Make that TWO State Champions

credit RedRiverMiner.com

I honestly never thought this would happen, but I won my first race!! Now, keep in mind, there were only about a dozen other races, but I will take it!

The Desert Babe (openly copying that name from http://highdesertdirt.blogspot.com) and I traveled to the Enchanted Forest in Red River, NM, a beautiful little mountain town near Taos, to compete in the Low O2 Snowshoe Challenge. This is certainly an apt name, considering the race takes place at +9,500 feet! This race also serves as the New Mexico State Snowshoe Championship, a title The Desert Babe has won two times already (2012 and 2014, she was out of the state in 2013). Admittedly, we were both nervous going into the race: The Desert Babe had a title to defend and I am still a newby at this sport.

I ran for the first time in snowshoes and competed in my first snowshoe race several weeks ago at the Santa Fe Snowshoe Classic. It was a little over 5k and brutal, including a 1.5-mile long climb. This race had a good turnout (~75 races) and I placed eighth, which was great, but I was also over five minutes behind the winner!

So, going into yesterday’s race, my goal was to push as hard as I could. I wanted to try and stay close to the leaders, but also realized 10k is A LOT longer than 5k (like twice the distance…), so I really had no clue what running that far on snowshoes would feel like. The 5k race nearly killed me!

As the NM State Championship, the top two finishers in each age group qualify for the national championship, taking place in Eau Claire,Wisconsin this year. I had no doubt that The Desert Babe would win the women’s race, much less her age group (she beat all the women in the Santa Fe race by at least five minutes), so I knew we would be going to Wisconsin regardless. On a side note, The Desert Babe missed making the national team by only about 30 seconds last year, so I am confident she will make it this year! I knew the turn out for this race would be small, but I also did not want to qualify for nationals simply because there was no one else in my age group.

Before getting to the race, I should highlight how beautiful the location is. Red River is about 45 minutes from Taos, nestled in a tight little valley with a beautiful stream running along the town. There is a little ski hill here, and if you have ever seen the mountains here (part the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, southern Rockies), these mountains are STEEP and the skiing looks really intimidating! The Enchanted Forest is privately held land that has beautiful cross-country skiing and snowshoeing trails winding through a thick pine forest. And the snow was fantastic up there! It was thick and sticky, with typical crystal blue skies!

Ok, back to the race. Warming up, I saw two guys that looked like the main competition. One guy looked like he knew what he was doing and the other guy has his shoes bolted into his snowshoes, so obviously he was serious! Both were clearly older than me, but as The Desert Babe pointed out, especially with snowshoe running, age does not mean much. After The Desert Babe and I returned from out warm-up, several late arrivals had showed up. They both looked young and strong; one of them had beaten me at the Santa Fe race. Looks like I had my work cut out for me!!

The State Champs flexing their guns!

The race was a two-lap course (there was also a 5k race starting at the same time). It started in a field (after starting on single-track at Santa Fe, snowshoe races are much less hairy when they start in a field so everyone can line up across the starting line). The course immediately climbed up a groomed XC ski trail. About 0.2 miles in, it jumped onto a single track (aka, you would have to be good to pass) for 0.3 miles. It then got back onto the ski trail until around the 1.4 mile mark, where it got back onto single track nearly to the end of the first lap (5k mark), winding through trees on hilly, sometimes short, “punchy” climbs.

Right off the start, I was in fourth place. My heart felt like it was about to explode (even though it never really went over 150 bpm; not sure if it is altitude or what, but cannot seem to get my heart rate much over 150 bpm anymore). Once we got back onto the ski trail, ~1 mile in, I took third place up a long gradual climb, then second on the decent. But already first place was nearly out of sight, that guy was flying! First the rest of the first lap, I could hear third place behind me, although, I did feel some relief once I got onto the single track on the back half of the first lap, because I knew it would be hard for him to pass me on the single track.

When I went through the halfway point, I had developed some breathing room from third place, but first place was nowhere in sight. I was pleased with trying to hold on to second place. I just hoped I wouldn’t blow up on the second loop. The second half of the race was pretty uneventful. I kept putting time into the guy behind me and had the fortune of knowing what to expect on the loop (having already run it), so I felt more relaxed. The second half of this loop was great: winding through the trees and feeling comfortable with the gap I had on the guy behind me. I comfortably cruised into second place.

After finishing and nearly puking, I cheered The Desert Babe on as she finished two places behind me, crushing all of the women and becoming a three time NM State Snowshoe Champion!

Where it is always fun!

After finishing, she asked if I won, and I explained how badly I was crushed by Rene, the guy in front of me. But, I was comforted by the fact that the winner was racing in the world championships in several weeks. More importantly, he is from California, making me the NM State Champion!

Awards were not for several hours, so we headed to town for food (and milkshake). The whole time in town, The Desert Babe kept saying she thought Rene only ran the 5k distance, but I assured her he simply destroyed me in the 10k.

Well, during the awards ceremony, I was called up as the overall winner. It turns out Rene did only run the 5k distance, The Desert Babe was right! Not only did I win my first race, but I led for most of the race. Meaning this was the first time I ever led a race and won a race!!

All in all, it was an awesome day. Since we both won the race, The Desert Babe and I both won a free night at a yurt in Enchanted Forest and took home some nice pottery award. As if the day couldn’t get any better, on our way to pizza and beer, I say my first big horn sheep, and not just one, but an entire herd! #NMTrue!!

Now that you have read this long-winded ramble, here is more well-written article, but my favorite journalist: http://www.snowshoemag.com/2015/01/26/2015-low-o2-snowshoe-challenge/

We might be older, but it doesn't mean we act that way.

The amazing Indian Springs

My first running photoshoot thanks
to Tai. Wade proves who needs
gloves when you have socks.....?

Without a doubt one of the things that makes me the luckiest person is the my group of Dayton and beyond friends, The Crew. This group of 15+ guys (yes, of course its all dudes; we learned at a young age, "Girls on one side, guys on the other!"), most of whom I have known for well over 20 years (some since I was 6), are honestly like brothers to me. Unfortunately, we only get to see each other a couple of times a year now. But one of the reasons why I know I am so lucky to have these friends is that no matter how long it has been since we have seen each other, it feels like no time has passed at all....for better or worse.

Another shot from the run, showing
the amazing Adam house in
the background.

Fortunately, this past weekend I was able to see a part of The Crew in Crested Butte, Colorado... ahh, the sunshine state. For the avid AoaNM followers, you might remember a similar trip took place 5 years ago (Crested Butte). This trip had some returning characters, several missing, and one new one. Living in New Mexico, I had the pleasure of driving up to western Colorado. I really love that drive, especially southern Colorado. Of course, I left work late, so most of the drive was in the dark. Driving through northern NM in the dark is pretty surreal. You pass another car maybe every 30 minutes or so. You drive along a perfectly straight road and the world dissolves into black at the limit of your headlights. Those 30 minutes feel like hours. If not for the dashes on the road, I would have no way of knowing if I am actually moving. Then in southern Colorado, you begin to drive through these amazing little towns. Each seem like isolated islands of civilization, knowing nothing of the others. But each town has this strange feeling, almost drawing me to pull over and settle down in this completely foreign town. I managed to resist the urge of relocating my life to some random small Colorado town and pulled into CB late that night, with just a couple hairy moments narrowly avoiding the hundreds of deer and elk hanging out along the road the last 20 miles of the drive.

The money shot! Thanks Tai for making me feel famous.

When a normal person thinks of a group of guys in their young 30's hanging out at a top ski destinations, with an amazing base of snow, there are certain activities that come to mind, namely skiing. Other than my half-day spent cross country skiing, nobody went skiing. In our defense, several of the guys went snowmobiling. I did not because I prefer human-powered activities (that excuse was met with groans from the other guys and "I knew you would say that.") No, we spent the weekend playing King of Tokyo board game, cooking ridiculous meals, playing capture the flag/snow ball fight (which soon devolved into our typical fight about someone somehow cheating), building the most epic sledding route known to man (at least in our opinion), and of course making fun of Ross and Blake as often as we could.

This is how most of the weekend
looked, us playing Kings of Tokyo

Again, taking the normal person's perspective, this weekend sounds like something 12-year olds would do. Considering our behavior while doing all of these activities, 12-year olds is probably about right, if not generous. For the benefit of everyone, I won't go into details of this behavior, you will just have to take my word for it. I will say, as a follow-up to the last CB trip, we repeated the food challenge with Blake. We may have been a little ambitious on the spice, but needless to say he lost again. This time, the punishment involved a midnight, full nude trip down the sledding route. How I wish we had a video! He set a record time, nailing each of the sharp turns perfectly. Although, stopping the sled in the deep snow may have been a little cold for him. Without a doubt, it was a fantastic weekend. I don't regret not skiing; any time spent skiing would have meant less time I could have spent with these guys (well, I could have done with less Blake time.....just kidding....kind of).

Ahh, I am hilarious

But, that wasn't the end of my weekend. After leaving CB, I drove west, heading over to Utah. Again, this was an awesome drive. Western Colorado is pretty awesome to drive through, however, efficient driving it is not. I fortunately was not in a hurry because the winding roads and hairpin turns with hundreds of feet drop-offs is not conducive to making good time. The craziest part of the drive is crossing the Colorado-Utah border. Leaving Colorado you work your way through mountain passes then all of a sudden you hit a martian landscape, aka Utah. Colorado has a ton of sharp, jagged peaks, Utah has rounded blobs of red rock.

Kevin climbing hard and looking badass while
doing it, as usual.

I was heading to Indian Springs to meet up with Kevin and Becky. Kevin is known from many earlier posts (e.g. NH nICE, Ol' Man Wilson, you are a grumpy SOB, and many more, including the slideshow from our eastern Sierras trip). I got into Indian Springs late, so this part of the excursion only included half of a day of climbing. While I only went up two routes, it was awesome to see Kevin and Becky and to see Kevin climb (while he was quite unhappy with his climbing, I was of course pretty impressed). Indian Springs is also very impressive. Considering the surrounding martial landscape, Indian Springs feels like another world.

So then the long drive back home. I won't go into details here. Like I feel now, I was quite tired at this point in the trip and just wanted to go to bed.

Sorry for the long-winded rambling post, but let's be honest, that is kind of my M.O. Until next time....

Tai's snowmobiling attire.

Umm, no idea and no comment. It is Blake....

Wouldn't be a proper weekend without male on male "wrestling"

Pretty standard scene, I am the first one to fall asleep.

Hard to beat this view from the porch

Just a couple normal 32-year olds

Ross pouring a beer in Tony's mouth while caressing his head? Again, no clue and no comment. 

A little FIFA action before I got pissed that we got scored on and they wouldn't skip the celebration, resulting in me turning off the system. I have outgrown most of competitiveness, I promise!

P.S. Photo credit for all Colorado pictures goes to the fantastic Tai-Jen X Chen!

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

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!

Silent, still....and only one gunshot

After snowing all day, the hills around me metamorphosed from a land of verglace coated brown into a brilliantly white winter wonderland. Come evening, I picked Kim up and we headed to a dead-end up in the hills. We were immediately passed by a couple snowmobiles, but after their noise disappeared and we found oxygen again, the world was silent and still. Popping on our XC skis and headlamps (unfortunately, the lingering storm cloaked the moon light), we were on our way.

The next hour and a half simply included breaking new tracks in the half foot of powder. The only light came from our headlamps. The only sounds were our skis cutting through the snow and the rhythmic clicking of our poles. It was so quiet I could hear the small icy snowflakes patting my face. Until blisters began to develop, all I could think about was how simple it was cutting through the black world before me.

[We did hear one other noise, a muffled pop, a little past half way. In response to Kim jokingly speculating it was either an avalanche or gun shot, my response of, “It couldn’t be an avalanche,” accepted the fact that we both knew it was the latter, but neither of us were too willing to let ourselves think about it any further.]

One day I mentioned to Kim that I’ve never been the spiritual- and meditation-type. She figured long workouts are probably my form of mediation. While we loaded our skis back into the car, having only exchanged a few words over the last several hours, I couldn’t remember anything that I had thought about over the entire ski (other than blisters for the last little bit). In fact, I don’t think I was thinking about anything at all. I was simply cutting through the black world before me.

I guess we all have our own forms of mediation. I’m just glad that mine gets me out of the house on amazing nights like this. I also realize how fortunate I am to have friends that will go night skiing and running with me (the gun shot would have freaked me out much more if I was alone!).

Crested Butte

Most of The Crew, but of course several important people missing.

What? Totally normal, right?

Blake during the calamari-Clamato challenge. He soon turned green, puked, then had to do a full nude lap in waste deep snow around the house while having snowballs thrown at him. You know, normal stuff.

Pretty much sums up the feeling of the trip....I don't think that makes any sense.

A morning quickie before work...

When I awoke this morning to a thick blanket of virgin white snow glowing under the morning’s full moon, did I think of heading into the office early? Nay. (yes, I did just use “nay” seamlessly in a sentence) Upon seeing the thin dusting of wet snow under the dull glow of the morning overcast sky, I thought of the possibility of snow being up on Black Mo. I scampered out of bed, grabbed a banana, yak trax, skis and way too much warm clothing and hopped into the car heading out to the promise land called Black Mo.

As I slid my way up and over Purdue Mt and up the sinuous road of Black Mo, which was yet to be deflowered by a snowplow, I reminisced of my first “attempt” at cross-country skiing. In this attempt, despite tremendous effort, concentration, and dedication to forward motion, I was rewarded with sliding backward. Needless to say, this debacle was remedied by the removal of my skis and good old run to the car. This walk down memory lane was soon interrupted with driving conditions that were ironically similar to my first cross country ski results, calling greater focus to continuing to forward motion.

Arriving in Black Mo, I found the conditions for which I hoped. Everything was white: a white blanket of fresh on the ground, the sticky white clinging to every inch of the bare trees and bushes, even the sky reflected this white theme (I guess a blue sky would have been more idyllic, but the uniformity of color is at least respectable). I popped on the skis and away I went!

I wish I could describe myself gliding miraculously down the trail with childlike giggles ringing in my glorious wake, but nay. I would say I was more similar to drunk adolescent trying as hard as he can to appear sober before his parents, all the while displaying a general underlying sloppiness accented with periodic disastrous stumbles. I would like to attribute my xc skiing impotence on the “hidden tire ruts,” but that would just be making excuses, even though there were hidden tire ruts, honest. My experience reminded me of my first mountain bike ride, but with less flips over the handlebars. Part of me was really enjoying it and another part of me was trying very hard to suppress the growing frustration with my sloppiness.

Sliding all over the road made me think about all the new activities that I have adopted into my life. All these first experiences proved very similar to today: enjoyment of performing the activity and slight frustration at my inability to actually perform the activity. Despite this initial inefficacy, there has always been something that makes me stay with it. For road biking, it was the idea of going fast and covering big miles solely under my own power; for running, it was to impress a girl (just kidding...) it was (also) to experience the simplicity of motion without any other machine and seeing how hard I can push; for mountain biking, it was to be able to experience this thing that everyone who does it loves; for climbing, it was to be a bad ass; and now for cross country skiing, it is to become an aerobic juggernaut (yea, I have now used both “nay” and “juggernaut” seamlessly in sentences). Regardless of the initial motivation, for all these activities I recognized the essence of “quality” for each sport. In this, it is my desire to truly experience the essence of quality (and be a bad ass, aerobic juggernaut, that under his own power can put up big miles enjoying what everyone else does, all while most importantly impressing the girl) that pushes me to keep heading down this (heavily rutted) trail in the opposite direction from my car until I get the hang of this, or at least stop falling down.

Leaving the snowy promise land and heading back into the muddy wet valley, I feel satisfied with today’s effort. While my form was sloppy, I did manage to move forward. As Bill Murray says, “Baby steps.” Now, while I sit at my desk, procrastinating real work, I am thrilled at the idea that I got to spend all morning in the snowy winter woods. This experience has left me with two final thoughts: (1) I really wish I had brought my camera, and (2) is it lunch time yet?