The Mongolia Chronicles

To Go or Not to Go

 People sometimes (always) ask how long the ride is. Is it all downhill? Today was a lovely net loss of something like 4,200 feet. I went into the Mank. The rough stuff. Calling it a ride is kind of a misnomer. It was a 3 hour PILGRIMAGE to the office standing desk here at 1401 Pearl. Very conscious decision to get lost and go deep and look for remote cairns and rock piles from 18 years ago. Damn. It's a good thing the rocks just hang out and don't change or I might be up there eating my companions. Oh, wait - I didn't have any companions. Hah. Great, deep early season strike into one of my favorite zones on the planet. Now the only question remaining is where to ride tonite? 

I'm Gonna Cal it an Insta-Blog

 Yes, I - like the masses of asses on the inter-tubes have made Instagram the highest engagement social media platform (take that Mark Z). But, I find it, as things heat up here in the hood, a bit short winded. And I know that the BLOG is considered long-form journalism (the Lincoln-Douglas debates were 7.5 hours with a dinner break - think we'd be up for that as a culture people?). So, Quinn belts the ball and blows our mind in the desert, and we head out onto sacred ground to clean up the 'wind events' of the winter's past (which was so not a winter here at least) and I look back and I realize I want a more detailed record of the passing of every day. Hour. Minute. Historical shit happens EVERY day. Who cares? well, who cares who cares. The act of putting it out there is the reason that we are here. For the lovers, the haters...for everyone. Google 'mirror nuerons' and think about what it is you put out every day when you interact with the world. The world simply mirrors what you put out. It's that simple. Today I put out 6.5 hours of exploration and devotion and love and effort - and the payback was like Vegs slot shit. Way more than I could ever imagine. Get out there. Care about something. Put a stake in the ground and defend it. If defending it means pulling a stake from the ground, well then get on it. Do not assume anyone is going to give a shit. That's your job. Good Luck.

It's All # 3

 7 short days ago I am ripping a fav desert trail. Today. Shoveling and digging out cars and pushing the Phat-bike. Lesson: It's all the same thing. It's all number 3. Huge storm slamming us and it is a great thing. Feet of powder and single digits and drifts and life. This is it, Beyatches. This - is - it.

Follow the Call

 Wild times. Aren't they all? Rallied for a few idyllic, quiet, solo days in the desert. Rode something like 14 hours in 48. Felt great. Felt wicked stronger as the time went on. It's the old guy physiology. Slid in (literally) under the front edge of the storm and lo and behold....17" of fresh at Eldora. One forgets (at least I do) the weightless and completely free sensation of falling down vertical faces adhering only through minimal friction of snow crystals and P-tex. The Rock was a zoo but I never saw that part of it. Doesn't matter how full the maze is as long as you are front row. So worth it to rally early. As my friend Pat used to say...he could get up and drink 3 cups of coffee and wail out 60 emails. Or, he could stretch and load up and hit first chair and do something that feeds his soul and the world's soul. Does the world need more email - NO. Does the world need more chill sliding and being outside immersed in the miracle of nature? Hell yes.

I'm Not Dead

 No, I have not run out of things to say. Darn, Dear Reader. I have been lured into the world of Instagram (Nednimby - pls jump on board). It is so easy and life has been super busy and crazy. I got the new iPhone Fablet (6+) and is a command control center and basically takes better pictures than my A-list camera. But here I am. Alive and well in the most random winter of all time. 60's and 70's. They sliding is terrible and the trails are a fozen miasma of impassable hell. So...heading to Fruita for a few days to revel in the dry desert air. Will be the first road trip I have taken alone in something like 20 years. It feels disorienting (fam is on the east coast). Off into the ether clutching my worn and bedraggled copy of Desert Solitaire and exploring a ride/sleep/read schedule for a few.

Come Alive

 There is a moment in each season when we remember why we put up with the wind and the cold and THE WIND and the lack of snow and the idea that a ski area needs snow to BE ALIVE. Then there is that moment where it reaches critical mass and we can pass under the ropes (albeit carefully) and visit old friends and new and glide through deep, silent powder on the appropriate tool. It was only 7 inches (that is indeed, what she said) but it was enough to open up some obscure woods and be in the silence and the depth and away from the dreaded SKI RUNS and into the crux of the biscuit. Eldora, we love you. We hate you. We worship you.

Flying Bookends

 Quinn is pulling perfect frontflips (with no brakes which is pretty crazy) and Fat Old Dad is happy with floaty Indy air hucks. Unreal. Feel very lucky to be out there representing the older generations with Shredly of the future.

Top 2 Commutes of the last 25 years

 
There are many different ways to assess a commute. A simple ride to the office as it were. I have ridden in almost every condition conceivable over the last 25 years. Rain, snow, sleet. I've been hit, run off the road; one-legged it in with a gaping wound that reqired three layers of stitches. I have high-sided and blown up a camelback on impact, been chased by bears and tree'd by a moose. So, as I pedaled up our sunny road this am in icy fog with about an inch of new snow over ice, I ecpected the ride would be a bit - 'sporty'. 

 The views above the inversion we amazing. Temp somewhere around 20. Super high humidity, but I was dressed for it and stoked on the first half of the ride. The decent on Magnolia was fine, until I hit the fog. The temp felt like it dropped about 10 degrees and there was a coating of ice on everything. The combo of ice, water from where they salted and fog and temp...crazy. When I finally was able to get off Boulder canyon and onto the creek path I slid straight across, slammed sideways and just kept sliding. There was a solid 1/4 inch of sheet ice on the path. Here's to Phat Bikes and getting lucky and not getting hurt this am!!!

Why I Rode Today: The Light

 I do not want to jump the gun into 'early Spring' when we have a GREAT DEAL of very cold weather still in store for us. Still, the quality of the light this morning was much softer than even a few days ago. I don't think I am completely imagining this. I got out today and the light drew me up. And patches of real DIRT bouyed my cold and dark spirit.

Given To Fly

 Pretty amazing to see your spawn doing things outside the realm of possibility. More to come on this. But suffice to say....the micronaut has wings.