Beckie has been wanting to stop here for a few years. Its actually a good park for kids, other than being completely exposed and baking in the heat. We did 4-5 short hikes of about a mile each. G walked almost all of them, and Kila could come too.
I love Telluride! It may be my favorite vacation spot. Sure it rained and we couldn’t keep Alana clean for more than 5 minutes, but putting in a bike park with free lifts more than compensates. As did poaching the wifi from the Parks and Recs dept, even if i had to sit in the bathroom to do it.
We set up again in Town Park, then played on the playgrounds.
We wanted a hike at mountain-top since we didn’t really explore up there our last trip, and insanely decided to hoof it up See Forever Trail to the very top of the resort. As we approached the end of the trail, a maintenance worker commented he’d never seen anyone take a jogging stroller up here. Yeah, we’re crazy like that. 1500 vf and 2 miles later, the views were amazing.
The descent was almost as much work as the climb.
Everyone needed a break, and a little refueling.
Restaurant hit the spot, where Kila got all of Alana’s spillage.
It rained all night, and thwarted my plans to get out early for the bike park. Instead we drove Kenga up past the mill above Bridal Veil Falls. The drive was slow and terrifying, but sure beat the walk. Looking over the dashboard during this u-turn was the scariest thing i’ve ever done in a car.
We pushed up the trail until the terrain and impending weather got too worrisome to go further. Beers and picnic were worth it, at least for me and Beckie. G once again was talked off the ledge, and once again had a great time in spite of herself.
pushing the jogging stroller up this was brutal, and surely contributed to me being curled into an aching ball of sciatica upon returning home
stopped on the way down to let me gather my shit from all the switchbacks, and everyone else enjoy Bridal Veil Falls.
Beckie and the kids prepared for the playground, while i armored up for the bike park. G asked me to ride wither her on her spidey-bike around the campground as I was ready to leave. It cost me a run before the oncoming weather, but how could I say no to my favorite little girl wanting to ride bikes?
I finally hit the gondola in full storm-trooper gear, but no pics were taken in the bike park. I’m just not that good. And I was alone. I did 5 runs in 15 minute intervals before the rain drove me off the mountain, my first time ever doing lift-assisted riding. IT WAS AWESOME! My first run was down No Brainer, to get a feel for the hill and the berms. It kinda bored me, which kinda fired me up to hit the black runs. The next four runs i hit Pan Coaster with some dabbles into the World Cup trail, and it was simply awesome. I wadded up on the jumps the first time down, out of practice and seeing them for the first time, but began to get my flow on a few near the bottom. On the third run i hit the big 4 foot drop between the aspen right at the start on Squirrel Catcher, and got progressively bolder at each trial I faced. I was definitely starting to feel the trail, so much that I ate shit off the Squirrel Catcher jump on the 4th run, the promptly pushed back up and pumped before liftoff and hit it clean. This was my pattern, as is typically my pattern: gradual progressions with confidence and humility. I was feeling good, ready to try just about everything but 2 big trials on the World Cup trail, but a strong storm blew in. It was dry at the top, but from the top of the run to the bottom I lost all braking and all control. I went otb on one steep slot I’d nailed 3 times in a row, bashed my helmet against a rock, and knew it was time to go. Alas. Alas and alack. At least my ego got fed enough to feel good about my efforts and still quit while i was ahead.
I froze back down the gondola and quick spin back to camp, froze while repacking my gear, and suffered beckie’s frozen stare while surfing the tubez in the baffroom. We all huddled in the tent, drank a bottle of wine and ate graham crackers, but woke to a beautiful morning.
Today was Beckie’s turn to head out, and she did a long run along the Telluride River Trail. When she returned I headed up for what I hoped would be the jewel of the vacation: up See Forever, then 3500 feet down the backside of the mountain on Wasatch Connector to the Bear Creek Trail and back into town.
I pushed a brutal 10 minutes, .3 miles and 400 feet off the lift, then rode 1.5 miles with .4 miles intermittent pushing to the top. The last big pitch was intimidating, but I was fired up when i hit the summit.
The descent down was scary. The trail was not gnarly like in Arizona, but 6 inches wide through talas with unforgiving dropoffs. I walked what did not look solid, hooted through what did, and sniffed practically every flower down the initial descent.
This basin was just a false bottom, with a huge waterfall soon after it that led to more switchbacks, more exposure, more huge dropoffs to tune out. It was hard to believe there was so much more descending to do. It went on and on and on.
After awhile it felt ridiculous, like I was tempting fate by continuing, each switchback obscured by plants and full of loose or embedded rocks. It wasn’t that hard, but being new to the trail and have trouble seeing what was coming up, i just never knew when i’d be forced to ride loose rocks next to a dropoff or get knocked off line by the encroaching fauna on all sides. I definitely went small, and finally - mercifully - emerged onto the tame Bear Creek trail. Our plan was for everyone to hike up Bear Creek and for us to hopefully meet up. It was joyous when i saw the family rounding a turn in front of me.
We hung out and had a picnic before heading back to camp.
Then up the gondola for more playgrounds and exploring and french fries and beer before a sunset ride on the gondola down the hill.
We left Durango on the Million Dollar Highway, which once again was beautiful and terrifying driving through the clouds. Approaching Silverton, we began driving through a deluge for the better part of an hour.
While we unloaded and dried out every single item in the truck bed, i cursed myself for taking the seatpost off the Heckler and tried to get an inch of water out of the frame. Alana displayed her burgeoning verbal skills, concern for others, and savant-like abilities.
Finally we were off along the Uncompahgre River Trail - G and I on the 2-bike, and Beckie running with Alana.
Alana was climbing up and down this by herself after a few tries while G and I sang Pinto’s Pretty Pony song.
she ventured into new tunnels
G remembered this from 2 years ago. Hard to know if she could actually recall things from when she was 2.5, but she was certain she could.
minutes after this photo, another storm dropped in on top of us. G began to panic and cry. I got her under control, told her we had to suck it up and pedal back to our cabin, that i’ve ridden through many storms, and that panicking was only going to make things worse. It was amazing to witness her get herself under control and focus on getting herself out of trouble. Every 30 seconds I’d tell her how good she was doing, to keep pedaling, to not freak out. She kept repeating “I’m not freaking out, I’m not freaking out.” Many times over the weekend we talked her down while high on a mountain or with a storm on the horizon. I don’t know if she did better or worse than most kids, but it sure seemed to me an accomplishment.
The next morning i launched early to climb the Portland Trail. The climb up out of town was hard from the start, but once I got on the trail it was a tuff but steady climb up to the high point at 9k
I dropped a few hundred feet down the Cascade Trail, then mostly-pushed my bike up the Chief Ouray Mine Trail 1 mile and 1300 vf. I thought I was going to puke, measuring progress 1 switchback at a time, amazed that 5 min would go by and I’d have chomped off 300 feet. That last half mile leveled out at 10k into a very exposed traverse.
From the mine, I got a magnificent view down into Ouray, followed by a methodical dh full of super-tight switchbacks. With few rocks and no cactus, it was no big deal after riding Tom’s Thumb. Sure the CO climbs are brutal and humbling, but the terrain and the climate certainly compensate compared to AZ.
I met Beckie and the girls at the town pool, and was disheartened to learn that the town now required riders on the slides to be 48″ tall! FUCK!!!! Why wasn’t this on the website?!?!? I told the lifeguards that G had ridden these 2 full years ago, and that we specifically planned a few days here so she could ride the slides. They were very sympathetic and polite in hearing me out, but told me the city recently changed its policies as an insurance requirement. Fucking lawyers!
We were told G could ride if she could pass a swim test - a 25 meter lap of both free and backstroke. This was more distance than she’d ever done. She was eager to try, but I was worried about further heartbreak if she crapped out. I wasn’t worried about her fitness, but mentally I really did not think she could do it. She hopped in the water while I swam right next to her and Beckie and Alana stood at the far end. It wasn’t pretty, and I talked to her the whole way, but she made it across the pool. The backstroke was just as ugly, me telling her every stroke to just do a little more, a little more, that hours of fun were just a few strokes away. When she finally touched the wall, it was about the happiest i’ve ever seen her. She was even bumping rocks with the lifeguard.
We rode slides almost non-stop for the next 3 hrs. G probably hit them 50 times, and me probably 25 with her once Alana fell asleep. Had they kept them open longer, she would have gone all night long.
Afterwards at the playground, Alana found some inspiration to push herself too.
Kenga was loaded with every bit of bike and camping gear we owned, and even slowed by child-induced gas station marathons, we made it to Durango in just 8 hours. There was much rejoicing for fresh air and greenery.
After a night at Junction Creek Campground chilling, sleeping late, and watching Alana find new and interesting ways of filthifying and injuring herself, we loaded the 2-bike and the trailer for an afternoon along the Animas River trail.
We stopped at a playground for romping, beers, and some swimming in the river
the path was 15 miles out-and-back, a not-insignificant effort even on the pavement. G’s longest day on the 2-bike, and she did great.
We stopped briefly at the County Fair on the way back to camp so G could ride the ferris wheel. This was our first time doing anything more than passing through Durango, and it has a lot to offer. Easy to get around, and the campground is just outside of town. Turns out a high school friend of mine that I’ve reconnected with on FB lives just down the street - we unfortunately were not able to hook up, but having a friend living 2 miles from camp and at the start of the Colorado Trail is reason to return.
Back at camp, we picked up Kila then headed further up the mountain for an easy hike at 9k along the Animas Valley Overlook before more marshmallows.
Not wanting to trash either the trails or my bike, amped and desperate for some adventure in all this interesting weather, and possessing the day off work, I came up with a good’un: ride the road about 40 minutes to Wind Cave, hike, then retire to a local ale haus. Maad was up for the challenge, his wholly inappropriate all-mountain bike his utensil of (not)choice, though he kept up admirably on the road stretches.
Early afternoon during a lull in the storms. brought my $5 coat, shell pants, extra shirt, socks and gloves jic
It was touch and go for a while with the weather, but it broke in our favor
The Wind Cave, from Usery Pass Rd.
locking the bikes at the TH. I left my oldest nastiest helmet and shoes next to the bike rather than haul them up the mtn
2 years since I’ve hiked this
and the trail was seriously scoured from the storm
Its really nice to hike fast without 30lbs of protoplasm strapped to you; before either me or The Knee knew it we were shooting up and down the hard spots, which thanks to the weather was most of it. If you can keep the cadence, its such an easier more fun trail. The descent for a brief few minutes made up for not snowboarding. The sensation of speed and motion on a bike is amazing, but it doesn’t compare to the empowerment of having your legs under you. I’m so thrilled my knee handled this, i’ve really missed this hike, and I’m going to do this workout again.
clear air made the views exemplary
water trickled constantly over the cave mouth
the little shiny dot out there past Camelback is Cardinals Stadium
Beckie and Alana joined us for chips and beers at Nando’s - a new (unimpressive) Mexican place
The rain at sunset drove us off the patio, and justified the gore-tex gear. i left it on and took Kila out when the rain slowed at nightfall. Damp soft ground, cool air, and romping offleash are invigorating for Kila. I have to try to catch it on film before this season is out. The rain had filled the drainage basins, so i cruised one side on the Heckler through off-camber rocks and gravel, and Kila matched my pace from 50 yards across the pond running atop a retention wall. Water was a foot deep in spots on the RMR golf course path, and climbing the railroad tie staircases was slippery work, almost like riding in Colorado.
tonight Beckie made dinner
After weeks of surfing NOAA and weather.com for long-range forecasts, we targetted this weekend for Byron and my 5th Annual Low-Overhead Highly-Flexible Ski Trip, this time with James and maybe another along. And OMFG were the storms stacking up. Right at the end of a week of puking snow. Unfortunately, Byron’s work was also stacking up, as was mine orthogonally, as was the sunshine. This caused great angst - neither of us wanting to break the tradition, but respecting the respective constraints on eachother’s schedules. Byron ultimately bowed out gracefully and gave James and I his blessing for a great trip. This was the epitome of “no friends on powder days.“.
We hit the road at 4am, but it was already heavy rain. Should have left the night before and deadheaded to the hotel parking lot. Snow was blowing sideways when we hit Camp Verde, and discovered I-17 was closed at Sedona. No way out, and it would only get worse for the next 2 days. We drove 2 hrs home, I went to work. It sucked. A friend of mine in Durango told me the snow in his front yard was up to his nipples - douche bag.
G was trapped inside daycare from the time they opened til I got her at 6:30. The wrong one of us went bell-to-bell cause of the snow. I convinced her she was antsy, mostly cause i was antsy; weather this different you need to experience, for all the unrelenting weeks of 104. I talked G into the Pink Park where we could play in the mud and feel the wind, and hang out and salvage a scrap from the day. She was happy enough climbing to the attic to look for her old boots, or wearing Beckie’s all night. The Park only lasted 15 minutes, the storm will last 2 more days.
I will hit Wolf Creek this year!! and technically, I have never eaten scrapple, but I have made many scrapple-inspired dishes from leftover hams and turkeys, delicious meat-like casseroles and meatspready loaves of meaty-tasty soup. Once you’re resigned to eating the scraps, such minor differentiations are insignificant. Now I have a day off and its raining too hard to ride anywhere and I don’t wanna trash my bike? Ride to and hike Wind Cave? Pass the cajun seasoning.
I called in sick. I needed a mental day. One of my developers said to me recently “we worked over Thanksgiving, you get to work over Christmas.“ its all good, i have a flexible schedule; i gotta be me.
dawn patrol
Snowbowl from the Verde Valley
good morning!
good morning!
conditions were a bit crusty, a bit creamcheesey, extremely threadbare, but we still managed some tree runs
James, Sam and i met up with Jason and his bud Benning. First time I have ridden with a group more than 2 or 3, we stayed together well. Also the first day I have on late-notice gone somewhere that the conditions were not primo. Flag crowds suck, but after after-a-storm when there is still base and no lines was a ton of fun. Beckie’s smaller board was far superior for the packed conditions, and i was very psyched to stay with people far more experienced.
there is a completely reasonable explanation for this, but it won’t matter once it makes the cover of ‘Out’ magazine. Don’t tell the Office!
Sam made a nice vid, including an outstanding faceplant by me.
Giant winter rainstorm today, meaning 3 feet at Wolf Creek. The trip is going to have to be in January this year, more time to get a hard-on.
Since it was still on the floor of the garage, and since we had some friends celebrating their anniversary with some paddling, we scrounged up a bit of spare coin to hire a sitter and goto Canyon Lake. 50 min from driveway to water!
Brett and Tiffany’s sitter fell through at the last minute, but ours was cool with 4 kids, and a pretty respectable hourly rate for her efforts. G got to play with Miranda (3.5) and Sydney (2), while our humble kayak morphed into a little flotilla. Other than 2 tours in Hawaii, and a trip with some friends in Reno on Lake Tahoe…our first time paddling, where capsizing worries, motor boats, and smacking each other’s paddles had us on edge…I don’t think Beckie and I have ever paddled with anyone else. Yet all of our speeds, stamina, shit-togetheredness, and je ne sais quo matched quite well. A fantastic time was had. A well-above average number of photos were taken for a yakking trip, which is still not saying much. We got no shots of the peaceful narrows under the first metal bridge.
lunch break
diving off rocks. Brett’s flip was much more impressive, but the camera was not ready
water was chilly, but too nice to forego
On the drive back, I described to Beckie every turn in the road, was amazed how quickly we got up the climb to the scenic vista pullout, and how similar pace to the roadie we went down the descent. The 13 mile stop-and-go slog back from AJ was much better in a car, though after a day of rumbling motorboat and shoulderless roads in our giant-ass truck I appreciated the roadie even more.
The kids were all alive and had a far better time together than apart, which made my still sun-warmed skin tingle that much more. G taught Miranda and Sydney how much fun it is to throw rocks into the pool. I have a chore this weekend that will be colder than the lake.
Summer had one last (knock-on-wood) 100 degree gasp, and we had my parents around to watch the kids, so the kayak made its first appearance in 2.5 years.
30 min to get the boat from rafters to rack, 30 min into the water at Butcher Jones Beach; not bad being out of practice and with a new piece-of-shit truck. So what we forgot our tortilla chips, and only had cheap beer in cans, and would only get to be out for about 3 hrs…for the first time in about as long as I can remember, it seemed like Beckie and I both relaxed within about 10 minutes and started having fun together. Must be the steady cadence of paddling, just like the road bike, lulling you into a semi-conscious state of effort, lulling you into a slow drift from here to there and all the details in between. Every muscle involved quickly let me know its been awhile, but got numb in about 30 minutes and didn’t much bother me the rest of the afternoon or the next day.
It was a beautiful afternoon. So what it was Saguaro Lake, and the stream of boat engines reverberated off the walls and kept a steady roll on the water…our boat is stable, and the waves sounded like the ocean. Some of my friends fixate on the road traffic and fumes riding to the lake, but I’m used to it. Its beautiful, rolling and close. We stuck to the edges, and got off just at dark.
and left the boat on the floor with plans of hiring a sitter one day next week, before it gets hung from the roof for another 2 years.
