Gooney Riders

Finding a way

I don't remember the first time I met Fred but I do remember my initial impressions of him.  He's craaazy.  He's crazy, and angry, and Swedish, and his idea of a good time skiing (narrow, steep couloirs over large cliffs) was the polar opposite of mine (Nice, mellow 28-30 degree glades in the winter and big open faces in the spring).  I'm not even sure how Chris and Fred's paths crossed skiing, but they did, and in the end, they put together several amazing traverses over the years, as well as getting shut down and sitting in a 2-person singlewall tent together in the Indian Peaks for several days before bailing out.

Then one day, Fred quit his high-paying job in the biotech industry to pursue free-lance photography.  This was in the depths of the economic downturn and I remember thinking to myself, 'He's craazy.'  But I could sympathize as I was in the process of extracting myself from grad school after 5 years of studying various things, that while interesting, really didn't ignite any sort of passion in me.

So it made me happy, sitting at the top of 401 with Chris and Fred on Tuesday morning, dressed up in pretty wool cycling clothing, that when a group of hikers came by and asked us why we weren't at work, Fred could legitimately say that we were.  Or at least that he was.

It's not a half bad gig...aside from having to get up stupid early.

Everyone has dreams of their perfect job, of how to make ends meet doing what they love.  I always tell Chris that it doesn't matter what we're doing here to make rent as long as on the side, we're working on our superhero jobs on the side.  

Do what you love.  Do it well enough, and someone will pay you for it.  Here's to hoping.

Walking the Sharp End

I love riding my bike.  I love climbing knife ridges. Riding bikes gives the thrill of gravity, momentum, and covering large distances.  The bike does have its limits for it needs a trail.  I do not feel complete on a bike, nor do I without, so why not combine the two?  That is the beauty of backcountry skiing.  One can enjoy a technical climb, and enjoy gravity on the way back down.  Too often I get locked on my bike. I think it's important to lay the bike down, and explore with nothing but my two feet.   

Cheers,

Chris

 

Bucket List

Last week I was standing out on our porch, drinking coffee, admiring the leaves when a realization hit me: The leaves are changing!  This is the view from our porch.

Changing leaves means one thing, winter is coming!  Our alpine trails could get shut down any day and my bucket list of rides that I wanted to do this summer seemed like it hadn't even been dented!  I could worry about being tired later, I needed to get moving!

 

Unfortunately, it was nearly 1 pm on Monday by the time I crossed everything off my 'Time-sensitive Things to Do' list. I pondered the wiseness of heading out towards Star Trail.  Thought it was only a 9 mile stretch of trail, it was five miles past Reno Divide, which in itself was nearly a 2-hour ride from the house.  Then the trail would deposit me on the other side of Reno Ridge, so the two options for getting home would be to climb the backside of Deadmans or to coast all the way down Spring Creek and come home over Jacks.  Neither option was short.

So I packed my lights.  Plus, I knew that I could always turn around.  Up to a point.  

That point was the turn off to the trail.  I looked wistfully behind me, I'd just descended a good bit of chunder that would be sub-fun to climb.  I looked down the trail.  I sat down and looked at the map hoping that maybe the lines on the map would tell me whether I could traverse those 9 miles before darkness fell.  Star trail lies in the realm of Taylor Reservoir, and I'd heard that motos loved it.  The only real beta I'd had about it was that 'it wasn't fast going' on it.  I hemmed and hawed.  I looked both directions again. I looked at the map some more, knowing that if I didn't ride the trail right then and there, I probably wouldn't get to it again this season.  It was 4 pm, 3 more hours of daylight.

Then I employed one of my favorite bike riding mantras. 'Stop being such a pansy-ass and pedal!' (Pansy-ass is generally substituted with a colorful array of similar terms, but I try to keep this blog PG-13)  I figured that even if it got dark, I had a full set of lights, so I could make it out.  I might get annoyed, but I could make it out.

The trail turned out to be exactly what one would expect from a high-altitude moto trail.  Lots of rocks, roots, and ruts.  The descending was chunky and funky, the climbing, well, mostly hike-a-bike and then there were a handful of sections that were glorious, buff singletrack.  Fun, but definitely not a trail I'd put on my Top-10 Rides in CeeBee list.  

I emerged on the road a mere 2 hours after I started the trail.  6 pm.  I still had a full hour of daylight!  I started to boogie home dreaming about what I was going to make for dinner.  As I crested Jacks, the only spot on the ride with cell reception, my phone dings. 'Where are you?' asks Chris via text.  

 

I was confused.  My SPOT was still transmitting, I wondered if maybe he'd missed the note I'd left him telling him where I was headed.  I texted him back my location, worried that he'd been worrying about me and continued to roll.  At the next cell reception spot, the phone dings again, 'Still in town, beer and pizza at the Brick?'  And here I was worried that Chris was worried about me.

I boogied to the Brick and told Chris about the trail while inhaling a BBQ chicken pizza.  He was relieved. It was exactly as he'd suspected, but now that I'd gone to go check it out and confirmed his suspicions, he didn't have to go out to ride it.

I guess you never know until you go.  The bucket list is one ride shorter.  My legs are one big ride tired-er.  The snow could come next week, gotta keep going.

Switching Hats

Last Fall, I signed on to help out/coach the Western State Mountain bike team.  I basically flew by the seat of my pants (as I do with most things in life) learning as I went.  I immitated FLC every chance I could.  If they could build an empire, I could too.  I just have to keep reminding myself that Rome wasn't built in a day, and FLC wasn't either.

Last year, I was still trying to train for 24-hour Worlds and had to leave for the week before Collegiate Nationals to go race in Oz.  I tried my hardest to balance my 'Athlete who's spending a lot of money to race on the other side of the world' hat with my 'Coach who's trying to build a team' hat.  I ended up feeling like I didn't give me all to Worlds and that I didn't give my all to coaching.  I hate half-assing things that I care about.  This year, one of the big motivations for skipping 24-hour Nats was so I could focus on the 'Coaching' hat.  I didn't want to be spending our group rides wondering how they were going to affect my training.  I didn't want to have to spend my weekends worried about being on my feet in the feed-zone or having to squeeze in rides between races.  It feels better this way, I may make this a multi-year habit.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about how coaches build teams.  When I was in middle/high school, my swim team got a new coach.  He revamped everything and many of the older kids, disliking the sudden change, quit and moved to the other team in town.  3 years later, our team had people qualifying for Olympic Trials and people from around the country moving to the Bubble to train.  How did he do it?  When I first started racing collegiate mountain bikes, FLC fought tooth and nail against CU for the national title.  Their road team was a non-factor.  Now they outnumber any other team in the conference 2:1 and barring terrible luck, I'd place my bets on them winning Nationals this October for D1.  How did they do it?

I read a book earlier this spring on talent hotbeds.  It talked a lot about how they arose out of the strangest places but all had various factors in common.  You'd think it'd be easy to turn Gunnison into a talent hotbed for mountain biking.  You'd think.

Then on a similar note, what makes an individual a good coach?  I made two girls cry this weekend.  I also witnessed some incredible rides from the team, both from the guys and the gals.  I spent a lot of time thinking about my old swim coach.  He had some pretty major character flaws, but he was the master of getting the best out of each of his athletes.  I remember getting in trouble for not knowing the world record for the mile and him asking how I was planning on breaking it if I didn't even know what it was.  (Note: I was a terrible swimmer.  I made one state qualifying cut in my sub-illustrious career and was thrilled.) But maybe it was just that atmosphere, that we were training to be the best, to break world records, to win Olympic medals, that made everyone work that hard and push each other that hard each and every practice.  

 

Dunno.  I'm working on it.  Suggestions are always welcome.

Sneaker Ride

It started up Cement Creek with some of my favorites... in good color.

Climbing, descending, and up the valley on the newly re-routed Cement Creek Trail

Topping out Star Pass.

I have been wanting to traverse the ridge to the summit of Star Peak ever since I first rode star pass.  Today I brought my 'sneakers', ditched the bike and went for it.  

I was worried about a crux I spotted.  How to get through this cliff...

Poking around the mountain there usually is a weak spot.  

Fantastic climb up a knife ridge once through the crux!

Summit 13571 ft.  

Looking at the Gendarmes of Castle Peak 

After a Careful descent, it was time to rip down trail 400 on the bike.  

Death Pass

You know you are a bike rider when you are out for 9 hrs and all there is in the pantry when you get home is mac n' cheese and hotdog buns.  Yes, there is a few cold ones in the fridge too.  

Cheers,

Chris

Being

Double Rainbow

No words tonight.  

Cheers,

Chris

 

 

Evening Ride

Evening ride down some sweet trails off the backside of the mountain that I have never ridden, and on the world famous Trail 401.   Great time to ride 401.

When we got back from Europe I was out of landscaping work, and luckily I found work painting houses pretty quick.  Turns out my boss is in a ski movie.  He runs his own painting company and skis all winter. At about 1:45 in the trailer there are some shots from Crested Butte on Axtell and Owen.  It's a lower budget film about skiers in Colorado.  

Happy weekend, enjoy this fine weather!

Chris

 

 

 

Going Places

In my last semester as an undergrad, I had a meeting with my advisor.  He asked me 'So what are you planning on doing with this highly coveted engineering physics degree?' (I may be putting some words in his mouth, but you get the idea)  I answered that I wanted to ride my bike.  I wanted to race on the professional road circuit.  (Yes, I was a roadie once. Please forgive me, for I have sinned...)  

 

He told me that riding my bike wasn't going to take me anywhere in life. 

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd followed his advice of giving up bike riding after college and followed a more traditional life trajectory.  What would I have done yesterday, a normal Thursday in the middle of Fall?  Would I have woken up in a city, made breakfast in a house with a white picket fence for my 2.4 kids, fed my small dog, put on proper clothing and gotten into my car to drive to an office job?

 

Instead, I did this.

 

My bike may not take me places in the world of fame and fortune, but I'd place my bets that it takes me places that others can't even dream of.

I like to think that having the ability to dream a big ride up over beer and pizza the night before and then being able to go out and do it, a mere 56 miles and 10,000 ft of vertical over 9 hours, has some value in this world.  Maybe.

She's Crazy

There are a few women in this world who I feel like I've made a deep connection with.  Who I get and who get me.  Who I can not see for 6 months, or a year, or longer, and when we get back together, it's like no time has passed.  The funny part about all these women is that either before I knew them, or when I knew them slightly, I remember thinking, 'She's crazy.  How cool!'

When Chris and I have friends in town who want to go ride, it's always a little bit of a debate.  Would they enjoy one of our adventures (many don't, believe it or not) or would we be better off doing a more standard 401-esque ride with minimal hike-a-bike, nagivation, and bushwacking.  

The beauty of my crazy friends is that it's never an issue.  Cat thought it was funny when I asked her if she minded a bit of hike-a-bike, so using Chris and Crinny's ride for inspiration, we headed to the high country to a trail I'd never ridden.  Chris and I had talked about it all summer, but now that we're not going to have the same day off until November, we both took it upon ourselves to do this ride on our own.  

Cat had homework to do at night, and I had to leave for Gunni mid-afternoon so we got a bright and early start at 10am, which was a solid three hours earlier than the previous day.  I was impressed with us.

Chris had mentioned that he wasn't sure I'd like this ride because it tends to hug a 600 ft cliff and, as a card carrying member of Team Vertigo, I'm not a huge fan of hights and exposure.  Plus, there was some bike-aneering, make-your-own-adventure riding through brush, and steep rutted descending.  Then, after 3,000 feet of climbing/pushing, a couple miles of ridge riding, we only got a 1,500 foot descent and had to do the majority of the rest of the descending on a dirt road.

It was so worth it.

 

It's not a ride I'd take everyone on.  It's good to know there are other crazies out there who also thought it was a hoot.

Morning Commute

 Fog and Frost on the pedal in.  Painting houses all day and watching the colors change wandering what winter will bring.  Word on the street another La Nina year....

Cheers,

Chris