The Mongolia Chronicles

Pillows of dirt. Pillows of filth.

We go becasue we can. And we should. After the week traveling and the pain in the hip and the sleepless nites and the needles yesterday...I was doubtful. Charlie said 'Stay Active'. Well, I figured I could do some scouting and rock drop prep - while promising myself I wouldn't actually jump off anything. Alone. In the woods. Chubb is ripe fpr the dropping. I prepped the launch and slid around the bottom and poked around to make sure there was no new lumber in the landing zone. If dirty is good, filthy is likely better. And it was. NO lines. NO tracks and problematically deep snow (whoaa is me).

The deep woods lines are open and deserted. Even the face was deserted. The parking lot looks like Best Buy on Black Friday - but there are no people in the woods. I crossed nary a track, nor saw a human. Lotsa tracks from bunnies and coyotes and birds and squirrels. The woods were a welcome respite from a heavy week with travel, followed by another next week (ok- next week is San Diego - I am not complaining) but it still means the sludge to DIA and the germ tube and the parking and the rental cars and the blah. The solace and silence of the woods were lovely, and I was even stoked to just ride alone, scout, take my time and get back in there. 75 days left in the season. 75 days to dig deep and deeper and find corners of the postage stamp of dog that mortals dare not tread. Lovely, I say.

 

Is that a pen in your Soas, or are you just happy to see me?

While Fitness and Joe Man and Polerider were reveling in the deep, I was getting large needles stuck in me, or through me - in some cases - and trying to uncover the source of the agony I have had in my hip since last Monday. Here in Boulder, we don't just die and get old. We resort to bizarre and intense treatments to remain in one piece, and even to remain shred ready. I had some deep needling today at the hands of a very talented Boulder physical therapist. A bizarre and hopefully effective, yet somewhat brutal technique. Large 3-5 inch needles are stuck into various crevices and muscles - in my case - he went through my back to get to the soas - which is actually in the front - so - yep - he went through. Bizarre. Hopefully it worked, and we can chalk today's epic miss of a great powder day to staying healthy and shredding for a long time.

Ball Deep. Balls Cold. For The Faithful. Someone hand me a pole (or two).

And in the mists of Mordor. I met a girl so fair.

Today was other-worldly. In past years - there is NO WAY they would be spinning chairs. Eldo, that is. It was GNARLY. Visibility was 10 feet or less with 'severe and damaging winds' and it was just kinda insane. Even for Eldo. There is a theory that the 'money grubbing assholes' who altered the opening chair times; the days that IP operates - LITTLE THINGS - will risk it all for a few hundred grand which is what a day like today at near capacity can offer them. Disorienting would be what I would call the conditions. Blinding. Surreal. Like sliding in a cloud. Some contact with earth, but really, not. Either way...it was a grand few days at the rock, and now I am off to Austin for a few days, and the rain and the humidity will be a welcome change.

 

You never know...Unless You Go

Yes...prognosis this morning was not great. 2" overnite - winds 20-30 with gusts. Marginal. Saturday. Crowds. Gapers. Flatlanders. Almond smuggling racer dicks crawling all over the hill in irresponsible figure 11's. Butt...this was not to be. For the Gods of variable and serendipity did indeed shine brightly on the Joe Man and I. We checked some woods, being wary of all the timber in there from the 'wind event' back in November. And it was lovely, and deep and slow and quiet and CALM. Racers don't go in the woods. They are scared of tearing their colorful lycra suits. Gapers don't either as the chicks are not in the woods (with rare exceptions). So it was that Matt P did pull the rope on the western part of the resort....with many warnings: "TREES, ROCKS, VARIABLE, YOU WILL RUIN YOUR EQUIPMENT AND MAYBE YOURSELF!!!!". Ah yes, but here in lies the dividends of some 23 season passes on the postage stamp of GOD. As evidenced in the first shot in the 2nd row there. You can be feet - or inches from raw talus - and there will be DEEP and FLUFFY lines. You just gotta know where to go. Chicken was huge; the lip at the bottom of said glade said up like the storm of '03 whence the Guatemalen scud did indeed launch blindly into a tree. It was fast and lovely and VISCOUS as the snow fell warm and had that feel of 32 degree snow. Pliable, welcoming and just giggle-friendly damn good. Expecting more tonite. See you at the rope, unless of course you can't get there in time, in which case, I will likely not see you at all.

"Honey, I'm Home"

There comes a time each year when the trails are closed by the white, but the other - other trails are not yet open. The narrow slots in the love folds of Eldora. The space between the runs as it were and the palces I live for when the snow gets deep enough and I can bounce thorugh the woods quietly, alone, or with DICKIE. Today was just freaking grand and quiet and lovely and I am relieved of the existential angst of not being able to go fast in narrow places in the woods - be it on bike or board. The woods are open people, and they are lovely and I will see you out there (not) 'cuz kinda like with the bike season - nobody really likes to go where I love to go. May it ever be thus.

Harder in the snow

The tale that the winter environment tells is one of tracks, and the passage of many, many animals. Elk, squirrel, rabbit - and here in the hood - even MOOSE. I love crossing tracks with these animals. It feels silent and powerful. We had another fire at the igloo tonite but it is like 1 degree - with heavy wind and heavy snow - rather than 30 and still like last nite. Sucked some smoke, had a hard time starting the fire and noticed that my Euphoria was freezing in between sips. Came inside and it was 1. Degree. So, we fared ok - not freezing and experimenting in the elements for much of the day.

The Ice Palace That Melted Away

It's all temporary. These are the good old days. All that. A fire, in the Igloo at dusk and dark, watching the sky change. A feeble and a switch feeble in January. Cash. Money. This is it. Q and I are gonna sleep outside on a sub-zero nite just to see if we can. May ti ever be thus.

Winter Maintenance Has begun

Igloo-Palooza is taking over the neighborhood. High winds and lower temps mean it's time for a bonfire. On the not too short bucket list for winter, there are about 6,743 trees down 'in the yard', many of them obfuscating places where mountain bicycles might roam in drier times. It is quite the satisying and simple activity to ski to these locations (w/downed tree map in hand) and clear thing up a bit. Knowing that in a few short months we will be rolling and smiling and making love to these woods without the prophylactic layer of snow - ironically - connecting with mere rubber.

Sweaty Eddie Rocks The Chronicles

Yes, the nephew did recieve a GoPro from the whack uncle, and has put it to great use:

 

It Helps To Be First

Now that I DON'T DRINK COFFEE anymore, the pre-powder experience - even on a day like today where upon the ENTIRETY of the Colorado ski and slide population descedn upon our sacred, and tiny, and barely half open 640 acres of Love - it is a calm experience. In a very zen like way, I made my way to the back - first - with a full maze and strafing skiiers and the like. And that first 1,600 feet of poweder was indeed - lovely. A reminder - kind of like when the waves get good - that we wait for it - and then we are reminded of the source of the addiction and the joy of slowly dropping Corona knowing there are 10 empty chairs behind you - and no one in the rear view. It was a lovely day. A gift. Even got out for a run this afternoon - if that's what you call the January waddle through snow pits and crust and covered up trails. Onward into what promises to be a pretty intense week. Deep breathe. Calm.