The Mongolia Chronicles

Pretty Fly For a Monday: Happy 13 To Us.

 It started out a bit ominous with angry skies at 7:15am. Rare. But this year has been about 4 weeks behind, so we are now officially into August.

 We did the first casual 1,100 feet of climbing in about 40 minutes. Watching the clouds to our west, it started raining right as we headed east. Our timing was perfect. This particular section of CLASSIC BOCO TRAIL was like the duendes had been out 30 minutes before. Polishing. Buffing. It was just kind of perfect.

 About a third of the way into the heart of the ride, we quite literally, took a hard left. I have passed this left for 10 years. But, only today, was I pumped to go see where it comes out. I mean, here we are, poised on the brink of some of the finest 1x in the county, and I gotta go explore. Gotta say - I was stoked. This 'workaround' to some recent construction and land issues is quite brilliant, raw, and inspired. If this is yours, I would very much like to buy you more than a few beers. I felt like I had stumbled upon one of our local 'systems', only, I was about 2.5 hours from home by bike, and I certainly (judge) had never seen this before. I LOVE finding new trails. I love it. One of my favorite things.

Finally, later in the ride, after some pizza and chicken pot pie, we climbed again, and the descended into the belly of the fire, from last year. We both got kinda somber. Felt like we should not be recreating amidst such tantamount destruction. A trail I have been riding for over 2 decades is essentially, gone. A reminder, of how temporary all of this really is. Standards of years gone by are gutted, burned out trenches, etc. So, note to self: When on righteous trail - bow down and kiss said ground as it is, as are all things, quite temporary. 

We made it to school in time to get Quinn (left @ 7:40am, arrived Boulder 1:40pm). Not efficient in the temporal sense of the word, but quite rich, and a traditional ride on our anniversary every year. Quinn mirrored our exhaustion on The Can...and I doubt any of us will see 8pm tonite.

Like I said, Pretty fly for a Monday.

60+30=L.O.V.E.

The dude in these pics is 60+ - as in human years. It felt only appropriate or even kind of honorary that he laid forst rubber on The Tolle Rode. He has lived here in the hood for some 30+ years. From 'back in the day'. My back in the day starts from the late 80's. His from the early 70's. Hello, Mcfly. So, it was with just right and aplomb that we cracked beers on an overlook in new terrain, and sat in the rain and quaffed fine Ska Suds...and appreciated this place that we have been so blessed to call home. Every day is a gift. I hope in 20+ years I can love getting out to move some trees and ride in the thunder and lightning. Thank you, Jim. Would not have got this done without your energy.

Labor:2:Art

 Gotta start here. Yesterday riding to work my Garmin 705 fell off the bike. Blessing? Curse? The human need to quantify. Guess what - my bike works great withoutthe GPS. Hah! Lest we get obsessed with quantification. The first 90 minutes of today was spent finding a 2X4 nch piece of tech. Found it. I was stoked. I saw it in my mind before I found it. Destiny.

 Later on in the ride I rode down this thing that used to be a road. Nothing makes me happier thans road disappearing. This made me quite glad.

 This view came into range. Of the back range, as it were. I love the yellow moss. I have not seen this specific angle on this specific view before. It is, indeed, lovely.

Now, we get to the crux, as it were, or is, as the case may be. There is a time in all endeavors when labor turns to love and art. One The Road of Tolle, I have reached this point. The project is essentially done. Now it's all about tweaks and art and finish trim and aesthetic and things of the like. I created a sign in - much like the FP:

 The irony, and I quote the MadMan CC on this:"If you are the only one who rides this, and if you have a name for it, like, who do you talk to about it?" Well, wise question O paddle partner of the gods. Let's take it one step further: If I am the only who signs in to this analog sign in thing, in this digital world - does it make a noise if it fall sin the woods? Well, Jean Paul - I would say - No. It only makes a noise in my head. So, no one else had ever ridden this trail. So, if I never rode it again - would anyone miss it? Would someone find this trail some 30 years hence and read this and wonder. I don't know. But what I do know is there is some import to writing this shit down in somewhere other than the cloud (here). Where it is real. Where some 50-70 years hence some fool, who may be trying to connect the same random shit I am, finds this and says - yes. Someone was here before.

 

Saved By The Bel(t)

Minneapolis yesterday. Nederland, today. Early rise, lovely morning with some moisture in the ground. Trails are tacky, fast and the legs have a day of rest in them - which is rare. Cooler temps and lower light...it is officially my favorite time of year. Sleep a ton, ride even more, and start finishing out some projects. Jeff Z - lost your email AND #: hit me @ dkingsbury@newhope.com. Let's get out.

From on high to In Deep

Being that the mulleted midget is now 'en la escuela' as they say at Uni Hill, and being that I was getting on a plane yesterday, the girl and I rolled at 7:20 and headed up high to the ferns and the loveliness and the Birthday and Lips connector of love. If ever there were a braille trail, it would be this. One must sniff out the entire thing from top to bottom and I am grateful it's imprinted and also grateful that we got wheels on these 2 BoCo Modern Classics that are essentially never being ridden. Along those lines, next Monday is our wedding anniversary and we will be stitching together a MULTITUDE of decades of classics and riding from the house - ALL THE WAY TO BOULDER - the long way around. We have 7 hours budgeted for the ride. Oh, bring that shit in.

Today - Minneapolis and meetings at Target Corporate and Cargill. Couple 'o' giants in this new world I inhabit and two players that are essential in getting health and wellness out of the white suburbs and into the world. Should be a killer day, but I always have trouble connecting a ride like yesterday's to sitting outside sipping Lagunitas on a summer evening in the mid-west.

Finally, the robust, community centered, advocacy and all things righteous future heart of the Ned sports and mountain bike scene is taking shape, just steps from the brewery, the skatepark, and LBL's new pad. The future is here. And now. And it has never looked rosier.

Bear(s): The rest of the story

Best bear encounter ever. Mom and 2 kids in a VERY remote part of our world. Full story @ 11. What a way to start the day.

 First noise - what is that rustling out in the woods.....I am not alone.

 Mom cuts across the trail with junior cub 1. And waits. And starts making this bizarre noise - which was indeed - calling kidlet 2

 Baby dude bear 2 comes out of the brush...heading for mom crossing right on front of me.

 Baby 2 catches up with mom and bro dude bear.

 The bears call it a day - say that this human is stinking up their mojo and they head up the hill.

 Best part of the day though was Q coming out as I tried to snag a few turns before dusk on a lovely summer night: "Dad, can I skate."

Dinosaur. Alchemy. Acres. Forward.

Just when you thought it was a Lost Cause. Carrying home through dense, northside woods...and lo and behold: I think I see the light. A path through impossible and improbable woods. Thank you, Woods. When I can hear you - when I stop to listen (ok, carry my bike) you always deliver.

#5

 

If all days were as righteous as this..there would be no war or need or greed or confessions to make. It would all be simply, Bliss. Happy 5 Q. The things we are sharing now - as always - are priceless.

These are a few of my favorite things

Sideways is ok.

Quiet morning. Love those. 6:30 wake up and then a solo roll through the heart of the heartland. Rolled slow. Absorbed the quiet of the woods. No chatting. No noise. One GREAT header. But otherwise, and hour and 50 minutes of bliss.

I'm a little bit country. And she's a little bit rock & roll

I watched this show. I think it was 8pm Sundays and I kinda had a thing for Marie. Who I think maybe had a thing for Donnie. Always made me wonder in a 'Flowers in the attic' kinda way. But, that is not my point, here, tonite.

It takes all kinds. One of the things I learned about the world in my stint in GLOBAL JUGGERNAUT ADVERTISING (http://www.cpbgroup.com/#/) is that it takes all kinds. Some might prefer to be on production with Alec Baldwin in L.A. for 9 weeks...while my boat - might be more floated by say - not doing that. My boat might float more from being at home playing Dinosaur Dig with my kid. It takes all kinds. So, I am mixed about the JUGGERNAUT approach to the HS climb on W.Mag. I appreciate the SIEGE tactics used to put in the trail. Overall, I will benefit from this trail. I will suffer less as I ride home in the evenings, and I will descend with more speed and aplomb on my way to the brewery due to it's broad, buttery nature. In a year - this trail will look like part of the woods instead of a Serbian forest after a late nite bombing raid.

A mountain bike tire is - what - say like 3-4 inches wide. I REALLY like trails that make you turn and flow and use your whole body to SNAKE through things. People I know - like my wife - HATE many of the trails I love best. One - because they GO NOWHERE* and two because they demand a fully body commitment and a DYNAMIC approach to riding. Lean here, squiggle there, switchback on said trail, etc.

So, I really want to be SUPER stoked about this trail and the general direction of some LEGAL resources being put towards the West Mag trail system. I am grateful to BOA and TM and the crew and ALL the folks who threw down and dug dirt and sweated and put that shit in.

I doubt I will be riding it very often, though. My route home has about 653 choices and I tend to go for the carries, and the 'barely there' trails and the little indents and small, hard to find things that many folks would not call a trail. They might call it a path. Or a 'you are high, dave - where are we riding'. My wife might never ride these trails as she does not enjoy them and in most cases can not find or follow these vague excuses for trails. These trails, however, don't just float my boat. They erect my mast. They make me grin and smile and when certain folks ride them and say theat they thought they were going to end at some remote cabin where their liver might be eaten this makes me happy. I've always been one for the road less trodden. The trail lress ridden, or ridden so little that it is barely there. It os these silent and hard to find 'byways' that give me great joy.