Greatest day of my life.

Granted I have a terrible memory (which I once read about a study arguing that human males have developed an adaptive quality of having a poor memory for negative events, while human females are really good at remembering all memories. This seems to explain a lot, but I digress...), but today was the best day of my life. Being a “Los Alamos refugee,” I have taken the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to the Golden/Denver/Boulder, Colorado region. Where to begin...?

I have fallen in love and her name is Golden, Colorado. The USGS NEIC is located on the beautiful Colorado School of Mines campus. The NEIC is where all of the earthquake response and much of the earthquake research is conducted by the USGS. Arriving here, I was welcomed with open arms at the USGS, giving me a desk to work at and an open invitation to stay as long as I need. Beyond USGS, Golden is a small, quiet town. After work on Friday, we headed to the Golden City Brewery where it seemed like the entire town was enjoying a great beer and great company. I feel Dayton is my soul-mate, but Golden could be my girlfriend.

Back to today...Given the opportunity, I jumped at the chance of riding part of the epic Peak-to-Peak highway. This is a classic road bike ride and heralded by one "highly esteemed" journal as one of the best rides in America! This also included my first visit to Boulder. About a half mile into the ride I stopped to make sure I was heading in the right direction. While stopped two riders passed, saying “Hello.” I immediately recognized one as Cam Dye!! I never thought of myself as becoming star-struck, but I could not get over the fact that an athlete that I have read so much about in magazines had just casually rode past me. Heading in similar directions, I ended up following Cam and his unidentified partner for several miles. Don’t worry, I kept enough distance that it could have passed as “going in the same direction” and not “stalking.”

Following my Cam Dye encounter, the rest of the ride offered amazing scenery of riding within rocky, mountainous valleys, along a roaring mountain stream. Simply stunning. On top of that, the ride hosted a constant gradual climb for about 20miles straight! While completely spanking my feeble quads, the 10mile fast decent was equally enjoyed. The amazing thing was the number of bikers I saw. Honestly, I think I saw more bikers just today than I have seen in the past 10 years combined in Ohio and PA. And this was just a normal day here!! At first I found it odd that no other bikers really waved as you passed. But then I realized it is because you would be waving constantly. It would be like trying to wave to every car that you passed while driving. There are just that many! What is this place!?!?

Still unable to grasp the concept of bike nutrition (I mean the thought of simply drinking consistently is such a complex notion to me) I was in a serious hurt box when I finally returned to my car. Looking to return to the world of the living, I headed to Amente for some great coffee and sustenance. As I ate my way back from zombie-land while watching the Tour de France, I struggled with holding back a constant shit-eating grin.

Feeling like Mike again, I then strolled next store to Boulder Cycle Sport. There I was encountered by multiple employees who were more than willing to geek-out about talking bikes with me. Additionally, I got a chance to hold the Cervelo R5ca frame in my own hands!! This $9,999 frame, of which only several hundred where ever produced weighs a meager 700 grams!! That’s right, THE BIKE FRAME WEIGHTS LESS THAN 700 GRAMS!!! SIMPLY AMAZING!!

While the wonderful Boulder Cycle Sport shop specialized more in road/mtn cycling than multisport, I then took a little trip over to Colorado Multisport to check out a famous multisport bike shop. First, this is also where Retul Boulder is located, I cannot tell you how many pictures of pros I have seen getting refit in this shop. While there, I quickly struck up a conversation with one of the co-owners, Chuck. When you imagine geeking-out, this conversation redefines it. I learned so much talking to him. I saved countless hours of internet review/discussion searching by talking to him for a short while. Not only is he a great resource, but super friendly and thrilled to talk bikes. I will admit he was a little bit of a name dropper, but I’ll take it because he was dropping some serious names!! He works on the bikes of the who’s-who in triathlon. Name a top pro triathlete living in Boulder, he is his/her man! Most importantly, Crowie, my most respected and admired athlete of all time, “comes in and hangs out at the shop all the time”!!!! Whoa, further more, this guy is good friends with Crowie, heading over to Crowie’s house to watch the tour with him tonight!! Pinch me I’m dreaming. Like I said, I never thought I was one to get star-struck, but it is so crazy to have these amazing athletes become just normal people. I walked out of the store literally speechless. This had been an incomparable day and it was only 4PM!!

Finally, the day ended with a classic pig roast at a friend-of-a-friend. You might be saying, “OK, when did the amazing thing happen to you today?” But it wasn’t any one thing. Everything about today was awesome and the fact that it all occurred in one day and there were no downers about it is what makes today the greatest day of my life. It is a big statement, I know, but some days it just all works out. Booya!

Hello, Greenville.

"...with an enormous abstract iron sculture attached to one side and beneath it sitting in a chair tipped back against the house surrounded by company is the living image of DeWeese himself with a can of beer in his hand, which waves to us. Right out of the old photographs." - Pirsig (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenence)

It has been well over a decade since I read Pirsig’s metaphysical voyage, but every time I visit Gartzka I feel like I am visiting my DeWeese. I am not a super-genius that had his former life erased from his memory because he was essentially too smart to handle. And I don’t arrive on a motorcycle, but my visits usually focus around a bike (human-powered). Maybe it is because Rob did study under the real-life Bob DeWeese. But, really I think its because arriving at their house gives me the same feeling that Pirsig described. The amazing countryside is only complimented by incredible artistic creations casually and unassumingly sitting around. The larger-than-life artistic abilities of Rob and Kathie almost make them seem as though they should be out of a novel, but being at their home is as simple as sitting outside sipping a can of beer while listening to the little waterfall in the small stream out-back.

A ride with Rob was long over-due and a free weekend in Ohio was met with amazing summer-in-Ohio weather. With a foreboding race in Lubbock, Texas I felt a hot ride was in order, so why not being a long ride around 1PM? But, this was no simply bike ride. We were setting out on a voyage, a trip to the legendary Maid-Rite sandwich shop of Greenville, Ohio.

The conditions were nothing less than legendary. The amazing thing about riding around Rob is that the day can be completely calm everywhere else in Ohio, but it is pretty much guaranteed to be blowing around him; “the mountains of Ohio” as he calls it. As we began rolling, we also began cooking. The countryside around Rob consists of beautiful farmland. Trees are few along the rode and with the corn just inches tall, there was no protection from wind or sun. We spun into a headwind the entire way out. You might think, “a nice breeze had to cool things down.” Well, does a convection fan cool down an oven? While I play up the conditions to miserable, I loved every moment of it. There is something about riding through an oven that is invigorating; it makes me feel alive. Also, the thought of kicking back with cool drink post ride is certain heaven in mere several hours.

After many miles of pushing through a tough headwind, taking a short break in a cemetery for shade (made me worry how serious this break was), and questioning if it was a good idea to keep pushing through this heat, we passed the a sign welcoming us to Greenville. Like the treaty that was signed here, I immediately felt peace had been achieved. I was even warmly welcomed by the locals, “Get off the rode!!” As we rode past the bank, the sign read 98degrees. We both quietly nodded our heads in a way of saying, “Yup, that sounds about right.”

Rolling up to Maid-Rite was like taking a time machine back 60 years. The little brick building was adorned with a neon 1950s style sign and the outside was decorated with probably 60 years of chewing gum covering almost every brick. Stepping inside we caught everyone’s attention like we were travelers from the future, but I quickly remembered it was likely due to us dripping with sweat and sporting full spandex attire. The atmosphere inside was dichotomous. Every patron smiled in pleasure of the food before them; all the staff appeared bored and miserable. Rob asked the manager if we could bring our bikes inside (fearing the safety of our steeds sitting along and out of eyesight. The conversation went something like:

Rob: Would if be fine if we brought our bikes in but kept them out of the way?

Manager: Ah, well...I guess...I mean, well....Err....I guess....just for a little bit.Rob: Like for as long as it takes us to eat?

Manager: Umm...ahh...well...I don’t know....I guess....well....there is not a lot of room...ok....well....

Rob: We will leave them outside.

Maid-Rite sandwiches consist of crumbled ground meat on a bun with (or without) cheese. It is simple, but tastes so good! It is the kind of thing that you could eat 5 of them and feel great. The best part is the meat is cooked in a big vat with a worker just chopping it up constantly with a big spatula. It is not fine cuisine, but its the kind of thing that makes me love rural Ohio.

Despite the warm welcome into Greenville and the overly helpful and accommodating manager, everyone we met at Maid-Rite was as warm as the weather we just rode through. One gentleman was curious of our route and ended up drawing a map of a suggested route home for us. Several more obvious non-cyclists were really intrigued by our bikes and all the technology. It seemed like they had never seen a bike.

We rolled out of Greenville with full bellies, full bottles, and a full real Greenville experience. The ride home was uneventful, but a beautiful cruise through Ohio. We opened up our sails and let the wind blow us home (we coasted at 23mph, does that tell you how windy it was?).

The day ended with cold beers with Rob and Kathie outside listening to the little waterfall in the small stream out-back. That is my zen and the art of bicycle maintenance and definitely a storybook finish to a day.

FALL!!!!

First mtn bike ride at Raystown = awesome!

Great pumpkin carving

Lists.

"There are things that can be controlled and things that can't. Somewhere in the spaces between the two we fashion out art and our lives"
-Jim Bridwell

Unfortunately, this is an adventureless posting again. I know, I'm getting lame. But, I recently pulled out an old notepad and discovered a list I had made circa fall 2008. On a side note, I love making lists. But really, who doesn't? This list was appropriately titled, "Adventure List." As the title alludes, this list included many adventures I hope to accomplish.

I remember considering posting the list on this very blog at the time, but then opting out. I felt it might appear like I was trying to act all "hardcore" and "adventurous," when really I am just a normal man. The amazing thing is that over the last year and a half I actually accomplished the first thing on my list!

This got me to think, everyone should make adventure lists! These lists should be without limit. I'm not trying the preach, "You can accomplish anything you put your mind to" mentality. My motivation is more intimate. The great thing about routines is that they are comfortable and efficient. Adventures are neither of these, that is why they are called adventures. But the thing that separates us from computers is not our ability to keep a routine, it is our ability to do exactly not that -- adventures. Looking at pictures from Elizabeth and Casey's travels around Thailand and Myanmar, I always think: something that seemed so inconvenient to routine and expenses opened a world that from third party perseective simply looks magical.

So, here's my list. I hope you make your own and dream bigger than big. I also do not plan to cross anything off, rather just check how many times I've done it. Finally, remember stories that begin with, "Remember when we..." are much more interesting than, "This one time I..." So adventure with a loved one.

Adventure List

1. Ride 200-miles in a day
2. Do an Ironman
3. Race Ironman Kona
4. XC ski tour Yellowstone
5. XC ski / ice climb tour Yostemite
6. Climb a big wall
7. Climb El Cap
8. Run a 50-mile race
9. Do a multi-stage bike race
10. Learn to fly an ultra-light
11. See the Northern Lights
12. Ride from LA to San Fran
13. Go to Japan
14. Bike through Laos
15. Go to Mongolia
16. Bike from eastern Russia through Mongolia
17. Climb in Greenland
18. Ride the Leadville 100
19. Climb in Newfoundland
20. Fly fish the Two Hearted River
21. Go to Bell's Brewery
22. Ride a wood velodrome
23. Go on a bike tour with a close friend (to be honest, I just added this one today, but something I've thought about for a while)

I added some pretty pictures because if you are anything like me, you would just look at the pictures and opt out of reading any of my ramblings. (Pictures include: a normal summer night at Caesars Creek, Ohio (I love Ohio); Denali Park, Alaska; me and my "little" brother in Hatcher's Pass, Alaska).

SNOWMAGEDDON!!!!

[Something about breaking trail feels awesome, and tiring. Awesomely tiring?]

[cue a deep, drawn voice that would be guilty of being totally annoying, but thanks to Hollywood is "only guilty of being awesome" (if you can cite that reference lets be best friends, unless you are a female and single, then when do we get married?)]
"Narrator: This is the Earth, at a time when the dinosaurs roamed a lush and fertile planet.
[From behind the camera, a giant asteroid appears, speeding towards the Earth ahead of it]
Narrator: A piece of rock just 6 miles wide changed all that.
[Blazing through the atmosphere, the asteroid impacts with a spectacular display of fire and destruction]
Narrator: It hit with the force of 10,000 nuclear weapons. A trillion tons of dirt and rock hurtled into the atmosphere, creating a suffocating blanket of dust the sun was powerless to penetrate for a thousand years. It happened before. It will happen again. It's just a question of when."
Narrator: The peaceful East Coast was comfortably enjoying Winter winding down and the premier of the final season of Lost (finally), but little did they know that they were in the deadly cross-hairs of a force far greater than they could ever imagine. Only one man, a weatherman, was able to identify this catastrophe rocketing towards them, but everyone just wrote him off as a lunatic (because, well, he was). But before millions could see The Who take the halftime stage (who? The Who? Who wants to see a Who nip slip?), they would be pounded by Snowmageddon!!!
[dun-dun-duuuun!!!!]
(on a side note, I once graded a college level paper about asteroids and the kid cited "Armageddon" the movie as a scientific reference! Granted Bruce Willis legitimizes that, but Ben Affleck destroys all credit. But not only did he reference it, he plagiarized the narrator word-for-word. The real crime, however, is that I did not even fail him, barely.)

Other than being short by about 15 feet of snow, a little fire and wrath, and Bruce Willis wasting his life on a total loser (who's only good movie inspired us all to drop out of school, get a library card, solve equations on our bathroom mirror, start eating apples, and recognize the importance of a retainer) who was smitten for Bruce's daughter (who would be totally smoking hot, except every time you look at her you see flashes of her father half-painted in black body-paint zipper thing, while a guitar solo drowns in the background), this was pretty much nothing like the Armageddon of snow storms. But it DID bring a lot of snow over night.

Realizing that running in knee-deep, wet snow did not sound totally awesome, unless, of course, I was training to fight an 8foot Soviet with "Eye of the Tiger" playing on repeat and wearing an awesome leather jacket, I went for a ski. But it is never a "normal" ski when you are in the vice grips of Snowmageddon (no, "snowmageddon" will never get old, and if you think it is, you need to watch this again).

Things I learned from other people while out skiing:
1. When Snowmageddon is pounding the countryside, it is not wise to take a "short-cut" through the woods on a forest road in the middle of the night.

2. After you get stuck on a on a forest road in the middle of the night, before spending the night in your truck, maybe you should realize that you are only about 4miles from a major road.

3. When you are driving in the next morning to pick your friends up after they spent the night in their truck all night after getting stuck on a forest road only 4miles from a major road, don't get yourself stuck also.

4. When Snowmageddon hits, driving in knee deep snow to go sledding in the middle of the forest is not be the most productive use of your time after you slide off the road, get stuck on a rock, and never actually go sledding.

5. When you are skiing along a forest road after Snowmageddon hits, you are no longer a skier, you are road-side assistance on skis (I learned that one from myself).

Cliff Notes of today's post: We got a lot of snow. I went skiing, then got a milkshake. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: No nuclear warheads were set off in the writing of this blog.

NH nICE

What better thing to do when it gets bitterly cold than to head outside and play. When Stefan and the family headed back to school and work, I decided it was time for me to continue putting off returning to work and head up north for some good NEice. Luckily, I have friends with flexible schedules or who also enjoy shirking responsibility. Meeting up with Kevin in Connecticut we headed up to snowy North Conway, New Hampshire to connect with Narva and Doug for some ice climbing.

Unlike me recent trips, everything seemed to go right up in NH. We got a pretty good deal on lodging that included a free DELUXE hot breakfast ("deluxe" = "eggs" have no taste, "bacon" is likely paper given paper thin thickness and paper-like flavor...however, I cannot overlook the awesome sweet-buns and chocolate muffins...I guess deluxe does mean awesome. As a results, everyone kept mistaking me for Will Gadd, thank you Holiday Inn Express), and free all-you-can-eat pasta dinner (which only required one minor lie).

Unfortunately, unlike the streak of previous climbing trips with Kevin (vis-a-vis falling icebergs, epic days, and black holes (not the proper use of "vis-a-vis," but I find if you use strange words confidently, they usually work)) this trip did not include any major SNAFU's and went pretty smoothly. So, all I have to share are some great pictures.

Narva shows you don't need heel spurs or figure-4s when you have icicles

Doug warmly watches Kevin freeze belaying me while I hack my way up

Check out more pics:

NH nICE

Hey Moose, You're an Asshole!

Moose, ever since I first met you, I knew there was something wrong about you. But I at the time I could not quite put my finger on what exactly made me know this. After today, it has all become clear to me.

I just wrapping up a fantastic early morning of mountain biking by bombing my way down the Powerline Trail from Flattop Mountain. While I experienced 3+ miles of a broad frequency spectrum of vibrations making my hands feel they were about to pop off the bars and yelling "Heeeyyyyy beeeeeaaaarrrrr!!!!" (this is a newly adopted practice as I finally realized that excessive throat clearing and occasional whistling probably was not the best bear deterrent. And while I have always dreamed of petting a bear in the wild, this morning was focused on biking, not man-eating-wild-animal-petting). I had a momentary thought of what would happen if I came around the corner at mach-to-fast-to-even-dream-of-stopping to find an enormous moose standing in the trail. I quickly dispelled this though, partly because the vibrations were inducing a shaken baby syndrome that prevented holding a thought for more than 20seconds, but also because I mean how ridiculous of an idea is that!? I mean, come on!

Well, since Luck and Irony are best friends and also both assholes, I soon found myself uncomfortably close to a momma moose and calf standing next to the trail. Slamming on the brakes, and after a short slide finally stopping, Mrs. Moose and I stared at each other, frozen in shock. I was thinking, "THAT'S A BIG MOOSE!" and she was thinking, "That is an incredibly handsome man on a pretty sweet bike!" My second thought was, "What a great photo opportunity!" but fortunately that was soon followed with my third thought, "Getting trampled by a 1000+lbs moose would really hurt, and I bet that ornery little calf would throw in at least one cheap kick while I was down." As I contemplated turning around, but realizing that would require biking back up hill, which didn't seem like an option I was willing to do at that point, luckily momma moose made the decision for us; as she snapped out of the trance my cunning good looks put her in, she and baby in tow took off down the hill. But, not only did she run down the trail, in my direction of desired travel I'll remind you, but after traveling 20yrds, she decided she was far enough and slowed to a stroll and started eating again.

Which brings me to my first reason you are an asshole, moose. You are living proof that evolution and "survival of the fittest" has loopholes. We've already established you are the ugliest animal I have ever seen. But how can someone yelling "HEEEEYYY BEEEEAAAARRR!!" on repeat not be at all alarming? Does it really take me yelling it right into your ear to make you take notice? I mean, what if I was a bear? All it would take would be for me to act like I wasn't a bear by acting like I was trying to scare away the bears, but I was really a bear myself. You would have been an easy breakfast. I should have bit you just to prove my point.

Eventually this moose slowly worked her way off the trail, graciously allowing me to pass, you jerk! Well it wasn't much later until I encountered another moose standing in the middle of the trail! She was again struck by my good looks, but I saw her earlier, and was just starting to get annoyed. The kicker is, she just stood there! I mean, do you not understand you are standing on the trail? Fortunately, as I creeped closer trying to make my yelling, "GET OF THE TRAIL, MOOSE!" more understandable, I saw that I could actually take a side trail before reaching you. I hadn't even traveled 30yrds before I reached the third asshole of my morning, a very large bull moose STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TRAIL!!!!! Now, this is too much. And this brings me to my second reason for my dislike of you, you always block the trial! If I had 10ft long toothpick legs that can easily step through underbrush I sure as hell would not hang out on a trail. Going back to my first point, you are in a predator-prey status, and you are the prey. Standing in the middle of an established trail is probably not the most discrete place to hang out.

So, I stood there with one moose in front of me (on the trail) and one moose behind me (on the trail). I know you are hard of hearing, so I yelled loud and clearly, "GET OFF THE TRAIL, YOU DUMB MOOSE!!!!" but nothing. In fact, my yelling must have been soothing because everyone put their heads back down and resumed chewing.

Which brings me to my final reason. In picture and from a distance moose look like these benign animals just hanging out in the forest chewing away without a care. You are essentially saying, "Aren't I just so nature and serene!?" NO, no you aren't. I know you are really saying, "Aren't I so docile, until you step too close to me, even though I am clearly standing in you path, and then I'll kick you in the head, then continue eating grass again."

Moose, most animals run away when they see danger. Hell, even a bear runs away when they hear me, not out of fear, but out of courtesy. Moose, you are the rudest animal I know. You are an asshole....and ugly!

FIREWEED!!!

This story actually begins about a year ago. It was the middle of yet another awesome summer in Dayton and I had signed up for the Young's Dairy Charity Ride. This year, the ride left from Young's Dairy in Yellow Springs, Ohio and traveling along the fantastic backroads of Ohio made its way to Ohio Northern University. While there were several options, the main ride was a century ride up to ONU, stay there that night, then a 80mile ride back the next day. Having completed several centuries before, I was eager to try something new, see how far I could push myself. So the challenge I set was to ride up to ONU, then ride back in the same day! I honestly had no idea if I was fit enough to do it. Well, after 3hrs of feeling nautious and in some of the greatest pain I have ever been in, I discovered that I was not fit enough. As I laid in the grass at mile 160 of my adventure waiting to be picked up by my mom, I realized that my mistakes occured early in the race. While I was focused on keeping good pace so that I could get back before dark, I had under hydradetd and fueled. By the time I began the feel the effect it was too late. Driving home, I said to myself, "That was a great challenge that I didn't achieve, but I'm never doing it again." Like the time I said, "Never again" after my first marathon, I was soon wetting my lips for a repeat performance.

Saturday July 11, 2009, Anchorage, Alaska: The opportunity to achieve my double century had finally been realized, the Fireweed!! This event hosted 50, 100, and 200 mile races, and the crown jewel being a 400mile race. The 200mile race began at Sheep Mountain Lodge near Palmer, Alaska and finished in Valdez, Alaska. Ending the race in Valdez provided an extra challenge as it left me 300miles from Anchorage. I considered the adventure of taking a ferry the next day from Valdez to Whittier where I could then try to hitch a ride back to Anchorage. However, the thought of sleeping in my cycling clothes and then wearing them all next day on the ferry did not sound appealing. So, I added a team member to Team Mike Cleveland, and Sarah became the official team driver, dropping me off at the start and driving me home from Valdez.

When the race went off and within the first mile I observed a seam was tearing in my cycling shorts, my ass already felt sore, and my legs felt dead, I knew this would be a long day. At the first aid station I found a spread that included Clif Bars, big soft cookies, pb&j, fresh fruit, etc. I could only pull myself back on the bike and resist the urge of filling all my pockets with free food by knowing in 30miles I would find the same spread. My division (200-mile solo) only consisted on ~50 riders, so we quickly became spread out. It was extremely disheartening to be passed by so many people, but my goal was just to finish and I recognized for someone to sign up for a 200-mile race, they likely are a fairly avid rider, right? It provided me an excuse to feel better about myself at least. The solo aspect was fitting for this adventure, where drafting was prohibited and the only conversation was a short hello as one rider would rarely pass another.

Knowing last year's mistakes, I took my time as the aid stations, stuffing down food and chugging as much fluid as my bladder could hold. I once read an article about an Ironman athlete describing his training including "long rides" that were so long that it made the actual race distance of 112miles seem short. I began to appreciate that perspective when I hit mile 100 and thought, "Great, only 100 more!" Unfortunately, around this time is when my IT band decided it start tightening up.

The highlight of the second century had to be riding Thompson Pass. I had heard of this pass we had to make it over, but had not clue what it would involve. We began the climb around mile 150. It was not a very steep climb, the steepest part being around 7% (whatever that means, that is what I was told, but it doesn't really mean anything to me). Surprisingly the small chain ring felt better on my knee and I got a second wind as I moved up the pass at a glacial speed (10mpg). This may sound miserable, if it wasn't for the scenery. We worked up into a valley with mountains that still had snowpatches, beaufitul green, steep slopes, awesome waterfalls, and glaciers as we got closer to the summit. The greatest challenge was the headwind that met us at the base of the climb and stayed with us the rest of the ride. It wasn't horrible, but was definitely an added challenge when you just want to be done.

The last aid station of the race was at mile 162, only several miles from the summit. Behind this aid station was an incredible view of Worthington Glacier. After a long decent we followed a flat road along the final ~30miles into Valdez. This would have been extremely painful if it had not been one of the most beautiful stretches of road I have ever been on. We followed a roaring river that was gray in color from all the rock powder that glacial water transported. Up in the high valleys were glaciers spilling from cirques. Then the road wound into a narrow Keystone Canyon, which hosted massive vertical rock faces rising from the roaring river and several hundred foot waterfalls spewing out snow and glacial melt. In portions the canyon was as wide as the road and the river sandwiched between beaufitul vertical metamorphic rock slabs.

Despite the last hour feeling like it lasted days, at around ride time 11.25 hrs, I rolled into Valdez at a little before 8PM. Technically the ride was only 194miles, but at that time adding 6miles just seemed like a technicality. While this distance has stymied me a year before, I had finally done it!

Being driven back to Anchorage in the wee hours of the morning (thank you Sarah so so very much!) I felt very content with today's adventure. It wasn't the distance that mattered to me. I was pleased I was able to accomplish a goal that I legitimately did not know if I was capable. But most importantly, for over 11 hrs I was able to see what makes Alaska so amazing. The landscape was amazing, I had seen the smallest library you can imagine in the middle of nowhere, I had seen the end of the Trans-Alaskan Pipeline (which was extra cool since I had seen the start of the same pipeline just several days prior up at Prudhoe Bay, North Slope), and I got to ride my bike alongside a glacier!

BLACK GOLD!!

Imagine a place that has ocean views, surrounded by hundreds of pristine lakes and ponds, and carefully nestled in ecologically fragile and heavily protected land. It is not uncommon to see herds of caribou and musk ox crossing roads, and you always have to be on the lookout for bears. In addition to the multi-million dollar state-of-the-art facilities, there is unlimited free food including ribs, steak, lobster, salmon, freshly baked cookies, ice cream…I’ll stop because it is making me too hungry. Did I mention all this doesn’t cost you a dime? Sounds like the most incredible eco-tourism resort, right? Well, its actually the North Slope, Alaska.

When the plane dropped out of the fog (literally) onto the runway in Deadhorse this morning, the thermometer read in the high 30’s. First impression: probably the flattest place I have ever seen, a strong cold wind, everything looked dirty, and the white sky melted into the thick fog cloaked the land. AWESOME!

Over the course of the day we visited a rotary and coil drill rig. I’ll spare you the details of the difference because I doubt you really care. What is cool, these rigs cost at least $200K PER DAY, even if they just sit there.

Lets put this in perspective:
1. If an error is made and the drill bit is damaged and needs replacing, at the rotary rig we saw today, it would take about 24hrs to pull up the bit ($200K), then you would have to replace the bit ($20K). Not a cheap mistake.
2. Ok, suppose no major mistake is made. A drill project could take a month to couple months (remember that’s at >$200K/day!).
3. The drill rigs are actually on wheels. This enables them to “easily” (at a couple miles/hr) drive to a new wellhead. The price of this move runs around a cool million.

Ok, ok big money, so what?! Keep in mind, they wouldn’t be doing all this if it wasn’t profitable. Wow!

I can’t finish this without talking about the food. I’ve heard that people who survive experiences when they nearly starve have a tendency to hoard food the rest of their lives. While I have never been close to starving and likely never will, I do have the tendency of hoarding food when its free. When the ribs are free, why not fill your plate? And when you are going home, why not take a doggy bag full of cookies? Good thing I don’t work up there, or I would definitely grow a nice gut.

By the end of the day, I touched the Arctic Ocean (Prudhoe Bay to be exact, but it’s all the same, right?), the sky cleared to beautiful blue, I had a full belly, and bag of cookies. Oh yea, not only was it all free (to me), but I actually got paid for it. I like it!

To be epic or not to be epic, that is the question

When I came across the website for the Thursday Evening Epic Runs the first thing I thought was, "I'm doing that!!" But the second thing I thought, "Are these really epic runs?" I mean, that is a bold statement, "Epic." It is a word that I do not use lightly. So, I began to make a mental list of ways for a run to be "epic." This list included,
1. Be stalked by a grizzly, that then leads to a chase. After becoming cornered, I am forced to a grappling fight to the death, where I reluctantly, but honorably finish the bear.
2. Fall into a steep canyon, where I manage to break my fall by the rushing, ice cold river where I am then thrown off a waterfall. I save myself from being crushed on the rocks below by catching an over-hanging branch with one arm. While my wet hands nearly slip, I manage to throw myself to land.
3. After a fellow runner falls from a cliff, I perform emergency first aid, innate skills that I never knew I possessed, but the intense situation spontaneously developed.
4. Aliens.
(funny how most of my situations entailed me becoming a supernatural hero...no, I'm not narcissistic at all!).

Well, let's start with the description of the group:

The Epic Concept

The Thursday Evening Epic events are non-competitive, adventurous training runs HELD YEAR ROUND on and off trails in southcentral Alaska. Generally these events are of 2 to 4 hours duration. Participants are expected to be capable of surviving the difficult conditions present, which often include, but are not limited to, rugged terrain, nearly impenetrable vegetation, severe weather, uncertain routes.... Participants and leaders MUST BE SELF SUFFICIENT. If adversity happens, participants and leaders MUST BE COMMITTED TO SELF RESCUE.

Hmm, not a bad start for an epic run. But concepts can be very different from reality. What will the run actually be like? Here is the description of the run:

On Bird Flew

We will start on the Bird Ridge Trail but will quickly diverge on hobbit paths leading to the McHugh Falls environs. From there our route will proceed to a steep, prickly, rock scramble up to Bird Ridge. The route finishes via the Bird Ridge Trail. This is one of the classics in the Epic route lexicon.

OK, enough prelude, onto the actual run. As the description outlines, we began on the trail, but quickly cut off. This "hobbit path" consisted of what appeared to possibly be a game path at one time, but has since totally overgrown. Or, maybe hobbits are 2foot tall creatures, in which case, it was still overgrown. Soon we ran past what appeared to be fresh bear scat right in the middle of the "path." That's when I knew this would be interesting. We made our way over to a spot overlooking the falls down in a steep ravine (two of the runners went down to the pool and reported about 10 massive silvers (a type of salmon) hanging out, unable to make it up the falls, aka bear buffet). It was now time for up. Heading up to the ridge the path was very clear, go up. We started on soccer ball size rubble, this became thick wild roses (which are much more pretty when you don't have to run through them), then more rock rubble, then 3rd class rock climbing, then jungle-gymes of alder, then repeat. Finally, after over 2.5hrs, we broke above tree-line, then a relatively short, steep scramble to the ridge. The views were incredible!! The amazing part was that what took over 2.5 hrs to get up, took a mere 1/2 hr of constant, steep, thigh burning, knee crushing, pounding down the ridge line.

OK, OK, was it an epic run?!? Well, it wasn't much of a "run." We jogged through the valley in the beggining, ducking under branches and climbing through downed logs. But, once we started heading up, it was more of a fast hike. It was so steep and the rock so loose that travel was not fast. The downhill, well that was running (and my thighs are "loving" that today!). Ok, so it was a "run." Now for the major question. We were definitely in bear country, but no bears sited. I would say there was no trail, just a matter of knowing a direction and getting there as fast as you can. The uphill was, well steep. It was definitely an adventure finding the least ridiculous route up. It was awazing to turn around and everything think, "WOW!" Finally, the view from the ridge line was fantastic. I'm not going to split straws here. My life was never in danger, but I have never been on a "run" like that, so yea, I'd say it was epic. Can't wait until next Thursday's run!

Thursday Evening Epic Runs

Running with humans vs running with a wolf(dog)

This started with a beautiful ~26mile tour of Anchorage. A couple hundred of us started in Northern Anchorage by Ellendorf Airforce Base. This include an awesome, scenic ~10 mile stretch along gravel roads through the base. On our left were some big green mountains, and the road traveled through remote woods. Last year a black bear and cub was spotted out here. While beautiful, my feet were ready to get off the gravel, where we headed onto narrow dirt single-track trail. The rest of the tour followed rural roads and bike paths surrounded by trees and with very few glimpses of buildings or cars. Bottom line, a real treat. Added bonus: not feeling destroyed and excited for more adventures on the day!

After my scenic run through Anchorage, Sarah and I headed up to Hatcher’s Pass to meet Kyle and Krish. We had lucked into a housesitting gig for the weekend. The house was awesome, Hatcher’s Pass is beautiful, but the dogs were what made the weekend. Atigun (“wolf-dog”), while skiddish at first, soon warmed up and never faded in energy to play. Ishi (“fat-dog”), was not shy for second, immediately fighting for all of your attention, which usually resulted in him sitting on you, blocking any chance of you paying Atigun any attention.

Net net, a great little weekend.

Two wheels and a lot of ground to cover

Update on life in Anchorage: I've been running, swimming, biking, and working. Update complete.

Ok, while that is pretty much true, I'll extrapolate a bit. Flattop (my last post) has become my traditional ride. This past weekend I finally figured out a route up that minimizes the amount of rode that I must be one (only a couple miles). The only drawback of the route is through one of the more bear-active areas of Anchorage. Finding this route took a little recon. The first time I ran into a couple spots that warned of extreme bear activity, resulting in me traveling the OPPOSITE direction. But I finally procured some bear spray and am perfecting whistling and talking to myself while biking. An hour + continuous trail climb is rough (yes I am complaining) but it makes me strong, and the downhill is AMAZING! Nothing like having your arms go numb and hands feel like they can barely hold on any longer!! I keep expanding this ride, and hope to soon make it through the pass then down to the coast!!!

I've also checked out Kincaid park. Kincaid has amazing cross-country ski trails. In the summer that means wide, rolling grass trails, pretty awesome. I did learn a good lesson while I was lost in the glee of thinking how amazing the riding was, to snap out of it as I rode within feet of a 7-foot bull moose. I hear the bull moose are pretty mellow compared to the cow, but they are ENORMOUS. On which idea, I digress: I average probably about 1 moose per run or bike. Yesterday, I saw 3 in one ride alone! Remember in Into the Wild how he freaks out when he sees a moose then goose LFO (life's (...) over) when he spoils the meat. From my experience, I could probably find a new moose to shoot every day, and I'm not even looking for them!! Anyway...

Still no bear, but the Newman O's are keeping me strong. Be well, do good work, and enjoy life.

You can see randomly updated "Life in Anchorage" pictures here:

Life Around Anchorage

I always wanted a Flattop.

Ok, mooses have lost their novelty. Shortly into my run this evening I encountered my second moose with two moosets. The whale on toothpick legs was standing right on the trail chewing away. I waited for a while, thinking it might move off the trail, but no, the ugly POS had no intention of moving and I wasn't really feeling like a kick in the face today. Luckally a dog came to my run's rescue. For a while I thought I might see the dog get drop kicked (minus the "drop") by the moose as the two exchanged charges. But the moose with calves in tow were slowly pushed off the trail enough for me to sneak by with only a minor fear this might be my last run. Needless to say, I avoided the narrow trails the rest of the run.

Moving on, the highlight of the day was a casual ride down from Flattop Mountain. There is nothing like continous coasting for 6+ miles. The only problem is that the ride first included riding up the mountain. Who am I kidding, I loved the pain! The mountain is only about 2,250ft high, but when you are starting at around 150ft, that equates to a pretty good ride. Of course when I decided on doing the ride, I just saw it was ~12miles each way and thought, "No big deal." Lesson learned: I'm not in Ohio anymore, look at elevation change also. The great thing is that from Flattop I can access a lot of long trails that are only moderate bear danger. So, the plan is to do this ride as often as possible and make my quads so big that they no longer fit in my pants. It could happen, no really it could. (The picture of that handsome man is from the top of the ride with Anchorage in the background, not the nicest weather today.What the pictures don't show is that the wind gusts were so strong they would almost blow me over!)

This is where I plan my next adventure to be (the backside of Flattop)!!

Ol' Man Wilson, you are a grumpy SOB

“Here it is,” I yelled over to Kevin, fatigue beginning to wear into more voice, and pointed to the “anchor” for our next rappel. This “anchor” consisted of two old nuts shallowly stuck into a crack. Considering some of our prior anchors included of a single nut or just a lassoed chock-stone, two nuts was practically “bomber.” As I looked down at my pointing hand, I saw it shaking in the glow of my headlamp. I guess I am more uncomfortable than I had thought. “Pull it together Mike!” I thought. Sure when this day started nearly 14 hours ago I had envisioned the adventure wrapping up right now at the car and my beloved package of Oreos. As I peered over the next ledge, looking into a black void without any sight of a boundary, much less bottom, it now seemed like the adventure was just beginning.

It was Spring break for me, and like any responsible individual shirking off the “real world” by hiding behind the ivory tower of university, I blew off actually getting work done and headed for Vegas. My trip to Vegas was slightly different those most, my final destination was actually about 20miles west of “the Strip,” out in the desert, Red Rocks Park. For the final day of our trip, we decided to climb a route called Inti Watana on Mt. Wilson (this was Kevin’s idea, for the record…). Inti Watana ended short of the summit, but we could link up with the top of another climb, Resolution Arete, and make the summit. Inti Watana is a 12 pitch climb, and the summit would add roughly 6 more pitches. While the first 12 would all be technical and steep, it sounded like the top of Resolution Arete included a couple technical moves and the rest was a scramble. Needless to say, we were looking at a long day. Jokingly, I told Kevin we could only do this if I had time to take a shower before my 6:50AM flight the next day. Done! Timing out the day, we figured 1.5hr approach, ½ hr to get set and start the first pitch, then ½ per pitch, give 2hrs buffer for the top of Resolution. We had a couple options for the descent. We could either do a series of rappels (yuck!) or something along the lines “walk down the water polished third gully to a rappel, then hike out of Oak Creek Canyon.” While the latter prescribed a 4.5hr trip down, we were fast hikers. It was a very generous timeline, but if we left the car at 6AM, I would be back to my beloved Oreos by around 8:30PM. Long day, but pretty doable, and again, we are fast hikers.

Nearly to the top of Inti Watana we were right on schedule, actually 15minutes early. What an amazing day it had been. Every one of the 12 pitches had been some of the most enjoyable climbing I had ever done. Even the tricky moves that I had feared would stifle me, had been tough but conceded smoothly to me. Then I had the thought that when you see it in a movie you think, “That was the most cliché foreshadowing statement!” Recalling some of our past “last day adventures,” this was turning into being uncharacteristically un-epic for us. But it did not matter, what a fantastic day we were having!!

The top of Resolution Arete (RA) was a stark contrast to Inti Watana. While not technically difficult, the moves were awkward, protection very poor, and rock crumbling. Kevin would commonly have 30+ foot run-outs, above a piece of protection stuck into crumbling rock. After I had a handhold break off in my hand, I knew this was not the place to trust protection catching any type of fall. Considering the quality of the rock, some of the “scrambles” seemed worthy of being roped up (looking down a several thousand foot drop off can be very convincing of the importance of a rope). To make a long story short, the top 6 pitches of RA became around 10 pitches for us. When we finally summited, the clock read 5:30PM, we were already an hour behind schedule.

The summit was fantastic. A great view of Vegas in the distance and blue skies blanketed us. I feared a similar experience as Whitney where the cold wind and temperatures would immediately chase us off the summit, but the top of Mt. Wilson was the most pleasant conditions we had experienced all week. After some pictures, high-fives, and the freedom of our feet from climbing shoes, we were on our way back down.

Immediately, the descent was not going well. After finding three cairns, the fourth played “hide-and-go-seek” with us, and the fifth played “I don’t exist” with us. But we decided on a gully the guidebook vaguely described. As the gully walls quickly steeped we were soon committed to our “third gully.” My only goal was to get through the rappel before dark; I am fine hiking in the dark, but a rappel in the dark sounded awkward. Soon we came to a 20-foot drop and a tree that had been rappelled off at least once in its long history. This short drop wasn’t exactly the rappel I had envisioned, but I’ll take it. Once we cleared that rappel another short drop met us. Ok, that last one was short, maybe a couple of these add up to the apparently singular rappel described in the book. After about 4 or 5 of these rappels, off increasingly sketchy anchors and working our way into a 4-foot wide slot canyon, I began to think we had simply found the wrong gully that some other poor fool had also found. I just hoped that the “poor fool” found a way out in this canyon that didn’t include climbing back up the gully to look for the correct gully.

Soon the sun was gone, our headlamps were out, and I was going through Oreo withdraw. Of all the climbing I had ever done, bailing off the route was never a problem. Within a couple hours I could easily be down on flat ground and off a mountain. Embraced by the vertical walls around me and thousand-feet of elevation below me, I began to feel trapped on this mountain. If the rope became stuck after a rappel, this could quickly turn into a very long night. But hope was in sight. I could see the narrow gully make a sharp turn and open up into Oak Creek Canyon. Maybe this is where the HIKE down begins. Those hopes faded as I reached that point and looked down over the ledge that into a world of complete black. I was soon rappelling into the black void having no clue what was below me. More importantly, I had no clue if the rope would reach the bottom. Maybe the other poor fool that chose this decent had used a double-rope. Those old cams above me had better hold! Squinting through the black I still hadn’t seen the bottom of the rappel by the time I saw the bottom of my rope.

When I was a couple feet from the end of the rope I found a couple cams stuck into a wet crack in front of me. Not only did I have to rappel of these ridiculous anchors, I now had to hang off them!!! Even though they didn’t move after I tugged on them, I still didn’t trust this anchor. So, before unclipping from the rope I jammed my foot and hand into the wet vertical crack. I don’t think I had put a pound of my weight on that anchor until Kevin got down there. After the next rappel I was off that wall and rappelling into back void number two. After a total of around 10 rappels Kevin and I were onto somewhat flat ground. The first thing we found, a cairn. While we hadn’t seen one in hours, this one assured us that this horrible series of rappels was actually correct! After several more hours of one-legged lunges stepping down boulders we were cruising across the desert. We reached the car at 11:30PM, 17.5hrs after we left it. A part of me wanted to suggest we hike around for another 30minutes so that we could make the trip a clean 18hrs, but looking at Kevin’s face I decided an even number was of little importance to him. I did get my shower that night, well early morning, and found my sleeping back by 1:30AM. If I learned anything out of this whole experience, it is this:
When flying out of Vegas, you need to arrive 45minutes before your flight. A 42minute early arrival translates to losing your seat.

It’s always a shock for me to return to my other life after returning form the latest adventure; the longer and more intense the adventure, the more of a transitional shock. Sitting in my dark office with my callused fingertips tapping the keyboard, I only need to look at the back of my cut-up hands to be reminded of my latest adventure. But in all truth, it will take far less than cuts on my hand to remind me of my latest adventure. It seems that every trip I make to Vegas ends in ways I never would expect.

While rappelling into a black void I had thought to myself, “This is the last “alpine” climb I am ever doing!” But similar to when I said the same thing after my first marathon, several hours later I was already looking forward to the next. I seek out these challenges because I am not certain if I can actually do them. It is not an adrenaline-junkie craving; it is a desire to push myself into unknown territory, forcing out my raw character to “figure it out.” I guess it is similar to someone meditating and reducing existence to the “singular;” these adventures strip myself to the character that defines, “Mike.” Sure I could do this through meditation in a dark room, but who would not want to find such simplicity 1,000 feet above the Nevada desert?!?! NOT ME!!

check out more pictures:

Red Rocks