The Mongolia Chronicles

27 years in hiding

 

That's my Dad - in 1972 - when he was the top ranked paddle player in the world with his partner John Mangan. I was probably sitting on the side of the court with my mom, sis and bro, getting in trouble for yelling inappropriate things to the folks on the other side of the court. I played raquet sports for much of my life, but have not played Paddle in about 27 years (as far as I can remember). Last nite I played and it was a fricking blast. I could feel my mind digging for details somewhere in my DNA, and when I stopped thinking, I actually hit a few good shots. I may be addicted, for this winter season, to this silly game. So, I thank BM for getting me out there and Jason and Charlie for tolerating my completely inappropriate drives. Most of all I thank Dad, and Mom. What a gift to have the genes, and the history to be able to go out there almost a few decades later - and have a blast. Long Live Paddle!!!!
  

True North Winter

 

Between the temp, the road conditions and the overall vibe of the ride this morning - I would say - yep - it's winter. Although the weather report is showing sun and relative warmth it doesn't feel like it will be adequate for meltage on any significant level. The mountain opens in TWO days - and this volume of snow and lower temperatures should help us get some early terrain open, some places to spread out and go fast, and most importantly get the dude on his own board and get him shredding.
  

Resurrection

  Resurrection can mean many things. Take many forms. Take place in the oft strangest of places, weather systems, or times. It's not where you are - it's what you are. As such - a glorious day - as we welcome the storm that will likely lock down the two wheels in the woods for - well - maybe 6 months or so. In the face of sleet-fog and snow and pending upslope - we headed out. It was cold, snowy, and a little sketchy as you leave tracks when the snow is like this and we are not huge fans of tracks. Given the choice - I would rather never leave tracks. I'd rather never be seen in the woods. Safer that way. Yet, today - we made tracks - great and historical tracks and took a pilot of the first order on some of the future of the world that we know as Mongolia. This sharing, in and of itself - was a joy. Did we freeze? Yes. Did we celebrate the season when we got back - yes. Was it glorious - yes. And to watch a pilot of pilots kick his leg over his one speed machine in the freedon of the hills when many wouldn't even consider going outside - this indeed was priceless.

Resurrection. May it inspire us - and other connections and late nights and labor and love and blood, sweat and tears and life. Always.

House Money

Freedom. F-R-E-E-D-O-M. They can take a lotta shit - but they can never take today back. So make today - the day - you want to dream about for all o f eternity - in your fucking grave.

Mission accomplished. A moment for the record books with the dude, and Black Osmosis is birthed....now destined for the history books.

Soft and Dark and Focused

  

It is that time. Dark. I read Quinn's books at night, and many revolve around bears going to sleep, mice storing acorns, and I think we are there. Trying to be there. Relax. Allow the winter to come on in (it's coming anyway). It's tough though. After the potential shutdown of last week, we are fairly clear and dry. The trails scream at me all day and all nite and pull me - like an addiction. Not like an addiction. They are a complete addiction. I don't know the mechanics or realities of how this pull surges and drops...it never really drops, but as I was getting my lights on last night, nowhere specifically close to a 'trail' in the traditional sense of the word, getting kinda hungry, temp dropping....it was just so awesome out I sent out a bunch of notes to friends to query their light systems - as - as long as we have trail - and it is getting dark pretty early. I didn't have to turn the lights on until about 5:10 last night. 5:10 seemed like 3am, but I kind of forced myself to ride longer and be out, knowing that it will shut down - for real - soon.

So, not life or death - for sure - and to be certain. But - bikes are close to life. Bikes are life affirming, so as long as it is possible - iterate that verve (partially) through turning the pedals. One more time.
 
  

Best. Day. Ever.

Shadows and Flats

Knew I was going to flat. Don't know how I knew that. Flatted at 1.5 miles from the bottom of Mag at about 39 mph. Had to make a 9am meeting, light stress but had a few extra minutes, even in time for a bagel sandwich. 75 today. Alive. Good day.

Escape To The Local Desert

 

Contrast. Pushing through snow last nite. Pushing the single up a few thousand feet today. Felt incredibly good to sweat, and ride in shorts and in the sun and get out for a lunch date with the bestest of wives - MINE!
  

When Snowsnakes Bite

 

Just epic Sunday morning down on the snowdrifts below the house with The Dude of Dudes taking serious punishment in the snow. We had about 10 crashes like this - and they were all spectacular...I mean - spectacular. He took 'em all on the chin. Or face, as it were. Go Quinn.
  
  

Hope Falls Eternal

Odds of skating today: 1 in 10,345

Hours spent clearing the ramp with Q: 3.5

Cups of coffee: 3

Advil: 3

Satisfaction of some long, slow feebles and some tail slams: PRICELESS

Time change tonite. Lockdown imminent. Dig deep to confront and embrace the coming gloom.