I'm BACK(bone)

It was the best of times,

it was the worst of times,

but somehow, it was all worth it.

14:25. Everything came together; except for a lack of acclimitization, gnarly blisters, and sunburn on the back of my knees (!), nothing could have been improved upon.

Report and video to follow.

Nervous

There's no way around it, my gut's in a mild twist, and there is no other reason. At least I slept well last night, so unless I do something really silly like forget my shoes, I'll be fine tomorrow.

Yep, that will be all. See you next week.

Stupid bikes

Running a two sport peak and taper is not an easy thing to do. It's nice that training for hiking necessitates vastly less acute fitness demands. Nonetheless, Saturday will be a 15 or so hour day, and that demands a good reservoir, which can only be had my rest. Sunday I got in a really, really high quality interval session on the bike, Monday a good hike, yesterday lots of recovery work, and today a final high intensity bike workout. Easy toodling for the next two days, race Saturday, then recover, with one or maybe two good intensity rides next week before I hit the road south. I'm happy with my plans and how they are going.

Of course, between the short training hours and generally lacksidaisical employment situation, I've been a bit twitchy, and when I'm like that things tend to HAPPEN, for better or worse.

Two days ago I attacked the bike situation. Since the Lenz arrived two years ago, I've never actually gotten a proper mountain wheelset for the Karate Monkey. The rear wheel has been the Open Sport-Surly flip flop I originally got for my fixie commuter. When, last month, my shitty, redished 27" commuter rear wheel died (it worked for 10 months while massively out of true), I was back in the almost perpetual state of having one more bike total than I had functional bikes. The road rim has held up amazingly to all the abuse of the past two years, but it leaves a lot to be desired. It's also no longer ok to not have a humble, not expensive and obviously so townie bike for Missoula (it was when I was walking everywhere as training), so the Open Sport went back on the Takara fixie/townie/commuter, and the Karate Monkey is a sad frame with parts hanging in the basement.

Why?

The next major purchase will be a proper singlespeed wheelset. But what to get? Ideally I'll delace and use the front Surly hub I've got on an A719 now. Rear will take a freewheel, and bolt on with a hex wrench. Likely a Paul, though Phils are hard to pass up. Should the rims be tubeless? Fat? Light? Really, really fat? Overkill and bulletproof? Flows? Kris Holm?

I also had a nice tubeless misadventure. I like to learn by doing. Doh.

To keep myself out of trouble, and in addition to geeking on Tour media, I've been surfing the net in the classic, aimless fashion, finding some relevant things, and some that are a bit less so:

Life. Ahh.

Half year review

This morning I headed up to Carlton Ridge as the penultimate test spin before the Devil's Backbone 50 this weekend. The four miles and 2400' of vertical took 51 minutes at a strong but not maximal pace, a good sign. In many ways this is the first race of the year for me. I weenied out of the first two for various reasons, some good, some less so. I'm content with things as they are, and have a bit of anxiety over the fact that it's been 13 months since I've "raced." Do I still have it? Only one way to find out.

It was nice and chilly up above 8000'. Always a nice setting.

Which brings up the issue of what to wear this weekend. The vast majority of the course is between 9 and 10k, and there will be quite a bit of snow. The forecast is looking up, but still variable.

Normally I'd wear Capilene boxer briefs (very useful for chaffage) and shorts, a Capilene or wool t-shirt, and carry a long sleeve Capilene, rain jacket, light powerstretch gloves, and a Capilene hat. Still probably what I'll bring, in the Talon 11, along with GPS, camera, emergency kit, headlamp, dromedary, some mini-Clif Bars, twizzlers, and some sandwiches. The out and back course has a single aid station at the turn around, where I'll re-up water and eat some PBJ. No need for a drop bag, as when you hike rather than run, a larger pack is no big deal. On the feet will be mid-weight Smartwools, LaSportiva Fireblades, and spandura scree gaiters. Shades and a visor round out the kit, along with my crucial Suunto watch.

If it's really cool and windy I might wear pants, but that's unlikely. One big change is the rain jacket; I almost never carried it in Arizona, but during any Montana season but deep winter it's a necessity. Which brings me to the traditions I've established for half year reviews here: the weekend list, and top five bits of gear.

I'm not going to do either. I'm not inclined to do the weekend thing, in no small part because it would be really hard to do. I haven't been living for the weekend any more, haven't been traveling as much, and so forth. All of which means two things: I immersed myself in school in exactly the way I wished, and I've been engaging with my goal of doing more exploring right out the back door. I still think traveling is a crucial ritual to engender creativity and happiness, and still think the Colorado Plateau is the best, but I'm also looking forward to more Yellowstone rain storms, and am psyched to ski again this winter.

So I'm pleased with 2009 thus far, though I do want to get better at using my time. I run out of mental energy, between studying hard and training hard, faster than I run out of physical energy. I could have brought much better form to both the Rim Ride and KMC if I had been more deliberative, even though the first function of playing outside for the first third of this year was stress relief. I hope to better balance all that this fall, through what will without question be the hardest semester of my life.

I do have a few pieces of gear that deserve special mention, though it's been the old standbys that have really distinguished themselves. Both bikes have been great to revisit, the Black Diamond Firstlight is still, after five years of existence, close to the ideal tent for me, and so forth.

The real revelation this year has been making my own stuff. My pack performed great this past week, and the frame bags I've made for both bikes are lovely. Add to that the empowerment I've felt to keep tweaking factory stuff to better suit my needs, and the whole deal has been a great experience. The next project, which is quite intimidating in it's complexity: designing and making a seatbag.

The other thing worth mentioning is my trekking poles. Superlight, simple, one piece poles are a revelation, a huge step forward, and already an absolute necessity for hard hiking. Poles generally are like being attached to your pedals, they make a crucial difference when you need it most. Light poles (mine are 6 oz each) to heavy poles are like clipless to power straps. Huge difference. The Gossamer Gear cork grips are the perfect shape, and the cork doesn't get slick or sticky when you sweat. The poles even float. They're the #1 new think thus far this year.

Another thing worth mentioning is the simple sternum buckle whistle. As first I though it was a gimmick on Osprey's part, but based on evidence this past week, it's value as a bear deterrent and warning device is huge. So much so I spent 70 cents at REI today to put a new buckle on the Cold Cold World, so all the packs I use regularly have one. #2 for the year.

The Spraymaster jacket might have to be next. The cut is fantastic, and when that's combined with the stretch it's ideal for biking and hiking with a purpose. I'd rather the hood was like Patagonia's more mountaineering-oriented jackets, big enough for a helmet but cinches down to a bare head, but I can understand the choice to make it smaller. It takes the 3 spot nonetheless.

I'm not going to give out any more just yet. Too many things (Fireblades, my Lake MX 165s, down sweater) that have yet to prove themselves. They'll have the chance soon enough.

Off to keep enjoying summer: grilling Honey-mustard pork chops and playing on the newly installed slackline (more on that soon). Embrace the heat while it lasts.

I can't count

Though it is only a problem in certain circumstances. Doing intervals, for instance, I have a helluva time recalling how many I've done. 1, 2, and 3 are usually pretty solid. Distinguishing 4 from 5 (or 6) gets dicey, and the foundation beyond is questionable. Not really of the most importance, but I'm looking into a little rollodexesque thing to put on the bars.

The best idea

The National Parks version of Monopoly has been around for a while, and this past week we learned, while in a gift shop, that the new versions come with stickers rather than fixed parks. So you can decide which parks get to be Boardwalk and Park Place.

A good topic for trail conversation.

As with any discussion, one must first define the terms. Circumscribe the scope of the conversation, to keep things from getting too unruly. For instance, the obvious candidate for number one is Utah Canyons National Park, the designation of which was contemplated in the 30's but never carried out. It would have, in essence, connected Arches with Zion, taking in the San Rafael desert, Cataract Canyon, Maze, Robbers Roost, Capitol Reef, Waterpocket Fold, Escalante, Kaiparowitts, Paunsaugunt, Bryce, Markagunt, and Deep Creek along the way (among others). Maybe with the Paria and Kaibab it could have been connected to the Grand Canyon. Back then no paved roads existed between Moab and Saint George, and the interstate highway had yet to commit pogram against the San Rafael reef.

But that was then, and Yellowstone is now. Yellowstone, along with the crucial wilderness areas surrounding it, comes very close to encompassing an integral ecosystem. This has scientific, ecological, as well as logistical, philosophical, and spiritual implications.

In any case, I decided to eliminate Alaska from the discussion of the merits and scopes of national parks. Alaska plays by a different set of rules (for the moment), and makes things less manageable. Of the 46 parks in the lower 48 (of 58 total) I've been to 34 of them. Ironically, one of the 12 is the only park in my native Ohio (Cuyahoga Valley). I think I have a decent base of authority to speak on this issue.

My picks for the dark blues are Grand Canyon, and Yellowstone.

They are very different places, and very different parks. Yellowstone is so full of water, it hides water's influence. Grand Canyon shows that force better than any other place of which I'm aware. Grand Canyon is very easy to visit, but incredibly hard to see. Yellowstone is a sprawling loop of stupid traffic, yet it's minutia are accessible, and draw almost anyone in. Like Old Faithful.

Everyone should be on a ship passing another, on the ocean, at night. You cannot appreciate the force the cliche once had any other way. So to with that geyser. It's impossible to will away the boardwalks, benches, buildings, and blubbering. But if you could, the surprise of coming across the meadow and seeing the eruption would send you drooling.

Yellowstone embodies the full force of both preserve and protect, and provide for the enjoyment. It's a stunning and stunningly intact place, and it's a royal pain in the ass to visit in summer. M and I spent three long days in the maw of the beast last week, and I hope you can't do that without being moved.

I may not be very good at embracing the invisible-bear jams, quiet desperation of family vacation, and hideous contemporary parkitecture, but I like having breakfast at the Old Faithful Inn.

Inn, not Lodge. Being on the south of OF versus the east is a profound difference.

If we're going to be tourists, then by Pinchot, let us be tourists. In the old new world idiom.

Then we had other things to do, which rained on the parade a bit. The OF backcountry desk had a computer snafu, we couldn't find an open campsite (of the thousands in the park), and the moderate distances were exacerbated by the usual hordes. We finally pulled things together and went to hike Mount Washburn.

Which was very pretty.

The 10k round trip was a long way two decades ago. Today the kind grade of the old road makes appreciating the setting all the easier.

The lookout up top provides architectonic views.

The locals provided diversion.

We did have to find a campsite before starting our backpacking trip the next day, and to ideally provide an idyllic setting for grilling and relaxing. It's the painful necessity of getting a place dialed in for future use. In the Eagle Creek campground north of Gardiner, we checked a major item off the list.

Cheap(ish, $7 a night), accessible, off the radar (sites at 7pm), nicely laid out, and with a superlative view. It even gets all-day sun.

So we could get to work.

We slept, woke up, made breakfast, and got back to work. Drive into the park, drop me off at the starting trailhead (in the rain), M drives to the finishing trailhead (in the rain), and hitched back (rain had stopped). We figured she'd have an easier time than Chris and I did last fall, and she did, though she still counted 32 cars passed before Germans in a rented RV stopped.

I occupied myself taking pictures of flowers. M and MC's mellowing influence.

As soon as we started hiking, the day brightened, and the country rolled back before us.

M's bearanoia is substantial, and seeing a black bear shamble across the road as we drove in wasn't the most straightforward omen. Then, about 5 miles in, we came across this scene.

Where is the bear?

We flushed a very blond black bear out of this swampy patch, and his almost identical coal-black brother soon thereafter. Fortunately, they skittered up the hillside and stayed visible as we made noise and skirted around. M was the picture of composure the whole time. If Obama were out hiking and startled a bear, what would he do?

We did not flush the bears off this elk leg, though signs of life and signs of death were constant throughout the day.

Can't spend an early summer day in Yellowstone and have dry feet.

Some sites were just unique.

This is Crevice Lake. It's not an oxbow or abandoned meander, or at least doesn't look like either. It looks like a crater lake, right next to the Yellowstone River. Which is not a small river, especially not in early July.

We were hiking through one of the few areas in the park below 6000', and the flora reflected that.

Bad weasel (or at least, old or slow).

Our campsite was superlative, and highly recommended.

It facilitated a perfect triangle between bear pole, cooking beach, and tent meadow better than any other in my experience.

We had lapping waves and black sand.

And our own wild rose garden.

Neither of use slept well, M because of disquiet (with the burrs), me because the suspension/torso pad in my homebrew pack was a bit too short. It was a warm and short night, and soon we were on the move. Breakfast in Gardiner on the agenda. Coffee by 0900!

The final five miles of trail through the Black Canyon of the Yellowstone had seen some serious effort in their building.

Human work, perhaps the least unworthy of it's context possible.

This picture required stealth and subterfuge.

This is M strategically posing.

And sweating (or, "glowing") up the last hill to the parking area, right by the Mormon church.

We had a fine breakfast at the Town Cafe, then road walked a mile in to the Rescue Creek TH, and busted out another 8 miles back to the truck at the Blacktail TH. The whole Rescue Creek trail was sublime, flowers run riot, especially in the upper reaches. No pictures, as we were run riot over by rain and mosquitoes in the same stretch, and I was hiking fast, arms flapping widely, cursing forgetting my headnet.

We started at Hellroaring and hiked the classic way into and along the Yellowstone, and our return route as outlined above was a delightful and clever way to minimize the shuttling. A trip worth repeating.

I've made a personal resolution to visit the park every month for the next year, or until we move from Montana. M is sworn to join two out of three outings. Watch this space.

Patagonia fucking rocks

There have been occasions, and uphill in the rain and mosquitos yesterday was one of them, when I am Patagucci'd to the hilt. Shirt, rain jacket, pants, underwear, socks. With another Patagonia jacket in the pack. Sometimes it almost seems silly.

But then things like today happen.

Back in December, my first generation (winter 04-05) used-to-death Ready Mix jacket died. Or rather, the zipper did. The jacket itself was totally fine. It was the original welded seam outdoor piece, and had been around the block more than once. I've had two Patagonia main zipper failures prior, a first gen R2 jacket was replaced for full store credit, and my Houdini had a new zipper installed (for free), and is still going strong. So with ski season just starting, I boxed the jacket up and mailed it off, presuming I'd have it back soon, good as new.

Too bad I didn't send it insured or registered mail. Too bad it got lost.

In the course of trying to track it down, I asked Patagonia if they'd received it. They were very prompt in saying they hadn't, and prompt again in saying a further search had not turned it up. I fessed up to being cheap, as it was 110% my fault, and thanked them for their time.

I got home from my 12 hour shift to find a gift certificate for 3/4 of the original retail price waiting.

Wow.

Not sure why it was sent now, nor the logic behind the amount, but what's relevant is that they didn't owe me a cent.

Gear breaks, especially clothing. Patagonia fits, makes good stuff, is forward thinking and socially responsible, and has THE BEST customer service in the industry. I'm only more of a loyal customer after today.

Yellowstone

Stunning trip. (Much) More later.

PS: Hope Pete's ok.

PPS: Barkley writeup. There is always a progression.

Bite me

Bit the bullet and got four new tires this morning. Tougher than the old ones, hopefully they'll become the second set of tires (on two vehicles) that we'll actually wear out the old fashion way, as opposed to retiring due to rocks, in the last six years.

Off to Yellowstone to hike and backpack for the rest of the week. C ya.

Legendary

Riding.

Eric; it doesn't get much sicker.

Chad, Scott, and Lee; living the dream.

On the other hand, I spent today trying (without success) to get our flat tire fixed. Yeah, it went flat back in Arizona. 'S what I get for putting it off. Our trip to Canada is being put off a bit.

Meh.

Nice ride today

This, I now know, is beargrass. On sunny slopes above 5k there's a lot of it. It's very nice and dramatic, but I'm not really sure why it's called beargrass.

I rode up the Stuart Peak trail to the wilderness boundary at 7k, and hiked on a bit from there. I didn't leave home until after 1300, because I was waiting to talk with my sister before she caught her flight to India, and because I'm lazy and enjoy drinking coffee, eating waffles, and geeking out on all the Sunday political shows. We'll return to two of these subjects in a bit.

It was darn hot climbing in granny gear in the sun, and I was dogging it a bit on the lower reaches today. In retrospect, I'm pretty sure that last night's 10 30 second intervals combined with my poor food plan (PB, nutella, and banana sammiches and plain water) were responsible, but at the time it was difficult to not make a sweeping, systemic diagnosis of weakness.

But I kept going, which is the important part. Soon, through the sweat pouring down from inside my helmet, I saw another cyclist going the other way. I first thought, "how nice that he's slowing down so I don't have to stop," but quickly added "Who the hell else is up here on a bike?"

"I probably know them."

It was Garland, mister sheephead hisself. The only person I know who regularly rides this trail. We chatted briefly about riding, races, and so on, but were each on a mission. He continued descending, I continued crawling upwards, but in a more inspired manner.

The trail itself exceeded all expectations. I had presumed it would involve what all obscurish Missoula trails have, lots of fall line. Instead the whole thing was easily rideable, contoured, bench cut, and smooth. Amazing, and quite a nice way to gain 2k of vert. The switchbacks were even well put.

It's a pity the wilderness boundary is where it is, or that bikes are allowed, as 7k is right where the fun (rocks) starts. The hike over to the lake view was nice anyway.

A surprising amount of snow still up there. You could ski the north face of Stuart all the way to the lake. I was chatting with two hikers on the virtues of bikes, specifically for going downhill. I told them that, 90 minutes after I started walking back, I'd be in Rattlesnake Gardens drinking a soda.

This was not true. I drank my soda and was home in ninety minutes. A smooth, swoopy, 3k+ vert descent is a wonderful thing. I felt great later in the day, and chucked some quick blasts in on the way home. The engine seems like it's coming around.

I need to mention my sister. She's a med student, which we try to not hold against her. But she has a grant to go study rural women's health in northern India this summer, so it's easy. Her research question: does the presence of a maternal grandmother in the home predict lower rates of infant mortality?

The main problem of the day is that I'm still lazy. I like doing stuff, but mainly so that I can feel fine about not doing stuff. I'll to talk more about this later