Second Ride 2008

I got another ride in today in the 60 degree sunshine. Rode a loop east of Boulder on the flats with Ramin. 30 Miles in 1:20, we took it super easy. My legs are a little sore, but my arss is killing me. It'll be a painful couple weeks re-conditioning my "sit-bone" to the bike saddle!

I have might have found a new team for this year. I should know by next week what team and frame I will be racing on.

First Ride 2008

I posted yesterday that if the weather was nice and I' felt up to it I'd get back on the saddle and go for a bike ride today. Well, I'm about 58 days behind in starting my 2008 cycling training schedule, but I finally started today. Sickness, head injuries, and poor weather have all delayed me starting training officially which isn't a big deal because the shape of my 2008 race season is very unclear at the moment. I'm still deciding on what bike to race and if I'm going to race for a team or race solo. I'm semi-committed to Dean, but not really!

It was good to get my heart rate up and turn the cranks a little. I was amazed at how much fitness I've lost, but like always, I expect it will return sooner than I think. Doug and I rode out Highway 36 to Lyons and back. Just under 26 miles in 1:20 for an average speed of 20 mph. It was a good break-in-the-body ride. If the weather is nice and my sickness stays at bay I'm going to do it again tomorrow!

Snowy Mesa, Saturn, and a KC-135

I think I'm slowly winning the battle against my sickness. It's hanging on, but I'm getting stronger by the day. I'm finally able to work, which is healthy for the mind and wallet. It's a fine line between working which, runs me down and getting enough rest on my time off to avoid getting sick again. I've been disciplined so far and stayed off the bike and tried to rest. If the weather is warm and I get good sleep tonight I might go for a light ride tomorrow. Here are a few sights I encountered in my travels last week.

Snowy Mesa. I love the contrast of snow and desert.



Mouth of the Grand Canyon



Glen Canyon Dam



Saturn -See the rings. Okay, even at 38,000 feet you can't see the rings - it's lens shake.



Air Force KC-135 aerial tanker going the opposite direction.

Mountain Lion Staring Contest

Doug sent me this recently and I thought it was blog worthy. I've had one known and I'm sure dozens of unknown mountain lion encounters, but they were nothing like this excerpt from Craig Childs latest book, The Animal Dialogues: Uncommon Encounters in the Wild. According to Craig, Mountain Lions are now the number 1 North American human predator.

"I am one day by foot from the New Mexico border into Arizona’s remote Blue Range. A mountain lion is at the water hole. It is a male, well over 100 pounds, lapping water from the edge. It does not know that I am here. I come on it from behind, staring a beeline down its long tail, which is laid flat against the ground. An early-morning breeze moves in my direction, taking my scent behind. I let down a 60-pound pack without making a sound. I focus binoculars to get a good look.The mountain lion has been in battle. A long, old scar follows its right side. The males are territory defenders. They will fight over land and come out with ragged ears and torn skin. It looks healthy, though—a strong, agile lion, hunched to the water so that its shoulder blades form shields around its back. When it stands, it makes a careful visual sweep. I am blending into my background, and its eyes swing by mine, not lingering on me at all. It is keyed to motion and scent, and nothing registers. I look like a rock, a stump, something simple and expected. Even so, a shiver pounces down my back.In America’s suburbs and parks, mountain lions can be aggressive around people. Attacks are up. In fact, it is the mountain lion that has become most likely to make a meal of a human in North America. Close encounters in the deep wilderness are a different category. Concerning humans, lions out here avidly and skillfully avoid them. This is their territory, and I feel safe enough. I am dealing with precepts I think I understand.The lion at the water hole eventually walks away, into a mesh of junipers that leads into the ponderosa forests and the high desert beyond. I wait for several minutes, then walk to the water to get a good identification, to take measurements and write it all down. The wind has shifted a few times, distributing my scent all over. But if I know the mountain lion, it is half a mile away by now, getting well out of my range.At the water are many tracks in the mud, like sentences overlapping. I move to get a close look. Before I am on the ground, I scan the perimeter. At first I see nothing.Then it is there, behind me. It has circled to my back. Eyes are in the shadows of a couple of low junipers, 30 feet away.I move slowly, deliberately. The lion is probably startled by me. It may be hiding, like a rabbit that is nearly stepped on before it leaps away. But its eyes are not frozen like a hiding rabbit’s, and its body is not bunched, ready for a line drive in the opposite direction. I am being observed.I watch the lion, taking advantage of my proximity to study its features. I am expecting it to bolt any second, to dive into the woods and vanish. Remember this, I think. You will never be this close again.Instead of running, it stands. Without a pause for thought, it moves out from under the shadows so that both of us are in the same sunlight. We make clear, rigid eye contact. It begins walking straight toward me.My heartbeat lodges into my throat. My adrenaline dumps. All of it. No dilemma in the lion’s eyes; it stares me down as if I am prey backed against a water hole. Even with a slow, lucid gait, it is quickly in my world. It looks up at me from under its brow so that its head is down and its eyes are shelved by a shadow. A stalking stare. The distance is closed in seconds.The cat is going to attack me. I pull a knife off my right hip. It has a 5-inch blade. One claw against eight claws; hesitation against instinct. The advantage is not mine.Mountain lions are known to take down animals six, seven, and eight times their size. Their method: attack from behind, clamp onto the spine at the base of the prey’s skull, snap the spine. The top few vertebrae are the target, housing respiratory and motor skills that cease instantly when the cord is cut.Cats have attacked people who have been crouched, or small, or running the other way. Even in zoos they sometimes charge at the cage when children come by. Parents are often asked to hold their children close as they pass cages, to break up the image of fast little kids making random movements. Mountain lions have stalked people for miles. One woman survived an attack and escaped by foot on a road. The lion shortcut the road several miles farther and killed her from behind.Bone is rarely ever broken. Rather, the teeth slide between vertebrae and open the spine surgically. Cat teeth are heavily laden with nerves so that the animal can actually feel its way around the spine and find the area for incision.The mountain lion keeps walking straight at me. A powerful voice in me says, Run! Find shelter! The voice wants the mountain lion magically gone, it wants me to flee to my pack and bunch into a tiny ball. The lion is pushing my button, scrambling the innards of my instinct. Never have I felt fight or flight like this. My only choice, the message going to the thick of the muscle in my legs, is to run. I’ve got to get out of here before it’s too late.What I do, instead, is not move. My eyes lock onto the mountain lion. I hold firm to my ground and do not even intimate that I will back off. If I run, it is certain. I will have a mountain lion all over me. If I give it my back, I will only briefly feel its weight on me against the ground. The canine teeth will open my vertebrae without breaking a single bone.Some of the larger animals push their faces toward an attacking lion. It can’t get anything at the face. It has got to have a clear shot at the neck, from behind or the sides. It tries to intimidate and push the panic button with this kind of doubtless approach so the prey will turn. When the prey runs, the kill is sealed.The mountain lion begins to move to my left, and I turn, keeping my face on it, my knife at my right side. It paces to my right, trying to get around on my other side, to get behind me. I turn right, staring at it.Earlier I would have raised my arms and barked at it, but the lion had come too fast. Now any motion could snap the space we have. My stare is about the only defense I have. People working alone in the mangrove jungles at the mouth of the Ganges River in India sometimes wear the mask of a face on the back of their head. John Seidensticker, who studied the social organization of mountain lions, suggests that humans began to stand upright in order to more vividly show their faces to aggressive cats and to appear less like four-legged prey.Most of my body has stopped. All that is left are my eyes, my right hand with the knife, and my ability to turn. The lion comes left again. When I rotate, it stops walking. It has got me in a stationary, tight stare from 10 feet. Its nose is moist and pale. Eyes made of gray and green. And that is where I see all of the energy, bound up and ready to flush into the body for one quick jump.If it jumps, the knife goes into the rib cage. All my energy will be in the thrust. The lion may reconsider after that. But what shape will I be in after the single blow its entire body is built to deliver? Fifty million years of evolution to make an animal designed to kill on the first move. It could be that I will get in a good knife jab, but what will its jaws do around my face and throat? What will its claws do? And mountain lions are known to come back. They do stalk. Will I be holding my skin together with hands and bandanas when it finds me again?It is looking for the approach. It looks one way, just a couple of inches to one of my sides, and then it looks to the other side. I won’t give it leeway, moving my head to keep its eyes on mine. There have been cases in which a lion cleared 20 feet in about a second when eye contact was broken.It steps to my right, coming clear around, and I synchronize myself with it. It is not focused on my knife, my body, or even my eyes. It is moving intently at some point through me, inside of me, perhaps the single point where life itself is seated. It has happened so often that a mountain lion has launched straight at a hunter or a field biologist who has a sidearm leveled at its head. The mountain lion does not stop and is shot point-blank, dead. Why is that? A coyote or a bear will know when a person has a gun, and will often behave much differently. But the mountain lion is a creature with too great a nature to see a gun or a knife. It is so focused that the rest of the world goes silent.The distance between us increases slightly. The lion walks toward the water hole. Until now I haven’t had the room to take a good posture without triggering an attack. It is customary to throw up your arms and make noise when encountering an aggressive animal at a fair distance. Or to put your hands in your pockets and flare out your coat, making yourself look 100 pounds heavier. It is an old bluff trick. Usually works. Now that it is 15 feet away, I lift my hands in the air. All the way so that my knife is an arm’s length over my head, looking like something too unusual and unknown for a mountain lion to bother with.It doesn’t work. The mountain lion swings back and comes straight at me again. My arms drop. Fast. Right to my sides. Ice comes down my back. The lion stops there, close again. I have never been watched like this.It begins a long, winding route, still trying to come from behind. It covers a great deal of space, going back and forth. There is a seamless continuum from the surrounding world, through the lion’s eyes, into its heart, and back to the world. I am somewhere in there, holding steady like a rock planted beside the water hole. It watches me closely as it leaves. It walks into the forest and I no longer see it.I stand for a few minutes, staring at the forest.I never saw the lion again. For the next week of hiking, though, I could see it all around me. I slept half awake. When I came to water, I gathered it quickly and retreated. I kept my eyes trained into the shadows, waiting, seeing a mountain lion wherever I looked."

Hiking the Appalachian Trail in 1996

Sickness update: I'm getting better slowly. My sinus infection is holding on with a vengeance, but the antibiotics and steroids are helping. I'm also supplementing with "Kick-ass Immune Booster" and lots of airborne. The hard part for me is to be disciplined and take it easy, not repeating the pattern of running myself down now once I feel a little better and then getting sick again. The Ear, Nose, and Throat Doctor offered to nick holes in my ear drums, saying that the small holes would allow my ears to clear, but I'm going to hold off on that for know. Just the though gives me goose bumps.

Hiking the Appalachian Trail in 1996

In addition to hours trying to tune the previously mentioned RC Helicopter I've also kept my "sick-self" busy by scanning old pictures. I came across these from a backpacking trip I put together on the Appalachian Trail (AT) when I was 19 in April of 1996.

At the time I had backpacked before, but never far or with the right equipment. On previous trips, I used a wicker pack-basket my Dad lent me from the 1920's, which needless to say, didn't get me very far. By this trip I had a proper pack, boots, food containment, tent, and sleeping bag. I'd spent most of the winter doing solo trips to local camp spots on the AT, but never went very far. For this trip Adam, Mike, Chris, and I made up the crew. The goal would be to hike all 40 miles of the AT through the state of Maryland. 40 miles is a walk in the park for me now as a seasoned (although injured) endurance athlete, but back then I was an long haired, out of shape smoker who was still just beginning to find his rugged-individualist side. Everyone else was about the same fitness and experience level.

Mistake Number 1: Excessive water. Even though I had a water filtration system I was bent on making sure everyone carried enough water for the entire duration of the trip. It was early April and the temperature hovered around freezing the entire time. Why I thought we needed gallons of water in addition to my water filter along the route through the lush, far-from-arid climate of the Maryland woods is a hilarious mystery to me now. It did mean starting out on our 5 day trip with 80lb packs, already a handicap for fitness challenged hikers.

Mistake Number 2: Poor planning. We stared in Harper's Ferry, VW and planned to hike the AT north to the Pennsylvania state line. To get into Maryland the trail went across a railroad bridge spanning the Potomac River. We didn't find out that this bridge was closed due to flooding until we got the giant gate across the trail at the bridge entry. That meant an additional 8 mile backtrack and detour along a busy, shoulderless, two lane highway through Virginia. To get across the river we had to squeeze our bulging packs along the shoulder of two narrow road bridges. This was probably the most hazardous part of the trip.

Mistake Number 3: Quiting smoking. Adam and I decided to quit smoking the day before we left. Mike didn't smoke, but Chris did and had brought a carton of cigarettes. Adam and I lasted about 24 hours before it got ugly and we gave in. At first Chris wasn't keen on sharing his cigarettes which made for a few tense hours staring at each other across the fire! Eventually on the 4th day, the trail crossed a road and Mike and I spent all morning hiking down to the nearest town so I could buy cigarettes and he could buy junk food. It was a pathetic addiction that was hell to quit!

After spending most of day one trudging along side the highway and narrow bridges for hours we finally got to the AT. It climbed from the river bank up a steep grade out of the Potomac River Valley onto the South Mountain Range. We were so exhausted at the end of the climb that we gave up on trying to make it to the first campsite. We pitched our tents on the side of the trail as it got dark, it started to snow.

Alex, Chris, and Adam on the Road Bridge

Potomac River Valley

Alex and Chris Looking Down at the River

Adam Peeking out of the Tent at the End of Day 1

The next day we hiked mostly in snow to the next campsite where we met an old man. He was an experienced through-hiker who had an odd trail name which, for the life of me, I just can't remember. Something like Rabbit, or Map Man... He gave us some tips and told us about a 5 star restaurant up further up the trail that had a special room in the back just for hikers. We camped for the night and feasted when we discovered a trove of junk food Mike had hidden in his pack. Twizzlers, Star Crunches, and Twinkies, Yum! It was a high fructose corn syrup delight that made the cold and snow a little easier to deal with. I'll just say, at 19 my diet wasn't quite as healthy as it is today!

Hiking Day 2

Chris, Old Man ????, Alex

Day 3 was a mission to get the 5 Star Restaurant, I think it was called The Old South Mountain Inn. The 80lb packs, cigarettes, and previous night's twizzlers and star crunches took a heavy toll on our progress. It was cold and snowy, as we entered the woods outside of Middletown, Maryland. Even though it wasn't filmed there, Middletown was supposed to be the location of the movie The Blair Witch Project. The gloomy day did give the woods an erry feeling. We made it to the Old South Mountain Inn just in time to get the last table of the night. You could see our collective stench overcome the other patrons as we were escorted to the back room. Nothing compliments junk food, cigarettes, and hiking like a heavy dinner of steak and potatoes. Ugh... The tent was a symphony of methane and sulfur smells that night.

Adam, Alex, Chris in the "Blair Witch Woods"

The Old South Mountain Inn

Morning of Day 4

I spent the first half of day 4 hiking down the highway with Mike to guy more cigarettes and junk food. Adam and I had ravaged Chris's carton and the situation was going to get critical if I didn't re-stock the supply. Three smokers alone in the woods without cigarettes would not have been a good thing for anyone. We probably would have killed Mike first! By the time I made it back up the mountain the morning was shot. Everyone was loosing their motivation which wasn't helped by a severe snow storm forecasted to move in the next evening. We had hiked a gaping 30 miles, although the cigarette detour added about 8 for Mike and me. We decided to finish the trip by hiking to and camping at the most popular spot on the AT in Maryland, Annapolis Rocks.

Losing Motivation

Annapolis Rocks and Girls

We got there just in time for sunset and were greeted with the presence of females, Yes! They were out for a day hike. I don't remember their names, but I do remember the feeling of mutual adolescent fear and joy that overcame me whenever I saw an attractive girl at the age of 19. I was still struggling to learn how to talk to girls as an adult and outside of the social structures of high school and junior college. I don't think I was very successful, but at least the sunset was nice! We spent the night reminiscing about our 4 days on the AT. Although we had failed our mission of hiking the state of Maryland on the AT, we did relish in the accomplishment of making it 30 miles. We spent that night in the Annapolis Rocks trail Shelter and got picked up by my Mom the next morning.

Sunset

Morning Day 5, Annapolis Rocks AT Shelter

I eventually did conquer all of Maryland's 40 miles and once I quit smoking was able to pull off a couple long-haul solo backpacking trips. I think my longest was just over 180 miles before I ran out of time off of work. Over the years, my fitness increased and I learned many basic outdoor skills which would later benefit me in Adventure Racing. In my last Adventure Race (before the knee injury) we managed to cover 30 miles in just over 13 hours as opposed to the 120 hours it took us back in 1996!

Sickness Number 4

Sickness Number 4 of the season got me last week. It's pretty much the same sinus infection I've had since Mid-December. I've spent the last week filling a trashcan a day with tissues.

It sucks. 4 Doctors visits and a visit today to an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist haven't yielded many answers. Life is on hold for me until I can get over this. I did get a new toy to keep me busy and torment Molly with!

Okay tormenting Molly with this way too dangerous for both of us, so she'll have to watch from a far.

A Memorial for Bob

My friend Bob passed away last weekend. Bob was a very influential person in my path to becoming an adult and a spiritually healthy person. He led by example, called things like he saw them, practiced tough love at times, but was always willing to help other people - Most importantly he was a good friend. I've always tried to see him and the rest of the "Monday night" crew when at home. Bob along with the other Bob and Lee put together an anual rafting trip down the Cheat River Canyon in West Virginia. Most of my Bob pics are from over the years padding the Cheat. Here are a few.

Bobs memorial service was Saturday back in Maryland. I couldn't make it, so I decided to honor Bob in my own way, in Colorado. I woke up early, printed out his picture, loaded up the dogs, and made my way to the Shadow Canyon Trail head. My plan was to hike to the top of South Boulder Peak, 8549 feet, and "let Bob go". South Boulder Peak is the highest peak in the Eastern Boulder hills. It has stunning 360 degree views of Boulder and Denver to the East and the peaks of the Continental Divide and Rocky Mountain National Park to the West. It would be the perfect spot for a memorial.

South Boulder Peak (HDR)

Last night a low pressure system moved through bringing wind speeds of 70 mph. It was still gusting to about 30mph in the flatlands this morning when I started out. The 3000 foot climb to the peak was grueling, the trail was covered in snow and the winds were relentless. I kept a good pace for the first 1.5 miles, but once I got into the steep Shadow Canyon climb I started to bonk. My weeks of inactivity fighting a sinus infection have taken a tool on my base fitness level. In the canyon the trail went from steep to vertical and the snow depth doubled. I was nervous about slipping and hitting my head, as it's only been a week since my concussion. The doctor told me even the slightest bump could cause permanent brain damage, especially in the first month. I motivated myself by thinking about Bob. Dragging myself up an icy canyon was least I could do to honor his years of service.

Alex Bonking, Dogs Relaxing

I pushed through, one snowy rocky ledge at a time and eventually I reached the saddle at about 8000 feet. I was at the top of the ridge and wind speed was up to a steady 40mph. The snow and winds did do some good, I didn't see a soul once I started up the canyon. I had the whole mountain to myself. I put on another layer and headed up the ridge line to South Boulder Peak. As I neared the top I was post-holing in about 3 feet of snow. It was great! Just shy of the peak I had to cross a steep boulder field. The snow made it treacherous by hiding the patchwork of deep cracks between the boulders. Every step needed to be probed first to make sure it was solid. At the first big crack Diogee and Sugar had had enough and refused to go any further. I understood so I leashed them up and they bedded down in the snow while Molly and I stubbornly pressed on. I did managed to fall in a couple cracks, but they weren't deep. Alas, I was at the top!

Trail (HDR)

Boulder Field

On Top

Picture of Bob

Views from the Top

Stitched

The wind was a sustained 45mph, but that was good because it would carry the picture of Bob far. I anchored myself on the peak and let my heart rate slow down. After a few moments I said a few prayers, thanked God for having Bob in my life and let him go. The strong winds ripped the picture from my hands. As I drifted into the horizon I caught a glimpse of Bob looking back at me. In a few seconds it was gone. After a few more moments of silence I headed back down. It was a contrast to find peace in such a harsh environment. Once across the boulder field I felt a huge sense of relief. I bedded down in the snow with the dogs and had an apple.

Cheers Bob...

Snowboarding Headache

My brother Andrew and some friends were in town last weekend for a snowboarding trip. I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to drive up the mountain with them due to a sinus infection I've been fighting for weeks. Luckily by mid-week I was finally able to clear my sinuses and ears to enable them to equalize the change in pressure. It would be my first time boarding this winter so I made a mental note to take it easy. Thursday we were treated to a clear, sunny day at Copper Mountain. There was about 12" of new snow that fell in the days before, but it was completely tracked out. The best snow was in the back bowls and with a little hiking you could find fresh powder.

Backside of Copper Mountain

Joe (red), Andrew (desert camo), Casey (white), Alex (green)

Friday, Jo along with John and Ally from Denver joined us and we headed to Beaver Creek. It snowed all day and we were treated to some of the best snowboarding I've ever had in Colorado. It wasn't crowded and the snow was fresh, both rare for a resort in Colorado. We had some epic tree runs and lots of laps down the bowl in knee deep powder. Jo scored a new snowboard on Craigslist and was ripping on it, it's so cool to have a girlfriend that you don't have to wait for. Overall, it was an epic day of boarding with a great crew until the last run.

Jo in the Trees

Andrew in the Trees

Alex in the Trees

On the last run Andrew and I were decided to race down the bowl. He's a better snowboarder than me, but my board is super stiff faster than his. I caught him as the bowl drained into a cat track near the bottom. It was the only section of the hill that was hard packed. We hit the track at full speed, I tucked into his draft and closed the gap quickly. My plan was to use his draft to slingshot me by and pass on his left. It worked perfect, so perfect I thought I would ignore the mental note I made earlier and pass super close. Bad decision!

My last memory is as I was passing Andrew, parallel and slightly ahead on his left. I came to in a daze to a huddle of concerned faces staring down at me. I was laying on my back, head-downhill about 100 feet down the cat track. Andrew had been knocked out too, but he seemed to recover quickly. I've been knocked out before, but never this bad. Once I woke up I just couldn't clear my head, my vision was blurry, I felt nauseous, and my skin was pale. I must have looked bad because everyone was super concerned. I took their advice and let the Ski Patrol take me down the mountain on a gurney to the clinic in the base lodge.

Free Ride Down the Mountain

All I wanted to do was go back to sleep, but obviously this was not allowed. I was treated for a concussion, although, I was coherent and could answer all the questions asked of me. The headache and nausea were the worst initial, but by Saturday my neck was completely inflamed from whiplash. I woke up Saturday with a black eye and spent all day in bed in pain. I left the mountains with Jo on Sunday morning and started to feel better by mid-day. I've been taking it easy since then, allowing my body and mind to heal.

We determined later than the tail of my board must have just kissed the nose of Andrew's as I passed which turned us both to the right. As we turned we both caught our back edges slamming the back of our heads into the hard pack. We both had helmets on and I would estimate our speed at the time of impact at least 35mph. I'm completely humbled and embarrased by my stupidity. I've never been one to take such uncalculated risks. It was just a stupid decision to pass Andrew so close as such a high rate of speed. For those of you that know me, save your breath - I'm harder on myself than any of you.