Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Rolling With The Seasons, and Years

You turn around, Summer has become Fall...and you're turning 50. Which also means over twenty years of living in Driggs & Teton Valley, Idaho. Moving here is still one of the best decisions I've ever made.

Fall, like aging, brings visible change. But it's good...and those colors!

I had some work close to home last month - like within a few hundred yards of my house. I'm not sure which was best: the project, or the Teton scenery? Indian Summer simply rocks.

I've also enjoyed some time with good old Bridger dog. He likes being outside as much as I do.

Meanwhile, our Driggs/Jackson high school mountain bike team (and therefore me, as a coach) attended races all over Idaho the past couple of months, this one just north of Sun Valley. Such a great scene!

I did a couple more races of my own, too. JayP's 60-mile Gravel Pursuit up in Island Park was awesome, and MooseCross CycloCross in Victor was simultaneously intense, short, sweet, painful, and fun.

A combo work/fun trip to Chicago also allowed for some good time with my brother Mark. The lakefront city views are incredible.

And then a highlight of my year: a Cubs playoff game, with great people, against the rival Cardinals...which Chicago won! I expect to see them in the World Series next year.

There was nice Fall weekend backyard camping with Melissa & Romeo, too. Turns out tents are ideally suited for napping.

And of course, fishing. It centers me.

Here's to a few more good seasons & decades...of everything: mountains, water, work, scenery, and love - changing, growing, living.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

From Driggs to Leadville: My LT 100 Mtb Race Experience

The Leadville 100 mountain bike race has been on my bucket list for over a decade. I tried gaining entry via the traditional race lottery for several years, with no luck. So last year I decided to enter the Leadville, Colorado "Silver Rush 50" qualifying race, where doing well enough would earn me a starting spot at the big one. It worked out great - the Silver Rush itself was an awesome event, I got to meet founder Ken Chlouber...and I earned my starting spot at this year's iconic Leadville 100 Mtb race. It finally happened on August 15...11 days before my 50th birthday.

The race is actually 104 miles total, with over 11,000 feet of cumulative climbing on a combination of dirt roads, doubletrack, singletrack, and a bit of pavement. It's an out-and-back format, from downtown Leadville (elevation 10,200 feet), up & over a couple of formidable mountain passes, and then a huge climb up Columbine mountain to the turnaround at mile 52 - which sits at 12,600 feet above sea level and feels like you're riding on top of the world.

I've been pedaling a mountain bike for nearly three decades, and racing for the past ten years or so. I love the adventures that come with it - being out in the woods, the wildlife encounters, fishing access, views, exploration, camaraderie, and fun. I tend to do better in shorter races, but Leadville is arguably the world's most prestigious mountain bike race...and hence it has been on my radar. If you've seen Race Across The Sky, you understand. 

I decided to make it even more challenging by crashing hard on my final training ride before leaving Driggs. My car was literally packed, and I went out for a lunch spin before making the drive to Leadville...and bam, down I went on some loose gravel on a downhill corner. I hadn't crashed in almost 10 years, but I guess it was time - and the result was a huge contusion on my right hip, ankle & elbow. So I broke out the ice, hobbled into the car, hit the road via Rock Springs, Steamboat Springs & Minturn, and tried not to think about the pain or the fact that I could now barely walk. 

Once in Leadville, the scenery and pre-race energy quickly got me focused on the task at hand. My buddy PNut from Tucson met me in town, and provided fantastic race support. He's a professional mountain bike guide & instructor with non-stop energy, which I needed.

At the mandatory pre-race meeting on Friday, professional racer Rebecca Rusch spoke about the importance of defining the "purpose" of your race, because that is what will carry you through the inevitable low points you'll encounter. I decided mine would be a celebration of the sport I love so much: the places it has taken me over the past 25+ years, the people I've shared rides with, the wildlife & sunsets & breathtaking views, the Driggs/Jackson high school mtb team I'm now helping to coach...and the simple, pure joy the sport brings me; a recognition and culmination, in one. Turns out such purpose was indeed needed on race day.

A short pre-ride on Friday helped loosen me up, and gave some perspective of the dreaded Powerline Climb. This comes at mile 80 during the race, and seems to never end (it goes on-and-on, far beyond what you can see in this photo). I can climb pretty darn well, but realized here that I would be pushing my bike up most of this section the next day.

The pre-ride also revealed that my rear derailleur was bent from the crash I took a couple of days earlier. So, PNut went to work on it at our campsite...and then the awesome Cycles of Life bike shop finished the job. I was all set to go - mechanically, at least. 

Race start time is 6:30am, and the day dawned clear but cold. Based on my finishing time at last year's qualifying race, I was in the 3rd wave of starters out of 8 total - but there were still several hundred riders ahead of me. Mountain biking legend Dave Weins' son performed an incredible national anthem, the crowd settled down, and the starting gun sounded. It was a neutral rollout for 3-miles out of town, and then the race began in "hurry up and wait" style. 

For the first hour or so - mainly the St. Kevins climb - racing consisted of riding patiently behind other riders and then passing people whenever the trail & energy allowed. It was a gorgeous day in the Colorado high country, and I made an effort to simply look around and soak up the experience. This photo is while climbing Sugarloaf at about mile 15, before descending Powerline.

I also focused on hydrating and taking in calories, early & regularly. I can bust out hard 2-3 hour rides with nothing more than a water bottle and a couple of gels, but anticipating 10 hours in the saddle I knew I had to fuel properly. I was also hoping to minimize the inevitable cramping that hits me late in long races.

Did I mention how beautiful it was out there?

And the aid stations were off the hook, in a good way. Such amazing energy.

My favorite section of the race was the singletrack, of course. This photo is around mile 35, before the true pain set in.

I made it to the Twin Lakes aid station at mile 40 right on my time goal of 3 hours. PNut resupplied me with food & water; and then, around mile 42, the route tilted up - and up - and up. For the last several miles of the 3,000 foot climb up Columbine, we were all pushing while the super-fast race leaders came screaming downhill to our left. It was intense, and I was starting to cramp...uggh. 

The Columbine aid station, at mile 52: on top of the world - figuratively, anyway. The food was delicious and the volunteers were absolute rockstars. I felt wrecked by the altitude and effort already, but the vibe here imparted hope.

I gave my disc brakes a good workout on the long Columbine descent, refueled again at the mile 63 Twin Lakes aid station (thanks to PNut for being there), and had a surprisingly nice resurgence until mile 80 at the base of Powerline climb. At that point it was obvious I was cooked and the cramping was going to fire up anytime there was extended climbing; we're talking about locking up in every muscle from hips to feet - calves, hamstrings, quadriceps, etc. It had also turned into a hot day by Leadville standards, and I knew the task was now a matter of somehow persevering to the finish at altitudes with very little oxygen for recovering. And yes, my dawggone hip hurt.

What keeps people going in situations like this is remarkable & inspiring. Dozens of riders were stopped along the trail every mile during the climbs - cramping, puking, laying down, moaning, and staring into space. Incredibly, we all paid money for this. For the last 2.5 hours of this reduced form of "racing," I had bursts of power followed by low points in 10-15 minute increments. Remembering why I was here is what kept me going. I kept repeating "I love mountain biking" to myself, and chuckling.

It worked. Miles 100 to 104 were brutal, but riding up that red carpet - with hundreds of people ringing cowbells & cheering, and the P.A. announcer reading off names & hometowns...I teared up. My body was dead but my heart was full, and there was a purity to it. The past few years of my life have been full of change, challenge, and sometimes painful self-analysis...but the bike has always been there. A lot of people, places, experiences and dreams led to this moment, and I was deeply thankful for all of it. 

My official finishing time was 10 hours 34 minutes, which put me almost exactly mid-pack (roughly 1,800 racers had started the day, from all 50 states plus 28 countries, and about 1,400 finished under the 12-hour cutoff time). I usually place higher, but with the exception of LOTOJA this effort was beyond anything else I'd done. I was 5 hours 17 minutes to the halfway Columbine turnaround, and the exact same 5 hours 17 minutes back...pretty crazy. All things considered, I'm proud of the effort - but there will be no rematch.

Event founder Ken Chlouber admonishes all racers to "dig deep," a metaphor from the town's Molybdenum mining roots and because that's what it takes to finish. And he's right. I'll wear the official finishers LT 100 Mtb jacket with honor, complete with my name and finishing time printed on the right shoulder. This bucket list item was the toughest yet...but worth every second. 

The medal and belt buckle are now reminders that "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger." And hopefully wiser. Leadville was awesome - the event, fellow racers, volunteers, scenery, town, tradition, everything - and it gave me an expanded perspective of the sport. 

Now it's time for some fun fall riding & fishing in the Tetons.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

From Early Spring to Late Summer in Driggs: It's All a Blur

One day it was spring (aka, mud season) - sleeting and raining and blowing every other day through the end of May - and then suddenly...bliss. There's not much that beats an Idaho summer.

Back to spring: my Robin friend shows up every April, builds a nest above the deck, re-builds it after storms blow it down, and stays through mid-June chirping and feeding her young. Just when it starts to get annoying, she's gone...and I actually miss that bird :)

Work travel continues to take me to incredible "Wild Idaho" places. These views of the Lemhi mountain rainge with a secret creek in foreground are typical of what I see. The dogs made this particular trip with me too, and loved it even more than I did.

And of course, there has been mountain bike racing. This photo is from the Pocatello Pedalfest, a great race and my first time participating. I had ridden the City Creek trail system for years (make that decades)...but racing always gives a new perspective. It was a fun June day.

Over a year ago, I was approached to help start & coach a local Driggs/Jackson high school mountain biking team - to be part of the burgeoning nationwide NICA (national interscholastic cycling association) program. I couldn't be the primary point person because of all my work travel, but our Mountain Bike The Tetons (MBT) organization and some other great people have stepped up...and we now have a team! I'm one of the assistant coaches, and loving the experience & kids already. The season's first race will be at Grand Targhee, with teams & families from all over Southern Idaho coming to our backyard; exciting stuff!

There have been plenty of thunderstorms too, keeping everything incredibly green...and the horses happy. 

As summer has progressed, I've also enjoyed some really nice rides with good friends. On the day below, Garth, Jansen & I explored nearly all of the Grand Targhee trails, including the top of Peaked - with stunning views of the Tetons. Not bad.

When you start seeing balloons in the early morning Teton Valley sky, you know it's summer. This local pastime has become tradition, and participation typically peaks around the 4th of July.

My good buddy PNut from Tucson came to visit in late June, and was awesome company. He's a professional mountain biking guide by trade, and loves exploring the backcountry almost as much as I do. This is Mesquite Divide, at the top of Coal Creek - a stellar hike, and one of my favorite spots on the planet...looking straight north up the spine of the Teton mountain range.

I even broke out the Fatbike for a little summer riding in Rick's Basin (at Grand Targhee), and wow it was fun! Those 4" wide tires make for a super-smooth ride.

In late July, Peaked Sports hosted the 20th Annual Targhee Hillclimb bike race - a time trial from downtown Driggs up to Grand Targhee Ski area, which totals 12 miles & 2,000 feet of climbing. I race for the Peaked Team, and it was great hanging out with teammates like Garth plus Peaked owner and local legend Dick Weinbrandt afterwards.

As always, nearby canyons beckon...and with all the spring & summer rain we've had, wildflowers have been spectacular this year. Here's to getting out and savoring it all, before we turn around and realize it's Fall.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Driggs and Beyond: Winter & Spring, Healing & Traveling, Work & Fun

And just like that, three months go by. I have no excuses for the lack of writing, other than a disjointed winter & early spring - I've been in Driggs, Arizona and Utah, plus all over Idaho for work. The knee surgery threw me sideways more than expected ("it's just a scope, you'll be ok in a few weeks"...not), both physically & psychologically; it's clear that I need to develop more non-physical hobbies. That all being's a re-cap.

Within ten days of surgery, I was spinning on a recumbent bike - and should have continued at that level for several weeks, rather than jumping on a real bike and aggravating the knee and then dealing with an inordinate amount of inflammation & scar tissue for several months...lesson learned. I simply like being outside.

January, February and March were very mild. This photo is a mid-January sunset in Driggs, when snowpack should be 2-3 feet deep in the valley...but it was just a few inches because of rain and thaws. Thankfully, the higher elevations like Grand Targhee picked up close to normal snowfall as winter progressed.

I was gone for most of it, but the 4th Annual Teton Valley Snowfest took place from January 23 to February 1. Warm temperatures made for challenging logistics - snow sculptures melted within a few days, hockey events were cancelled, and other modifications were necessary - but hats' off to the Teton Valley Foundation for still putting on a great local mid-winter event.

As mentioned: I couldn't resist riding an actual bike - it's who I am - and it helped keep me sane in spite of the knee and other issues.

There's definitely something healing about Sedona.

Meanwhile: back at the Driggs homestead, my snowbike awaited. This photo is overlooking Targhee Village golf course, which was open for play before the end of March. Unprecedented.

March brought a big work seminar in Pocatello with my dad and brother Mark. Several dozen customers attended, which was terrific - but the best part was spending time with these two guys.

Melissa bought a sweet new car, and Romeo approves.

We'll be starting a new high school mountain biking team here in Driggs/Jackson this summer, and I'll be an assistant coach. The sport has really taken off in neighboring states in recent years, and is a great thing for kids, communities, families, and of course cycling. To help prepare, I attended a two-day NICA (national interscholastic cycling association) coaching clinic in Boise a couple of weeks ago, where we learned rules, protocol, and skills. I'm psyched & honored to be a part of this.

I tend to be a "Rainbows & Unicorns" guy, but I would be remiss here if I didn't mention the handful of tragedies we've dealt with in Teton Valley these past couple of months. Good, young people - influential citizens & friends to many - have lost their lives. Some things simply don't make any sense, except perhaps to remind us that every day is a gift.

With that thought: spring is here, and I've been exploring new trails on work trips. The more I see of it, the better Idaho gets.

Last but not least: I spent some good time with Bridger last week, and hope to make that a more regular thing moving forward. He's eight years old now, enjoys watching ESPN (or am I projecting that?), swims in every creek, rolls in anything smelly...and always seems happy. Quite a combination.

Spring forward, friends.