The Mongolia Chronicles

Pedantic and Perfect

The view yesterday afternoon from the Crab Deck in Half Moon Bay was nice. As was the view of the pumping, clean surf. This view however, means I am here. I am riding on January, 31. I am still alive and kicking. To say the least.

Sedona

2 hours this morning, starting with a 22 degree high humidity climb. Despite the binge of the last few days - the legs felt pretty good. Took the 'skinny' tire bike - and it just isn't as viable up in the high country with the current conditions. It is clear enough to make you want real snow, or no snow. Down below - however - it is just dry and fast and I even sort of feel like I can ride my bike again. Just in time to get on a plane. San Francisco is never a chore. I get to hang with the mushroom dudes at Back to The Roots (http://www.backtotheroots.com/). I would walk to SF just to be exposed to their energy and verve. So, back onto the germ tube and out into the 'real' world.

Against All Odds

 

That we would have not ONE - but TWO - three-legged dogs on our hike today with Miss KIm. That The Shed of Tin exists - here in our space and time. That the Q-Dog and Shenna and I would find each other through time and space. That I would make it both to the 4th of July trailhead yesterday - OR - the top of the FP on the FB - following the Renny-man today. That I would sign in at the throne in good health on a two-wheeled vehicle on this - the 26th of January. Against all odds. I like those odds. I will kepp playing them.

10,041 on 1.26

Climbed west and UP and looked across at the ski area - or I think what we will refer to in the future as 'the place that we sometimes ski - when there is snow and it isn't 46 degrees at 10,000 feet in late January. Made it all the way to the 4th of July trailhed. There are years when that road is closed until mid-july. The snow is packed down like a road...and it's pretty glorious to crawl upwards on the fat tires and see NO people and listen to the silence and watch the peaks materialize from the western horizon as each turn gets consecutively higher. Silence, and the woods. Ever rejuvenating.

One of these days.....

Solid effort today from all of camp Kingsbury. Really, just a phenomenal day with barriers broken (and crashes taken) on the bike; new music learned; sunset watched...falling into bed exhausted, stinky, covered with earth and fire smoke and scabs and smiles.

Ever. Upward.

Climbing in the near dark. Legs felt KILLER today. There is a ton of GREEN GRASS in the woods. Very scary. Repeat - terrifying. Crazy fast paced work day...which is great. Work hard and play hard and try to do good things out there in the world.

Grey and Slow

This ride - which I have done approximately a million times - but never in January - is odd. Regardless of how fast or slow I feel like I am going - the ride takes between 1:47 and 1:50. I felt slower than molassas this morning - I mean really slow and yet there I am at the coffee shop within three minutes of when I totally hammer. So strange. Nice to be out. I feel like a pregnant rhino with flat tires - but it's nice to be out and get a couple K of vertical before the day starts.

What we craft from the wreckage is entirely up to us

Frame 1. Q railing it op hard this am in 40+/- mph winds in a lame ass winter with no snow and freezing temps and just the entirety of the wrongness we have wrought upon ourselves. He is riding on the detritus of the 70 trees we dropped last year due to the iminent threat of fire here in the hight country, a direct result of the collective 'we' ass-fucking the planet with quite literally, a sand-paper condom. Frame 2. More clear-cutting as a result of mitigation which is french for 'cut all the trees down' as a result of us ass-fucking the planet in our single occupancy vehicle miles and our inability to be flexible - at all. Where there once was soul - filling trail - now there are clear cuts. And we do - literally deserve this shit and more. Finally - a moment of literal levity as E-Fry launches the jump on his wide - berthed steed of love. The key thing is - we got out today. TODAY. There is no other day that matters. This is it, folks. If you are waiting for a sunnier tomorrow - go ahead and eat that bullet now, and ask your friends/spouse to burn your corpse up in some environmentally friendly way. Ain't no one else going to make your way or make it easy for you or find meaning. That's the trip. It's up to each one of us, individually. The beauty is - if we all make the right choices we can literally change the world, collectively.

When Great People Die

My friend of 30 years, Bill Keith, commuted home from work - from his job at SRAM to his kick ass place with his kick ass wife a few blocks from the lakefront in Chicago Thursday nite. He was found shortly after, rushed to the hospital and died that nite. Camelhead, or Bus - Stop as Bill was known sold me the Jamis Dakar that I rode cross country on in the summer of 1984. I remember working Super Sale at Orange Cycle Works in the mid-80's with Bill and Wham-o, his wife. I remember racing triathlons in the heat of Florida in the later 80's. I could crush Camel in the swim, but he would take ma apart on the bike, and especially on the run. Bill could do a 70 mile ride in 90 degree Florida heat, and hop off and head out at a 6 minute pace. No water. No fatigure. Hence, the term Camel-head. I think the bus-stop reference refers to a time when Bill ran into the large side mirror of a bus, on a ride. Camel hammered me. He was better, faster, more focused. That was 30 years ago. He played through with that focus. I raced with Bill and our whole crew throug the 80's. I did my last Ironman in 1989. Camel did his last Ironman last year. In his 50's, he was faster than when I was 21. Fucking animal. I remember like 10 years ago in crested butte, finishing I think what was Deer Creek and coming down through Gothic, and Bill was fucking hammering. I was hanging on by a thread and he was killing me and I live at 8,000 feet and he lives at sea level. Damn, dude - I said - let up. We had a slight tail wind heading back into the butte, to beers and showers and food and rest, and he said: "As long as there is a tail wind....might as well hammer". More recently, I think '07,  I can't remember if it was Mexico or Panama on a surf trip - Bill was always first in the water and last out. Enthusiast and positive force. 

So, Camel. For 3 decades of punishing me (I am grateful for that) for your enthusiasm for bikes and life and surfing and beer and sun and fun and commitment and focus. Dude. I am shattered, but still here. I rode today, here in the high country of Colorado, and as I stared down at my front tire...which I think is something that has occupied my view for at least a third of my life....I thought of you. I could say it was the winter wind that was making my eyes water - but that would be bullshit. I was re-playing all the times you buoyed me up and reminded me that I am tough, tougher than I think. And I am so sad that you are not here, blessing us with your presence. But I know...that you are hammering right now....85 miles into a century in 98 degree Florida heat. Accelerating as the rest of us fade and beg for mercy. And while everyone else is lamenting the pain and the heat, and talking about other things...you are just psyched to go rip out a half or more run in even more brutal heat. And I will be there - only behind you, as I was never as gifted. And I will be filled with admiration and awe and fucking MAD respect. For you. I hope I can catch you - for once - so I can high five you as you surge and I fade. That I can just say Thank you. You introduced me to bikes. And bikes - and LIFE and verve - have been one of the major things that keep me alive. Travel safe dude. You will always be in us and with us. I will see you soon, if I can catch up......

No Complaints At All

Laws, Yes (that spells m-o-o-n) we could complain. No snow. Scary dry. 16 below zero. All that. Or, we could embrace the local hill, burn some corduroy, wonder what the hell they excavated from the face of Corona (see pic 3). It looks like a small meteor impact or maybe an elephant fell from space and dented THE SHIELD. No, they are busting ass to keep us having shit to slide on. AND - one of the few times I wll be psyched someone drove the gulch. Snowbikes excel in tire tracks. So, now, we plan, the X-Gross Snowbike commute - across the ice and into history. HAH. None of this matters, which is whay ALL of this matters.