Municipal park is looking good
The Phat Cat was not the tool for this trail, but we managed. Might bring the dirt jumper next winter trip.
GPS sez low tide
DH run #2. I should name these next trip.
After the emotional drain of the election, and the uncertain next steps in TrumpLand, we might just stay here.
Innate talent for color-coordination.
Beckie and Alana on the SUP, out with dolphins
look close on the right
Spotted this riding into the estuary. It looks like singletrack, no?
looks instead like feral dogs or coyotes
someone’s pet did not die well. Was he a member of the pack, a victim? The sunbleached collar with no tag was as deep as i got into the backstory. The toenail still had the quick on it, until i picked it up.
The moon this weekend was the biggest in 70 years, and it sucked the tide out so fast everything was tacky with saltwater. I lost myself for a while just working along the reef.
G gave the PhatCat a try. The crazy lighting is the sunset ahead and the supermoon exactly behind. It should be darker at this time.
G noted how much work is fatbike.
Xmas night we got dinner from 1) a convenience store and 2) a bad chinese restaurant. The next day was 15inches of fresh, and high of 9. It was still so empty and dumping we never left the front side and never stopped making first tracks. I got buried up to my chest too many times, each crash tunneling in and choking on powder, burrowing, drowning, mist and panic clawing into me clawing 20 feet back to the trail, dazed at being so near death next to the groomers. Still, after their classes at 7 degrees and whiteout, the girls were stoked for the first family run altogether!
G: (me sliding by her class) DAD! save time for a run with me!
Me: ok! save some energy!
G: you know me, I’ve always got energy!
Me(me sliding by her class) Holy shit, are you riding the big chair?!
Alana: *coolly* yes
I like snooping on them every few runs, cuz apparently I am doing something right.
Riff-Raff Brewing Company. Another Pagosa Springs front-street house turned into something kewl!
Saturday after xmas is the most crowded day of the year at Wolf Creek, and we were all tired of freezing up on the mountain.
High Country Lodge tubing hill
First time in 9 years Byron and us shared the house together! It was awesome. we fixed shit, worked on the roof, he taught the girls to fish. About 5 min with each of them in a kayak and they were pulling food out of ocean. That’s some uncle-tastic magic right there, yo. We went for a ride too! Byron’s first fatbike esperience, i drug him through dunes and over jumps and up Whale Hill and things he’d never seen in our 10 years owning the place together. That’s riding-buddy magic right there, yo.
The day for braiding finally came, and it was magnificent. Maria’s hands spun 40 frequency a minute.
Which was still not fast enough for Monster the Lesser
Mittens and Cookies are still alive!!!
What do you say about vacation pets?
G on her first solo paddleboard
Alana and G on their first solo paddleboard
Low tide this visit was 6am and 6pm. The town and beach were teeming with touronistas, so I headed out on the fatty catty to the Morua Estuary, to see sights that between the tides and seasons are usually underwater.
The sandbar was currently forming a relatively deep tide pool, with a steep slope on its edge. Made for a nice off-camber challenge. Next morning I rallied the family to hike ~20 minutes from the end of the road out to it for a swim. You could jump off the slope in the background and land in 4 feet of water – not a feature you normally get ’round c’here.
The sandbar at the mouth of the estuary has a cool reef at the end of it, that my kids call Bird Island. We last went here 2 years ago in winter. We hiked about 30 min there at sunset the next day.
I don’t understand why 200 pelicans don’t just turn and eat one little girl? The dune in the background is about 100 feet tall, and has a few ribbons of gravel that run through it, such that you can ride much of the way from the beach to the top, and then whoop back down.
It was not all so simple.
We’ve had these cats, who we’ve been feeding for awhile.
and we could not say no to another cat, or 2
Mittens and Cookies spent 4 days nosing their way in, fleeing, coming back, and regretting it, and making us feel awkward and ugly and unwantable. They decided they did not want to be house cats. Yet flush with estrogen and a weekend of no-adoption fees throughout most of Maricopa County, we succumbed.
An ironic statement, given Scottsdale Unified School District’s budget cuts will lead to half-day Hump Day all next year and drive many of us to Charter schools. But so true a statement! Reading takes sooooooo much time. One of my all-time most favorite pleasures in life is to read a book and get drunk on the beach, but i am a far better tinyFather if i don’t bother.
We did a lot of riding, swimming, eating, building fences out of zombie-killing plants, and suburban hooliganism. I read about 40 pages of a trashy novel, and that was too much time out of our busy schedule of aggressive relaxing.
donut know if it was the Spring high tide pushing the fish into the shore, or mating season, but the pelicans went off all weekend long
closeups were impossible, every time i moved in they drifted out. I tried and failed for 3 hours…
the pelican attack breaks down like this: drive into the wind, lean back so the wind inverts and pushes you down, all the while never taking your eyes off the target
This is Cookie. He and his sister Mittens have been playing us since last summer. I love you touch me. I hate you go away. I love you and i hate and love your touch. go away and touch me. i am a cat.
After they devoured 2lbs of shrimp tails, we left them with a quart of milk a bag of catfood and a promise we will bring them home if they last til Memorial Day.
so far, so surprisingly awesome. ask me again on 8-15 how I feel…
May 31 – June 1
picked kids up from school on bikes for shenanigans in the golf course sprinklers, water fountains, golf course lake. ghetto is fine with us if its wet.
Saturday: more keepin it realz at Wet & Wild, stared at lots of boltons and tats. Sunday: paddle Lower Salt with Sam Schoch, the Phx lowclass summer trifecta!
Friday: When was the last time you ran under sprinklers? Whatever your answer, its been too long. it doesnt take a child to show them the light, it takes a father who wants their kids to not complain about the heat to trip into facilitation genius. Saturday: Scottsdale Might Mud Mania. Sunday: Pool at the gym and hot tub.
Wet and Wild after school, 3…count them…3 swim\parties, then we all slept late hid inside and cooked on father’s day.
June 21 – last-time-til-soccer-season-ends beachtrip
2 powder days in the estuary
Los caballeros parked their horses in a copse of trees behind our house.
I’ve never seen him do that before. Fortunately we had a pile of carrots we’d been hauling up and down the beach all weekend trying to feed them. Some backstory – the kids were out in the water both days the horses came by, and lamented their lonely horses, after missing them last trip as well. Such wpp, 3 whole months without duddy and mummy buying them pony rides. A black kitten with white mittens 2 days in a row appeared in our kitchen, G spoilt it with milk dubbed it Mittens the Kitten. Struck she was with prepuvettant hormones.
Our last night i came a’flying down the beach, exploding my calves in my toe-shoes after 2 days of running and climbing dunes and paddling with flippers, upon rendering myself hobbled for 3 days i cried thusly ‘the british are coming!‘ i had 6 minutes to find that line, and i thought – on the whole – it killed. I even fake-panted while i croaked it out a final time.
Beckie cracked the tiniest hint of a smile, at least my devastated reaction to her reaction led to a 15 minute civics lesson for the kids. The horses still weren’t there. They got so busy with their other colonies, the sun did set on the British Empire, we were out of beer, and had a lot of seafood and salsa back at the house.
I worked harder, despite my unemployed effort baseline being disappointingly high. Every last screw in the house has been tightened, I sucked from the public teat for 3 weeks, and did 10 rides with the girls. 3 days of snowboarding and the trip to Sedona were restorative but not restful; driving is tiring, as are fear and stoke. I would have enjoyed another month off. I am grateful to have snuck in Wolf Creek and Highline.
It was all boot camp for 9 days of Xtreme parenting that left me sortakindawanting the relief of work. Not included in the pics below are soccer, the GROAZ Day at Somo, more soccer, and a marathon trip to the zoo.
Spring slush at Snowbowl for the kids, beers and laptop on the deck for me. I negotiated my salary for an offer while riding up the magic carpet with Alana while carrying an SLR. That has got to be some new kind of dooshbaggery.
rode the Hart Prairie lift and came down by herself. Not bad for a 7 year old on Day 7. I asked her if she could doo eet, she said yes. Her first run took 40 min, and she had “an epic wipeout”. She wanted to squeeze in 2 more runs, but only got one.
Next day in Mexico.
The jump line was still there, and The Guardian in his elf suit.
I scoped it out the first morning, on the Bird but only for recon with no pads or fullface. The dirt on the takeoffs and landings was much firmer than last time, but the wood was falling apart. Jump 5 had warped into a half bow and split the run in two, the droppin wobbled badly. So instead I came down the alternate 100 yard entrance of chunky sandy singletrack into 3 small jumps and the 4 big ones I tiptoed around last trip. I thought about jump #1 all evening, and pedaling over the next morning was feeling so groovy i thought i’d simply roll on up and send it. It still took 3 tries til i could shut down my brain enough. Just send it you dork. I was sure I’d wake up in a shitty mexican hospital, but the landing was perfect and half a second later I had to prepare for the big turn, the hipper at its exit, the next jump, and the next one, and keeping enough speed up for the next one.
Felt like more than 30 seconds.
The beach was sweet, chilly, and calm. We paddled a lot, tinkles took willpower.
I rode the fatbike. This terrain was awesome and joy and nerve-wracking, could not unlook it for a moment. I will come up with more judicious descriptions on future trips when i am not crapping my pants, assuming i do not first break my ankle and can upgrade my brakes to BB7s.
My tracks and the Ice Cream Man’s. It reassured me i was in the most efficient spot to traverse the beach.
Ice Cream Man is a sun-baked beefjerkyish dude who drags his cart for miles over sand. Sometimes I see him rolling up to Las Conchas when I’m rolling out. He doesn’t talk much and doesn’t waste a lot of energy and doesn’t seem comfortable unless he is plodding ahead with his cart. I understand, on long rides your equilibrium freaks out if you stop pedaling when your mind is intent on pedaling pedaling pedaling until you are finally done.
G gets a fistful of mexican coins and she comes back with some fewer and ice cream. I hope he overcharges us, or finds peace in honesty.
I spend some with Antonio, El Caballero, who likes my fatbike.
Alana rode for the first time holding onto G, but got skeered and didnt want to do it again the next day. Petting the baby was enough.