climbing trip out of Thanksgiving weekend and got re-inspired to explore more in the high Sierra in the summer. I don't know if we'll be able to climb enough to get really strong again, but it would be great to be able to get out on some more moderate high alpine routes this year.<br />
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In addition to getting back to some of my old favorite outdoor pursuits I tried a few new things, including downhill fat biking on the snow. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=in3Ku39I3K8">Click here to see how that went</a>! Yes, I'd do it again, but definitely would be more wary of holes hiding behind trees... Also, about a year ago, I entered my first ever desert motorcycle race, which has an <a href="http://therobynator.blogspot.com/2017/03/if-only-i-had-sandwich-and-beer.html">entire post</a> dedicated to that adventure. I managed to finish my second race, and although I didn't race again for the rest of the season for various reasons, I'm ready to give it another few tries this year and see what happens.<br />
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Wanting to motivate Kit to do some of his own sports, we joined a local pond hockey group of all ages and abilities and it was awesome! My skating got so much better (although I still can't actually hockey stop) and I really enjoyed watching Kit play one on one with some of the better guys out there. Looking forward to next winter already to get back out on the ice and work on my balance and coordination some more. And in the spirit of having way too many hobbies/sports to juggle, I decided to try a biathlon this spring after watching the Olympics and thinking that I could probably do that... I wasn't dead last, and it was a good time with awesome people! Now, do I want to add yet another thing to the already ridiculous list of sports I'm involved in to some degree? I've got some time to ponder, but it's toward the top of the list. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy skate skiing???<br />
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As for what's on the agenda in 2018? A few changes. Some bike racing, but only a select handful of events that have been on my list for a while. A new job; while commercial sewing has been a great learning experience with decent pay, it seemed to be a major contributor to the return of my neck problems last summer. I don't need to do that kind of work full time ever again, but I've got some useful new skills in case I want to start a side business doing gear repairs or making fancy bags.<br />
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This summer I've gotten a seasonal position as a field survey technician for wildlife habitat with the Nevada Department of Wildlife: a first step back into the science field--which I quite enjoyed in college--but went off on a tangent trying to become a ski instructor/bike racer/ski bum. As it turns out, that is a rather poor living especially when winter comes only once or twice every 5 years in Tahoe. I'll be mostly out in the field exploring random parts of outback Nevada, and it's going to be a radical change from the usual routine, but I've been feeling a bit stuck in a rut for several years and needing to do something like this. Hopefully it will lead to more challenging, interesting employment where I can do something useful for the environment as well... or at least have some benefits so that I'm not paying for my dentist's Hawaii vacation every time something falls apart...<br />
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As for bike racing, first up is Fears, Tears, and Beers in Ely, NV, a grassroots enduro race and quite possibly the first race of its kind held here in the US. It's long, with a ton of climbing, and so early in the season that I'm not usually feeling fit enough to tackle the long course (where's the fun in racing less than 30 miles?) but things seem to be coming together to make it happen this year. Then I got a highly coveted registration in the Downieville Classic All-Mountain, which requires riders to complete a long, burly cross country race the day before the downhill--which is still only MOSTLY downhill. I didn't really know much about it back when I raced XC and was super fit, and then when I turned into a lazy downhiller they changed the rules so you couldn't race the DH without doing the XC. Now I'm coming back around and wanting to try some events with a little more of an endurance aspect to them again. For the rest of the summer I may add in another enduro race or two if CES events line up with my work schedule, but I am most definitely looking forward to late October when the Single Speed World Championship is taking place in Bend, OR. This event travels around the world every year, so having it within a day's drive makes it something I've got to try! I have a decent single speed mountain bike and rode it quite a bit last year; it's a real torture machine but I'm feeling ready to spend more time in suffer mode than in the past several years. Another one of those ideas that seems great until I'm halfway through the race... haha...<br />
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When not on a bicycle, I'm making plans to climb/ski a a few more mountains on the eastern Sierra, and hopefully make a trip up to ski Shasta or another Cascade volcano as well. Also on the list is another trip for us up to Montana to visit the family cabin and fish, mountain bike, perhaps even dirt bike to explore some new trails up there. So much to do, and so little time, as usual!Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-14082549620514489022017-11-13T07:47:00.000-08:002017-12-01T07:30:10.544-08:002017 season in review: well, I made it to a couple of bike races! I'm still way behind here and have missed writing about a whole bunch of rad things that have happened this summer. At least I haven't missed out on actually doing them--it's finally been a good year for getting out and climbing a few mountains, skiing every month, and mountain biking any time I can squeeze in a ride. I even made it to a couple of races, although the Mammoth Kamikaze enduro still eluded my best efforts.<br />
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Back in early June I attended the <a href="http://adventuresportsjournal.com/el-dorado-benduro/">El Dorado Benduro</a> outside of Georgetown, CA, right in the backyard of my good friend Lindsay Currier and put on by her and her dude Josh Bender (the Bender Sender, pioneer of early freeride mountain biking). A great location, free camping, rocky and steep motorcycle trails far out in the woods, live music, and tons of free beer made this race a complete adventure. My legs especially weren't too sure about two 17 mile days in a row, each with 2,500 feet of climbing, this early in the season. Although we had an epic winter and I ski toured nearly every day, mountain biking is a completely different animal and it takes a little while to adjust to using different muscles, not to mention the whole avoiding wrecking while flying down loose, sketchy trails.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stage 3 on day2 of the El Dorado Benduro. Photo: Pat Branch/PBmedia</td></tr>
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I wasn't the fastest, but I made it to the finish with myself and bicycle all in one piece, and not too terribly far behind the rest of the competitors. As it turned out, I was the only female, and not having raced in several years my main goals were to not crash and not be embarrassingly slow. I'll admit to being annoyed at not being able to beat any of the guys this time but I guess I have to live with it. Next year, it's on... gonna catch a few boys! The Benduro was an excellent adventure of a race and a great party in the woods on top of that, I highly recommend it!<br />
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Fast forward three months to mid-August was the <a href="https://www.sturdydirty.com/oakridge">Sturdy Dirty</a>, an all-women's race series that I thought sounded like a blast, the second event of which was held up in the green jungle of Oakridge, Oregon. Oakridge had been on the list to check out for a while now, and I was also bound to run into an old friend who had moved up to Oregon right around when I disappeared from mountain bike racing. I had put in a lot of miles, tons of climbing, and a good amount of time on the single speed while my Ibis Ripley was having a shock rebuild and was feeling fairly fit. I put myself in the Pro class, just hoping that I would be somewhere other than dead last among the 20 other names on that list, most of whom I recognized as veteran enduro racers. Driving solo and leaving on Thursday after work left me with only Friday afternoon to catch the last practice shuttle and see some of the race course. I ended up opting not to scout the first two stages which were supposedly the least technical; having no idea how long it would take, I really didn't want to get caught in the dark only partway down.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere in the middle of the Sturdy Dirty. Photo: Patrick M/PSPLLC</td></tr>
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In contrast with the technical, raw Benduro course, the trails were a relative cakewalk so long as no steering mistakes were made; smooth and flowy, with one or two rocks that I can remember. Some areas had a high consequence if one was to miss a corner and go flying off the trail tumbling down a steep mountainside, but as long as wheels stayed on trail there was little to be concerned about. I managed to not crash riding blind on the first 2 stages, though later finding out that my time on stage 1 was pretty horrendous. I'm pretty sure I forgot to pedal... Still not good enough to get into the top 10, but 12th was far better than last so I'll take it. Aside from being a putz on stage 1, I was pretty consistently mid-pack throughout, with my best finish 9th on stage 4. My rear shock also blew up again during the first stage of the race... not super helpful at all! I guess I wasn't really expecting much but at the same time hoping I could pull off something crazy. It was still a super fun time, I made a few new friends, and got a chance to catch up with my old friend Andrea from DH racing. I'd definitely do it again and recommend it to ladies of any level who are looking for an awesome all-women's race experience!<br />
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Race number 3 that I signed up for this year was the Mammoth Kamikaze Games enduro. Having signed up for this race the previous two years in a row and been unable to race for one reason or another, I have felt at odds with the universe just trying to make it happen... even ONCE!! At this point I sort of didn't even care what happened during the race, I just wanted to get to the Mammoth parking lot, put a number plate on my bike, and roll off from the starting line. Well, I got closer than ever this year, but still no race.<br />
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I actually made it down to Mammoth this time, but a lot later than I planned. Ideally I'd have taken most of the week off to have plenty of time to adapt to the dirt and learn the course, but had too much to get done at work that week and of course needed the money. After a late arrival on Friday night, and second thoughts about my little Ripley and the gnarly pro-line trails, I had the brilliant idea to ask the friend about using his spare bike for the race, a much longer travel machine that might be more appropriate for the gnarly course and mostly lift-assisted transfers. Never mind that it was an X-large and the fork also really needed a rebuild as I later discovered.<br />
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I grabbed the bike first thing in the morning for 7:30 AM practice, put the number on it, and went up the lift to take a lap on the last, and perhaps nastiest stage. I had ridden that bike once before, at night with a light, and everything felt funny then. It still felt weird, though I could tell it was slacker and I could roll down steep things a little less terrified. All of that was beside the point after I had a slo-mo-wreck where my foot jammed directly between two spokes and broke the valve stem completely off. Walking down the lower 1/3 of the trail was not on my list of things to do that morning, nor was changing out a flat tubeless tire, especially with a limited time to practice trails before the Sport/Beginner class race started. I ran back to grab the Ripley and rode up to see as many more stages as I could fit in. I had to run back into registration to get the proper sticker on my number before they would let me on the lift again, so while I was having a nervous breakdown and feeling hopelessly inadequate, I asked them to move me out of the Pro class and into Expert. I didn't think I could even podium in Expert at this point, and I would feel much better about not having any of the really fast pro girls get caught behind me waiting for me to get the heck out of the way. The reality is, I'm learning I am not nearly as fast as I was 4 years ago, and not taking the same kind of risks, so there's no point in ruining someone else's race because I faceplanted right in front of them.<br />
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Having already seen most of Bullet and knowing I'd likely be walking a few sections anyhow, I continued on to see the next most technical stage. It was just one short steep section with awkward rocks, but here I decided again that I'd rather walk than wreck trying to send the gnar on a wholly unsuitable bike. While walking down to look at lines and watch some other riders hit the section I made friends with some rad folks from Redding that I stuck with for the rest of the morning. We even managed a run all the way from the top of the mountain down Stage 4. Good times! And at the bottom of this, I then realized looking at the dust on the shaft that my rear shock had way too much air in it. Hadn't bothered to mess with it since having a second rebuild done after Sturdy Dirty... oops again. Amateur hour bike racing here. Should maybe have put myself in the Sport class at this point!<br />
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Back at the camper Kit was getting ready to go out for some riding, so I grabbed my DH bike to join him, figuring my Ripley was better off not getting beat up before the race. Even on the big bike I cursed and struggled through the rocky sections like a complete newbie, failing to comprehend how I'd fairly easily followed a friend through most of these back in 2009 on my old clunker DH bike. Knowing the right lines does help... I haven't spent much time on the DH bike this year and it was pretty obvious because I didn't trust it to do what it can do to eat up those rock gardens. And wow, that's really bad for one's self confidence before a race! After a handful of laps on Velocity I finally got the right line through one rock garden and felt a little bit better about riding bikes, starting to de-stress and have fun again. We got on a fun jump trail to go back over to the other base to eat some food and catch the last of the downhill race, but I hadn't hit more than a handful when one takeoff caused a weird, disturbing sensation in my neck, very hard to describe but the end result was that it felt like I had hit the ground very hard and it started to spasm and seize up. This freaked me out and I rode slowly the rest of the way down to the bottom.<br />
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Even though I hadn't actually crashed it worried me enough that I decided to bail on the race. Normal necks don't get whiplash like that, I'm definitely sure of it. That was such a disappointment--even with all the emotional drama I put myself through, I ended up being pretty pumped to get out and race no matter what class or bike I was on. My neck had been feeling rather strange for a couple of months prior to this but I had just kept on going, had a little bit of bodywork and saw my physical therapist, and mainly was told to do some stretches and take more frequent breaks at work. Now I've been to the doctor and had some imaging done (all normal, thankfully, aside from a loss of cervical curve) and am back doing therapy, trying to unravel the latest piece of the puzzle that my neck has become over the last several years.<br />
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I was going to wait until after the Zion Benduro in November to finish this post, since it is kind of a race report/season summary, but it's not looking like I will make it to the race. Almost 2 months past the Mammoth race and my neck is still not feeling completely normal, but I think I may now be closer to solving the puzzle and having a relatively more normally behaving neck than I've had since the fall of 2013 when I originally wrecked it. Since then, I have basically had to deal with some degree of a whiplash injury nearly every time I hit the ground at any speed, even relatively slowly, and that makes many activities far more stressful all the way down to cross country skiing or walking around in the dark. A combination of factors seems to have contributed: the headplant incident itself, which led to chronic poor posture and weak supporting muscles, and then add in my current employment as a commercial seamstress spending a fair amount of time sitting at a sewing machine or leaning over a table to mark, measure, and cut large quantities of fabric. While I have made a habit of taking frequent breaks to stretch and move around at work if I'm doing a heavy sewing day, my physical therapist and chiropractor both agree that it is not an ideal job for somebody with my history of neck injury because it encourages it back into the wrong position. I have enjoyed working there and have learned so much, but I'm exploring my other options right now, more on that later perhaps...<br />
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Although I haven't been able to comfortably ride since mid-September, progress is being made with restoring the cervical curve and strengthening the stabilizers, thanks especially to an excellent sports chiropractor who was highly recommended to me. I don't particularly enjoy having things go crack, but nothing else I've tried up until now has managed to resolve the root of this issue. So far it has been well worth it since he describes in detail the mechanics of what is going on, feels for movement of joints and for muscle tone, and also gives me many exercises to do which seem to be working well. However, some days my neck just feels confused and sore from all of the changes and wanting to go back to where it has been for the past few years. This generally gives me a headache, a grumpy attitude, and a bad outlook on life as relating to riding bicycles again, but I have to remind myself that the quick fixes which in the past have made the pain go away sooner also didn't seem to do much for the underlying problem.<br />
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The PT and chiro both have told me I am on the right track and that I should avoid babying it too much, telling me to try some easy riding again, which I have yet to try with the shortening daylight hours and much to be done around the house before winter. I made a point of finding a convenient yoga studio and trying out a variety of classes, initially only the restorative ones but I've been adding in some more active alignment-focused classes and a faster moving vinyasa class as well with good results. If I need more time off the bike to let my body adapt to the changes, I think I can hang in there with the additional challenge of getting back into yoga with far less flexibility than I had when I was previously practicing and going to classes regularly some years ago.Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-16526658560885566572017-08-14T21:51:00.001-07:002017-09-08T22:11:51.702-07:00The Hillbilly Hippies ski Basin Mountain Indeed, this happened several months ago in the spring, but cut me some slack--I got a new job (or 2), have an actual commute that I'm still getting used to, and am scrambling to try and fit in as much play time as possible. Being busy kind of stinks, it makes summer go by way too fast!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basin Mountain in the early morning light, the East Couloir visible to the left side of the peak</td></tr>
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Kit and I had been planning all along to go down to Bishop for Mule Days over Memorial weekend, bringing dirt bikes and skis and not much of a plan aside from doing both of those things at some point figuring it out as we went along. Arriving at the Poleta Canyon OHV staging area on Friday night in the dark, we hoped to wake up and scrutinize the expansive view of the eastern Sierra from across the Owens Valley and see where decent skiing might be found. I looked through binoculars while eating breakfast the next morning, scanning Mt. Locke & Humphreys; Mt. Tom looked a little burned out and too far to hike to snow. What about Basin? Looks like the East Couloir has decent coverage and the snow doesn't start too far from the access road. We've talked about that one quite a lot and been magnetized by its commanding presence on the Bishop skyline, and it even sounded like a great idea to use dirt bikes for the approach.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit checking out Mt. Humphreys and the Wahoo Gullies on Mt. Locke</td></tr>
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Instead of riding Poleta, we decided to head across the valley and up to the Buttermilk boulders to do some approach scouting on motorcycles. While sort of a novelty, riding a dirt bike to the base of this climb seemed brilliant since we had that ability. Although Horton Lakes road (access to Basin) is drivable with a higher clearance vehicle, it sounded as though it was incredibly rough and rocky and would be slow going in the big truck, not to mention parking and turning around at the trailhead might be an issue. We found an excellent flat spot to park with the trailer and unload, then examined the map for a few minutes and took off for the Horton Lakes trailhead.<br />
The turn off of Buttermilk Road was easy to find and we quickly blasted up to the gate--so much more fun than creeping in the truck up a steep bumpy road. It looked like a couple hundred feet of vertical to hike to the first skin-able patches of snow, not bad at all. The lower snow field looked pretty terrible though, all covered in dirt and sticks, runnels and small suncups. In all it looked good to go, and there was still much time left in the day, so we decided to continue riding around the Buttermilk loop and do some exploration for future backcountry missions.<br />
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The road was badly washed out just past the Horton Lakes turnoff but we were able to cross the ruts a couple of times and get beyond the worst parts. Once past there, at point where it appeared nobody had been through yet this season, we came upon a couple of creek crossings that looked a little high but we both scooted through without incident. The next turn we took followed a creek drainage toward Mt. Humphreys, which gained a ton of elevation and eventually we hit some snow patches and had to turn around. A couple of decent flat spots for camping around here, a creek, and nice views. We'll have to go back for that one.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How to ride a motorcycle with a ski mountaineering pack</td></tr>
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Continuing around the Buttermilk loop, we took a few more turns off the main road to explore, and then popped out back on the highway and back to the beginning of Buttermilk Road and our truck. Content with all we had seen and with a solid plan for the next day's climb, we packed up and went back down towards Bishop to take a few afternoon laps at the motocross track, before setting up camp and experimenting with the attachment of skis and boots to our packs and the whole situations's compatibility with riding a motorcycle.<br />
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It's so hard to get out of a comfy bed early on the weekend, but the forecast was for a warm day and we didn't really want to ski glop or deal with wet slides so we rallied to get out of bed and get moving at 6. We each gulped down an egg sandwich and shouldered our awkward packs with skis, boots, poles, ice axes, etc poking out in all directions; and then, as if that wasn't enough of a challenge, threw a leg over our dirt bikes and tried to kick the starter without tipping over. Successful in that, I left camp gingerly at first and opened the throttle as I figured out the balance a little better. Once past the popular climbers' camp by the Buttermilk boulders where the road gets rough and sitting down is a terrible idea, my arms and legs were burning with the effort of hanging on and staying upright with an extra 30 pounds on my back. Horton Lakes road felt like an eternity even though we made good time up to the gate, just under half an hour. The fast way to approach, but certainly not the easiest way! My quads and triceps were already dreading the ride back down just a little bit...<br />
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There were already several cars parked by the gate at 7am and we wondered if we had slept in just a little bit too long. Basin's East Couloir faced to the east and the rising sun was already directly upon it. Whatever. We'll just have to climb faster and catch them all. Except that there were no fresh boot tracks or skin tracks upon reaching the snow... bizarre! We eventually figured that those cars' owners must be hiking into Horton Lakes and elsewhere, because there was not another soul on Basin Mountain this day!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snacking partway up</td></tr>
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The first pitch went by fairly quickly, a couple of hours or so, and we stopped for a quick snack on the saddle before continuing upward. A short traverse brought us to the base of the actual couloir and the pitch began to steepen, enough that I stopped to swap skis and poles for crampons and ice axe. Although the snow was soft and boot-able, I would rather wear than carry the extra weight, and it felt nice and secure kicking steps with sharp things on my feet and in my hand. At this point the couloir seemed endless, the top appearing just as far away from halfway up as it did from the bottom. We finally reached the giant rock in the middle where we'd agreed to stop for a snack break, and realized that the top was not far off at all.<br />
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Maybe 20 minutes later, around 11:30 AM we reached the top of the couloir and dropped our packs, finding some comfy rocks to sit on and scarf down more food while taking a few photos of the views in all directions. The saddle atop the couloir was still probably a couple hundred feet below the true summit of 13,240 feet, but some chossy, loose rock lay between it and us, and no rope or climbing gear accompanied us. Highest skiable point, then, counts as a summit in our book!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-26JKlGoA9QCVASHKtLLt41FVGGeFkW94QJji4xd5-OypPDprMrAINcNWgXMOJDX6Vl2_713X9A5_osP3nHazrr7h7NLCxgfkdPB06jIIEwWBbFA4Pf6LknxkLOBIwTCltJIrDh5RL_mZ/s1600/IMG_9401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-26JKlGoA9QCVASHKtLLt41FVGGeFkW94QJji4xd5-OypPDprMrAINcNWgXMOJDX6Vl2_713X9A5_osP3nHazrr7h7NLCxgfkdPB06jIIEwWBbFA4Pf6LknxkLOBIwTCltJIrDh5RL_mZ/s400/IMG_9401.JPG" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85vZgsayR9Tq41IgAMK43z7tYHS5BdX-1S41hm81FyoIswcOz7YDxuRN5PBmmFkRP2XV537Ga57ZAr5EKrhbNCVRDuw4kNkBezGCJ2shW-IJyNRWZc8fiRRKVRKFA3tYf3bKcmD0irQZH/s1600/GOPR1061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="826" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85vZgsayR9Tq41IgAMK43z7tYHS5BdX-1S41hm81FyoIswcOz7YDxuRN5PBmmFkRP2XV537Ga57ZAr5EKrhbNCVRDuw4kNkBezGCJ2shW-IJyNRWZc8fiRRKVRKFA3tYf3bKcmD0irQZH/s320/GOPR1061.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br />
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We clicked into our skis just after noon and enjoyed some rather excellent skiing all the way down the East Couloir. Crossing the short traverse and scrambling back over the rock band took several minutes, and then we were back in our skis and hunting for the least crappy descent route down the last pitch, peppered with suncups and avalanche debris. Survival skiing at its finest--welcome to backcountry skiing!! We reached the tail end of the snow safely, following some sketchy maneuvering among giant runnels in sticky snow. The hike back down to our bikes was incredibly awkward in ski boots, but I managed to not trip over anything and tumble down the hill, all the while envious of Kit's relatively easier<br />
walk in telemark boots...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CkSXVMLn-h_TQNU0es1apwyTyXo6FuLRkB8E68R5c6Z_8imyP0ZV2s9mbSR2y0hOqbrUThZHcAVoJqqFPCldctsG5BS3FlBCl-U9jNC5G9T6hwYL2Hke2KD8mcd3ofEEKshrFedSBjhY/s1600/IMG_6886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CkSXVMLn-h_TQNU0es1apwyTyXo6FuLRkB8E68R5c6Z_8imyP0ZV2s9mbSR2y0hOqbrUThZHcAVoJqqFPCldctsG5BS3FlBCl-U9jNC5G9T6hwYL2Hke2KD8mcd3ofEEKshrFedSBjhY/s400/IMG_6886.JPG" width="400" /></a> Back at the motorcycles, we arranged all of the skiing equipment back on our packs somewhat securely, as I faced the half hour ride back down the hill with more than a little apprehension. As it turns out, riding downhill isn't nearly as bad, and we putzed our way back down to camp, passing a couple of Jeeps crawling slowly down Horton Lakes road. We got a number of surprised looks cruising through Buttermilks camp and a few thumbs-up. The final challenge back at the truck: dismounting in such a way as to to avoid catching skis on bike and tipping over... Success! Tecates with lime all around! A 7 hour round trip from car to car, about 5,000 vertical feet of climbing and skiing, and another 2,000 of approach ride, and that classic peak was in the bag. We're off to find some delicious burgers and watch some Mule Days for the rest of the afternoon<span style="text-align: center;">!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A horse riding in a car...always something outrageous at Mule Days!</td></tr>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-2712533696564814412017-03-30T13:15:00.002-07:002018-01-08T21:52:53.971-08:00For want of a sandwich, and maybe a beer: aka Robyn's first attempt at desert racing I found myself sitting on the side of the trail, with my motorcycle propped up against a course sweeper's bike, chatting about riding and racing and the slightly ridiculous situation we were in. I had broken my chain just past the 25-mile mark in my first ever desert race, about halfway through the course, and had somehow managed NOT to notice that it was the sole reason my bike wouldn't move. I had been cruising along enjoying the course, riding well and feeling strong, thinking that I had a pretty good chance of finishing a whole lap. When I heard the snap and my bike stopped moving, I panicked, of course. I am not a motorcycle mechanic by any stretch of the imagination! I looked at the motor and the clutch first and nothing seemed amiss (exploded into pieces), and I feel as though I must have looked at the front sprocket at some point since it lives in the same neighborhood. Was the chain still on it at that point or not? I'll probably never know now. The first guy who stopped to check on me was a sweep rider who declared it to be a toasted clutch, since that has happened to his bike before. He offered to tow me out to the closest road access, estimating it to be about 5 miles; then confiding that he had never towed anybody before. My only prior experience being towed on a dirt bike was terrifying: my old Honda wouldn't bump start until we got it to a steep enough hill, and the road became a rock garden for a good distance and I bumped along behind Kit at what seemed to be a breakneck speed. Therefore I was quite apprehensive about the whole process.<br />
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Unsure of how else I would be getting out of there, and not occurring to me that it might be wise to wait for another sweep rider who knows the area much better and knew how to properly tow another rider, I agreed that it sounded like a plan. Wrapping the strap around my handlebar grip at first, I wrecked almost immediately. A couple more failed attempts and then I decided it made more sense to tie it to the middle of the bars. Thankfully we were in a sand wash so hitting the ground wasn't too bad. We made it several miles with me crashing intermittently; it's difficult enough for me to stay on top of the bike in sand under its own power, but being towed adds a whole new level of excitement. At one point, another sweep rode past as I was picking my bike up and observed that it was lacking a chain. Uhhh... what? Well shoot!! Where was this guy half an hour ago?<br />
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On about the fifth crash or so my rescuer happened to notice his bike was leaking out of the radiator hose. Somehow the exhaust ran too close to the hose and had melted a hole in it, and it would have blown up his bike if I hadn't conveniently crashed just then. Thus began the first time we sat down to wait for somebody else to come along. I found out then that it was his first time sweeping a race, and they had not given him a radio, which might have been helpful. I ate some snacks, and he puttered with his bike trying to find a way to fix it. Eventually, another group of sweep riders came along, and all were incredulous that I failed to notice that my bike had no chain in the beginning. Yeah. Slightly embarrassing! Of course, those guys had seen a chain on the trail and wondered who could possibly just lose one like that. Would have been super awesome if somebody had stopped to pick it up, then this whole epic rescue adventure would have just ended with me riding my bike back under its own power.<br />
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Two of those guys started towing us farther along the trail. This time he knew what he was doing and put the tow strap on our opposite foot pegs, instructing me to stay to the one side at all times. Now that's easier said than done while getting squirrelly as heck in the sand. I kept running over the tow strap, bouncing off of rocks and giant sagebrush bushes, and crashing several more times. He became quite frustrated with my ineptitude and at the same time his bike started overheating from the effort of towing in the sand. We caught up shortly with the other two and it turned out that his rescuer's bike was also not very happy, so they left us there and went off to find somebody with a bigger bike to get us the rest of the way out.<br />
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So we sat. The weather couldn't have been nicer; sun shining, perfect temperature, a slight breeze. I had plenty of water but quickly finished all of my snacks. Bummer. It was getting close to 1 or 2 PM and I really could have used a sandwich and perhaps a beer to drown my sorrows and embarrassment. Some time passed, and a Razor four-wheeler appeared coming toward us. We strategized for a minute and he headed straight through the sagebrush toward the power lines maybe a quarter mile away, looking for the shortest, easiest route to the road. Not long after he disappeared, the sweet sound of a big 650 motorcycle engine came closer and closer. The ordeal was finally coming to an end, but the unknown in between was how the final stretch of towing would go down. As it turns out, uneventfully: I didn't crash a single time. Had a couple of close calls though it was much easier not riding in the sand. Much shorter, too. A truck waited for us at the road with a cooler full of beers in the back, and I cracked one open in celebration, relieved to have gotten out of there with as little damage to myself and bike as possible considering the number of times I'd wiped out on the other end of the tow strap.<br />
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Once back at the staging area, as I gathered up my things and rolled my bike back toward the truck, a random guy (who I could barely see without my Rx goggles on) stopped and asked what happened. He said "you were doing so awesome, you're my hero!" Seriously? Yeah, seriously. I thanked him. Told him I'd be out there again and next time I was going to finish!<br />
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About four hours after starting the race I finally got my sandwich, and sat to watch Kit and his buddy come in after riding the full 100-mile, two loop course. Both tried to bypass the finish and come straight to the truck, almost falling over while looping back around to finish properly. Neither one could walk very well after coming in from that burly ride, and both of them agreed that the second loop was way harder than the first. Sort of a good thing that I didn't finish the first lap and decide to go out for the second, it may have been a rescue mission anyhow.<br />
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So went my first desert motorcycle race... and you can bet that I finished the next one, a rough and rocky 30 miles--and I carried a beer in my pack just in case--sort of like carrying an umbrella to keep it from raining I figured.</div>
Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-53898252306349250622016-11-14T07:57:00.000-08:002016-11-16T08:03:35.410-08:00Adventures of the Hillbilly Hippies: Riding Bishop's White Mountains<style type="text/css">
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Somehow we managed to leave town and go camping two weekends in a row, something that has not happened in quite some time. For our first trip, over the last weekend in October, it was looking like nasty weather in Tahoe but quite nice in Bishop, and neither of us felt quite ready for winter yet so it was a great opportunity to escape. Although we packed climbing gear, the first item on our agenda was a return trip to Poleta Canyon to ride the Woodcutter Trail: a narrow sliver of singletrack starting at an open mine and winding across a steep sidehill, then becoming a smooth, flowing, stupendously fun trail leading high into the White Mountains and ending at the Black Canyon jeep trail. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Waiting for Kit to find the right road to the Poleta mine.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: normal;"> Ever since our first motorcycle adventure in the White Mountains two years ago we had both been wanting to go back and ride the trails we found, plus explore a little bit to try and find more. I was particularly interested to find if the narrow sidehill parts of the Woodcutter Trail got any less scary with a couple of years of riding experience, or if it was still terrifying because I was on a larger, much more powerful bike… as it turns out, I was still pretty scared at times but I felt much more confident in my riding skills and bike control and definitely got through it faster than the first time.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Heading through the sketchiest part of the Woodcutter Trail.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I was cruising along, cleaning the few small technical rocky bits and feeling so good that I was ready to throw myself at the rock waterfall partway through the upper single track—that is, until I dumped my bike three times in a row in the last 20 feet approaching the waterfall. Nope, still not a mountain bike! Mental momentum was crushed, and I got frustrated, so I gave my bike to Kit and sat back to watch. Unfortunately I pushed the wrong button on the GoPro to record all the fun. He had cleaned it on his bike this time around so I thought it might be a cake walk, but it took him a few tries to get up all of the steps, and he was about ready to chuck my bike back down the whole thing out of frustration. Apparently my bike wasn’t quite as cooperative to ride as his newer more upgraded machine… go figure!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Back to being Miss Dumps-a-lot. Dreaded waterfall section looms in the background.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: normal;"> From there my silly grin returned as the trail wound higher and higher into the White Mountains on flowing single track, dodging junipers and low hanging pine branches and occasionally catching glimpses of the Sierra Nevada to the west. Just under an hour later we reached the double track, the trail flying past so much more quickly than before, and stopped for a snack break. With a decent map and some help from fuzzy memory, we found the descent route via Black Canyon and started downward. At one point we detoured onto a fork in the road to find an old mining camp with a cool stone bath house built over a running spring. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Snack time, with a grand view of the Sierra!!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Old mining camp.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">The bath house.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: normal;"> Back on the main route and further down, we stopped at an intersection where a fork of the road went back up in the direction we came from. Kit wanted to do a little more exploration since it was still early in the day, and I thought it was a fine idea, remembering that the rider we met up here last time mentioned some more single track trails up in this area. So we went up a sandy road, then took a fork to the west and uphill, turning into a narrower trail that dropped into a canyon. It still looked like a legitimate trail at this point, and we followed it downward over small rocks that became larger waterfalls, until they became so tall and steep that the several other tracks we followed at this point went up and around through loose rock. The last large drop we came to was a good 40 feet of sheer cliff with no way to get down, and the trail seemed to disappear after going up and around to the top of the ridge. Kit went exploring on the ridge top as I struggled in the loose jumbled rocks still trying to follow, when tipping over to the downhill side and slightly tweaking my wrist pushed me to the point of utter frustration. Quickly losing my sense of adventure I left my bike laying in the rocks and angrily stomped up to the top of the hill, finding a place to sit and eat some food, figuring that being hungry never helps these situations.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Time for a frustrated snack break, looking over at the Black Canyon, which we hoped to get back to.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: normal;"> From my seat on the ridge I spotted what looked like a road and some tracks below. While I didn’t feel completely lost, I sure as heck didn’t want to retrace our route back up this canyon with all of its obstacles at this point in the day. Kit came back from his mission without a lot of inspiring news; the trail he had found further up the ridge had a hill climb so nasty that he barely was able to make it up. Then the sound of a motorcycle echoed off the canyon across from us, coming from below where I had seen the road. Looking at the slope below us it seemed like the best option to get back to the road, though it was steep and loose and quite frankly looked terrifying with my amateur descending skills on a dirt bike, and I wasn’t in a mood for any of that at this point. So, I made Kit hike back up and ride my bike down, which I felt a little bit guilty about but at the same time I didn’t want to wreck again and make the same idiotic move of putting my hand out to catch myself. Though my wrist thankfully wasn’t terribly painful, it didn’t seem like a great idea to put it through too many more hazardous situations.</span></span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: normal;"> There was a short piece of trail with a couple more waterfalls to navigate at the bottom of the canyon we dropped into, but shortly we were back out on the road and descending through the Black Canyon. Between the high rock walls and tunnels of yellow and bright green trees, even the double track jeep trail was a spectacular experience. Extremely rocky as well, though the suspension on my new bike gave a much better ride than the previous trip down it on my tiny TTR125. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Finally heading down the Black Canyon Rd.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: normal;"> The road became smoother and wider, eventually dropping down into the Owens Valley, and we navigated back to the upper Poleta OHV parking area where we had set up camp. Relieved and exhausted, we cracked open beers and stuffed ourselves with snacks to celebrate a successful adventure into the unknown and back, without any major mishaps or mechanical breakdowns. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Quite the memorable ride as well--from the fun to the hopeless flailing, this is a sport that will continue to challenge me for years to come.</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Also amazing is that we saw nobody at all the entire ride, only hearing the one rider coming through Black Canyon while we were on the ridge above figuring out our situation. We will certainly be back to see if there are more trails up there that we didn’t find, because it is one spectacular place to ride dirt bikes!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">S</span>afely back in camp! (notice zero other cars in the parking lot)</td></tr>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-45834155002338144132016-10-13T08:18:00.001-07:002017-02-09T16:39:07.251-08:00Fall musings: catching up<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finding new awesome places in our back yard!</td></tr>
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I sit here wondering how on earth I had ever managed to write two blog posts in one month, as I contemplate yet another unfinished draft on the screen started sometime in the last 2 months. Yellow aspen leaves cover the ground and the air becomes more chilly and crisp every morning. Another summer has come and gone, and thankfully this one has been more adventurous and fun-filled than the past several. There were more than a handful of great mountain bike rides, plenty of exploring the backyard mountains on dirt bikes, learning to ride a standup jet ski, even some tennis and disc golf at the nearby regional park. And of course, plenty of beach time, given our prime location right across the street from the lake.<br />
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Summer has thrown me for more than a few loops, however: a multitude of random small knee tweaks, 3 ankle sprains, minor sprains in both wrists; and to top it all off, after almost 18 years without any trouble wearing contact lenses, my eyes seemed to rebel becoming overly dry and very easily irritated. The most recent episode has had me out of contacts for over a month. Let me tell you, having to wear thick prescription glasses while riding a bicycle is a game-changer, and not in a good way. It's borderline terrifying! Every time I go through a rocky section I feel like I might as well have my eyes closed, I can't trust anything from where the rocks are to what my front wheel is doing. I don't think I've ridden so slowly in years. Also a bit dangerous: my most recent ankle sprain came courtesy of clipping a snow stake with my handlebar right in my front yard coming back from a ride. Clear peripheral vision is something one really takes for granted until they don't have it! I'm finally getting some new glasses after close to 10 years, a pair that I can hopefully do things in--or try to--without being a total klutz. And some prescription goggle inserts for moto and downhill riding, a bit more comfortable under goggles if not also better to see with. In the meantime really hoping and praying I will at some point successfully wear contacts again (or just get dang laser surgery)!! I'm so thankful that I was able to be as athletic as I have been in the past 20 years, because I sure don't think I would have been nearly as successful had I had to wear glasses the entire time...<br />
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I found that riding a dirt bike with glasses stuffed underneath my goggles feels for some reason far less sketchy than riding a mountain bike wearing said glasses, though I can't say it makes me ride any better. That is perhaps because I already feel sketchy riding a dirt bike... haha... but it makes me want to moto a lot more! Add to that my upgrade to Kit's old YZ250 after he bought a newer bike, and I feel like I might be running out of excuses to be slow. Though it's a little heavier and feels less nimble on tight technical trails, the bike has SO much more low end torque than the 125 that it feels almost like a four-stroke in comparison. So far I like it a whole lot, I don't feel too overwhelmed by the power now that I've learned the clutch is my friend, and it will definitely make me a better rider (someday). For now, it will make me a lot stronger every time I have to pick it up after dumping it.<br />
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The bad eye situation threw out my last chance of doing a bike race this year, as I decided it would be far better for my health to not try and race the gnarly Mammoth enduro course with the handicap of sketchy glasses (plus I probably would have crash landed on my face and broken my only pair). That bums me out a lot! On a brighter note I'm really looking forward to this winter and trying my first ever desert race on a dirt bike. New people, a completely new experience, and instead of having the pressure of going fast and being all "pro" and stuff I'm going to just try and finish in the Novice class. Probably making a fool of myself at some point dumping the bike or getting horribly stuck or wheelie-ing it out from under myself and up the trail... or all of the above. I'll usually try just about anything that doesn't look way over my head, and that can lead to some entertaining times and tumbling bikes. Hopefully, by the next time I get around to writing, there will be a good story to tell about my first off-road motorcycle racing adventure!<br />
<br />Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-60988532218203710962016-06-30T08:05:00.001-07:002016-06-30T08:14:41.238-07:00Adventures of the Hillbilly Hippies: Matterhorn Peak or thereabouts After pulling into a parking space at the west end of Twin Lakes near Bridgeport CA, Kit climbs into the camper and starts tossing ski boots, skins, and other various pieces of gear out from their storage. It's about 10:30 AM, following a leisurely breakfast and more catching up with a good friend visiting from up in Oregon, and I was figuring on a mellow day of hiking around checking out ski access for next winter, perhaps trying to catch some fish. However, he's decided after seeing the snowfields around the Sawtooth range in all their glory that going on a hike without bringing skis is a silly thought. Never mind our idea of an "alpine" start...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNHDKungc1ddwHgoVBs576FxCNQNEcFjxWATUdmZUiO1ou4R-NLEOgakqisEsYMj2VjAbS1Xz82hlZ3sdx52hzNWOnnUOBQwaUa1wp-WO_Y0uI2BBCAvb5wIsEWoTsp8N1oS-l-SAUrakJ/s1600/GOPR0647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNHDKungc1ddwHgoVBs576FxCNQNEcFjxWATUdmZUiO1ou4R-NLEOgakqisEsYMj2VjAbS1Xz82hlZ3sdx52hzNWOnnUOBQwaUa1wp-WO_Y0uI2BBCAvb5wIsEWoTsp8N1oS-l-SAUrakJ/s400/GOPR0647.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just starting up the Horse Creek switchbacks</td></tr>
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It took all of five minutes to convince me that taking skis along was the thing to do--I was still feeling rather out of shape but I was pretty confident I could at least give it an honest try. So I said, wonky knees be damned, I need a good nutty mountain adventure and that's exactly why we are here! What better way to celebrate my birthday!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNK0zSOOmMPi1meV3BrdLkV61GQaV7aTtPYM5oAp8yWVqjCfFi0PKUsUS3VTsgNa0MxJ5pPSOEX-a7lVXDgyUGQaSEpQPa3-DGZQS-HmSYicWy3ZHNmgmBGaty-CjePyfv0AyzcfAawYdb/s1600/IMG_2615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNK0zSOOmMPi1meV3BrdLkV61GQaV7aTtPYM5oAp8yWVqjCfFi0PKUsUS3VTsgNa0MxJ5pPSOEX-a7lVXDgyUGQaSEpQPa3-DGZQS-HmSYicWy3ZHNmgmBGaty-CjePyfv0AyzcfAawYdb/s400/IMG_2615.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the meadows above Horse Creek Falls</td></tr>
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Shouldering our packs and wandering into the campground, we got a little helpful trail beta from a climber who was about to embark on the same route, sans skis of course, for a 2-day climb of Matterhorn Peak. We cruised up the Horse Creek falls switchbacks and on past the beaver ponds after the terrain flattened out, swatting at mosquitoes (who forgot the repellent?) and marveling at the lack of any other people at this point. Maybe I'm not as out of shape as I think, for an average human anyhow... And at around 8,500 feet, finally, a patch of snow! And another! Shortly after, the route intersected a steep snowfield where we stopped for a lunch of leftover spaghetti and put our ski boots on, hoping for continuous snow from here.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHGyLtN40Q9C_akOY1KDd5kPh5xThitarIMe-vNc9Q_ciYniHJXKh4dWdKDqUx2MxOLZnv93qxj_fNVok4m4P8h8xzJlL45oz-ocAmJMiaOjeyuuA2JUzQ0yv_egYMlsNspNwdQsCKROMb/s1600/GOPR0657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHGyLtN40Q9C_akOY1KDd5kPh5xThitarIMe-vNc9Q_ciYniHJXKh4dWdKDqUx2MxOLZnv93qxj_fNVok4m4P8h8xzJlL45oz-ocAmJMiaOjeyuuA2JUzQ0yv_egYMlsNspNwdQsCKROMb/s400/GOPR0657.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just about to take off our ski boots and put hiking shoes on again</td></tr>
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Wishful thinking that turned out to be: a change in aspect brought no snow in sight for at least another thousand feet of vertical up granite slabs and loose kitty litter switchbacks. I proposed that we could climb up the snow-covered eastern Horse Creek drainage to a high point and get some nice fall line turns down, but Kit disagreed, thinking it would be way cooler to follow the approach for Matterhorn Peak and see how far up we could get. I concurred. Back on with the shoes for now. At this point my legs were really feeling worked, not painful just tired and slowing down a lot. Plodding up the steep switchbacks in the sun I was finally starting to wear down and lose motivation, seeing us hiking back down this part of trail if we didn't find another way down with more snow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPbDmxV9FkOQcph_FoZiX4yMS_IXhyphenhyphenC9x_ItdP8nsbtvo5hzqEfYFItIBK-dRqrFOQvDR40Wl6GlIy6uxKqZsd9KfQGzlpi8sypflvUcLiXdS-xlFozPmVvUokTqhpRrFbng15w1ttwWM/s1600/GOPR0659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPbDmxV9FkOQcph_FoZiX4yMS_IXhyphenhyphenC9x_ItdP8nsbtvo5hzqEfYFItIBK-dRqrFOQvDR40Wl6GlIy6uxKqZsd9KfQGzlpi8sypflvUcLiXdS-xlFozPmVvUokTqhpRrFbng15w1ttwWM/s400/GOPR0659.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow! Lake! And such majestic granite peaks!</td></tr>
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Reaching the top of the ridge we were greeted by a tiny alpine lake and jagged granite peaks above in all directions. Finding snow again and finally putting skis on feet felt energizing, and we skinned up rather sun-cupped snow towards the rocky pyramid of Matterhorn Peak. The west couloir was looking very enticing. Maybe another thousand feet higher in elevation I spotted what looked like a break in the cliffs to our left, possibly offering an escape into the eastern drainage for a better ski descent. Still thinking we might head higher I clicked out of my skis and scrambled over just to check it out. Meanwhile Kit takes his skis off and sits down for a snack. We discuss our options, settling on heading back down from here. After all, we still had to hike all the way back down to the car, most of it carrying skis and boots. Neither of us had remembered a headlamp, and even with the long days near summer solstice it seemed like a good idea not to push our luck.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUjw3CR8bIsSfGiT3cL_rJuF0QNGvy4HaLiaug1TOHyUXm8SIzkP4E6wDH1zNher6x_03h_sRvs6OVKls0rfDyAXKRDFS0dRrbB8S7TjvWJVdLUEXuxbD1F6m1c33KKjVjXO5A1-_5q1J/s1600/IMG_2616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUjw3CR8bIsSfGiT3cL_rJuF0QNGvy4HaLiaug1TOHyUXm8SIzkP4E6wDH1zNher6x_03h_sRvs6OVKls0rfDyAXKRDFS0dRrbB8S7TjvWJVdLUEXuxbD1F6m1c33KKjVjXO5A1-_5q1J/s400/IMG_2616.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skinning up below Matterhorn Peak</td></tr>
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A short scramble through some trees and we popped out at the top of a nice steep snowfield. It looked as though we would have to traverse quite a bit to stay on continuous snow, but from my memory looking at it from below, it should be do-able. We could have hiked over and up from here for more vertical descent, but both our legs said mehhhhhh.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs0EL4lqzbr8rm6s9m3hxD67Aykgi2hc6KZjxn5xwx0ci-YqlJpqwVPlvsAmOi-beSS4Sa9HgXLRrKOj3kNhTCYD4cBASQyMbhBFnH5Jyw3x4LO0yrFq0VlqFmT8AL8QzEVlW5XXG1E7zW/s1600/GOPR0671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs0EL4lqzbr8rm6s9m3hxD67Aykgi2hc6KZjxn5xwx0ci-YqlJpqwVPlvsAmOi-beSS4Sa9HgXLRrKOj3kNhTCYD4cBASQyMbhBFnH5Jyw3x4LO0yrFq0VlqFmT8AL8QzEVlW5XXG1E7zW/s400/GOPR0671.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back over to the eastern Horse Creek drainage</td></tr>
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Skis on and we're off! A couple of turns, then a hard traverse right, over some rocks and more traversing. We found ourselves atop a steep section that narrowed a bit but definitely went through.<br />
Yes!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most excellent skiing to be had!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not bad at all!</td></tr>
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Great skiing through here, and then an attempted launch off a nice quarter pipe feature below brought some laughs as Kit went flying sideways. Then, dodging rocks to the end of the snow, followed by a good bit of the favorite hiking over talus in ski boots to reach the next snow patch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes you just don't want to take your skis off going from one patch to the next--or across a creek.</td></tr>
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Back at our lunch spot it was time to put skis and boots back on our packs for the dreaded hike back down to Twin Lakes. Fun and exhilaration faded into weary legs and sore shoulders, navigating jumbled boulders and rocky trails, trying not to trip and go sprawling all across the trail with legs and skis flying.<br />
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Distance flew by until we reached the switchbacks; there, time slowed to a crawl and the valley floor seemed not to get any closer. Feet and knees ached and the trail dove downward relentlessly, until finally Twin Lakes came into view, tantalizing with the promise of a dip in the icy cold water. Almost there, nothing can stop us now...<br />
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Finally the trail reached the river and became flat, just before tents and campers came into view among the trees. Across the campground and to the truck, dropping our packs, kicking off shoes and cracking open beers. 6 hours from car to car, a cheers to the longest, most awesome mountain adventure I have been on since probably 2012. I felt no weird joint pains at all, hooray! Slightly sunburned, covered in mosquito bites, and every muscle tired and sore, I definitely earned the lazy Sunday that followed--and I also probably can't call myself totally out of shape any more following this nearly 10-mile round trip with 3,000 feet in elevation gain!<br />
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<br />Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-21779584125876412882016-06-22T07:28:00.000-07:002016-06-22T07:28:35.208-07:00Hey summer, slow down!! Holy moly! Time seems to be flying by at warp speed--is it really the end of June already? Being busy is good in some ways, but sure as heck doesn't let me "waste" time writing pointless blog posts any more. Life is generally pretty awesome back up on the north shore of Tahoe, living just steps from the lake, riding a bike to work every day and taking the dog to the beach just about every night. I figure I've gotten more hours on the bike than in the past 3(!!) summers already, although I managed to miss the first race I had signed up for in June due to a combination of a crazy work deadline and slight tweak to the knee. A huge bummer, and it leaves me feeling that I still need to prove to myself that I can do a dang bike race if I want to!<br />
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The knee/hip/everything else problems are still working themselves out slowly, with about an hour or so of stretches and exercises before work every morning plus as much foam roller as I can stand. Nothing feels perfect but it's not bad enough to stop me from riding...usually. There have been a handful of random mishaps like a sprained ankle, neck, knee and lower back tweaks, all spaced out about 2 weeks apart and one right when the previous is finally feeling healed. It felt like about 3 months of that annoying business. Must be just getting old and clumsy or something.<br />
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The dirt bike was supposed to be a winter toy for those weekends when the snow isn't great, put away for most of the summer in favor of a mountain bike, but the more I figure out my new moto the more awesome it gets and it's becoming a real dilemma what to ride in between working on projects around the house. Add to that the plethora of OHV trails behind my house and the indecision only increases. We've found some really awesome new singletrack to explore and can get to places after work that would never happen on a 2-hour mountain bike pedal. It's a blast, I can't argue with myself on that at all!<br />
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Yeah, I do really want to do some enduro MTB racing, and I miss the awesome people I've met racing bikes in the past. Still love the silence and light-ness of being on a mountain bike. But dang, I've got a pretty hardcore dirt bike addiction going right now! The speed and focus of riding a downhill bike but ALL the time, not just going down hills. The challenge of finding things that I think for sure I can't get up, but then with some struggling I can eventually get at least my bike up it even if I'm not riding it at the moment... occasionally, I even get through the harder technical bits while actually ON the motorcycle, now that deserves an extra beer at the end of the ride!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spring in the desert just might be my favorite! So many wildflowers!</td></tr>
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So there was the short version of the last 3 or 4 months. What's next? Scheduling is looking like a mess this summer with a couple of weddings interfering with two big races I'd wanted to do at Northstar and Mammoth, and the rest of the California Enduro Series being just plain sold out. What the heck! Guess I'll have to take up motorcycle racing in the desert this fall... I can't imagine those being sold out at all. If I manage to do some mountain bike racing at all this summer I will definitely be posting about the momentous occasion, as well as any other awesome adventures that I can get into now that I'm not completely falling apart any more. Let's hope things keep going that way because I am having entirely too much fun with life again!Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-71108411725655741972016-02-18T08:51:00.001-08:002016-02-18T08:51:23.228-08:00How to be a beginner... again I keep starting blog posts and forgetting to finish them until long after they've become irrelevant, so with a little extra time on hand I figured I'd get this one out there. We seem to have blown right past 2015 and into February of 2016 already. How'd that happen so fast?? The skiing was incredible from December until the end of January when things warmed up a lot, and we've more or less had spring for a few weeks now. Great corn skiing and perfect beach afternoons with the dog have been in abundance. Also, nice weather means spending more time with my new obsession: dirt biking. All of this is great, but we could probably use a little more snow before spring really begins to warm things up, and help the lake fill up some more. Lake level is looking much better than it has in several years but still has a long ways to go before many of the piers on the north shore are back in the water.<br />
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On to the whole beginner thing... For Christmas Kit absolutely nailed gift-giving, and though it wasn't much of a surprise because we discussed the options at length, he brought me home a new dirt bike. I thought it was pretty funny how I putted along happily on my little Honda CRF-230 without complaining but when Kit hopped on to try and get it un-stuck from some situation I'd gotten it into, he declared it was a giant heap of junk. Taking a spin on his bike I realized quickly that yes, brakes ARE actually supposed to work to slow you down. And a bike without a kick start is no good when the battery refuses to stay charged. At least I got really good at figuring out how to bump start the bike in all different kinds of terrain.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The new shred-mobile!</td></tr>
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I almost ended up with a 4-stroke 250 trail bike, but before we went to look at any it was decided that one of those was going to be way too heavy; me not being very big plus the number of times I would probably be lifting and lugging it around after wiping out. The new bike wound up being a 2-stroke Yamaha YZ-125, almost identical to Kit's bike but with a smaller engine, almost 80 pounds lighter than my CRF and supposedly easy to fix if I blow it up. Finally a real "grown-up" bike! Having friends who ride 2-stroke bikes I had heard plenty about how different they can be to ride and I couldn't help but be a little nervous about the whole situation. Riding my CRF was sort of like riding an extremely heavy bicycle with a motor, very predictable and would crawl up most things I'd care to point it at. It also sort of didn't seem to care what I did with the clutch lever and wouldn't exactly leap forward with the throttle open.<br />
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So, for my first time on the new bike I was slightly terrified, although the first 10 minutes was an anticlimactic comedy of stalling every time I tried to take off in first gear. Apparently, modulating the clutch does actually serve a useful purpose, unlike on my old bike which seemed to go no matter what--stalling and/or popping unintentional wheelies was a frequent occurrence at first but I've been getting much better lately. A slight twist of the throttle will send the bike jumping almost out from underneath me, requiring constant attention to my hands and positioning on the bike. I would compare it to riding a skittish horse that might spook at any moment but can be kept somewhat under control with the right technique. A different animal entirely!<br />
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Once I got a little better at actually controlling the bike things got even more fun. The YZ even feels way lighter, handles so much better and is getting more and more rad to ride every time, though I'm still working on the clutch-throttle control for trickier hill climb conditions. When things don't go as planned, it's also noticeably lighter to pick up and get turned around, though still a heavy beast compared with a mountain bike and will wear me out in a hurry!<br />
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Oddly enough, it turns out, my nemesis is going downhill, which I discovered pretty early on. Strange for a pro-ish downhill mountain biker, right? I thought so too. For some reason, staring down a steep long hill strewn with loose shale with a long ways to go to the safe runout turns me into a blubbering weenie. The brakes are weird--right foot rear brake is the farthest from making any sense at all! Then I freak out and forget that the clutch lever is not a brake like on a mountain bike. I discover that engine braking on 2-strokes is not quite as strong as on 4-strokes, and the engine keeps dying and rear wheel locking up, sliding sideways in the looseness. If I accidentally hit the throttle, nothing good happens. Way too much going on, when the last thing I want to be doing is picking up more speed! What do I do then? BAIL!!!! This is not the recommended solution, however, especially when one's leg might get twisted funny and result in a sore knee for a couple of weeks. Acquiring a brace seemed like a good idea after that experience. Eventually I will conquer this irrational fear of descending, but until then I might wind up coasting down many things with the engine off to feel more like a bicycle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Kit gets sideways in the sand.</td></tr>
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All sports have inherently frustrating moments but I haven't been so thoroughly humbled in a long time as I have learning how to ride a dirt bike... though I've progressed a lot in the year and a half since I started, it still feels like everyone else is miles ahead of me. Perhaps if I was able to pay my way to a World Cup downhill I would experience a similar level of complete ass-kicking. Not all trails are quite as gnarly as what I got dragged through last month, but there are constant challenges to figure out, and occasionally a chance to celebrate getting through something I didn't think I could do. Riding with awesome friends who wait for me and make sure I don't get hopelessly lost or stuck also helps a lot. Trials and tribulations haven't seemed to ruin the fun yet and I find myself grinning all the way home after a ride, uncontrollably excited for the next time I get to get out and test myself on the same hill or techy trail, unable to stop talking about what a great ride it was! Somehow the allure of mastering something completely new has become an obsession the likes of which I haven't felt in some time. Not that I've completely given up on mountain biking yet, don't worry!Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-63139284964103325812015-11-02T15:04:00.000-08:002015-11-03T10:56:01.923-08:00Fall into...winter? A snowy day. Wood stove blazing, lamb stew in the crock pot. Enjoying a bit of calm before the chaos of moving back to Kings Beach begins in less than 2 weeks, and back to full time work a few days after that. Kit is happily back working for his old boss as a plumber, and I'm excited to start my new job at <a href="http://tahoemountainsports.com/">Tahoe Mountain Sports</a> learning all about shipping and retail, working with rad people at a successful locally owned business. In addition, planning to continue making wooden spoons and other small items for Roundwood to keep creating fun artsy things. The process of selling and buying houses, for once, is feeling like it's going smoothly. Hopefully this is the last real estate adventure we'll have for a very long time, and I do mean it!<br />
My body (and mental state) is finally returning to a normal state; my left knee doesn't quite bend all the way but is getting a lot closer with stretching and physical therapy. At least it's no longer half the size of my right leg--that was pretty scary. Rock climbing has gotten much more fun being able to do all but the most crazy of high-steps, and things are feeling quite good on the bike although I don't go very fast uphill yet. I even ventured out on a dirt bike ride around our local trails, having so much fun that we went out again the next day. So tired and sore afterward but SO much fun!<br />
The weekend before was my first big mountain bike ride since sometime in April when I became a basket case for most of the summer. Our friends suggested a rather long ride with copious amounts of pedaling and pushing bikes; a shuttle to hike up the back side of Armstrong Pass to a section of the Tahoe Rim Trail up to Freel Pass, then down to Star Lake and Cold Creek trail and finally pedaling back to their house. Debating the wisdom of jumping into a 15-mile ride so soon, I agreed after much peer pressure... after all, it is mostly downhill. The very first hike up the short steep backside trail to Armstrong was quite honestly the worst part, wherein I considered feigning knee pain to bail on the rest of the ride and head down the Armstrong Pass trail to Connector-Corral and back home. Popping an unexpectedly good wheelie and downing a snack at the top improved my outlook a whole lot and I decided to push onward hiking and pedaling up to chilly Freel Pass.<br />
It was such an epic, soul-reviving experience, despite wearing my horribly out-of-shape body down to exhaustion by the end. Rocky, sandy, un-groomed singletrack above Star Lake led to slightly smoother, newer trails below, and into Cold Creek's infamous boulder-bashing rock sections and fast flowy turns at the bottom. I LOVE BIKE RIDING!!!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting in on the delicious 3,000 foot descent down from Freel Pass</td></tr>
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The flip side of having all of this fun? Well, it just happens to be creating an enormous bike dilemma for me. Spending the majority of the season with an Ibis Ripley collecting dust in the shed until recently means I never got a chance to really appreciate the bike to its fullest potential and decide if I really thought it was all that and a bag of potato chips... until now, conveniently, when I'm already late on handing it back over (sorry!!) Until this particular day I was all ready to get back on board with my buddy at Lichen Bikes, the polar opposite to this flashy carbon fiber beast. Solidly built from lightweight steel and stable at high speeds, his creation rides like an exceptionally pedal-able downhill bike. Also fun, no doubt, and Kit loves his Lichen Bike. Whereas the Ripley feels like a BMX bike with suspension, so easy to pop over obstacles, flick through tight trees, and throw in a few decent manuals. Most noticeable, though, was the amount of energy that I saved having such a stinking light bike that feels like it practically pedals itself. I was able to coast many times where everyone else pedaled, and I'm pretty sure the bike was the only reason I wasn't too terribly far behind everyone on the climb up. Yes, I feel like I've now drank the carbon 29er kool-aid... Eeks! And no, I'm not worried about racing enduro on it. I used to race super-Ds on a hardtail, and my first DH season was on a ridiculous excuse for a bike, so that's right up my alley.<br />
First-world problems, indeed. Can't I just have both bikes and enjoy each of them for what they are? Budgetarily, no. I shouldn't even be thinking of buying a dang fancy carbon bike right now, but with selling a couple of houses and starting a steady job I'm feeling pretty good about things. So everyone (especially Devin of Lichen Bikes), please forgive me, I think I'm about to indulge myself in a carbon "dream bike" at least for one more season. And I think that Lichen could build one heck of a DH bike, which I might also be looking for soon. No carbon wanted in that department!!<br />
When the dust settles and life is as back to normal as it will ever be, hopefully some fun weekend adventures will commence. Perhaps, even of the snowy sort... it's still too early for me to believe we will actually have a real winter here in Tahoe but we all hope that it happens!Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-47269455446777888612015-10-02T11:55:00.002-07:002015-11-02T12:33:13.102-08:00Sometimes, things get better! What the heck! It's so hard to believe summer has come and gone already! It really feels like just yesterday I was coming back from an amazing bike vacation to Southern California. What happened in between? I really just want to forget about it all. Mostly I have avoided writing much this summer because I've been afraid it would turn into a whine-fest about not riding bikes or having fun; sometimes my state of mind was so uncharacteristically depressed or upset that I really didn't care to share my thoughts at all.<br />
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On the positive side, I got the MRI done on my knee and, though puzzling, no abnormalities were found whatsoever! This is good news, but at the same time SO incredibly frustrating that I spent 5 months more or less babying the knee to avoid tearing the meniscus any further. Grrrr!!!<br />
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Following that I booked an evaluation with a new Tahoe area physical therapist (no more Barton) to get an opinion on what the problem might be, not wanting to wait any longer to start real rehab if I could. It sounds like muscle atrophy and imbalance are causing patella tracking issues, which are easy enough to resolve with specific strengthening exercises, and in fact I started feeling much less pain the day after beginning the exercises. Go figure! I'm still going to see Ashwin at Great Basin PT in another week for his opinion, but since it takes a few weeks to get in to see him I thought I'd give this new PT a try. I randomly met her at a friend's house and thought she seemed to know a lot, so far I'm happy with the results.<br />
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Last night I got to ride and finally not hold back as much, and it was incredible. Flying down singletrack freshly damp from a day's rainfall was exactly the encouragement needed to feed my soul and re-ignite the fire of passion for being on two wheels. The knee felt pretty dang good all throughout the ride and just a little stiff afterward, nothing a bit of ice and massage couldn't fix. On the mend again and I'm feeling as though the winter might not be a total loss after all. Following that, I just need to break this horrible curse of springtime injuries and finally get a whole summer to play again!Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-14825699778025050652015-07-19T10:52:00.000-07:002015-07-19T12:18:52.862-07:00 Dear Life: will you please stop giving me lemons...... I've made enough vodka lemonades to last a lifetime. We're all getting sick of them around here. Perhaps some limes would be nice for a change, then we can have margaritas or gin and tonics instead, or Mexican beers with lime...much more variety, and beer does go well with fishing!<br />
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In all seriousness that's an attempt at dealing with my current situation with good humor: a knee injury which refuses to resolve itself, along with jumping through frustrating insurance-related hoops to find out exactly what is wrong. Hopefully I don't sound like too much of a whiner. Supposedly it's a torn meniscus, as confirmed by 3 different PTs. The type of tear is of course a mystery until I can get an MRI, hence the insurance hoops. I'm feeling trapped in a vicious cycle of needing better insurance, which costs more, which I need a better job to get, which I almost definitely need a functional knee to be hired for... I almost got back into vector control, which is a nice cushy summer job, but a neck injury in the spring kept me from completing the required physical exam. The knee is not completely debilitating which is nice and I fully appreciate that. But 3 summers in a ROW of not being completely myself? Well, I'm glad to have enjoyed being in one piece this past winter as much as possible! My mind is trapped in a constant battle between abject misery on one hand and forced optimism on the other--come on now, I still have two legs attached to my body ya know! And they are functional too, hooray! One day I will go a full year without hurting myself and that will be an amazing experience!!<br />
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I am, admittedly, incredibly bummed to not be racing bikes AGAIN this summer. But I'm trying not to dwell on it too much, focusing instead on what I still can do to stay involved with the bike community and SheJumps. It is a totally lame situation for somebody like me who loves to do everything outdoors, but relative to how bad things could be, I'm really lucky that they are what they are. I have actually been able to ride my bike on trails though rather slowly and very carefully to avoid tweaking my knee. I also have done some easy rock climbs, successfully able to avoid any moves that might make it worse. Activity usually makes it feel better; there may be a slight overall improvement over the past months, but then again I might also be getting used to the varying degrees of inflammation and just doing more things regardless. I'm also really starting to like fishing a whole lot more, with a little bit of hiking around or sitting in a canoe. Sometimes quite boring when not catching fish, but when one starts getting fish on the line it becomes a whole lot more fun. I have not caught anything on a fly rod yet this year--that's a whole new mystery that I'm still trying to unravel!<br />
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-49063610624843491122015-04-09T08:55:00.000-07:002015-04-09T09:00:01.275-07:00Catching up<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-v1zTXpN9-3ZmqQetxPS9HKna-N9OgVz6BnQn_N45yJ6gq1jsutSFRa4wb4q5iK8x_hV_ea1fF2wO7o_DVnR4dT17eyh7iT5FRe1vbOZpu5yNKSPHRWFu6hykvL5AIDwb-J7LGtR48FP7/s1600/photo6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-v1zTXpN9-3ZmqQetxPS9HKna-N9OgVz6BnQn_N45yJ6gq1jsutSFRa4wb4q5iK8x_hV_ea1fF2wO7o_DVnR4dT17eyh7iT5FRe1vbOZpu5yNKSPHRWFu6hykvL5AIDwb-J7LGtR48FP7/s1600/photo6.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spring "training camp" in San Diego</td></tr>
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Once again I've been working and playing outside way too much to write anything so here's a bit of what's been going on. Things got shaken up a lot since the last time I posted: <a href="http://vanderkitten.com/">Vanderkitten</a> offered me a spot on their women's Pro MTB team for this season and I absolutely could not turn it down. I'm so honored to even be considered to belong on a team with some <a href="https://vanderkitten.com/vanderkitten-pro-athletes/">amazingly fast women</a>! It feels great after two years of frustration and struggles with injuries that things are coming together to create this opportunity for me to get out there and enjoy racing bikes more than ever. Take a look at my Sponsors page for an updated list of supporters for this race season--great companies that I am really proud to represent!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOje47kp3N-bHPLyR7n387Ei-kNOoAPSwhNoPVwt19-wZXOZzvkgw4TVytdZY7xlx9d2D8cEeMuz4M5HGC4YJ62SR8-UUfrauyGkVFTunbRxyRSQJ5jyd3RGC1cAa0pC6hylpkaTPtOnw/s1600/IMG_4315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOje47kp3N-bHPLyR7n387Ei-kNOoAPSwhNoPVwt19-wZXOZzvkgw4TVytdZY7xlx9d2D8cEeMuz4M5HGC4YJ62SR8-UUfrauyGkVFTunbRxyRSQJ5jyd3RGC1cAa0pC6hylpkaTPtOnw/s1600/IMG_4315.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ibis Cycles is my new bike sponsor; yes, that is a Ripley 29er...</td></tr>
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The Sea Otter Classic is set to be my first race back in 2 years, and of course I missed signing up for the enduro before it sold out, but I will be racing the dual slalom and DH and hanging out with my new teammates and old friends that I haven't seen in forever. Stop by the Vanderkitten booth and say hi to us!<br />
It will certainly be a new adventure racing enduro, and will probably be a lot tougher for me to get on the podium than the downhill races I've done. I have been strength training more than ever before this winter and feeling good but have not been getting consistent mileage on the bike. It's been so long since I have trained for endurance events that I think I might have forgotten how. It is still early season and I am usually a slow starter, so there is time to pick up and be strong for the mid-season races. Despite the new challenges (and I do love those) I'm looking forward to doing some really fun-sounding races in new locations, including the possibility of a Whistler trip to race Crankworx...Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-11505932744618581652015-02-23T09:18:00.000-08:002015-02-23T09:33:51.116-08:00Life seems to be mostly...normal? I've really been slacking on writing blogs lately; blame the madness of the 3 jobs I'm juggling this winter (of course I couldn't pick just one or two) and the beautiful but strangely unseasonal weather we've been having making it hard to sit down indoors. It's likely that I have ridden bikes nearly as many days as skied this season with near record low snowfall amounts.<br />
The house drama of the last 2 years has fully faded out and is replaced with a sense of being at least somewhat settled. I'm getting to know the ins and outs of South Lake, becoming well acquainted with where not to go on crowded weekends, and where to find the best adventures in my own backyard. Finding work has been interesting to say the least, but it's always come together at the last minute and I'm hoping to get settled into a routine sooner or later and not have the frantic end of season scramble for the next season's job.<br />
It dawned on me recently that I've been able to do most everything that I enjoy for the first time in a couple of years without worrying about aggravating this or that injury. While riding to and from running errands in town, I was struck by the joy of simply pedaling on a bicycle again to get from place to place. Occasionally my hip aches a little bit but less and less as time goes on, an indication that spending time in the gym with a trainer is doing exactly what it is supposed to do. That was a bigger financial commitment than I wanted to make, but with the alternative being more struggles with injuries, I was good and ready to try something new rather than following the same dumb pattern over and over again.<br />
It feels amazing to be able to ride bikes and also have the social aspect of riding be a part of my life again. I am finding out, just as should be expected, that I'm a heck of a lot slower than I was before everything happened. Frustrating as it is to eat dust following my friends on the trail, I know I'm on the right track and have to stay positive about it--which isn't that hard to do with a silly singletrack-induced grin all over my face.<br />
And now, I leave you with a few photos from the last dirt bike trip to Black Rock Desert:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwf-G_R0fAW3_vouy_fh_k0bhK8hjl_itlPV3hwgtOfyfO95fjJHFzKxhZbHFJ-hFyvkYGPa70KEQORa29r9AHcJZpcyZtVJh_3xoBvX9AVxOY6gsTaiwsBWHxQFLLznEulqsv-cT53hz4/s1600/IMG_4242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwf-G_R0fAW3_vouy_fh_k0bhK8hjl_itlPV3hwgtOfyfO95fjJHFzKxhZbHFJ-hFyvkYGPa70KEQORa29r9AHcJZpcyZtVJh_3xoBvX9AVxOY6gsTaiwsBWHxQFLLznEulqsv-cT53hz4/s1600/IMG_4242.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot springs at Soldier Meadows campground.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkvhO-2tj4CP9uRS5_94NjGFJ3ykqY2owGK7e-TrYc3po1ipNq_qDimUSCchWRc5YoiYEjS0O2u8dPcHLUlsCob1PWxJ8F2azNAqbTkkhUULUGRJj6sUoref3XKQ1cjXMBwROM-Z81Uc4/s1600/IMG_4247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkvhO-2tj4CP9uRS5_94NjGFJ3ykqY2owGK7e-TrYc3po1ipNq_qDimUSCchWRc5YoiYEjS0O2u8dPcHLUlsCob1PWxJ8F2azNAqbTkkhUULUGRJj6sUoref3XKQ1cjXMBwROM-Z81Uc4/s1600/IMG_4247.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were hoping to ride up High Rock Canyon road but it already closed for the season. It is really spectacular!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjeY561bKG0_MqPNxhRseUxTjfCGM1Sp4n_LXY7GV0M1XF2EgNHnopEgnWGgtmxWQjwfwBPPO-QTxWA6uQHkUrxj2pDULBfA2NYvNkzJ3UiCRTVS3hqng07SHM5o2ODuVPDnniJ5mAxYK/s1600/IMG_4254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjeY561bKG0_MqPNxhRseUxTjfCGM1Sp4n_LXY7GV0M1XF2EgNHnopEgnWGgtmxWQjwfwBPPO-QTxWA6uQHkUrxj2pDULBfA2NYvNkzJ3UiCRTVS3hqng07SHM5o2ODuVPDnniJ5mAxYK/s1600/IMG_4254.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of empty space, nobody out here but us and a few herds of bighorn sheep way off in the distance.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJNFxE5gEigxHjGAjFDnvanN4L8CkILGByeB0dtJugEWbUPgX-Loagk-5QIU0KSpyFWgXdb1Tje4bNiXTRLzLcyg7ESmxzDOBqvOtp57ELFEEZxxD8jVbbRTtA4u8rVS7jfnmW6wTVB9c/s1600/IMG_4262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJNFxE5gEigxHjGAjFDnvanN4L8CkILGByeB0dtJugEWbUPgX-Loagk-5QIU0KSpyFWgXdb1Tje4bNiXTRLzLcyg7ESmxzDOBqvOtp57ELFEEZxxD8jVbbRTtA4u8rVS7jfnmW6wTVB9c/s1600/IMG_4262.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smooth dirt, a nice break from the rocky ride the day before.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3xgfK7tgl8iNC1CFRKYbV24DWru3GBN8a7J-W60NhfqSHkCs6qg9VYrTz90VMHdmMJDcCNPr4URJv4e2pgcNzfZezRQ4x6NikSjQc9kqkXHSBc5dJUuyQYm_2dp4TWnS2vqq4setVUkm/s1600/IMG_4263.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3xgfK7tgl8iNC1CFRKYbV24DWru3GBN8a7J-W60NhfqSHkCs6qg9VYrTz90VMHdmMJDcCNPr4URJv4e2pgcNzfZezRQ4x6NikSjQc9kqkXHSBc5dJUuyQYm_2dp4TWnS2vqq4setVUkm/s1600/IMG_4263.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water- and time-sculpted rock of Fly Canyon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9cTEoslSjaGZgKZcQ1nlSUEj5TmkI-3Xvl_j2BV70ALv0D6qlpVM1fYhY7Z1LL_G20hONtdEOffYYPFXDlTMBQhvS8SZnCp_04041Tnjc6-adi64Gba_3OeTSxdsufg3ALgC-YJc2v6R/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9cTEoslSjaGZgKZcQ1nlSUEj5TmkI-3Xvl_j2BV70ALv0D6qlpVM1fYhY7Z1LL_G20hONtdEOffYYPFXDlTMBQhvS8SZnCp_04041Tnjc6-adi64Gba_3OeTSxdsufg3ALgC-YJc2v6R/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere up in the Calico Mountains.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8eMa4kq_rcdye6isKgwMbD7wj2grmZrE_iM97lZW5r_Zyuy47B37mouXj0InpWzXBP6b2p4WFb5ARnAROLQxAn5CTMFog1HwOcAIlpQX8LBu1WGQ7BfqA9LevNa9LcfLqDqncMCbQ9wjP/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8eMa4kq_rcdye6isKgwMbD7wj2grmZrE_iM97lZW5r_Zyuy47B37mouXj0InpWzXBP6b2p4WFb5ARnAROLQxAn5CTMFog1HwOcAIlpQX8LBu1WGQ7BfqA9LevNa9LcfLqDqncMCbQ9wjP/s1600/photo+5.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obligatory playa shot.</td></tr>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-54618596162361707972015-01-14T16:38:00.002-08:002015-01-20T17:28:56.915-08:00The big Northwest road trip! Well, I've been so busy and distracted that the end of 2014 blew right past me at warp speed. I spent the last week of it with Kit up in western Washington visiting my parents and friends, and then New Year's Eve in Cashmere, WA with Kit's cousin. That itself was a random experience: hanging out at a small local's bar in a cute but podunk little town, with an overly friendly bartender and a guy singing terrible cover songs at open mic night. We didn't make it to midnight despite our most valiant efforts to tolerate the music...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA5QYerbIYdtWbLECwiC8dWDq9l1PB0MgnHKAYwTRN6XxWYqMcOsTCJbRD3LkjlbWUCQJGsmEeLieZvx8qu5TIUYjx57JxbmEl5EJehRu9kgU-YFqV4NtrMOz07H2MMVO8yoK1vH2pN3lj/s1600/horses.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA5QYerbIYdtWbLECwiC8dWDq9l1PB0MgnHKAYwTRN6XxWYqMcOsTCJbRD3LkjlbWUCQJGsmEeLieZvx8qu5TIUYjx57JxbmEl5EJehRu9kgU-YFqV4NtrMOz07H2MMVO8yoK1vH2pN3lj/s1600/horses.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Klamath Falls, OR. They must have a problem with sidewalk horses here.</td></tr>
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Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was crammed into or tied onto the outside of our chosen road trip-mobile, a Dodge Neon: Skis, poles, boots, a bicycle (2 on the way back), moto boots and helmets, bike gear, climbing gear, fishing stuff, a week of clothes, presents, food, 2 people and a big headed dog. It took 2 days to drive from Tahoe to Washington, stopping in Portland for a night to have beers with a couple of friends and catch some sleep.<br />
Arrived in Washington to clear skies (a miracle) and took some walks with the dog. Kit got to see a bit more of Poulsbo, the bay and also historic Port Gamble. On a slightly soggy day we drove up north on the Olympic Peninsula with the idea to get all the way out to the coast. It got late so we stopped to see Dungeness Spit instead, then on to Port Angeles where we found a little aquarium. There we watched an octopus try to pounce on its live crab dinner a couple of times, but it completely missed. Thanks to my parents' generous neighbor we chowed on freshly caught crab ourselves this trip, a real Northwestern treat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJBwAE1KlLBrirKSOltrbKuzMOfaG0UK6EYk1-jMm32z_fv7dCmsovSNCc4JN9N0_8DHpsbwt7GXbLTWwQ0fx5mRczB5iS8Z3OX5swMnzUbZfjZj1x6qVpyW1S4rM6WedpbKAtWooP2lh/s1600/IMG_2447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJBwAE1KlLBrirKSOltrbKuzMOfaG0UK6EYk1-jMm32z_fv7dCmsovSNCc4JN9N0_8DHpsbwt7GXbLTWwQ0fx5mRczB5iS8Z3OX5swMnzUbZfjZj1x6qVpyW1S4rM6WedpbKAtWooP2lh/s1600/IMG_2447.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking around Fort Worden, Port Townsend WA</td></tr>
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Tourist time over, we rode bikes the next day at Green Mountain where I have been a number of times, but this time on a new trail that was ridiculously fun. The top was cloudy so there were no views, but the tacky dirt and techy roots more than made up for it. As did finally riding my new bike, with its builder Devin from Lichen Bikes! Grinning nonstop, splattered with mud, we had to hike up to ride another short trail that was steeper and more root-encrusted than the first. I'm still in disbelief that I never rode those trails the whole time I lived there.<br />
We rode again the next day with my dad, chasing him around the nearby Port Gamble trail system. There has been so much development of new trails that I am totally blown away every time I come home and ride there. In addition to the original handful of trails that I remember from growing up there have been many more added of the rough, rooty old style winding through the rainforest, along with some new flowy singletracks. The old man darn near wore us out, and we were also caught in a downpour a ways out from the car. I forget sometimes that a 20% chance of rain up there means a good chance 20% of the day will be rainy...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEd2VoN-ebQsqiijCgd734pWhuvqjTb6svHsLLOGHMZDP7-JhMIXFWiCy8Youdn5K4sA2E-jXRqRufzZimkI9o6FNAI8jIy0Sa5vFItzEl5vdhS8-B6Y5YEyBC_lTgWdFd7orx_rJGrK-6/s1600/IMG_4187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEd2VoN-ebQsqiijCgd734pWhuvqjTb6svHsLLOGHMZDP7-JhMIXFWiCy8Youdn5K4sA2E-jXRqRufzZimkI9o6FNAI8jIy0Sa5vFItzEl5vdhS8-B6Y5YEyBC_lTgWdFd7orx_rJGrK-6/s1600/IMG_4187.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Shuksan, so close you might as well just climb up it!</td></tr>
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For a change of pace, we ventured up to ski at the legendary Mt. Baker following a decently sized storm. I'm so sorry, Vail Resorts, but this is the only place I can ever call truly "EPIC" for lift access skiing! It was an incredible day with blue skies and crisp cold air, with daytime temps dropping to 10 degrees. The only unfortunate part was the lack of a base that nearly 2 feet of fresh snow fell upon, leaving much of the mountain un-skiable, at least if one valued their limbs. There was still some lovely deep snow accessible in the out of bounds zones so we found some good turns there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4Fk1k5ZLpPYZqnkuWwqFeflK9tPpcgVSLJcdTxRcik5AUNiMVxhdWGKaOf4APJ-ku-v1xo_WBUpWtHj0CtJg7FNygOOi72feHg7jS2L4x21abte0qd9mp3QxXYuIgk3b8hp8T7C-pLE8/s1600/IMG_4191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4Fk1k5ZLpPYZqnkuWwqFeflK9tPpcgVSLJcdTxRcik5AUNiMVxhdWGKaOf4APJ-ku-v1xo_WBUpWtHj0CtJg7FNygOOi72feHg7jS2L4x21abte0qd9mp3QxXYuIgk3b8hp8T7C-pLE8/s1600/IMG_4191.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit performs a somersaulting snow sample. It was good, and deep.</td></tr>
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The brilliant powder day was followed up by a day of playing in the mud on dirt bikes in the deep woods of Tahuya State Forest. My friend Jason had extra bikes for us to ride, and he guided us through the winding trails for several hours of motorized excitement over slippery roots galore. We had all our warm layers on, and my feet got so wet from riding through the puddles that my toes started freezing, but it was hard to call it a day and stop riding on such great trails. We'll have to come back for more of that too!<br />
A chilly morning bike ride at Port Gamble the next day and then we were crossing the Puget Sound again on the ferry. Kit got all excited to see everything in the daylight, and I couldn't help but feel awed myself on such a spectacular day when all of the mountains were visible from Rainier to Baker in the Cascades to the east and also the Olympic range fully on display to the west. It truly is a beautiful place! Unfortunately, none of our photos did it any justice whatsoever.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Baker off there in the distance.</td></tr>
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We caught the evening alpenglow driving over Stevens Pass on the way to Cashmere on New Years eve, pondering for just a second maybe stopping to night ski. I have not ridden lifts at Stevens in over 10 years! A little worn out from riding bikes that morning and our other non-stop adventures, we decided to keep moving and get to Kit's cousin's house at a reasonable hour. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pork Chop hides from the loud bang of fireworks in the bath tub (and perhaps the kids too). Kids think this is really funny and follow him in!</td></tr>
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Following a pizza dinner (Kit's dream come true-pizza three nights in a row) they brought us down to a small bar in an old fruit packing warehouse to send out the old year with a group of friends. We met some fellow climbers and talked one guy into showing us around Vantage the next day, a somewhat nearby climbing area that would be out of the snow if not slightly warmer. That whole crew left early to put their herds of kiddos to bed, and we figured we should stick around for at least another beer and experience the local "scene." The incredibly welcoming bartender immediately offered to buy us beers if we would hang out for the music--an amazing guitar player, he said. This could be interesting, we figured, so we settled in at a table. The tunes that followed were a collection of overplayed late '90s and early 2000's radio songs. Oh well...we proceeded to try and ignore it while having an incredibly deep conversation about jobs, graduate school, leaving Tahoe, and all of those scary emotional things that come out sometimes after a few drinks. Move to Cashmere? Definitely not for the live music. Aside from that, however, it was pretty neat: quiet, close to the Cascades, full of old history and an economy that seems to rely more on fruit growing than tourism.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching the climbs from on top of the cliffs.</td></tr>
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On January 1, 2015 we woke up not too hung over, ate leftover pizza for breakfast, and went to pick up our climbing guide for the day. The drive to Vantage was about an hour, located right by the world famous Gorge Amphitheater. My first impression: eerily similar to Indian Creek, Utah, only with rippled volcanic columns instead of sandstone cliffs. It was not as warm as we hoped, but at least we were climbing and seeing new sights! The first climb that we did was a supposedly easy but rather awkward sport climb with one side in the sun and one side in the shade, made even more awkward by having a frozen right hand and trying to avoid using those holds on the shaded side. Not terribly impressed, we chose another climb ascending twin cracks on either sides of a column with a fairly easy rating. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5.8 twin cracks in the corner right above Kit's head. A classic!</td></tr>
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The shadows moved quickly with the northern latitudes and short days of winter and I found myself charging upward as fast as possible to catch the last bit of sun on the right side of the climb. Starkly contrasting the first climb, this one was a classic. Abundant hand and foot jams made for crack climbing at its very best, times 2 for the double cracks. 10 degrees warmer and this would be a perfect winter climbing spot! We will be back to this one someday, for sure. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lichen Bikes on a road trip! Riding at Syncline near Hood River. </td></tr>
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Moving south the next day to Oregon with Bend as our destination, we stopped just outside White Salmon in southern WA for a short scenic mountain bike ride above the Columbia River in an area called Syncline. It was quite cold, muddy, and we had a very vague idea of where we were going. We pedaled up for a while, got a bit lost, and went back down the hill to a trail that looked like fun. Kit took some photos of me and the new bike and then we got back on the road toward Bend.<br />
Unfortunately there was no time to cram in any more adventures on the way home; we maxed out our time away and I had to be back to coach kids at Heavenly on Sunday. We still had a good time catching up with our friends in Bend for a night, staying in their cozy little house and walking to the river with the dogs before getting in the car for the final push back to Tahoe.<br />
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I almost forgot to mention that my hip is feeling much better and just about back to normal now. This trip really put it to the test, with so many different activities all crammed together plus a lot of time sitting in the car. It feels so incredible to get out and do whatever I feel like doing without worrying about it! Thanks again to <a href="http://greatbasinpt.com/">Great Basin Physical Therapy</a> and <a href="http://elevatedtahoe.com/">Elevated Fitness</a> for helping put me back together!</div>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-52107298910783709632014-12-09T17:41:00.001-08:002015-06-01T11:37:38.233-07:00Camping, climbing, and a real dirt bike adventure! After months of working, being injured, and more recently turning my brain inside out with that horrendous income tax class (yes, I admit that was a terrible idea) Kit and I finally made our escape to find some fun over Thanksgiving. Original plans were to go south to Joshua Tree and/or Bootleg Canyon near Las Vegas for climbing and mountain biking, but I still lacked a bike and Kit had to work through Wednesday so we figured it made more sense to stay closer to home and venture only a few hours south on the eastern Sierra. Being able to do anything at all gives me a whole lot to be thankful for, seeing as how a year ago I was mainly horizontal, barely able to get around the house, bored as heck and completely depressed.<br />
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We decided to pack climbing gear and dirt bikes, as I'm beginning to turn into a real moto addict but not quite going to give up on climbing yet. However, the CRF 230 I was supposed to be riding now needed a new clutch, which was almost done but for one last part that we didn't know needed replacing until it was all taken apart 3 days before we left. The little 125 had not sold yet so we loaded it into the trailer, only then noticing that the front tire was flat--at 5:30 on Wednesday evening the day before Thanksgiving--probably impossible to get a new tube at that point and nobody would be open until at least Friday. Oh, the problems those dang machines can have!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from a perfect campsite.</td></tr>
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Oh well. Off to Bridgeport for a hot spring soak and some sleep, and we can try to at least patch the tube in the morning. Thanksgiving morning was beautiful and relatively warm at the higher elevation of Bridgeport so instead of going straight to Bishop we went southeast toward Benton and one of our favorite spots to climb and camp. Nobody else was there, of course, and we scored a spectacular camping spot among some boulders with a view of the nearby crags and the mountains off in the distance. After unpacking we set about removing the inner tube from my bike to see if it was repairable; it turned out to be a torn valve stem, not good. We still tried to fix it and may perhaps have succeeded if not for pinching the tube while re-installing the tire on the rim. At that point I just said forget it--I'll ride on the flat tire so we can go exploring a little bit. Might as well go for a short ride to work up an appetite before digging into the Moroccan lamb and root vegetable stew I prepared the previous afternoon for our Thanksgiving feast. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boundary Peak at the northern end of the White Mountains.</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: left;"> I pulled out the map for some ideas and we got on the main dirt road heading south from the crags, looking for a road that crossed over into the valley. A few dead ends and one giant mine hole in the ground later we followed a faint double track going in the right direction until it dropped steeply into a loose rocky gully. I contemplated the steep pitch and my flat front tire, wondering if my little bike would make it back out, but as Kit disappeared down the trail I dove in figuring that we'd get out of there one way or another. After the gully the trail crossed onto a ridge with a stunning view of the White Mountains and wound down toward the valley, where I stopped to take some photos and wait for Kit to come back up the hill a few minutes later.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"> It seemed like a good idea to turn around at this point and make sure we still had light to get back to camp. Getting my bike up the gully was not much of an issue, though it was quite squirrelly in the loose dirt and rocks and took a bit of effort to point the right direction. We didn't get to see where that trail ended up this time, but it will be waiting for next time we make it down there. </span></div>
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Friday morning we decided to go climbing despite forgetting to pack the guidebook for the area. There was one particular south facing wall (the Lost Piton Rock) that I remembered with a handful of fun bolted sport routes, including some very long ones, only a short ride up the road plus a five minute hike. We packed up and got on the dirt bikes to zip up the road; those are a novel climbing approach tool and I'm a big fan! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit warming up on the 10a</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzjxLMc_RzMFHA_gPlKScbQboXGn4fRlBTdf7XePeACIkulK4Ha1AYoBSHIK0gz6bS1NFJQI_VdJUaEg2zUHhbjjXfKasDa0OSt_3fIkKLNY3lmuHsyZJhG3x_RfosJDaAqtNaEq2p_Q6/s1600/IMG_4128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzjxLMc_RzMFHA_gPlKScbQboXGn4fRlBTdf7XePeACIkulK4Ha1AYoBSHIK0gz6bS1NFJQI_VdJUaEg2zUHhbjjXfKasDa0OSt_3fIkKLNY3lmuHsyZJhG3x_RfosJDaAqtNaEq2p_Q6/s1600/IMG_4128.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me battling the roof on the 10b - toprope hero!</td></tr>
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The climbing was just as fun and interesting as I remembered: decent quality granite with a variety of thin face moves, a crack section, giant plates, a couple of small roofs. I decided to tell my hip that I wasn't going to baby it this time, so high stepping and any other weird yoga moves that were required would all be done unless there was major pain. There was no pain and I was able to get up every climb without falling or hanging. It was great having the whole crag to ourselves as well; the climbing at Owens River Gorge is excellent, but it starts feeling like a gym at times with all the people around, having to choose climbs according to the fewest number waiting in line. It was refreshing to have such a positive experience and that really motivated both of us to try to get back on the rock more often.</div>
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We climbed until my fingers were raw and toes hurt from squishing into tiny shoes, and then packed up camp to go in search of a motorcycle shop in Mammoth Lakes for a new inner tube and some ideas about fun places to ride. It was Friday on a holiday weekend so we were fortunate to find a place open that could help. It turns out that Bishop has the best riding in the area so that's where we ended up; camping at the windy hole in the ground Pit campground with some climbing friends from north Lake Tahoe. They tried to talk us into climbing on Saturday as Kit changed out the tube on my bike, but we were too excited to see some new trails, and not so into dealing with holiday weekend hordes of people at the Gorge. The wind was also picking up quite a bit blowing away tents, dishes, clothing, and whatever else wasn't tied down. </div>
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Looking at the map and remembering some of the shop employee's comments we drove to the base of the Silver Canyon road to begin, thinking it might be a scenic if not somewhat mellow ride up. As we unloaded and got ready a handful of unmodified SUVs and trucks passed and went up the canyon, and I began to think we might get terribly bored riding up that way. Inspecting the map again it seemed like we could ride south to the Black Canyon road or the Poleta OHV area and up from there to make somewhat of a loop coming back down Silver Canyon at the end. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAhh7kEaYAGXxDwUsXY2QaaTHXQ8t6Uz4nkd-20cxtjNd1h81lUpQ83aOGMrc6WAnsBL4UXUQSN880FKrp3s1HkJ7JTDk_RJND72_wyjnUbYssELiPxUyyyKXaeUk19JFSX0xtBR_S6Ri/s1600/IMG_4137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAhh7kEaYAGXxDwUsXY2QaaTHXQ8t6Uz4nkd-20cxtjNd1h81lUpQ83aOGMrc6WAnsBL4UXUQSN880FKrp3s1HkJ7JTDk_RJND72_wyjnUbYssELiPxUyyyKXaeUk19JFSX0xtBR_S6Ri/s1600/IMG_4137.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere around 3000 ft above the Owens Valley.</td></tr>
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We didn't quite make it to Black Canyon, getting slightly mixed up on dirt roads and ending up on some double track trails in the OHV area. From there we randomly chose a jeep road that started rather steeply uphill, posing some challenges for my bike but nothing impossible when wide open in first gear. Weeeeee!!! Sometimes the deep dust made it feel like I was on a swing bike, with front and back wheels pointing all different ways. Kit flew up the trail and I stubbornly putted along behind until we reached a mine burrowed into the hillside at the end of the road. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The un-named mine up Poleta/Russell Canyon.</td></tr>
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We stopped for a photo and then wandered around for a minute, following some dirt bike tracks to a little trail that continued winding uphill from the mine. It looked way too intriguing to pass up so we started up it. It got a little bit technical right away and Kit asked if I wanted to keep going. My mountain bike self said sure why not, it looks totally do-able... Kit continued on and I followed, not having much trouble riding but holy moly it was exposed!! I have gotten into my fair share of sketchy situations in the past between bikes and climbing in the mountains, so I'm not easily scared, but all of those are under human power. Adding an engine into the mix makes things seem slightly more likely to go out of control. There I was, the newbie dirt bike rider trying to keep steady on a trail barely wider than my handlebars, steep hillsides above and below covered in jumbles of sharp rocks, terrified that one wrong move with the throttle or steering would tumble me down the hill with the heavy machine and--at best--into the emergency room.<br />
Luckily there were only a couple more slightly technical spots that I could crawl through with my feet out, and there were no steep loose hill climbs to get sideways on. Kit stopped again before the trail wrapped around the end of the canyon and asked if I was still doing all right. At that point probably about 10 minutes in there was no way in heck I wanted to turn around and go back down that! Onward! Besides it appeared as though the trail widened a little bit after crossing the canyon...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMh_n5oO1B1TQQm0xtcJQmkNRj2eKM1URXTQEqWEfwZEr6B5mbnG2075yuNINfvVW8fyOsxl3tDNPhIRHzAUWmOw9fzPifSsxhFqXAm07r40T6wzMiBOF6lwYIMJHPXz33tPxtADf1YHD/s1600/IMG_4141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMh_n5oO1B1TQQm0xtcJQmkNRj2eKM1URXTQEqWEfwZEr6B5mbnG2075yuNINfvVW8fyOsxl3tDNPhIRHzAUWmOw9fzPifSsxhFqXAm07r40T6wzMiBOF6lwYIMJHPXz33tPxtADf1YHD/s1600/IMG_4141.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally at the top of the sketchy trail!</td></tr>
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Oops--not really. The trail got even narrower and more terrifying for the next few minutes. My right foot peg dragged in the dirt on the uphill side in some places as I tried to remind myself to take a breath now and then and to keep looking ONLY at where I wanted to go and NOT at the nearly sheer dropoff just below me with pointy rocks all over. If I was ever going to have a heart attack that would have been the place for sure, as I thought it might jump out of my chest for the entire 20 minutes or so that it took me to ride the scary part. Then to my relief the trail turned up a ridge and got steeper, but thankfully much wider. I reached the top of the climb and parked my bike, laying on the ground for a while until I could breathe normally again and chow an apple. It's been a long time since I have put myself in such a precarious situation, with the intense focus required for success, and it sure felt good to have made it through in one piece! By now I had a good idea of where we were on the map, and that we would not need to go back down that trail if we continued upward. Later internet research calls this singletrack the "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWJdTXLHJZA">woodcutter's trail</a>" and I'm glad to not be the only one who found it quite intimidating.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHGIUChG33Od9D8Xas5zp06SkF5Y18mmB1cXn9nAaRoSBDUrfaO_rss0VpNEOdp8Q9Jr-Ivi-s3nLdZJyiU6Ya_HQjxfRg7ZGhwdFdFnqJlpemyhJ8LfswHryBZsGqdueV4_HpYuxUlwJ5/s1600/IMG_4143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHGIUChG33Od9D8Xas5zp06SkF5Y18mmB1cXn9nAaRoSBDUrfaO_rss0VpNEOdp8Q9Jr-Ivi-s3nLdZJyiU6Ya_HQjxfRg7ZGhwdFdFnqJlpemyhJ8LfswHryBZsGqdueV4_HpYuxUlwJ5/s1600/IMG_4143.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch break surroundings.</td></tr>
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I heard Kit coming back from exploring up the trail, and he had great news when he got to me: it got super fun up ahead, probably the best trail he's ridden. Hooray! I finished my snack and followed after him, weaving among bristlecone pines and colorful rocks lining the small canyon as the trail swooped back and forth. I grinned until my face hurt. We finally stopped for a break to scarf down some sandwiches partway up among the windswept trees, but couldn't wait to continue and see what else lay ahead. Most of it was mellow and uneventful; however we did upon a massive rock waterfall section about 30 feet long and quite steep, and this proved very entertaining to get Kit's bike to the top. On the first try his bike wheelied back and then tumbled all the way back to the bottom from the middle step (definitely the crux), and the second time he managed to send it uphill to the next step, which was then a little bit easier to get over to the top. My bike refused to go up at first but being a lot smaller we wrestled it partway up and Kit rode it the rest of the way--no wheelies for me.<br />
By then we wondered what else was in store on this trail, because it had not been bad at all until this particular part. We decided to continue on anyway since there was lots of daylight left and more trail to explore. It was fast and fun from there and a little ways past the waterfall another rider caught up with us; a local from Bishop who was incredibly surprised to see anybody else on the trail, and especially a girl on a TTR 125. I guess not many make it so far up there, and most folks riding those trails are on bigger bikes that climb the hills better. He was really friendly and offered some suggestions as to where we should go at the top, discouraging our initial plan to ride down Silver Canyon since it was a long boring ride on roads. He recommended either going back down another trail splitting off the one we came up or the Black Canyon road as a better loop alternative.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuYYIEwTuSycgmbvw-aI7I-lUJfpNOkytRCFb5tz0uQ5f8cD9-hKF3eGAuGMPQpELUV9uIeM8kM0Htvj-cSlAG471DXhL6ygV0ph-TrfZ4VJJpbwOrzVqnu1i72WYKuF-7oqTHSEvNKH9/s1600/IMG_4147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuYYIEwTuSycgmbvw-aI7I-lUJfpNOkytRCFb5tz0uQ5f8cD9-hKF3eGAuGMPQpELUV9uIeM8kM0Htvj-cSlAG471DXhL6ygV0ph-TrfZ4VJJpbwOrzVqnu1i72WYKuF-7oqTHSEvNKH9/s1600/IMG_4147.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old mines are everywhere in these mountains! Thanks to them we have many of these neat trails to ride...</td></tr>
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I was thoroughly worn out at this point and ready for a quick descent with no exposure to speak of, so I voted we take the Black Canyon jeep road down. Our new friend led us through the few intersections before the canyon began, at which point he split off to ride another singletrack loop before rejoining the road. The scenery was incredible as we wound into the heart of the canyon, flying below volcanic cliffs of all shades of black and brown and through groves of trees still covered in bright yellow leaves. Though not very steep or difficult, the road was covered in rocks and rattling me around like crazy, reminding me that I may be a little on the heavy side for that bike. It kind of felt like I was on my hardtail instead of a motorcycle with 12" of travel because I was having to pick my lines to avoid major bumps and going faster only made it harder to hold on.<br />
From the bottom of the canyon we successfully navigated the dirt roads back to the truck without getting lost, although it was a very windy ride. Cold beers were in order with some tailgate chill time to absorb the day's adventure and unwind my rattled skeleton and mind. The wind was relatively calm at the bottom of Silver Canyon as we hung out and packed up, but as we pulled out into the open valley it was blowing dust clouds and tumbleweeds all over.<br />
First we went to the store in Bishop to grab a couple of extra dinner ingredients, then back up to the Pit to cook. Up at camp the wind was gusting so horribly that neither of us really wanted to get out of the truck to start making food... yeah, a couple of wimps we are! Definitely missing the shelter of having a van to cook and hang out in. After a few minutes of indecision we went back into town to cook dinner in the grocery store parking lot, where the wind had slightly less force and not so much sand to blow around. As we cooked on the tailgate a car pulled up with a couple of friends inside hollering at us whom we never expected to run into in Bishop. They were coming back from a road trip farther south to Death Valley and were heading for June Lake to spend the night at a friend's house, which sounded like a much better plan to us than trying to sleep unobtrusively in town or being blown around at the dusty Pit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsVubQGk3-VTY35jeQvDDmok_87ffbUT6tzpjuRKkwcKHdn1jyVLl-oFvtk5LgMM0vQwLl5dZi-ssWPM813Ci3R4_dqxgP1cabclPIGJpAk6cPQnM6FapSUmxnZy4GJmmXflyDgyFqgaV/s1600/IMG_4150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsVubQGk3-VTY35jeQvDDmok_87ffbUT6tzpjuRKkwcKHdn1jyVLl-oFvtk5LgMM0vQwLl5dZi-ssWPM813Ci3R4_dqxgP1cabclPIGJpAk6cPQnM6FapSUmxnZy4GJmmXflyDgyFqgaV/s1600/IMG_4150.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow coming in over June Lake</td></tr>
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We followed them up to June Lake and figured the plan for Sunday would be determined by the weather. When we woke up to blue skies and a moderate cold wind it sounded like a short exploration of the local trails was in order before leaving for home. The Obsidian Dome, a nearby geological feature, looked to have a small network of jeep roads and a few ATV trails we could string together into a fun loop ride. All bundled up with warm gloves, a few small snowflakes drifted in the air as we rode toward the June Lake overlook on a whooped-out road. Very much like a pump track to ride, I was having no trouble staying warm with the workout of trying to keep Kit's dust in sight. The deep volcanic duff was interesting and a bit tricky to ride in, sometimes sending me a little sideways off a roller and making it really hard for my bike to climb anything steep. Even though I still couldn't keep up, and none of the trails were too technical, they still had good flow and we had a blast cruising around. A bonus was getting to see a giant mound of obsidian up close, and not just tiny chunks scattered on the ground. It's neat stuff!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJs0weXAycFBiAfJr6QeJ44weo5ebQsJLhF747rwkt-XDph51L_8wBrWpFOMEj7JEfeNYZ3bsgYyWDrAUo-DxALIaP0EXG8H_6GxULMaNj8UidWZYtCL_8BsFuLfxFjemWvSoUxyLWYVo/s1600/photo+(6).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJs0weXAycFBiAfJr6QeJ44weo5ebQsJLhF747rwkt-XDph51L_8wBrWpFOMEj7JEfeNYZ3bsgYyWDrAUo-DxALIaP0EXG8H_6GxULMaNj8UidWZYtCL_8BsFuLfxFjemWvSoUxyLWYVo/s1600/photo+(6).JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obsidian Dome tourist.</td></tr>
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We jam-packed enough fun into the last few days to go home before it got too dark and snowy. After this trip I feel a whole lot more confident with my dirt biking skills, and really can't wait to get the dang CRF 230 fixed so I can finally ride a bigger bike. I won't be hanging up the mountain bike any time soon but it sure is great to cover a lot of ground exploring and not be completely wrecked for days after. And it's undeniable how much fun it is! Learning new skills, tackling new challenges, and seeing new places--it's hard to wipe the perma-grin off my face after a weekend like that!</div>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-20059279547935940772014-09-28T12:44:00.002-07:002014-10-20T09:21:58.209-07:00There went another summer...looking ahead to next year. Fall is here bringing rain and the best riding conditions. Despite that I can't help but feel awfully jaded by the past 2 years, logging far more couch time than saddle time, and twice getting crushed by another injury just when the previous one has healed. I think I've learned a lot and really hope I can actually apply it to become better at dealing with these setbacks--and avoiding them in the first place. I've also acquired a handful of other hobbies that are good for days off the bike and may make it more motivating to have more rest days. Gardening, fishing, and canoeing have helped me hang onto the last few shreds of sanity that were trying to escape this summer and provide endless opportunities for learning; especially so for fishing and gardening.<br />
Currently the canoe is all dismantled for some repairs and a complete refinishing. It's a really nice fiberglass canoe that needed to be returned to its former glory, with dry splintered trim and holes in the seats, and a hideous light green spray paint job. I tried an epoxy/carbon fiber patch on some holes in the front and back and they turned out really well, but it's been sitting for a while and now that summer work has finished I'm working on motivating to sand it all out for painting. The seats need re-webbing, and all of the wood bits need a going over with fine sandpaper and several coats of marine poly finish to complete the project.<br />
My garden was fairly good but not quite as successful as I hoped it would be with all the work that went into it. The pepper plants took forever to start producing, and some tomato plants never even bore fruit. The tomatoes I was able to get were very tasty but it seems like a big challenge to get more production with the incredibly short season. Snap peas got eaten by rabbits, the green beans were very small, and runner beans never even got beans on them, but I had some very happy kale and chard plants when they weren't getting eaten by the chickens. My winter project is going to be mixing up some good rocket power compost for next year in hopes that might help things along. A hoop house or some other insulating structure is also imperative to stretch the growing season out here in Meyers where I think the nights above 30 degrees only lasted for a month or 2 in the summer. My big hoop house got blown away nearly every time it got windy here and I had to convert it to 3 smaller structures as a last resort to keep things happy. Perhaps a green house next year if we can collect some more old windows. Abundant sun might make a passive solar heat system possible to keep warmth circulating around the plants through the cold nights.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHLnfRnlq1MUO5KEBvfOyuMWbel0AuM1zKFP0VIkqQfzEJOD2lOZ7TIxMEk2lb1xmwM15Sky9kJJ7flzonKrybse_vgYY9Ex1lZOxxuJRNU2XMVi23tKEFWHqt9IZRXf2cH5v28YIfpvE/s1600/IMG_4034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHLnfRnlq1MUO5KEBvfOyuMWbel0AuM1zKFP0VIkqQfzEJOD2lOZ7TIxMEk2lb1xmwM15Sky9kJJ7flzonKrybse_vgYY9Ex1lZOxxuJRNU2XMVi23tKEFWHqt9IZRXf2cH5v28YIfpvE/s1600/IMG_4034.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peppers and tiny green beans. They only got to 3" long and stopped growing.</td></tr>
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Things have gone amazingly well with physical therapy; I'm still incredulous that I spent all summer being dumb before finally going to see this therapist who has pretty dang near fixed me already! I have been able to pedal for 5 to nearly 10 miles with just a bit of stiffness and have luckily enjoyed a few good "brown pow" days in the last few weeks with some rain to make the trails nice. Corral Trail in my backyard is quite a hoot but I'm hoping I work up to riding a few other trails before snow buries it all. I also did 2 days in a row on the moto last weekend and was a little bit sore after but nothing too unbearable. Motos are fun on a whole different level and yet another challenge I'm happy to tackle. Additionally, it feels like a good trip to the gym for the legs and upper body but is a heck of a lot more fun. A mountain bike feels so small and light after muscling around one of those heavy beasts--the 125 is already feeling a little bit underpowered too, wait till I get on the 230 that Kit is working on right now. Eek!<br />
It gives me a little more hope that things are going to return to normal soon. My therapist told me to basically go do things as I would normally and call him in a couple of weeks. If it hurts again I'll go back in and get worked on some more, but things are definitely progressing incredibly well. He thinks that all the pain was from the muscles at the front of the hip being all wound up in an angry tight ball from being overworked, compensating for weak butt muscles. How did I get those? Oh, maybe a miserable winter spent on the couch, perhaps... more reason to get back on the telemark gear this winter and build them back up! Before then I have to stay diligent with my stretches and exercises and work back into normal behavior.<br />
I'm still hoping that there was no irreversible damage done to the hip joint and that I will be able to go back to life as usual but the MRI will tell a lot about how the joint is looking and if there is any arthritis developing (ugh...don't want to think about that!) The MRI is now scheduled for October 24th thanks to getting a cold right before the first appointment I finally succeeded in making a few weeks ago.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cucumber!</td></tr>
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Getting excited for next season already, I hope to pick up my new ride from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lichenbikes/timeline">Lichen Bikes</a> up in Washington in the next month or so during my annual pilgrimage homeward. I have plenty of fun cruising around on the 'cross bike here in the meadows, but I've taken every opportunity for snagging Kit's Yeti for a spin on Corral to smash through rocks and hit the jumps. In the apparel department it sounds like <a href="http://vanderkitten.com/">Vanderkitten</a> has come up with some ideas to expand their MTB presence; though details have yet to be confirmed, there may be some ski-bike multi sport video fun involved with that. In addition I'm still planning to complete some kind of instructor certification so that I can coach and lead rides throughout the year. With some successful fundraising in this past year all I've got to do now is get healthy enough to sign up for the training and then find a good one to attend!<br />
I'm trying my hardest to get back on the horse without getting bucked off again; let's hope this time I finally have more success!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PJxqgtbam24iM_LD8V9UsXTiZGvNUONowPDoE3Xgx48H_QaiXIneEN4kfFLUo6mYWMHucZw7SU-XRkm1_8v6X3aTwKfHX14T8dY36ZlWrK1d5N85J2GvZ5kBTpmSKmRUgHLxYPduX2FL/s1600/IMG_4023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PJxqgtbam24iM_LD8V9UsXTiZGvNUONowPDoE3Xgx48H_QaiXIneEN4kfFLUo6mYWMHucZw7SU-XRkm1_8v6X3aTwKfHX14T8dY36ZlWrK1d5N85J2GvZ5kBTpmSKmRUgHLxYPduX2FL/s1600/IMG_4023.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A calm evening on the river.</td></tr>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-68091699142804986182014-09-10T19:28:00.002-07:002015-01-14T22:33:39.087-08:00Plugging away Half of me wants to re-name this blog something like "the misadventures of an ex mountain bike racer" but that seems awfully pessimistic. The fact that I'm going on two seasons of not racing is definitely getting to me and though I try my best to stay involved with events, every now and then I get really frustrated and just want to disappear without a trace. Don't worry, I wouldn't actually do that--there are too many good people to miss seeing again!<br />
Almost 2 months after my doctor visit I still have made no progress with scheduling an MRI under the new insurance, yet they kept bugging me about making an appointment for a yearly checkup...can we take care of the more pressing issues first, please? Apparently not!<br />
Progress with physical therapy stalled out with continued inflammation making it hard to add any more strengthening exercises. I decided to try another PT, Ashwin at Great Basin Physical Therapy, on the strong recommendation of a friend. Although it's a 40 minute drive off the mountain it seems like a worthwhile choice because he was able to make a lot of progress. After only 3 visits I've been able to go up stairs pain-free and without using the gimp walk, pedal a bike around the block a few times, and walk around normally and for a longer distance. This actually motivated me to get up an hour earlier to fit in all of my stretches and exercises before work so I can do something fun in the afternoon. Getting out of bed before it's absolutely necessary in the morning is not exactly my strongest suit, so this is really a good thing!<br />
On the more fun side, Kit got tired of me moping around the house every time it has rained this summer so he found me a dirt bike: a little Yamaha TTR 125 "clown bike" since it is quite small and feels funny to stand up on. But it's absolutely loads of fun (I'm convinced I shouldn't be enjoying myself so much), and I'm perfectly happy with it right now. Even better is that I haven't had any major hip pain following the few days I've gone riding, despite a little bit of hiking now and then going up anything that's a little over my head. The whole throttle control concept is still evasive, and though some mountain bike skills transfer over it's really a whole different beast. Trying to roll through a rocky downhill section that I wouldn't blink at on a mountain bike put me on the ground in a pile twice within 3 feet; those tiny wheels like to stuff themselves into holes, and compounded by the usual rear brake being the front you've got a winning combination for confusion. Getting good at that kind of thing is probably best left for after I'm healed, but for right now, I'm quite content to rip around on jeep roads to explore and see the sights.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYtqRHyi0IMbkBUukA_8bESdMsurSLZiLsrxOtoprFlcx97jNVJCJ9PRUnF4ZXAc2snDbYRvheYFgSLORZsmoY1uD7BFss7AiNEV6jjD5Ge3WFEXRNuXyHM5oXib7wucvubIe4m0N9GT4/s1600/IMG_2429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYtqRHyi0IMbkBUukA_8bESdMsurSLZiLsrxOtoprFlcx97jNVJCJ9PRUnF4ZXAc2snDbYRvheYFgSLORZsmoY1uD7BFss7AiNEV6jjD5Ge3WFEXRNuXyHM5oXib7wucvubIe4m0N9GT4/s1600/IMG_2429.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, I am wearing mountaineering boots.</td></tr>
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Going fast on two wheels again and getting a little drifty in some corners puts that big silly grin back on my face where it belongs. I feel a little bit guilty for hopping on the motor-head bandwagon after being such a human powered advocate, but Kit won't have anything to do with stand-up paddle boarding, and riding motos is something we can do together and with our friends and hopefully keep me relatively sane. I sure hope that I'll be able to ski this winter, but if not there is plenty of desert to explore out there in Nevada.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And a spiffy Loeka jersey!</td></tr>
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Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-34981158650261511262014-07-19T13:58:00.002-07:002014-07-19T14:36:41.727-07:00Fishing around for the meaning of life. Pardon the bad pun--why yes, I have indeed been fishing, both within my mind to find the meaning in my bike-less existence, and in the outdoors trying to catch a fish or 2. I attended a women's fly fishing clinic put on by SheJumps, which was a really fun and educational experience that got me hooked and let me use my dad's nice backpacking fly rod for its intended purpose.<br />
So I found that fly fishing is really neat! I didn't manage to catch anything in the private lake up at Northstar, but got to hang out with some fun people and learned the basics so that I can get out there on my own. It's another complicated thing to do and the gear can be expensive, but I think I can work around that because it might be a good low impact activity for the next few months and beyond.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning to fly fish with SheJumps.</td></tr>
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Over the 4th of July weekend Kit and I took a canoe camping trip to Faucherie Lake, northwest of Truckee and a few hours up some really bumpy dirt roads, to escape the tourist mayhem in Tahoe. It seemed like an ideal combination of hip-friendly activities including paddling, swimming, fishing, and hammock lounging.<br />
Being able to paddle to a campsite at the far end of the fairly remote lake was another big bonus, as it allowed us to further evade the masses and have more of a "wilderness" experience. Our quiet little cove only saw a few kayakers throughout the whole 3-day weekend and muffled most of the noise from the campground partiers though it was only a 15 minute paddle from the truck.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Porky fetching sticks in our little cove.</td></tr>
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The only unfortunate part: we didn't catch a single fish, though we tried for hours both from shore and in the canoe. The lake's temperature was just right for swimming and the campsite had perfectly spaced trees to hang a hammock, so I made sure to take regular dips in the water to cool off and snooze a bit every day.<br />
Pork Chop spent the weekend mostly sleeping along with some swimming after sticks and a little bit of exploration around camp. It was a refreshing, relaxing time for all of us and a really neat experience overall. I'm totally sold on canoe camping as an easy way to get out on lakes and see neat things. I'd like to circumnavigate Lake Tahoe this fall after most of the boating crowds have gone, and find some other lakes to explore between now and then. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, the sunsets!</td></tr>
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The hip has been feeling intermittently more sore lately, especially after I do dumb things like walk 100 yards in knee deep water to get to where I can swim in the lake--that was a really good idea. After that incident I finally caved in and saw an orthopedic who is sending me in for MRI to look at cartilage in about a week. He is suspicious that it's a torn labrum after looking at an x-ray and the shape of the head of the femur. So the plot thickens.<br />
I'm feeling really apprehensive because it will be nice to know what's going on in there but at the same time it will open up a huge can of worms if it looks like something that could use surgery and I have to decide what to do about it....yuckkkkk! I have one friend who has had the surgery and it didn't work out as planned, and my cousin is currently rehabbing her hip and trying to avoid surgery. Anyhow, that's way too much speculating before I actually know what my problem is. </div>
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I was going to try and ride the moped over to go fishing this afternoon in the river near the house but thunder is rolling and it looks like rain. Good for the garden, but I don't really want to be caught in a torrential downpour like the one I drove through on the way home from work yesterday. Better to sit on the front porch and watch the show! </div>
Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-62008237545709176052014-06-17T14:12:00.001-07:002014-07-13T10:07:04.497-07:00Yet another exercise in patience.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Obviously I would much rather be riding bikes on my day off, but I'm being forced to take it easy again, so I'm blundering around in computer land trying to fix up the blog a little bit and attempt to update social media. I was celebrating having been injury-free for over 6 months, enjoying time on the mountain bike, and finding my way around a new job and town. And then, BAM! I hurt myself again. Thankfully my brain isn't the victim this time, but my left hip; a</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> deep aching in the front around the iliopsoas muscle which eerily brought flashbacks of the same feeling from 7 years ago at almost exactly the same time in May. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One of those insidious overuse injuries from too much riding too soon without letting my body adjust gradually, and now I've gone and done the same thing all over again. You'd think I would have learned!</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I can't help but imagine that work had a little to do with this psoas malfunction, however; since my first choice of summer work with El Dorado Vector Control didn't pan out I scrambled to find something else besides a kayak shop job. I wound up as the "water educator" for South Tahoe Public Utility District, which I found out required an awful lot of driving through neighborhoods. Scratch that--I'm going to ride my bike, I thought. Great idea until I realized I was riding 20-25 miles in a day. And then sometimes going for mountain bike rides after work. I don't think my body really expected that kind of mileage only a couple of months after getting back to normal activities... </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I'm now scrambling to get the moped going that a friend generously donated to my cause, getting a few last minute parts replaced and taking the written test to get my permit for starters. I had no idea until I tried the number of hoops one has to jump through in this state to legally ride basically a bicycle with a 49cc motor...but of course, it's California. The DMV here couldn't even tell me how much it cost and I had dig around on the internet for hours to find the fees, and of course wrote a check for the wrong amount and sent it off! In the meantime my truck is squealing obnoxiously at low speeds and protesting at being put into first gear, and I'm trying my best to avoid the neighborhoods with too many stop signs (don't tell my boss). </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The last time I injured my hip in 2007 I proceeded to completely ignore it and push through the pain for about a month before finally giving up and letting it heal. Somehow I made the best of it and did pull ups, kayaked, eventually went surfing and came out stronger than ever. It took until September to be able to get on a bike, and then was only shuttling downhill trails, but I raced a full season of collegiate DH including nationals that fall. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This time I really hope that acknowledging it immediately and trying to let it rest is going to help it heal slightly quicker, so aside from not riding I'm doing everything I can to try and get back to being functional with a little outside help. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I had the good fortune to meet Crissy, the owner of </span><a href="http://thestudiolaketahoe.com/" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Studio Lake Tahoe</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> down the street from my house in Meyers, just showing up for a yoga class. She is such a kind and generous soul in addition to being a highly educated yoga and Pilates instructor and brilliant body "engineer." Jessica is a physical therapist starting to build her own practice at The Studio (</span><a href="http://meyersphysicaltherapy.com/" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">meyersphysicaltherapy.com</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">), and she was a participant in the South Lake Tahoe mountain bike clinic that I just coached. Her whole-body approach to healing injuries addresses any underlying imbalances, which are a large part of the problem I'm having. Between both of these amazing women I'm excited for the help to rebuild my body the way it needs to be to handle the stresses of training and racing again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> In addition my teammate Gretchen recommended MLS Laser Therapy to reduce inflammation, so I went out on a limb to try it...and it seems to be working so far. I've become so much more functional after 4 visits and feeling hopeful! </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Though my bike fund is all but gone now, fixing myself once and for all seems like a much better use of money--who needs a bike when they can't even ride? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It will take some discipline to keep from diving back into long rides right away, but when my new hand built frame from Lichen Bikes in Indianola, WA comes in I'll be distracted for a little while with putting it together, and then hopefully be ready for some shuttle laps. In the meantime I'm spending a lot of time puttering around the garden while drinking tea and talking to my plants. I'm really hoping to get out fishing soon with Kit when I have a conducive work schedule; it changes every 3 weeks and currently is about as opposite as we can get. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> In other awesome news, <a href="http://www.vanderkittenracing.com/">Vanderkitten</a> approached me about representing them as an athlete in the Tahoe area, looking for broader exposure on the gravity racing end of the bike industry. Vanderkitten currently supports a very successful road racing team, and their mission of promoting global equality for women athletes in male-dominated sports like cycling is one that I can really get behind. I'm really honored to be chosen for this opportunity and hope that I can help inspire more women to live healthy, active, adventurous lives as well as advance my own athletic career. </span></div>
Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289756794822037330.post-39139887780653552812014-05-14T14:46:00.001-07:002014-05-15T07:50:52.567-07:00Just go with the flow...maybe something cool will happen! In my experience, it's a whole lot easier to deal with things not going according to plan if you haven't started with one to begin with. A great adventure will almost always occur if the right gear and an open mind are brought along. Sometimes, too, it's fun to go climb up something that is not in a guidebook; where we haven't memorized a detailed description of what to expect and there is a little bit of routefinding and an air of mystery about the route.<br />
We left Tahoe on Friday night headed south for the eastern Sierra with only some vague ideas in mind and a pile of skiing and climbing gear in the truck. We were perhaps going to climb and then meet up with friends to camp on Saturday night near Sonora pass, or camp farther south and ski Tioga Pass with another friend on Sunday, or...who knows? After a strong start, our rusty packing skills and lack of mental checklists caused us to turn around after the summit of Luther Pass Hwy 89, when Kit had to confirm his climbing harness was not in fact inside the haul bag. Now we definitely needed to go climbing, just to make that extra trip back to the house worthwhile!<br />
Our first stop was Travertine hot springs in Bridgeport for a soak and low-key camping. The next morning we decided to work toward Granite Basin to climb, a bit southwest of Mono Lake. Passing Virginia Lakes on 395 we spotted the top of an intriguing line on a peak just the next drainage to the south. The speculation began: how can we get there? Is there a road? Should we investigate? The answer is obviously yes to the latter two questions. We had passed the Lundy Lake turnoff countless times on the way to and from the Mammoth/Bishop area, noting the sign and figuring it was just another one of those places where retired folks go to hang out and fish (not that that's a bad thing). Little did we know the amazing ski terrain that lay up that road!<br />
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The couloir visible from Conway Summit was awfully thin and would require a lot of hiking up icky talus slopes, so that wouldn't do for this time. This mountain, later found to be Gilcrest Peak, also held a number of other gullies which had the appearance of forming quite nice couloirs earlier in the season, perhaps accessible without too much hiking from the winter road closure. Driving farther up the road revealed many more incredibly good-looking ski lines begging for exploration, including the one we chose on Mt. Scowden. The closest approach appeared to be blocked by a vast beaver pond, but at last as the road wound to its end, the pond subsided into a creek surrounded by a maze of aspen trees of all sizes, fallen and standing. That we could deal with, unlike splashing through murky knee deep water.<br />
It was about 10 AM by this point, and we sat debating for a few minutes after some initial exploration of the approach. Having missed out on skiing Bloody Couloir only a month ago over concerns about carrying a heavy pack for hours, I hesitated for a few minutes about how wise an idea it was to jump into something like this. Then, the worrywart voice was silenced by the much deprived adventure-craving part of the brain, and I said "Let's do this!" I had felt much stronger over the last few weeks and was beginning to think it was about time to test a few new limits.<br />
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Shouldering our unwieldy packs, we proceeded to clamber over, under, and across a mass of fallen trees at various angles; catching skis and boots on stray branches and near misses on slippery logs. We hit an old mining trail shortly after crossing a short talus field and it led us to a creek at the bottom of the couloir. Skins were applied, and a short while later as terrain steepened I pulled ski crampons out of my pack. We had both bought these after an icy early morning going up Mt. Whitney where only one friend was able to skin while all the rest of us miserably slid around and eventually put on boot crampons and carried our skis, but in the last 3 years I had not found myself in a situation where they were necessary (that means it's time for more ski mountaineering trips). I decided to try and skin as far up the couloir as possible just to see how well they worked, and it was quite amazing--I'll never do another spring trip without them! I stubbornly refused to carry my skis until the very last 200 feet or so which steepened a bit more and contained more rocks to maneuver around. I'll admit it was probably a bit ridiculous making steep kick turns every 10 feet, but I kept pace with Kit as he bootpacked and never felt overly precarious.<br />
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At the top of our main objective we estimated to be about 2/3 of the way up the mountain, and there was still continuous snow above for most of the way to the summit. We debated for a few minutes whether a trip to the summit would be worthwhile; my tired legs said to leave it for next time, as another 1000 vertical feet was not sounding terribly attractive at the moment, and the wind was whipping around the peaks ferociously--I despise windy conditions at high elevations. The snow in the couloir was also getting quite soft and considering our late morning start we didn't want to have any issues with wet slide avalanches.<br />
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The decision was to ski back down what we had climbed up. Snacks consumed and skis on, we stood at the top for a moment before I told Kit to drop in while I take a few photos.<br />
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Watching him confidently make turns down the steep pitch between the rocks I had a minor panic attack. Is this a terrible idea? Though not a "no-fall" line, it might not feel good to crash in the wrong place. This would be my third day on tele gear, refusing to ski it on any resort days in order to be able to make more than 2 runs without exhausted legs. Though I had skied some steeper chutes at Kirkwood several weeks ago, it was on alpine skis, and things look way steeper and more scary on floppy free-heels! Oh well. When all else fails make parallel turns and hope nobody is looking...after this short pep talk I shoved off and carefully picked my way down to Kit, making a million tiny turns and gaining a small amount of confidence.<br />
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I mustered the courage to make tele turns through the middle of the couloir and found a bit of a rhythm. Kit found a very sticky patch of snow and went flying, but fortunately the soft sticky snow also kept him from sliding endlessly downhill on his face. By the bottom I started feeling much more comfortable with dropping a knee and carved some bigger turns out the bottom of the couloir.<br />
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All too soon we were back at the creek, much to the relief of my burning quads. We skied almost to the end of the snow and removed our skis practically in the creek, made the short scramble down to the mining trail, and stayed on the trail all the way back to the parking area: a much easier way than our approach.<br />
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We passed a few ruins from the old mining days, a reminder of the history of the entire eastern Sierra and the beginnings of many of these small communities, and arrived back at the truck around 2 PM. A little overwhelmed with the awesomeness of the last few hours we just sat around in the sun relaxing and letting gear dry out. How could we possibly top that adventure? I have no idea...we sure didn't try. We bailed on plans to ski Tioga Pass on Sunday because of the wind, and spent most of the afternoon driving around nasty rough dirt roads looking for friends supposedly camped by Sonora Pass, whom we later found out were not actually there. We did find a decent campsite for the night but were quite bummed to be a) not with our friends and b) not soaking in hot springs. Oh well. The price we pay for recreating out of cell phone range; sometimes it makes last minute excursions a bit complicated when other parties are involved.<br />
Driving back toward home the next day we had the excellent idea to stop and climb at Woodfords, since it is located right on Hwy 88 on the way home... We had after all brought climbing gear, and remembered Kit's harness. I don't recall what our favorite climb was called but it was likely the best 5.10 crack climb I've done in a very long time, and the bomber hand jams helped both of us completely forget about the previous evening's frustration. It made for a completely rad weekend after all and we both can't wait to go back to Woodfords again and Lundy Lake next spring!Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09975553294447825387noreply@blogger.com0