tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2248469031453203032024-03-18T20:44:08.385-07:00Playing With GravityHave fun, go hard, then go harder.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-55116138809937812192015-04-14T06:02:00.001-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.952-07:00Dear friends and followers of AJ Linnell<br />
<br />
It is with a heavy heart that we inform you that AJ died in a work related plane crash on Friday, April 10th.<br />
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As you know from reading this blog, AJ was an incredible athlete, an adventurous soul, a beloved friend, a compassionate competitor, a devoted son to Tom and Sheri, a proud big brother to his sister Erica, an adoring husband to his wife Erica, and proud to be owned by Rue.<br />
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AJ had an uncanny knack of touching the lives of all whom he met. We miss him terribly.<br />
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This <a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/ajlinnell/journal" target="_blank">CaringBridge</a> site is the place to go for details about his service on April 17th and other important information.<br />
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A fund has been established to support Erica, and donations can be made <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/r2ja8x2" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Thank you for the support and love you've show and continue to offer to the Linnell family. Go have your own adventure in honor of AJ.<br />
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<br />AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-19881901516211146572015-03-29T16:05:00.000-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.920-07:00My Very Own March Madness<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>87.5 Miles</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>11,000' of elevation gain</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>7:29:59 to the finish</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>2nd-Place Singlespeed, 6th Overall</i></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Oof. Uh, uh, uh-uh. Bam ba-bam-bam-bam. Grrr. Wheeeeeeeeee!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's roughly what Zen felt like the first time 'round. Capitalize all of those characters to describe the second lap.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mid-March brought another trip to the southwest corner of Utah for the excessively early-season but still romping fun <a href="http://truegritepic.com/" target="_blank">True Grit Epic</a>, another solid ass-whooping, and another True Grit 2nd-place finish among the singularly stubborn crowd known as Singlespeeders. (Stubbornness being the secret to successfully piloting a mountain bike with one gear.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In all honesty, this year's True Grit was a blast--a chance to reunite with a bunch of other emaciated guys in spandex whom I haven't seen since last season and see how hard we could motivate eachother to ride the first singletrack that some of us had seen since that last season. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The race started with <a href="http://quadsworth.com/" target="_blank">Gordon Wadsworth</a>, Mike Montalbano, Dan Rapp, and myself bombing along Cove Wash while choking on Sonya Looney's dust. That girl starts hard! Once the adrenaline surge had abated and we started up a fantastic sandstone canyon climb, our pack shrunk and I spent the next 30 or so miles of the race ripping around with Gordon and Mike.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Hauling balls to keep up with those two on our first Zen lap my hands started to go limp from all of the banging and vibration, and I was losing confidence that I would be able to continue hanging on to my handlebars much less manipulate my brake levers to pilot myself to end of the race. Thankfully, feeling and muscle function returned once we finished up that loop and were laboring up the hot climb out to the back side of the course, and when we reached the endless flow of the Bearclaw-Poppi descent everything was working again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Unthankfully this was right about the time that I realized I was battling with two competing urges: the urge to stay with Gordon and Mike, and the urge to finish the damn race. Whether it was the mustache standing guard below his nose or he had hidden an IV bag of Red Bull in his bibs, Gordon was pushing a pace up the long-ass Stucki climb that was becoming increasingly clear would be faster than I could hope to maintain to the finish of the race.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtTXH7NxiUyNG-r8AFEypbupd1ZICQNHyBaozViqsNIMCX09baoIjAgSr5n1AWYFrmdohHpoCYI5upKR58-FciXaxTEWyUJREHHw35ulk7Ihhfsg3J7-Ru9V8_uuw40xoGeZwtbYF4wE7/s1600/IMG_1910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtTXH7NxiUyNG-r8AFEypbupd1ZICQNHyBaozViqsNIMCX09baoIjAgSr5n1AWYFrmdohHpoCYI5upKR58-FciXaxTEWyUJREHHw35ulk7Ihhfsg3J7-Ru9V8_uuw40xoGeZwtbYF4wE7/s1600/IMG_1910.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, judgment got the better of me and I backed off to a pace that still felt like I was racing but would allow me to cross the line.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Damn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've been spending a healthy amount of time wandering through the mountains on skis and a splitboard this winter, which has given me reasonably good endurance fitness <i>and</i> has been good for the soul. Turns out the downside is that it does pretty much nothing to build speed on a mountain bike, and given that fact it might be my reality that March is a touch early to expect to compete in anything like a race.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TSr1Tv1-DjNtKyf5i08x37ktpSFF6nPjJu-i_-Dvt_6Tp4kabXqsOF5EBMSLLxdAEiwPwLURy1NehHXfTlJmF1bAepyRNkE-XBkh4au2tqS3-LiGg1z-SavNw-Jzpg0ccaiWSFOe6-EI/s1600/IMG_1936-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TSr1Tv1-DjNtKyf5i08x37ktpSFF6nPjJu-i_-Dvt_6Tp4kabXqsOF5EBMSLLxdAEiwPwLURy1NehHXfTlJmF1bAepyRNkE-XBkh4au2tqS3-LiGg1z-SavNw-Jzpg0ccaiWSFOe6-EI/s1600/IMG_1936-2.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">But, with my ability to stubbornly go long at moderate speeds intact and functional I spent the remains of the race all alone out there. I did pass Mike when he stopped at the Barrel Rolls feed zone, but didn't stay to say hello. (My race plan was set up to grab a re-supply on the return trip from that loop.) Then for the next 40-ish miles I worked and worked, pedaled and pedaled, pumped the pumps and tried to stay off the brakes in an effort to extend my lead over Mike but he just wouldn't drop. Every time the trail curved to afford a view back down the course, there he was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just far enough back that it felt like I could break away, but not far enough back to feel like I had broken away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Midway through Lap 2, out there in the lunar solitude of the Stucki climb, I caught up to Matt Woodruff at just about the same place as last year and exchanged a handful of buzzed-out, overheated words before passing and continuing my solo journey to the finish line.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Nice job, buddy."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"You, too."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Yeah."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Ugg."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The final lap around Barrel Rolls was undoubtedly the highlight of my day out there. Sure, it was 80 miles into an excessively early-season race and everything above my waist was pleading for an end to the bashing, but damn if I didn't love romping around that trail. Dirt, rocks, rocks mixed with dirt, rocks mixed with bigger rocks--it's just fun. And it gets more fun when you ride it faster.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thankfully, this year Race Director Cimarron revamped the course so that we came out of Barrel Rolls and rode down a ripping fast stretch of singletrack to a blissfully brief pavement spin directly to the finish in Santa Clara.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXgCDizCwxGPmUeQrUh8pIgAT-BJk5a7w6-QNMgxDNZyCVzW0jUVAqGQWw3hHSP_f1TaQgzs5Tm1JeFpW7xV92WloaVDTQhv4cuobJBuaNRfMx0UFnrfI8OAM8O3SdoK98tn7jV4GGUea/s1600/IMG_1970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXgCDizCwxGPmUeQrUh8pIgAT-BJk5a7w6-QNMgxDNZyCVzW0jUVAqGQWw3hHSP_f1TaQgzs5Tm1JeFpW7xV92WloaVDTQhv4cuobJBuaNRfMx0UFnrfI8OAM8O3SdoK98tn7jV4GGUea/s1600/IMG_1970.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And thus it was over. High-fives, story-telling, and a <a href="http://dirtwire.tv/2015/03/aj-linnell/" target="_blank">marginally coherent, damn-that-was-a-long-ride interview</a> kept me around the finish line for a brief time before I spun off in search of a shady spot in the grass to curl up with E and Rue until podium time.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzr-79ObPiPNs3lE8DTsUbxSQATitKD6qR5L35C9qb82ZDEg6XIHLYn1wUj-L_lt0pxz5Wb0-kzRdONZzHYxp0493N9pvQgu-1A9miaLjDa6m8O_-KVhcPfuF6MfCJw_If2NHJC_2G3L95/s1600/IMG_1978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzr-79ObPiPNs3lE8DTsUbxSQATitKD6qR5L35C9qb82ZDEg6XIHLYn1wUj-L_lt0pxz5Wb0-kzRdONZzHYxp0493N9pvQgu-1A9miaLjDa6m8O_-KVhcPfuF6MfCJw_If2NHJC_2G3L95/s1600/IMG_1978.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yes, Forest, I did let the guy with those shorts beat me.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Race #1 of 2015, done and in the books. Maybe next year I'll finally learn from this mid-March racing experience and stick with exploring snowy mountains until I after I've put in some time riding my bike.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Or maybe not.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Stubbornness is, after all, the secret to </span><span style="font-size: large;">successfully piloting a mountain bike with one gear.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-53910179562673242682015-03-12T05:09:00.001-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.946-07:00Each Day A New Adventure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Skinning away from the comfort and safety of the car at 3am, I find myself confronted with a challenging blend of emotions: exhilaration, fear, cold, hearing enhanced by the limited vision provided by a headlamp's glow. Fingertips bite inside gloves, noses drip, skins hiss across hard-frozen snow. The unknown of the day weighs heavy--will we work for hours to get up there only to be turned back? Will conditions work out? Will I fall off of this mountain?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The late Andreas Frannson wrote of it in his journal: "Would it be a game worth playing at all if the outcome was certain?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Would it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;">February's Friday the 13th seemed like a great setup for an adventure, having received 8-10" of snowfall in the preceding week and a couple of mild, sunny days on the 11th and 12th to settle things out. In the wee hours of the 13th, ignoring common superstition around the date, Paul Rachele and I headed into Garnet Canyon to see how the game played on the Grand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is an old Irish blessing/curse that goes, "May you live in interesting times." The Tetons have seen interesting weather this year, resulting in interesting conditions in the alpine, with strong winds blowing out many of the lines up high and unexpectedly filling in others. Many lines are unskiable, or at least not worth the effort for the amount of ropework that it would take. Others are as fat as I've ever seen them. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgrrg5GFOTOjmM4eMWHs_Bz4vJad7NTLY1dgCiKvD8d2N3icFQVrMKej8UmrsAFdNc5Uk5KMuIge3HtuOTnc1-jnUcEvmFkVd5890nG6u_7Nc3hIQnmhK-D7aKQvP3SkV2sL4ntMXnzYq/s1600/IMG_2515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgrrg5GFOTOjmM4eMWHs_Bz4vJad7NTLY1dgCiKvD8d2N3icFQVrMKej8UmrsAFdNc5Uk5KMuIge3HtuOTnc1-jnUcEvmFkVd5890nG6u_7Nc3hIQnmhK-D7aKQvP3SkV2sL4ntMXnzYq/s1600/IMG_2515.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Ford Couloir is the funnel-shaped feature dropping from the summit, and the Stettner Couloir is the skinny one in the lower right. The Chevy is the gully that connects the two, where the line is dashed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">(Photo taken from the top of the Middle a couple of years ago.)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Ford-Stettner on the Grand looked pretty well filled-in from the valley floor, and we had been hearing reports that it was skiing well. There were even whispers of powder turns off the top...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJczvL7ADl6pf8BxtVoiM1aA22KKAM9TfX5_FLhsvWq2QZJz_hOlfMyAMKBW8bNgNUiui7zhOocRUWXWojqMDWgO9LXuMXsYG9QXa7AVnKfbFXGvLi_pPkJMj8HSQW2VJail4M3hq_uiRz/s1600/IMG_0760.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJczvL7ADl6pf8BxtVoiM1aA22KKAM9TfX5_FLhsvWq2QZJz_hOlfMyAMKBW8bNgNUiui7zhOocRUWXWojqMDWgO9LXuMXsYG9QXa7AVnKfbFXGvLi_pPkJMj8HSQW2VJail4M3hq_uiRz/s1600/IMG_0760.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunrise from the Teepee Glacier.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">So we skinned into Garnet Canyon with a brilliant quilt of stars above and firm, easy-travel snow under foot. Above the Meadows the previous days' sun had hardened the snow surface to the point that skins were no longer practical, so we stowed them away for the rest of the day and initiated a few thousand feet of bootpacking. Efficient travel landed us on the moraine at the toe of the Teepe Glacier just before sunrise, where we unexpectedly spent an hour fixing Paul's Dynafiddle heelpieces as the eastern sky turned orange.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_G7by2j7vzZIX6bVAU7a0_yxIDEI7YgTpzHUoV9Si7lhmdVHumtxrwJJfGo1M-bPN9vYv2lSPZo845Hd6fhyUChKj0RgGvDqJ1iRzGchTqPVRgad1oFd55vYJYk26mLBD8V-1b9h7lp7f/s1600/IMG_0763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_G7by2j7vzZIX6bVAU7a0_yxIDEI7YgTpzHUoV9Si7lhmdVHumtxrwJJfGo1M-bPN9vYv2lSPZo845Hd6fhyUChKj0RgGvDqJ1iRzGchTqPVRgad1oFd55vYJYk26mLBD8V-1b9h7lp7f/s1600/IMG_0763.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Damn these Dynafiddles...</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ah well, at least we were beyond the point where he would need to stand on the Dyna-heels for skinning. And as long as they kept his boot heels firmly attached to his skis they could avoid being classified as dead weight.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MM2Tk677fdQL0iCj5BooDzksYP6o-T3W1FN2fSbVARJC-B-J6C4wB0EaiOpwWGbFqMrded5Jq75x-PiEtVBMS3EugjB3dohAnWIGguaAM6iUlji1HAODPGNL13N3hh6IQfayJ8ImQRlr/s1600/IMG_0765.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MM2Tk677fdQL0iCj5BooDzksYP6o-T3W1FN2fSbVARJC-B-J6C4wB0EaiOpwWGbFqMrded5Jq75x-PiEtVBMS3EugjB3dohAnWIGguaAM6iUlji1HAODPGNL13N3hh6IQfayJ8ImQRlr/s1600/IMG_0765.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We couldn't have asked for or expected better weather than what we received up there: crystal-clear skies without a breath of wind and temperatures that begged no more than a light windshirt.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Lw-UaUN94XrvQCzKGb-sdpBngBnznfhCGVjczEdnFD1rSqUDJTvIoTb4uOHrMNnCxMWaHr4oLUWkV_krCWTgk96lLclY8ZDYJr8SzwALwWmZSJQTeFBYNN2K10C371S6F2v58cyOXGel/s1600/IMG_0774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Lw-UaUN94XrvQCzKGb-sdpBngBnznfhCGVjczEdnFD1rSqUDJTvIoTb4uOHrMNnCxMWaHr4oLUWkV_krCWTgk96lLclY8ZDYJr8SzwALwWmZSJQTeFBYNN2K10C371S6F2v58cyOXGel/s1600/IMG_0774.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Gorgeous.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjE1yHbEym3m2YdE4Uwt7i598OzVdQkLu0MlO7aP2BZNxkiINFFxrqzMOv3fAwkhbXRIOUOZTbzQ85juVFl62eVLPXJ5LMWk1z3eE93rcH4zeGrBVu20D2QL16ACVstdyC0zCUHlMzprZ/s1600/IMG_0775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjE1yHbEym3m2YdE4Uwt7i598OzVdQkLu0MlO7aP2BZNxkiINFFxrqzMOv3fAwkhbXRIOUOZTbzQ85juVFl62eVLPXJ5LMWk1z3eE93rcH4zeGrBVu20D2QL16ACVstdyC0zCUHlMzprZ/s1600/IMG_0775.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Upslope winds left some previous party's tracks raised above the rest of the snow in the Stettner--pretty cool feature.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Really, the climbing up to the top of the Chevy went quickly and as easily as could be expected for climbing above 12,000'. The Stettner ice went easy, though I was a little disappointed to see that there was so little snow in there that taking the time to transition to making turns on the downhill journey would hardly be justified (after rappelling the Chevy,) so we would be rappelling everything below the Ford.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> We chose to rope-up to climb the steeper pitch of ice in the Chevy, but almost just as a formality.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYJFcry7MFAGEuC2x-3aI2bWzuSKVFsKL5dVuI1sZDvxSsN0fQMU3m3djmhXcuy6JnBhNrKGqkMrfnCe8K9LquAVb-pA7xLQOLJyJl9MFe21NDnAqmI43v8av-2WHn83MVFpuynB2orA1/s1600/IMG_0783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYJFcry7MFAGEuC2x-3aI2bWzuSKVFsKL5dVuI1sZDvxSsN0fQMU3m3djmhXcuy6JnBhNrKGqkMrfnCe8K9LquAVb-pA7xLQOLJyJl9MFe21NDnAqmI43v8av-2WHn83MVFpuynB2orA1/s1600/IMG_0783.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Exiting the top of the Chevy, and contemplating our first real views beyond Garnet Canyon.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBUwMkMTXMGSyF9wrGdc2sOghfVheAuLdjSYUwtXYkzpkJtUmfeKh2KlQ3nl5LDBOisCrXRHLvW6-d3HC0CP_Pv4R5vfhipPq2EaktLVh48nYgxZH9HZrAfDe5pjDsHTcF6sUGzM-OA_5/s1600/IMG_0785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBUwMkMTXMGSyF9wrGdc2sOghfVheAuLdjSYUwtXYkzpkJtUmfeKh2KlQ3nl5LDBOisCrXRHLvW6-d3HC0CP_Pv4R5vfhipPq2EaktLVh48nYgxZH9HZrAfDe5pjDsHTcF6sUGzM-OA_5/s1600/IMG_0785.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Phew, still got a ways to go.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEGKnIjXWHLcIKQXzp9QBE91xw6LRA9p3n2j_EPzdo1xsJJsJ8l9zwg0il0l0vqxLAXxfQLNCBJ0Q4htKDaBYDF7JH-6NdHOuWkKUuJlTbbOevpEySJ8GQV38APTyAkHNvUyuwVV_sNbG/s1600/IMG_0789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEGKnIjXWHLcIKQXzp9QBE91xw6LRA9p3n2j_EPzdo1xsJJsJ8l9zwg0il0l0vqxLAXxfQLNCBJ0Q4htKDaBYDF7JH-6NdHOuWkKUuJlTbbOevpEySJ8GQV38APTyAkHNvUyuwVV_sNbG/s1600/IMG_0789.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">What a place. Exiting out of the top of the Ford and onto the South Ridge, well above everything else in sight with roughly 700' of climbing yet to be done.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjya1fs00hUwzgse2k9lCk0anTzCaVTmSLd_d3IOSTlR-JMPUnJNV6bJogVg_UCniQh9NAfjQoaonSXlTixZssZEVHEtk2ZyU4tW365zxjVRQybHoLGpGOPtmU0fz9g2oMk1zaA_F2QxFPF/s1600/IMG_0792.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjya1fs00hUwzgse2k9lCk0anTzCaVTmSLd_d3IOSTlR-JMPUnJNV6bJogVg_UCniQh9NAfjQoaonSXlTixZssZEVHEtk2ZyU4tW365zxjVRQybHoLGpGOPtmU0fz9g2oMk1zaA_F2QxFPF/s1600/IMG_0792.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And feeling it.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Midway up the Ford things slowed down notably. Then around 13,500' on the South Ridge the altitude started to really hit, and those last 300' took an eternity.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">"Alright, just 50 steps and then take a breather. Just 50 steps. You can do that. Okay, maybe 20 steps--that'll work. Just get those 20 steps before you stop. Fuck it, 10 steps. Just kick 10 fucking steps." And on...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujCNKLJhFfiIrsXXf9dnCBSAhDPdEg-zSRVUcmXSoKbUq6Rh44zn7fXQkjNB6mIRpz78QtsAqljudXRjTtD0MhqpryS1TWvkukW4QGI9AOGBRtH1DzfPUO3gtVT009Vrf6fA-98jjnQ53/s1600/IMG_0794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujCNKLJhFfiIrsXXf9dnCBSAhDPdEg-zSRVUcmXSoKbUq6Rh44zn7fXQkjNB6mIRpz78QtsAqljudXRjTtD0MhqpryS1TWvkukW4QGI9AOGBRtH1DzfPUO3gtVT009Vrf6fA-98jjnQ53/s1600/IMG_0794.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And on...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLlzFTTI4iZqjMle1L87vjvKwhK-9M3iYsYnwsO20plpIjEUAZ2k19_dsm5HVRJbcpH3okxLixoDZ-Xb_cKwg46HAUw6DzFZpyn6QTgiZB1fpnSJMFRo-DjHm2QkF13Jnfq3OixIlwk2T/s1600/IMG_0797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLlzFTTI4iZqjMle1L87vjvKwhK-9M3iYsYnwsO20plpIjEUAZ2k19_dsm5HVRJbcpH3okxLixoDZ-Xb_cKwg46HAUw6DzFZpyn6QTgiZB1fpnSJMFRo-DjHm2QkF13Jnfq3OixIlwk2T/s1600/IMG_0797.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Until finally, mercifully, there wasn't any more up to go and we stepped into the day's first wind flowing over the top of our world.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfc0kI20AhANLpGTROd8Gcx3yQfHoZVBpHecbQOJK6diiCOn0R05FSKB51CGkgGCU-_oSU9rB24Rmij9592545zw4s2n6hDE6rVILGvNFz1xVPEbP1e0Sg-n7HdSmrf5-1Ir5TsjhpS8rm/s1600/IMG_0798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfc0kI20AhANLpGTROd8Gcx3yQfHoZVBpHecbQOJK6diiCOn0R05FSKB51CGkgGCU-_oSU9rB24Rmij9592545zw4s2n6hDE6rVILGvNFz1xVPEbP1e0Sg-n7HdSmrf5-1Ir5TsjhpS8rm/s1600/IMG_0798.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The obligatory summit shot.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We tucked into an alcove out of the wind and reveled in the view for a bit, eating nibbles of chocolate and drinking the last of our water as we slowly made the switch to playfully embracing gravity. Paul got creative with ensuring that his ski bindings wouldn't fail at some inopportune moment, and we re-discovered the wonder of <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-straps.html" target="_blank">Voilé's classic orange straps</a>.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2Q-T8ds4_SvnRGvQMKOiJ3zJQvSn1OOoOT25WxZDNBBREAIG9oLHMyPYNFlfgTNx4uniTusecMIbQ33zgkeEpTB2RB0Szy-KGR6pwZDiO6Fd4nMx1nod9ZpMTTWQsnKrJgnw80XObi_c/s1600/IMG_0809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2Q-T8ds4_SvnRGvQMKOiJ3zJQvSn1OOoOT25WxZDNBBREAIG9oLHMyPYNFlfgTNx4uniTusecMIbQ33zgkeEpTB2RB0Szy-KGR6pwZDiO6Fd4nMx1nod9ZpMTTWQsnKrJgnw80XObi_c/s1600/IMG_0809.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lock those things in there, dude. And yet he skied with confidence--<i>that</i> is grace.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqysCCnYy3xUd42O9aeRC1_0KhBf66SO7YKWJGXaPRdgVsT8qggVE2vlgGnMdWpnRzBGmAnFXU8O_1OdGPod1FVBVYkMEuqXvKHrS2OGIoLZzH00vDZ_qk7cZNzbd39rXStMF7k17_4Ap/s1600/IMG_0800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqysCCnYy3xUd42O9aeRC1_0KhBf66SO7YKWJGXaPRdgVsT8qggVE2vlgGnMdWpnRzBGmAnFXU8O_1OdGPod1FVBVYkMEuqXvKHrS2OGIoLZzH00vDZ_qk7cZNzbd39rXStMF7k17_4Ap/s1600/IMG_0800.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And then we were off. Damp powder turns from the top of the highest thing around, with thousands of feet of exposure below. Like flying, while staying firmly attached to terra firma. Just enough tingling fear from looking down at that exposure to induce a heightened state of focus and awareness. A whole different kind of high, brought on by being way up high.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dreamy.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMngtaL_z8NsUzWi0uGlGrVkQOs5CANvMJSQ2e5F9C5-dj1qECxaSC1NDdzQncQOKsmyIr4FzW8pccHIL3Xwm6No0_LIbNWUrp0nubn90UkAZtNyValelEhPNgCR0uRst8yEEXEb7hKM8c/s1600/IMG_0839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMngtaL_z8NsUzWi0uGlGrVkQOs5CANvMJSQ2e5F9C5-dj1qECxaSC1NDdzQncQOKsmyIr4FzW8pccHIL3Xwm6No0_LIbNWUrp0nubn90UkAZtNyValelEhPNgCR0uRst8yEEXEb7hKM8c/s1600/IMG_0839.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A whole lot of fun for a little while, and then just like that the Ford ran out and we were forced to resort to ropework to continue downward progress. It's a funny feature of this route that I inevitably forget how skewed the skiing-to-rappelling ratio is. There is actually remarkably little skiing when one thinks about it. Not to diminish the experience of being up there--it's rad to spend a day like that way up in the alpine. But as a <i>ski</i> objective? Hmm.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzINi9hPYomDMbj-qHruJ7BGgviQdwN_pNLQ0PjUE-koPSclhWyoZSH2f6Lk2sX3N8yCAEXJIu4Syf8Jb6FRphEbZS3kWIVVIL1WTvFhgB7Uc33O1UasqhyphenhyphenUTjHXDfo78_wc0eyYH96oAt/s1600/IMG_0852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzINi9hPYomDMbj-qHruJ7BGgviQdwN_pNLQ0PjUE-koPSclhWyoZSH2f6Lk2sX3N8yCAEXJIu4Syf8Jb6FRphEbZS3kWIVVIL1WTvFhgB7Uc33O1UasqhyphenhyphenUTjHXDfo78_wc0eyYH96oAt/s1600/IMG_0852.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That being said, once we stowed away the ropes and opened it up down the Teepe, all those thoughts melted away in powdery, arcing mach-speed turns to lower elevations. Fatigue? What fatigue? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Gimme more.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOMdWNb3QN3gDi7gji8uvDSqRl3Wba0ENhYoIarhGS1jCYnfVxXTNLrEnrGChZMhDw75U8GUfmDjjYZtXWJcmtgiOv33eV4fZf4s_veFHMpvcZDrbj47fo3U27YMZTQgCBUJfrvZzXz5y/s1600/IMG_0855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOMdWNb3QN3gDi7gji8uvDSqRl3Wba0ENhYoIarhGS1jCYnfVxXTNLrEnrGChZMhDw75U8GUfmDjjYZtXWJcmtgiOv33eV4fZf4s_veFHMpvcZDrbj47fo3U27YMZTQgCBUJfrvZzXz5y/s1600/IMG_0855.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking back up at the Teepe. Damn, those were fun turns.<br />That run confirmed it--I love this board. After years of questioning splitboard performance and adamantly carrying around a solid deck, the <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-splitboards/voile-revelator-splitboard-2014-2015.html" target="_blank">Voilé Revelator</a> has turned me. Super light and responsive, stiff just the way I like it. Feels like every gram of energy that I put into this board comes back in snap, precision, and Grrrrr.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, was Fransson right? Would it be worth it if the outcome was certain?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">No way.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Would we have even gone if we knew Paul's Dynafiddles would malfunction? Or if we knew how much ice was in the Stettner? Would we have chosen an alternate objective that offered up more turns? Not knowing leaves an infinite myriad of possibilities for what might happen and how our skills can be pushed. Not knowing makes the adventure exciting, and a little bit scary, and challenging, and... <i>worth it</i>. And it's often the unexpected outcomes of a day's adventuring that become the most memorable parts of the day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's the not knowing that makes it all worth doing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-46858297910562280332015-02-08T05:41:00.000-08:002015-08-31T22:20:38.940-07:00...And Then It Got Worse<span style="font-size: large;">After going for the <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2015/02/sunday-funday.html" target="_blank">Sunday Funday Ménage á Trois</a>, and seeing The Nugget looking fat in the distance a couple of days later,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Scotty and I figured we'd take advantage of probable good conditions to give 'er a go. I mean, 6" of new snow with warm temps and a day of sunshine for it to settle--how could we go wrong? We just had to be back in Driggs at 6pm to teach an avalanche course, so we had plenty of time to see exactly how wrong it was possible to go...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As I pulled everything together the evening before I settled on skis as the tools for the day, on what I thought was a whim. I've been splitboarding a lot this year so why not switch it up? And I haven't gotten to ski these <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-skis/voile-v6-skis-2014-2015.html" target="_blank">Voilé V6's</a> much yet--it sounded fun to take them for a spin.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn't until sometime late in the day with the advantage of hindsight that I would ask myself if it really was a whim, or prescience.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32P-oGcmonuTVaLDtNo7cprvsIshYfe0msazu-03cRYjG43gzFWART3rNNFuIRn7jkDAIqU33JSrCEjv_cF5hqR42lU7J3hIHz0-kJiu1Xp_lxjwGWezPPsFSByUHd9Mo1m1iulxVoPtn/s1600/IMG_9773.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32P-oGcmonuTVaLDtNo7cprvsIshYfe0msazu-03cRYjG43gzFWART3rNNFuIRn7jkDAIqU33JSrCEjv_cF5hqR42lU7J3hIHz0-kJiu1Xp_lxjwGWezPPsFSByUHd9Mo1m1iulxVoPtn/s1600/IMG_9773.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Skinning under starry skies was quite lovely, down to shirtsleeves with a light vest and still sweating a bit. Where have our winter temperatures gone? Even higher up in the South Fork of Garnet Canyon the typical wind-blasting wasn't taking place, and it wasn't until we climbed above 10,000' that the temps finally did drop and jackets went on.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCF0Xud1BHg2tMADJAwt7ZHB0ZZ5Z_cuNZQ9cqsr5duS0ccVaavKlxxyhbrth2t1gD8py8-OuINEuea73zSq-2flOLLWEdjFoXUeTotO2JKFfMF7Sv7Akba89AAEV3j80JodsTTrVC0TXa/s1600/IMG_9778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCF0Xud1BHg2tMADJAwt7ZHB0ZZ5Z_cuNZQ9cqsr5duS0ccVaavKlxxyhbrth2t1gD8py8-OuINEuea73zSq-2flOLLWEdjFoXUeTotO2JKFfMF7Sv7Akba89AAEV3j80JodsTTrVC0TXa/s1600/IMG_9778.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scotty skinning out of the South Fork of Garnet Canyon with the Middle and Grand Tetons in the background.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-tK_ba-BkRHSC-q1uKVgdjM0ly0wi16__5MtgbQYA-RI9h3Jsl-vCiLodaZz6_4x045aYnf_Daf-cvWYLiQDfy1qtPTlf9UD5TuEHcy0i3P6O7WLzzLz1nucsI1tuF_v83kdIS3jCWLp/s1600/IMG_9779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-tK_ba-BkRHSC-q1uKVgdjM0ly0wi16__5MtgbQYA-RI9h3Jsl-vCiLodaZz6_4x045aYnf_Daf-cvWYLiQDfy1qtPTlf9UD5TuEHcy0i3P6O7WLzzLz1nucsI1tuF_v83kdIS3jCWLp/s1600/IMG_9779.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Taking the last few steps up to the col at the top of the Nugget.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Climbing up the shady side of the ridge, we were feeling pretty optimistic about snow conditions--chalky powder made for great bootpacking, and would likely be fantastic skiing. Add that to the tales we had heard of knee-deep powder on the Grand the preceding day and we were all kinds of excited cresting the ridge and peering over the cornice into our entrance.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The view? Not bad, not bad at all. Across Avalanche Canyon, Wister and Buck stood proud if a little thin on snow coverage. Looking down at 2500' of exposure with a smooth coat of fresh snow was exhilarating, and totally sandbagged us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Scotty skied in first, making a solid cut across the start to a rock island on the far side. What started off sounding buttery-smooth turned scratchy and crackling and ultimately gave way to skittering edges as Scotty discovered the breakable suncrust with bits of frozen chunder that would comprise the opening 40 or so turns of the day's downhill adventure.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyB7h_izcNgNlvBgiQPYY1No8RyyJLSe_lhgrblGSt6qtC201XM7nQNOQV4MhySdxBx9KWHg_NMRPAZGm9OLaJqu838OjxgRnUoOoJm8vU_QiShCN8d7uY-kb28A1MPvn_oFzw24M5lvb_/s1600/IMG_9797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyB7h_izcNgNlvBgiQPYY1No8RyyJLSe_lhgrblGSt6qtC201XM7nQNOQV4MhySdxBx9KWHg_NMRPAZGm9OLaJqu838OjxgRnUoOoJm8vU_QiShCN8d7uY-kb28A1MPvn_oFzw24M5lvb_/s1600/IMG_9797.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Low-grade jump turns and powerful edging became the techniques of choice for skiing down the entrance pitch and traversing left to the shoulder at the top of the Nugget, where we sat in an alcove under gorgeous orange granite and sipped tea, hoping that the sun would soften things up a bit.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">(One could also continue skiing fall-line down a different couloir to the canyon floor, but that wasn't this day's objective.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Having been discussing snow stability throughout the day, our teatime conversation drifted to a theory I have regarding the differences between thin and thick weak layers in the collapse-driven model of avalanche propagation via wave action in the bending slab. But it wasn't long before we realized the absurdity of two guys with English degrees from a Northwest Liberal Arts College trying to discuss material physics, and decided that we should probably just ski.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8DthLxdQjL4qe1QzkZkcEX-6EF0PWxCZuUkgmdX0kHgzRY7Hc9-W50ylldFeF983knYGdQOHF1vikdEETZRnCz1p1fK6_qUyxqtVSnnFjnKHC8p2pCmMMe4H3pjYKuK6PQre0KN2lnAU/s1600/IMG_9807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8DthLxdQjL4qe1QzkZkcEX-6EF0PWxCZuUkgmdX0kHgzRY7Hc9-W50ylldFeF983knYGdQOHF1vikdEETZRnCz1p1fK6_qUyxqtVSnnFjnKHC8p2pCmMMe4H3pjYKuK6PQre0KN2lnAU/s1600/IMG_9807.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">All smiles, and utterly clueless. Nice skis, though!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Poking around with my pole on the slope below, it looked like the sun had done absolutely nothing to help us, but I figured that the breakable crust hadn't been so bad thus far and would probably ski just fine for the remaining 2000'. So, with a cut across the start zone of the couloir I made a few turns into the gut and was immediately grateful that I had chosen skis for this day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The previous day's sun, rather than just settling the new snow, had instead heated said snow to the point that it chose to relinquish its grasp on the mountain and sluff out completely, leaving behind a devious layer of white that looked nice but turned out to be a bastard of a layer of </span><span style="font-size: large;">impenetrable </span><span style="font-size: large;">ice.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Once I turned onto the ice and regained control after a brief skittering downhill slide, I had to stop and take a few breaths to regain my composure. I was staring down at a couple thousand feet of marginally skiable conditions with a rappel at the bottom, and the gravity of my position became crystal clear.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">This is where the skis vs. splitboard prescience comes in.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> Having 2 edges (skis) to work with when making jump-turns on 45• ice is merely scary, encouraging focus and precision, whereas having one 1 edge (splitboard) in these conditions is terrifying, and possibly uncontrollable.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGrMimJyZ7BLhqOvR2ZqIgjAmGPFKatG_nn2PuOxSvduPHPNlhYxUxuxtqkdr7cq2DacNplNxjfKSqGx0vdsxF-GPuaILKJ9xIKAoH5KIMZ92Er6cFRSlRIJBfVq3HrJTGLl3PRcFn9Sg/s1600/IMG_9827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGrMimJyZ7BLhqOvR2ZqIgjAmGPFKatG_nn2PuOxSvduPHPNlhYxUxuxtqkdr7cq2DacNplNxjfKSqGx0vdsxF-GPuaILKJ9xIKAoH5KIMZ92Er6cFRSlRIJBfVq3HrJTGLl3PRcFn9Sg/s1600/IMG_9827.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, sporting.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzHBd1qdEWRuoRAG1gr8HQOtHc9JtnEWa6kXiQN_hyphenhyphenXHBp8BsBaJikpaRoQc1Qv4JqtN8fPV0TD3ZKsHf69N6WGBlU947X2okHdvh1ZBr5uMCKeIH_nlWzVDNL7jyficYcF8aPokqzcXS/s1600/IMG_9831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzHBd1qdEWRuoRAG1gr8HQOtHc9JtnEWa6kXiQN_hyphenhyphenXHBp8BsBaJikpaRoQc1Qv4JqtN8fPV0TD3ZKsHf69N6WGBlU947X2okHdvh1ZBr5uMCKeIH_nlWzVDNL7jyficYcF8aPokqzcXS/s1600/IMG_9831.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Boing!</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJbKMsFyPULh_GlOat08KSrsRVs0dkknTBTl7Eo293PZY1nQTuijFToqYmwi0R4M-sQCxJClOToDQ3K86NM99bTENJ-2Iw9or0RzD-0-opVfoZvKHR0mByQjtawpMLGjr4HLH-vAAI5lL/s1600/IMG_9858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJbKMsFyPULh_GlOat08KSrsRVs0dkknTBTl7Eo293PZY1nQTuijFToqYmwi0R4M-sQCxJClOToDQ3K86NM99bTENJ-2Iw9or0RzD-0-opVfoZvKHR0mByQjtawpMLGjr4HLH-vAAI5lL/s1600/IMG_9858.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, scrapey.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Oof dah. Having taken a moment and assessed that with attention to not fucking up we could actually ski this thing safely, I brought my emotion back into control and </span><span style="font-size: large;">made a handful of turns before pulling out to the side so that Scotty could scrape his way down to join me. H</span><span style="font-size: large;">e was in full agreement about how jacked-up the conditions were, but also agreed that we could make it happen, so with due consideration given to our current situation we thoughtfully hopped our way down</span><span style="font-size: large;"> the steep upper 1000' of the route, moving </span><span style="font-size: large;">from "safe zone" to "safe zone" and using the breakable crust on the sides when we could, marginally comfortable in the knowledge that falling really wasn't an option.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaB3JxBVLiR8BDTtlzhOonQqy6JDLWSS6FadcDvMMMBJaRr2rwVuhwv0ySRQrWWsCHAjGLVxVJx77YGWajx-7D6fVBnn5vSjqpLxAUs_iAA8oobox4SceWU60lFlfmJgYJcq6F4PqkTESl/s1600/IMG_9877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaB3JxBVLiR8BDTtlzhOonQqy6JDLWSS6FadcDvMMMBJaRr2rwVuhwv0ySRQrWWsCHAjGLVxVJx77YGWajx-7D6fVBnn5vSjqpLxAUs_iAA8oobox4SceWU60lFlfmJgYJcq6F4PqkTESl/s1600/IMG_9877.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scotty finds a patch of remaining breakable crust to ski through the crux choke.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXS0PlFwMWhrhshaYcyvS4uldsEzAjlsK9bIAbSTI3bnqNW4AN_hAccf-5wQjA_lXS19sc__szG3O_QQR7XWYbtEtexq3MJMU3-po4RklDeqHt4k-kcLBEL_h8NClqZY-ZU-T41ByRkY9l/s1600/IMG_9896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXS0PlFwMWhrhshaYcyvS4uldsEzAjlsK9bIAbSTI3bnqNW4AN_hAccf-5wQjA_lXS19sc__szG3O_QQR7XWYbtEtexq3MJMU3-po4RklDeqHt4k-kcLBEL_h8NClqZY-ZU-T41ByRkY9l/s1600/IMG_9896.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scared? A little bit. Stoked on the adventure, though.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPBrGx4islPQs2BZNJtszIr9ejZXNauZ8-EgyQ7uXUubq0iNQbzSi_whYCGoVUOw6fj-I8r9nRM0djk1Ua_tUuFBIMxo_ffzYHHR8aePE9Ti7JS2lJNAus4hJhyphenhyphenzMczRGJD2668jPv3-3/s1600/IMG_9901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPBrGx4islPQs2BZNJtszIr9ejZXNauZ8-EgyQ7uXUubq0iNQbzSi_whYCGoVUOw6fj-I8r9nRM0djk1Ua_tUuFBIMxo_ffzYHHR8aePE9Ti7JS2lJNAus4hJhyphenhyphenzMczRGJD2668jPv3-3/s1600/IMG_9901.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_i-OAo9TX8fKAsTdCeQfk-VsGsPNRi1DApBLy5hqxt4ejGkiddjsNaMzz7OYOx8Zzg99knj4nQKGpl95kjNBehyCt-mLKq_AtGK0JEy4eC5jxr5I1T3gH95S6tYYlpB-ZiMHJO4XhNqDO/s1600/IMG_9924.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_i-OAo9TX8fKAsTdCeQfk-VsGsPNRi1DApBLy5hqxt4ejGkiddjsNaMzz7OYOx8Zzg99knj4nQKGpl95kjNBehyCt-mLKq_AtGK0JEy4eC5jxr5I1T3gH95S6tYYlpB-ZiMHJO4XhNqDO/s1600/IMG_9924.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then, once we cleared through the choke and banked left around a dogleg the pitch eased back and the walls got wider, and the now blessed breakable crust became more ubiquitous,</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjGCeaXWF0zGqaZ9nLkVmSTDH6VKSud60BSOwqQ64ZnhyphenhyphenPZn3S-JYgb3hG_iGEVTIZOYDc20OsxSMq3vdLzCZJ6fi_XKIZ0bJDNM9A7vvCPAPsFXCyMdN5gI8B3y6ZogSmc8bDI4IDn_5/s1600/IMG_9965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjGCeaXWF0zGqaZ9nLkVmSTDH6VKSud60BSOwqQ64ZnhyphenhyphenPZn3S-JYgb3hG_iGEVTIZOYDc20OsxSMq3vdLzCZJ6fi_XKIZ0bJDNM9A7vvCPAPsFXCyMdN5gI8B3y6ZogSmc8bDI4IDn_5/s1600/IMG_9965.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">eventually turning into even more blessed damp powder. That felt good.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdnVeMQDItcKxtA50LBPgM-azNhBsw-QSHlL5DswTJ1EO1mWSxPDSH_Rd9JYzwpsVjl2NGkkL2EL86c4rNfC5nY87dTIlCicjr_Ggqdh4Sf9w1ENEvlQpmHIMIGa12je2W0mnMY202PB4y/s1600/IMG_9986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdnVeMQDItcKxtA50LBPgM-azNhBsw-QSHlL5DswTJ1EO1mWSxPDSH_Rd9JYzwpsVjl2NGkkL2EL86c4rNfC5nY87dTIlCicjr_Ggqdh4Sf9w1ENEvlQpmHIMIGa12je2W0mnMY202PB4y/s1600/IMG_9986.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, I could ski this all day.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So we finished up with a few hundred vertical feet of fast powder skiing down to the anchor at the "Nugget" chockstone, and the rappel down to the canyon below went easily, where we stopped for a breather and a bite of chocolate, happy to have made it through the route safely and with plenty of time to make it back to Driggs for the evening's class.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKcEsmiju8d8j2lnzLcNHPvSXVdPkoFS4l6EI5OdfYs0MOGwUHvLtOA2SD4MwE3V4G2IZO7FzG2k_WRDanBztUeRMoWSLUB3ufAYpmJsZg8wcmMN8sWARlHKkcsaYvPJak5f717D0fqCV/s1600/IMG_0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKcEsmiju8d8j2lnzLcNHPvSXVdPkoFS4l6EI5OdfYs0MOGwUHvLtOA2SD4MwE3V4G2IZO7FzG2k_WRDanBztUeRMoWSLUB3ufAYpmJsZg8wcmMN8sWARlHKkcsaYvPJak5f717D0fqCV/s1600/IMG_0043.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">At the end of it all, what were we expecting?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Fast, stable powder--that's what.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But really, what we found is what we should have expected; conditions in the alpine are typically pretty variable, and rarely as sweet as we hope. Scary, exhilarating, focus-enducing, character-building. This <i>is</i> ski alpinism, after all.</span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-74593417838244757322015-02-01T17:19:00.000-08:002015-08-31T22:20:38.979-07:00Sunday Funday<span style="font-size: large;">Nez Perce is one of the closest peaks in your face when you stare up into the Tetons from the Bradley-Taggart parking lot, or from the bar at Dornan's. And smack down the east side of it is an iconic elevator-shaft couloir called The Sliver:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxDmph25ggKzp6r8OVsh1qVyNWAOtGbgmcGoteDIqkwOaUdIzO3M__Y6eb60BW8PY36QBD8c1RwOUs1UJMXGXE7ybbvyzCayBa5CQHgJ9IFlQOiN8l83kF2JZzzIx2AjZS3T07x0VGwbq/s1600/Sliver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxDmph25ggKzp6r8OVsh1qVyNWAOtGbgmcGoteDIqkwOaUdIzO3M__Y6eb60BW8PY36QBD8c1RwOUs1UJMXGXE7ybbvyzCayBa5CQHgJ9IFlQOiN8l83kF2JZzzIx2AjZS3T07x0VGwbq/s1600/Sliver.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo: <a href="http://www.skiingthebackcountry.com/">http://www.skiingthebackcountry.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Beauty.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then if you work your way around to the north side there are two more Teton classics--the Hourglass Couloirs:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-nkCIb01GREeXfCjslw0f_FUopQ_r8kJLLuLwFL-HhRNJqSLuKPkJNhBUMUHjzehK7M-LBAs8xfYRlkAqkBmbR_13VzS76U8x-Llo6osWA29HsG5YIjSLzI9aIfp95lIHBu2HYBPVrMX/s1600/Hourglass.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-nkCIb01GREeXfCjslw0f_FUopQ_r8kJLLuLwFL-HhRNJqSLuKPkJNhBUMUHjzehK7M-LBAs8xfYRlkAqkBmbR_13VzS76U8x-Llo6osWA29HsG5YIjSLzI9aIfp95lIHBu2HYBPVrMX/s1600/Hourglass.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Hourglass Couloirs form an "x" on the north side of Nez Perce.</span><br />
Photo: Jared Inouye, via <a href="http://slc-samurai.blogspot.com/">http://slc-samurai.blogspot.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Between my work schedule, getting the flu, and any number of other excuses of dubious validity, it's been a damn long time since I've had a chance to get up into the alpine, so when it turned out that Scotty:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0OcwDE5oAu29IlnjIdd-_dZpdjVipNyBTpWgLYBR6QpkM7k_IKnSvgUlyIS2GQ_9dB1y36Kb68xqy3XUq4xlnOZ2uyDEhryoqhxrkG57MbJe3berXWthQ38EsnzADR6kONVCdn0pWicGa/s1600/IMG_9056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0OcwDE5oAu29IlnjIdd-_dZpdjVipNyBTpWgLYBR6QpkM7k_IKnSvgUlyIS2GQ_9dB1y36Kb68xqy3XUq4xlnOZ2uyDEhryoqhxrkG57MbJe3berXWthQ38EsnzADR6kONVCdn0pWicGa/s1600/IMG_9056.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">With the Sliver conveniently rising above the trees in the background.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> and Van:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5obfK6OVG2LhzzM7xCV5joSY3yOJBYE4E1b__p8ogOM-8IDVCYUfwDQDXFVPP_j0v8DoyPTtVsErTR-X0DFjjdOM3yOZVBSeDdzTbeoBPPmZgiBpFfM5yDlyipIsEWt2ZA1oi_eSZ2Ne/s1600/IMG_9313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5obfK6OVG2LhzzM7xCV5joSY3yOJBYE4E1b__p8ogOM-8IDVCYUfwDQDXFVPP_j0v8DoyPTtVsErTR-X0DFjjdOM3yOZVBSeDdzTbeoBPPmZgiBpFfM5yDlyipIsEWt2ZA1oi_eSZ2Ne/s1600/IMG_9313.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Angle of repose?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">had last Sunday free, ambition kicked in and it was on. Why not see if we could ski The Sliver, the East Hourglass, and the West Hourglass in the course of a day?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Granted we weren't the first to think of it, but there's a certain aesthetic brilliance to the idea. All three couloirs are great objectives in their own right, lovely rock-walled shafts of snow that all top out a bit over 11,000', each somewhere north of 1000' tall, and each with its own personality. The lynchpin of the whole plan is that the notch at the top of The Sliver happens to be the same notch that is at the top of the East Hourglass, allowing one to avoid a fairly long walk from the bottom of The Sliver around to the north side of Nez Perce.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">How to make it happen? Let's start by skinning to the skier's summit of Shadow Peak under bluebird skies with no wind while Jackson lies below, shrouded in its perpetual inversion fog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIpufgJn3S8IvBKVqX6k0LMxW4aUxuwD-Uwae2UuE4ZOgHQxyAQPiw2fpyKsRT3I85d7HoaaTZWa28xPPHx0aCgkFq4GwqG4gJPdEZJDLku45eDlahReURdcB7xShFd2dr3QuvuPWWUr0/s1600/IMG_9053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIpufgJn3S8IvBKVqX6k0LMxW4aUxuwD-Uwae2UuE4ZOgHQxyAQPiw2fpyKsRT3I85d7HoaaTZWa28xPPHx0aCgkFq4GwqG4gJPdEZJDLku45eDlahReURdcB7xShFd2dr3QuvuPWWUr0/s1600/IMG_9053.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then make our way across the Shadow Peak Cirque to The Sliver and climb to the top,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46eipCjhQ-99CjTMsw_pUoCgVeaaJwAkqcfV_IVU1g6d8CwAICCWU2sE4r2TL-Ow8XE_8Q008ISEAqkMkobVuA3j7cjC_IDF6igjP7AiQ1K8o5Q2o17il1kwbfPvtB2mzJE0J4Kq94K9j/s1600/IMG_9064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46eipCjhQ-99CjTMsw_pUoCgVeaaJwAkqcfV_IVU1g6d8CwAICCWU2sE4r2TL-Ow8XE_8Q008ISEAqkMkobVuA3j7cjC_IDF6igjP7AiQ1K8o5Q2o17il1kwbfPvtB2mzJE0J4Kq94K9j/s1600/IMG_9064.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Where we get wind-blasted in the notch before skiing lovely sun-warmed powder back to the Cirque.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5gKW1tk-gbHQpTvpFOEsyzqqVWTILYAFjl2JyN9-tERshbRMHTupIAyzkHqC9xhyphenhyphen5GVNDfqOwJaOJQwg_E1hEhEZdUnjT1s7-aiPmvhp7IdCO9pdNZ-HEeD7hvsEBvUbp_2aQp9rWu1C/s1600/IMG_9066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5gKW1tk-gbHQpTvpFOEsyzqqVWTILYAFjl2JyN9-tERshbRMHTupIAyzkHqC9xhyphenhyphen5GVNDfqOwJaOJQwg_E1hEhEZdUnjT1s7-aiPmvhp7IdCO9pdNZ-HEeD7hvsEBvUbp_2aQp9rWu1C/s1600/IMG_9066.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Van.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmiKIp40h_Qh522vfAXYdEKnsq3P4Mvq6ss0Z6mSjzj9ABg1OVf6yw15ZNYyxCnOuRgE0iBBL8XZPyLI7AIPnXAVm79_xS87_GH32L7bIX2tCLqhGa0BcZqDatfnQTJLIOgJhjKrMf77Ve/s1600/IMG_9091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmiKIp40h_Qh522vfAXYdEKnsq3P4Mvq6ss0Z6mSjzj9ABg1OVf6yw15ZNYyxCnOuRgE0iBBL8XZPyLI7AIPnXAVm79_xS87_GH32L7bIX2tCLqhGa0BcZqDatfnQTJLIOgJhjKrMf77Ve/s1600/IMG_9091.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scotty.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_lO_MRsdHhDaNNDQBjkyJGNEOcMpoB2jkAeCjHZnyReSvmlMjHJ-SAyQdTU28Vg2AoPu1-8jeiffae3eRK1iW_kXM2i89axhr1n4FZVA3ojWNBQ3TyjoBzczyXrV7wAZSnU6gJusohIK6/s1600/IMG_9099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_lO_MRsdHhDaNNDQBjkyJGNEOcMpoB2jkAeCjHZnyReSvmlMjHJ-SAyQdTU28Vg2AoPu1-8jeiffae3eRK1iW_kXM2i89axhr1n4FZVA3ojWNBQ3TyjoBzczyXrV7wAZSnU6gJusohIK6/s1600/IMG_9099.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, good.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDJ3k5867AMOqqLp286x6KQpH5_Ho1JrNm7hqSGIt4S_67CXjdCTkCSEzGiYB5gu6yiwKMPg7csbQCbb01fxHFdJLB2XgBWxfeE0GpwTXcHbKGNWeX9zHZ-pRw8AsCDmhQe37NkUujslu/s1600/IMG_9141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDJ3k5867AMOqqLp286x6KQpH5_Ho1JrNm7hqSGIt4S_67CXjdCTkCSEzGiYB5gu6yiwKMPg7csbQCbb01fxHFdJLB2XgBWxfeE0GpwTXcHbKGNWeX9zHZ-pRw8AsCDmhQe37NkUujslu/s1600/IMG_9141.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yours truly.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ro6utCep2nnKa6KqgDrsQsZVRJlOakqP-eRwbewMCebC-nzXlcF0J9ioHDVwV1S4EeXqFjZQXTs48lvpSQ3VgNnOONsqqV5HxuA__shgCUJocBnng_ZY99EskS2jlvdMNTpCAT6WJdf2/s1600/IMG_9234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ro6utCep2nnKa6KqgDrsQsZVRJlOakqP-eRwbewMCebC-nzXlcF0J9ioHDVwV1S4EeXqFjZQXTs48lvpSQ3VgNnOONsqqV5HxuA__shgCUJocBnng_ZY99EskS2jlvdMNTpCAT6WJdf2/s1600/IMG_9234.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Damn, that was fun.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then get ourselves back into the climbing game and head back up the remains of the bootpack that we put in on our first trip up The Sliver,</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qAY0oi-FwpT866cmNc4wUmjGsTVGUPygqXizNSi9oiNSl-n50bNwOe76BqmHzQE-iC1jDCBUO3RnpNqf2h3oYm3ZqfIr0htFokgkXhlZried-O4XniX7QhTNRgRbYXGSoePU8NXtWq6Z/s1600/IMG_9269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qAY0oi-FwpT866cmNc4wUmjGsTVGUPygqXizNSi9oiNSl-n50bNwOe76BqmHzQE-iC1jDCBUO3RnpNqf2h3oYm3ZqfIr0htFokgkXhlZried-O4XniX7QhTNRgRbYXGSoePU8NXtWq6Z/s1600/IMG_9269.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Toss ropes down into the East Hourglass,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZz2PRYw8A5mOdPwbq-BCSdfn047loMpoVpMxl5FM-erfkNDil-_pBVTEctTgRkctpIoOVTsq0HU_0vQTzaHlvl5gUKlStmn9FhK_KQc4S6csxnCvZ1yg-Pj-EPlrieboWwWxA-06zXkz/s1600/IMG_9280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZz2PRYw8A5mOdPwbq-BCSdfn047loMpoVpMxl5FM-erfkNDil-_pBVTEctTgRkctpIoOVTsq0HU_0vQTzaHlvl5gUKlStmn9FhK_KQc4S6csxnCvZ1yg-Pj-EPlrieboWwWxA-06zXkz/s1600/IMG_9280.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And see how many pitches of rappelling it takes us to get down to continuous snow.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwz9PaE8oOr7m_OQZigpfKM0nJPCLKYeWTUczBTFCHq6nkSH1e3H1vUVa_vH0plXuDIe7ueupSzz9bOgfuSrxonpSWlttj6R-f2mU0agfDGtC8b68o_Je_gBr6UhLR8FbxD1N6o51Ix_Y/s1600/IMG_9308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwz9PaE8oOr7m_OQZigpfKM0nJPCLKYeWTUczBTFCHq6nkSH1e3H1vUVa_vH0plXuDIe7ueupSzz9bOgfuSrxonpSWlttj6R-f2mU0agfDGtC8b68o_Je_gBr6UhLR8FbxD1N6o51Ix_Y/s1600/IMG_9308.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">(It turns out to be three, with my twin skinny 35m ropes.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Having stowed away the ropes, we then make turns in unbreakable windboard conditions down to the point where the East and West Hourglass Couloirs converge,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOlRikclkBArZ2HA5R8OgvdNOTHb9oPz71TdZbojRPgP2ZOoCyFdr5QrWSwZHcgILYj5_ElXGRhJMzqT5sWuls-am_MYeMQLhDPswJ9A8sfd2s1M95JN8HGd-n_T9eoSmbPTnXokxBW452/s1600/IMG_9370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOlRikclkBArZ2HA5R8OgvdNOTHb9oPz71TdZbojRPgP2ZOoCyFdr5QrWSwZHcgILYj5_ElXGRhJMzqT5sWuls-am_MYeMQLhDPswJ9A8sfd2s1M95JN8HGd-n_T9eoSmbPTnXokxBW452/s1600/IMG_9370.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, scratchy.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Which at the time feels a little rough on tired legs, but will feel pretty good in retrospect once we see the conditions in the West Hourglass:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83b3fMxlj6bQNqnOPeia9AGuMeDl5N54NIBDZq_1_74HWaQlDlvXh74jAacynY-3jL23CjjliXFCR3s9ONgm3DeZuUqU-m0oULiaxPGuhYsLZbsBVMW90Rglyj3M3nws5Ea0DxjEIHjHC/s1600/IMG_9397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83b3fMxlj6bQNqnOPeia9AGuMeDl5N54NIBDZq_1_74HWaQlDlvXh74jAacynY-3jL23CjjliXFCR3s9ONgm3DeZuUqU-m0oULiaxPGuhYsLZbsBVMW90Rglyj3M3nws5Ea0DxjEIHjHC/s1600/IMG_9397.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ouch. Where did all of the snow blow away to?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Now we climb ankle- to boottop-deep sastrugi up what feels like an awfully long way to the top of the day's final couloir, and given our new knowledge of the character-building conditions we are about to descend a few pulls of High West Whisky and some Ritter Sport chocolate seem appropriate while looking out at the wonders of Garnet Canyon.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaRXrET-LjK59SHVAp9RWg0aOx5qSVdarEGJA05f6njHcJ9RCB214c0BvNFlhY5mihqpgqvX-8orpwKJ3nUu3v0mV3ZkItNAF5mhf-HTHi7y_enjARh43Z-2nYRVD0zCylqbK4DepcuxCu/s1600/IMG_9402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaRXrET-LjK59SHVAp9RWg0aOx5qSVdarEGJA05f6njHcJ9RCB214c0BvNFlhY5mihqpgqvX-8orpwKJ3nUu3v0mV3ZkItNAF5mhf-HTHi7y_enjARh43Z-2nYRVD0zCylqbK4DepcuxCu/s1600/IMG_9402.jpg" height="288" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Up here, it's all about the company you keep.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then it's back down we go; the turns don't disappoint, but they don't impress either.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnk75nTs5zDpZTDj17gCvSy4Im1F6177_aLnwJl2Ixe5hUVLGEvhZ23szSwtJj4dQwaiM3Z7VOWMwo-dCQvAMEFZBIGLndBvXJMTp7Do4Mn6FeWD8Ozah9hVQ8wueOkRoFhOImvklbfBCo/s1600/IMG_9412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnk75nTs5zDpZTDj17gCvSy4Im1F6177_aLnwJl2Ixe5hUVLGEvhZ23szSwtJj4dQwaiM3Z7VOWMwo-dCQvAMEFZBIGLndBvXJMTp7Do4Mn6FeWD8Ozah9hVQ8wueOkRoFhOImvklbfBCo/s1600/IMG_9412.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKiXRIQW4iZQ-8mO3pxlyNZRNCft1yj3pI2Cf5btSDg5rNw0ZAzNXmEeFL0ttztgwuvSxBeUFw4eeg4sPMjGi-FiDQKgvR1C51aDe4VlVFc-5CStM0B0okS7BgSQBgYxjqbKbo9UgFHvYH/s1600/IMG_9486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKiXRIQW4iZQ-8mO3pxlyNZRNCft1yj3pI2Cf5btSDg5rNw0ZAzNXmEeFL0ttztgwuvSxBeUFw4eeg4sPMjGi-FiDQKgvR1C51aDe4VlVFc-5CStM0B0okS7BgSQBgYxjqbKbo9UgFHvYH/s1600/IMG_9486.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Windboard in the East retrospectively feels pretty decent in comparison to boot-top sastrugi in the West, and with our cups newly overflowing with character we reach the Meadows in Garnet Canyon and our exit from this day's adventure in the Tetons.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0Owg13zpsENA12vRpFK-paxnWKzm9JgAgd3rjFswfXIIUMfLzacDLsMixrCnPXgdKYMOlayXXaR6VvIsvu3jxCo-wZYRK-0C_xX9qW-MkXlexsUXHJKxJb2UFlzq24X-U_kAreTJZJgR/s1600/IMG_9489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0Owg13zpsENA12vRpFK-paxnWKzm9JgAgd3rjFswfXIIUMfLzacDLsMixrCnPXgdKYMOlayXXaR6VvIsvu3jxCo-wZYRK-0C_xX9qW-MkXlexsUXHJKxJb2UFlzq24X-U_kAreTJZJgR/s1600/IMG_9489.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One might ask, why go to all of that trouble for such marginal (horrible?) skiing? One might answer that you don't know if you don't go, and the turns in The Sliver were actually quite good, and even if the rest of the turns were less than desirable the adventure is really </span><span style="font-size: large;">what it's</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">all about. Sort of like starting a meal with a lovely fresh, crisp salad only to discover that it's actually tofu in the lasagna and the chef inexplicably used carob instead of chocolate in the dessert; not necessarily what you were looking for, but not a showstopper either, and probably good for you in the long run.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVCR5VtEZ4FY3wcA8CypIn-e4DUQH7ZI86hyphenhyphenT5Z3nNu5_eSb1bsRs1aHDLqos-7YQCV4xup_natGOnj_Xl1udSq4rjdFyI3JYJmWGL_j-ZDJnzoWnzNnAiTRDSxJls-dMp7CBGyEg3G9K/s1600/IMG_9510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVCR5VtEZ4FY3wcA8CypIn-e4DUQH7ZI86hyphenhyphenT5Z3nNu5_eSb1bsRs1aHDLqos-7YQCV4xup_natGOnj_Xl1udSq4rjdFyI3JYJmWGL_j-ZDJnzoWnzNnAiTRDSxJls-dMp7CBGyEg3G9K/s1600/IMG_9510.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wait, does that splitboard have <i>fishscales</i>? Hell, yes. It's <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-splitboards/voile-revelator-bc-splitboard-2014-2015.html" target="_blank">Voilé's Revelator BC</a>, and it freaking rips.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">At least that's what we told ourselves on the trip across the lake, over the moraines, and back to where the day began.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">(And in reality we did get 2500' of legitimate powder turns from the Meadows down to Bradley Lake, after all.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then </span><span style="font-size: large;">a couple of days later, I was </span><span style="font-size: large;">gazing out across Avalanche Canyon and this beauty of a ski line jumped out at me:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIale5VQBMxewTDeMxLanUwhTc3xLkmL7hWCPxwDmF07Pf7S8x5kXYtXzb_YmRNIWawN4Mw0YttE3HTvPiTqmd0HMAFynmnfc5YZ3i594ueLz0-EmNyrN6zihkcixTqqDH9E2OkNGq36KQ/s1600/Nugget.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIale5VQBMxewTDeMxLanUwhTc3xLkmL7hWCPxwDmF07Pf7S8x5kXYtXzb_YmRNIWawN4Mw0YttE3HTvPiTqmd0HMAFynmnfc5YZ3i594ueLz0-EmNyrN6zihkcixTqqDH9E2OkNGq36KQ/s1600/Nugget.jpg" height="640" width="248" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But that's a story for another time...</span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-27397974862429377782014-11-17T06:18:00.000-08:002015-08-31T22:20:38.925-07:00Ripping One More Fast One<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://25hoursinfroghollow.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/Final-Standings-2014.pdf" target="_blank">28 laps, 360 total miles ridden by Team Fitzgerald's Bicycles</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://25hoursinfroghollow.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/Final-Standings-2014.pdf" target="_blank">30,000' of elevation gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://25hoursinfroghollow.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/Final-Standings-2014.pdf" target="_blank">25:16:46 on-course</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://25hoursinfroghollow.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/Final-Standings-2014.pdf" target="_blank">1st-Place 4-Man Team</a></i></span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It goes without saying that I was disappointed by <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2014/09/where-fk-is-gordon-wadsworth.html" target="_blank">the outcome of my 2014 NUE season</a>--I wanted that championship, and was really hoping for the opportunity to join the other NUE division champs at <a href="http://adventurerace.com/la-ruta-mtb/index.php/en/" target="_blank">La Ruta De Los Conquistadores</a>. (That being said, Gordon's overwhelming success down there makes me feel a little better--at least I was bested by a true competitor.) So when I was asked to join the Twins and Berningman on a 4-Man Fitzy team for the <a href="http://25hoursinfroghollow.com/" target="_blank">25 Hours In Frog Hollow</a> ("The Longest 1-Day Race"), I said Hell Yes! I mean, it may not be Costa Rica, but flowing down gorgeous desert singletrack at 2am with a crew of buddies? Who would say no to that?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not me.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79zS1LEjW9SIOj8l0USLcAgMiGPGVzrNQsoqqGJf3iUI0l6QYqQXlT51jhDYsA2uyft_34ZM-zJAe3z2r8NcCOcrO3YA9s-KlGVHjDrFFqPM86FoXbh5ksjDkRyLoZt6zbkJqjWNBboBo/s1600/FH2514-4P-248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79zS1LEjW9SIOj8l0USLcAgMiGPGVzrNQsoqqGJf3iUI0l6QYqQXlT51jhDYsA2uyft_34ZM-zJAe3z2r8NcCOcrO3YA9s-KlGVHjDrFFqPM86FoXbh5ksjDkRyLoZt6zbkJqjWNBboBo/s1600/FH2514-4P-248.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Damn, this course is fast.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: <a href="http://crawlingspider.com/" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some background: t</span><span style="font-size: large;">he 25 Hours In Frog Hollow takes place on the first weekend in November every year outside of Hurricane, Utah on the legendary Jem Trail. That weekend happens to be the fall time change, hence the extra hour of racing between 10am on Saturday and 10am on Sunday. And the Frog Hollow course is the fastest mountain bike race course I've ever ridden. (15mph is a reasonably fast average on a singlespeed, right?)</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkloz5fDvBEYopZVv7WJGqHF7tYdStR3KXhHaW0vgQ0T7VgpKNh6RB_yzR3CF2g5rPv7G0mF4jkBuJGhCFhAUEokYHwDkmXNxXs-AwmEeSutPuPnacLKX33Jq-uMoJRemx5_PvFhZhlOq/s1600/IMG_0119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkloz5fDvBEYopZVv7WJGqHF7tYdStR3KXhHaW0vgQ0T7VgpKNh6RB_yzR3CF2g5rPv7G0mF4jkBuJGhCFhAUEokYHwDkmXNxXs-AwmEeSutPuPnacLKX33Jq-uMoJRemx5_PvFhZhlOq/s1600/IMG_0119.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Sunset from camp, the night before.</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So that's how we ended up in southern Utah on Halloween night, surrounded by hundreds of other cycling enthusiasts and their families, doing our best to "fuel up" (stuff ourselves) before putting out a 25-hour effort. The scene around camp was super fun--costumes, laughter, kids squealing all over on those Strider bikes. Burn barrels and fire pans began to glow as night fell and the temps settled, with rock n' roll playing in the distance in The Pit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Morning came overcast and "breezy", but at least it was dry. Nervously eating while making final adjustments to bicycles and clothing organization, we got kitted up in a pretty stiff wind and headed over to the start line to cheer George through the obligatory LeMans start. (As ever, why make everybody run from the start line to get on their bikes?) And we were off...</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbitnCgA-VyTT1STf7h-c7vmefYov_GZy-_Owfs49q5A9hyphenhyphenr5ocmunXvMWkEw1rDBgX44AOeRRikiuZEyegjp1NHkriz1vfj8_J5pGRLTHDAEKgvg4i9qRHSqkiCBDj2Uv5ND9iq60-2y/s1600/FH2514-4P-143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbitnCgA-VyTT1STf7h-c7vmefYov_GZy-_Owfs49q5A9hyphenhyphenr5ocmunXvMWkEw1rDBgX44AOeRRikiuZEyegjp1NHkriz1vfj8_J5pGRLTHDAEKgvg4i9qRHSqkiCBDj2Uv5ND9iq60-2y/s1600/FH2514-4P-143.JPG" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bart adds some flair to the Jem Trail.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Lap 1:</u> Damn, this hurts. </span><span style="font-size: large;">George scorched the opening lap, so there are really only a couple of guys ahead of us. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe I didn't warm up enough. How do people do this short-duration max-effort stuff? I end up chasing Chris Holley until I pass him halfway through the climb to the top of the Jem Trail and then I'm cranking away by myself into the descent. Briefly. It seems like I've only been pointed downhill for 30 seconds before I hear Chris behind me and watch him rocket by in his big gear. How did he get so fast? I think I've seen 5 other people riding the <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bike/les/" target="_blank">Pivot LES</a>--stoked to see it becoming the hot ride. Such sweetness.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDCzWjcUNQRcUrfFi21g5QSR_HlUyXrRE8qC9oBup36BOpT19YQlBlTcitXvunYEYohkdSwLJS_APC0HPpaAeocYigkkpxFVFx2EAixP8dBAB1QIt2EkkRlmsUlB2zb04g03Adps-_bgu/s1600/FH2514-4P-166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDCzWjcUNQRcUrfFi21g5QSR_HlUyXrRE8qC9oBup36BOpT19YQlBlTcitXvunYEYohkdSwLJS_APC0HPpaAeocYigkkpxFVFx2EAixP8dBAB1QIt2EkkRlmsUlB2zb04g03Adps-_bgu/s1600/FH2514-4P-166.JPG" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">George, too.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Lap 2:</u> Damn, this still hurts. At least it's not hot out here. Stiff headwind on the climb, but it's a tailwind on the down! Chasing Brent from the Roosters team, pass him just before the top of the Jem, and then watch him rocket past in his big gear on the downhill just like Chris did. Crap. Maybe my superior stubbornness will outweigh my lack of gears and I can pull ahead in the middle of the night. This lap turns out to be my fastest of the day at 48:46.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yesssss.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Lap 3:</u> Now this is just plain fun. It doesn't seem to matter whether or not I bother to warm up--the opening road sprint and climb are painful either way, and before it really takes a toll I'm onto the romping downhill. This time Bart has landed me ahead of Brent, so I'm hauling ass to maintain our lead. Damn, this is fun. If you've never ripped a 36x16 on a singlespeed on desert singletrack, get out there and do it--freaking amazing. Tall enough to keep cranking away on the Jem downhills, but still just barely rideable on the short-lived steeps of the main climb. The <a href="http://www.laufforks.com/lauf-trail-racer/" target="_blank">Lauf fork</a> is perfect for this course--light, fast, responsive. This lap goes 4 seconds slower than my last one. Held the lead. Having a blast!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jason, racing to stay ahead of the impending rain.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Lap 4:</u> It's dark. And raining. Not hard, just enough be chilly and add some grease to the sandstone plates on the Rim Trail at the low end of the loop. At least the wind has stopped. Much slower pace with this grease on the course, more tentative riding to stay upright. Let it fly on the straightaways to clear the mud off my tires, pick my way through the corners to stay on-course. Especially on those damn plates.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Lap 5:</u> Still dark. And awesome. I love riding by headlights, especially in the desert where the views are long and I can see other riders on the course miles away as their headlights become pinpricks on the horizon. The rain has stopped and a light breeze is drying out the dirt--course conditions are unbelievable. Tacky, tacky, tacky and FAST!!! Even in the dark we're still burning well under 1-hour laps, and 36x16 couldn't be more perfect. This racing thing is dreamy. Somebody just handed me a slice of pie as I came through The Pit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Lap 6:</u> Still dark. Still awesome. Maybe even awesomer. No more pie, but damn if the course isn't getting even better. I didn't know that was even possible. Team Rooster lost their mojo in the rainy dark, so we're a fair bit into the lead at this point. George and I have been alternating laps to give Jason and Bart a longer rest--we're about to swap that program, so this is probably my last night lap. I could do this forever. Probably my intake of caffeine and sugar talking, but I'm totally awake, and totally stoked. Not sure how that's possible at 2am, but it's real. I'm so glad that I'm not doing this one solo--this team thing is way more fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>4:00am:</u> In the tent, warm under my sleeping bag. Just got woken up by rainfall. I think Bart must have beat the rain--he got back pretty quick--but Jason is getting hammered. This isn't light rain. No Irish "soft weather". This is biblical. Buckets pouring out of the sky. I'm sure Jason looked at the radar before his lap (the wonder of smartphones...) but I doubt he could have anticipated this. I wonder if Cimarron will call the race before somebody gets hurt, or the course gets destroyed.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bart got brutalized out there.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>6:00am:</u> Nope. She told Bart that if he decided to go out for his lap it would be "at his own risk", and recommended that he wait 15 minutes to see if conditions improved. But this is racing. Who's going to wait? What are we going to do, sit around and watch our lead evaporate? So he charged out into it. Jason came in shivering uncontrollably and covered in mud, had to get George to swap in for him so that he could warm up and clean his bike enough to get the wheels to spin again. Lap times have slowed way down. Definitely embracing the suck.</span><br />
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<u style="font-size: x-large;">Lap 7:</u><span style="font-size: large;"> George hands off to me and grins through mud-caked lips, telling me that the riding is actually super fun out there. He's full of shit. Except that he isn't. The rain stopped an hour ago, and the desert air has done its work on the course. The opening climb flows by with minimal sucking mud and then the Jem downhill is fast enough that I don't even care. There's mud in my teeth, in my hair, packed in my ears and working its way behind my sunglasses into my eyes, but as long as I lay off the brakes and embrace gravity none of it matters. This is mountain biking, and I love it.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">George brings it in for Team Fitzy. What a trip.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>10:16:46am:</u> George crosses the finish line after our 28th lap, inexplicably working to retrieve the clothespin "baton" from his jersey pocket. Who is he planning to hand it to? We're done. We took the win for the 4-Man division with a comfortable margin. 2 laps short of the course record, but with the conditions we were given we're feeling pretty good about what we managed to accomplish in the last 25 hours. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Apparently stubbornness does count for something. </span><span style="font-size: large;">And really, given those conditions, that record might be within reach in 2015...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-31231467595617048482014-09-28T09:25:00.001-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.930-07:00Where The F@*k Is Gordon Wadsworth?!<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
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<li><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/197233247" target="_blank">93 Miles</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/197233247" target="_blank">11,000' of elevation gain</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://mountaingoatadventures.com/forms/FoolsGold100Results2014.pdf" target="_blank">7:27:23 to the finish</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://mountaingoatadventures.com/forms/FoolsGold100Results2014.pdf" target="_blank">2nd-Place Singlespeed, 9th Overall</a></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last Saturday brought a season-finale wondrous thrashing at the <a href="http://mountaingoatadventures.com/foolsgold" target="_blank">Fool's Gold 100</a> in the mountains of Georgia. <i>Fast</i>, swooping singletrack through the forest, roots, creek crossings, threats of aggressive wasps and hornets, and </span><span style="font-size: large;">extended stretches of gravel road riding.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">And though they might not be tall by western standards, they are indeed mountains--there is no flat terrain anywhere; everything is up or down, and often steep.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Damn, put on some clothes, man! It's too early for that.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After racing with Gordon Wadsworth at <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2014/08/redemption.html" target="_blank">Pierre's Hole</a> I was pumped to see him again and see how we would compete closer to his home. It was also a chance to see friends like Dwayne Goscinski and Peat Henry, and Ernesto and Gerry. Kind of like a "family" reunion to put a cap on the <a href="http://nuemtb.com/" target="_blank">NUE</a> season.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo: Tom Linnell</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As happened last year, the race started with a somewhat horrifyingly chaotic knobby peloton on the pavement neutral ride to the big Cooper's Gap climb, where the hammerfest started. Things thinned out pretty quickly, with Gordon pushing a super fast pace at the front and me hanging back with Dwayne and Bob Moss in the pack. This is where I made a tactical decision that would ultimately make all the difference.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've had success this season with tempering my pace in the first half of these extraordinarily long races, saving my matches, and then going hot and hard later on. It works great; on most of these courses, we might be riding together but it's really a test of each rider's individual abilities--the group effort doesn't count for much on singletrack, other than motivation. What I failed to account for is the volume of gravel road riding at Fool's Gold, where riding with a pack makes a HUGE difference.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So Gordon led the charge with what turned out to be the front pack of geared riders and I hung back with the second pack, "tempering". Then when we crested the top of Cooper's Gap the lead group just disappeared. Poof. Our second pack was humming along pretty well, but with 3 of the 5 of us on singlespeeds (not really very helpful for fast road riding) we weren't able to match the pace of a half-dozen guys on gears, and one who was hammering on his single gear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As the terrain rolled along and then dropped steeply down Winding Stair our pack spread out and eventually I was riding with Dwayne and Bob, three one-gear wonders spinning ourselves to oblivion. At the start of Bull Mountain (the day's toughest sustained climb) my Dad fed us the information that Gordon was 2 minutes up--time to shift up and see if he could be caught.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Finishing the descent off of Bull Mountain, all by myself. Good thing I'm my own best company.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nope. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Somewhere on that Bull Mountain climb I got out ahead of Dwayne and Bob, and would spend the remainder of the race in no-man's land. Peat found himself in the same situation, and reminisced afterwards about singing Iron Maiden's </span><i style="font-size: x-large;">Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner</i><span style="font-size: large;"> to himself for hours.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/-tzDQpdG7AA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Coming out of Bull Mountain, Dad gave the word that Gordon had expanded the gap to 5 minutes(?!)--that set the tone for the day. It didn't matter how hard I hammered myself; Gordon just kept expanding his lead as he put himself in a world of hurt hanging on with the geared frontrunners. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of putting myself through the ringer trying to reel him back in, but it didn't matter how hard I went. Without a pack to work with there was no chance.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I got to the midway point at Camp Merrill, Gordon's lead was 7 minutes and Dad explained that he was working with Jeremiah Bishop, Tinker Juarez, and the others to hold an absurdly fast pace on the roads. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Hope springs eternal (delusional?), but despite my best stubbornness and refusal to back off the pace I could feel that gap expanding as the roads through Camp Merrill rolled on and on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That stretch was rough--apparently it was a low-humidity day, but I still felt like I was trying to breathe corn syrup, and despite temps in the 70's I was melting. Give me dry air at 8000' any day--this low-elevation coastal stuff is brutal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And the gap was indeed expanding--after the second trip over Bull Mountain, Gordon's lead was up to 17 minutes and it was clear that with 16 miles to go and nobody to share the labor I was going to take 2nd.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, what else to do but see how damn hard I could ride the day's final singletrack, and how much damn fun I could have without wrapping myself around one of Georgia's plentiful hardwoods? As it turned out, a crapload of damn fun. The Jake Mountain and Black Branch singletrack has become 10 miles of my favorite trail anywhere. SO fast, swoopy, winding through dense forest with subtly but wonderfully banked turns and enough roots and tight riding to keep things interesting. Between railing the trail and cheering on the 50-milers I periodically overtook, I had a blast.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I never got a glimpse of Gordon.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWc_hahp41YSgjBfhfw_4n3Iod-7UJBuxPHOM16nUUk1Z1UdH6uRQgvvLolMrFtf9Sh_fuHtlp1amlz_dbAubFzW16u_z2k-XfzM5B83pMMs-t7rVJUu2x_t1D_N9zOwiQLBQwnslUhcLk/s1600/DSCN8949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWc_hahp41YSgjBfhfw_4n3Iod-7UJBuxPHOM16nUUk1Z1UdH6uRQgvvLolMrFtf9Sh_fuHtlp1amlz_dbAubFzW16u_z2k-XfzM5B83pMMs-t7rVJUu2x_t1D_N9zOwiQLBQwnslUhcLk/s1600/DSCN8949.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Over the creek...</span><br />Photo: Tom Linnell</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The course finishes with a few miles of pavement to get back to the winery, and then a quick romp over the creek and through the woods to the final grassy climb and the finish arch.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ4aFcYXOWFLXvrEE9prxEV66ptPbzXGjfvxQKVl8-U3ChlSO2RZFwjJrD51eCyUIfQROUJWh_HhXSGbDNE10UHUViOUGoWXHIbDPceniBDL7eQd90uVGJ3N8udhiE6TsKz8f_qoyQAvSz/s1600/DSCN8954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ4aFcYXOWFLXvrEE9prxEV66ptPbzXGjfvxQKVl8-U3ChlSO2RZFwjJrD51eCyUIfQROUJWh_HhXSGbDNE10UHUViOUGoWXHIbDPceniBDL7eQd90uVGJ3N8udhiE6TsKz8f_qoyQAvSz/s1600/DSCN8954.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...And through the woods. Still smiling! I still can't get over how light the <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bike/les/" target="_blank">Pivot LES</a>/<a href="http://www.laufforks.com/lauf-trail-racer/" target="_blank">Lauf Fork</a> combo is. Sick.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And just like that the racing was over, and the NUE season with it. Blamo!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifrmUM_eiQahE21oz9pHJj-U2OY8EDZMsC4NNrmaBGrb5bwZ5HybHECAfwwLfmLmXD_nqMgjWUg2eDXkJIvmtCUp8q_uoVwOCKJRmVXfm_5PyRFIkUneSuQSEtGO9J-3yAnzc2oAdLFtE/s1600/DSCN8970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifrmUM_eiQahE21oz9pHJj-U2OY8EDZMsC4NNrmaBGrb5bwZ5HybHECAfwwLfmLmXD_nqMgjWUg2eDXkJIvmtCUp8q_uoVwOCKJRmVXfm_5PyRFIkUneSuQSEtGO9J-3yAnzc2oAdLFtE/s1600/DSCN8970.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oof, that hurt. For both of us.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It stung to come so close to the championship once again, alleviated only slightly by the knowledge that the win went to Gordon's truly stronger performance at Fool's Gold, tactically and physically. Where I failed to anticipate the volume of road riding and the tactics that would go with it, he made the right choice and then made himself hurt to carry it out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But to have it all come down to one race. Damn</span><span style="font-size: large;">.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLu4EbeC1BHBM6nEv2mUdw1cemtzfpfj3wmKh8_sxJAdh_lawYJp9km4PaLo1wFf7MBHSGCH51wY4e_SBqfkTDSmH0j6Z-7yJdWrCtB4SO-WNTaFRbmUeOUE7VSpR75LCcu1nAWER_bxsu/s1600/DSCN8979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLu4EbeC1BHBM6nEv2mUdw1cemtzfpfj3wmKh8_sxJAdh_lawYJp9km4PaLo1wFf7MBHSGCH51wY4e_SBqfkTDSmH0j6Z-7yJdWrCtB4SO-WNTaFRbmUeOUE7VSpR75LCcu1nAWER_bxsu/s1600/DSCN8979.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A bittersweet podium. Pretty cool that 3 of us were riding the <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bike/les/" target="_blank">LES</a>, though! That bike is freaking amazing.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABYrlH5Bzrg_nXZBhfHSjRRUEEZYKPmNNB1QH3NGlkRQ6EF8SHLJIeY_viAQd6q5v3GtrihdlDpO9U1j6Gp1Ba9jJ8CnqAIwppIzJirG8q7qdETLO1ulnrosniODyQ-ZcyuBaZ0IC60Ly/s1600/DSCN8989.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABYrlH5Bzrg_nXZBhfHSjRRUEEZYKPmNNB1QH3NGlkRQ6EF8SHLJIeY_viAQd6q5v3GtrihdlDpO9U1j6Gp1Ba9jJ8CnqAIwppIzJirG8q7qdETLO1ulnrosniODyQ-ZcyuBaZ0IC60Ly/s1600/DSCN8989.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bike/les/" target="_blank">Pivot LES</a> was ridden to 3 spots on the NUE Series Singlespeed podium as well.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So the NUE season ends. Looking back, honestly I had a great year--a handful of 1st-Place finishes, a handful of 2nd's, some amazing riding, some incredibly hard riding, an exceptional community full of new and old friends. I was fortunate to get to ride my bike in some pretty cool races in amazing places, and I am eternally grateful for the support from Erica and my family and friends.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Watching the seasons change here in the Tetons, with rain coming down outside, I can feel a powder-ful winter approaching--skintracks and the silence of backcountry snowfall. And I've already started dreaming about next year--how will I tweak my training, what races to focus on...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">What to do until the snow flies? The Flynn twins convinced me to join their 4-man team for the <a href="http://25hoursinfroghollow.com/" target="_blank">25 Hours in Frog Hollow ("the longest 1-day race")</a> with Jason Berning. Maybe I'll even toe the line for a bit of autumn cyclocross; I still don't get the need to dismount my bike for these ridiculous obstacles, (if I wanted to go for a run, why would I bring my bike?) but when the forest is a muddy mess...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/aj-linnell/gearlist/fool-s-gold-100.html?_tk=33bf9e19a4" target="_blank">Fool's Gold 100 Gearlist on AXLPATH</a></i></span></div>
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-77898698223704040622014-09-03T19:33:00.000-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.991-07:00Damn, These Utah Boys Are (Still) Fast!<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187996912" target="_blank">~75 Miles</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187996912" target="_blank">~12,500' of Elevation Gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://thepcpp.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/PCP2P-Results.pdf" target="_blank">7:07:06 to the finish.</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://thepcpp.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/PCP2P-Results.pdf" target="_blank">2nd-Place Singlespeed, 14th Overall</a></i></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just when I'm feeling good and getting confident, Corey reels me in and dusts me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I'm getting ahead of myself...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have a somewhat interesting and sordid history with the <a href="http://thepcpp.com/" target="_blank">Park City Point2Point</a>. For the last 3 years I've come out to give this event my all and been plagued by flat tires, course errors, and <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2013/09/curse-of-park-city-point-2-point.html" target="_blank">an unexpected chip-timing bite-in-the-ass</a> (that was my own fault, in the end.) Every year Corey Larrabee has ridden strong, avoided my blunders, and stood higher on the podium. This year I was determined to have a clean race and give Corey some legitimate competition for the singlespeed win.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">To add to the fun, the entire Larrabee family picked me up in the Salt Lake City pre-dawn and gave me a ride up to the start! Corey had warned me that I might have to ride in one of the child-seats, but every one of those was full of a sleepy child and with Amber squeezed in amongst them I was unexpectedly granted the front passenger's chair. These Larrabee's are amazing. (And adorable.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I managed to start in the correct wave this year, a few minutes behind the Open/Pro Men and Women, which had a significant effect on how the first 25 miles of the race played-out. The opening couple of miles roll on a paved bike path, so by the time we turned onto singletrack most of our wave had shifted up (click, click, clank) and passed us by, and was riding in one long, snaking line through the sagebrush of Round Valley.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There were 5 singlespeeders riding together at this point--myself, Corey, Tom Flynn, Quinn Bingham, and Dan Nelson. Stuck in a writhing mass of cycling humanity, we had little choice but to settle in and match the pace, seeking out those few opportunities to make a pass here and there but mostly just chugging along through an exercise in patience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Things got a little worse once we left Round Valley and headed over towards Deer Valley--numerous tight switchbacks resulted in the slinky effect, where geared riders would shift all the way down and virtually cease forward motion while navigating around the corner in granny-gear. </span><span style="font-size: large;">On a singlespeed, we really want to carry momentum into a corner and embrace the G-forces to get sling-shotted out of it. Instead, this was more of a track-stand, crank hard on the pedals to power through the turn and up to the next switchback, track-stand, crank hard...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">With the exception of one particularly impressive switchback where Tom cyclo-crossed off of his bike, ran around the inside of the corner and past a couple of geared riders, and vaulted back into the saddle. Sick.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhd1lZ8lKIrJDmnmXcoezjGnwTzpzZQ0scDLg5dZ2ydNUgYmy6vS_0_AlNCgbyTAjRiP-Ho0acgSeKWyLSZFZVPimHlSizsWilqX8s9x1FN6yFtMRP3crfR5EkwM30K0qYXOjHBhnx_-eE/s1600/IMG_7454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhd1lZ8lKIrJDmnmXcoezjGnwTzpzZQ0scDLg5dZ2ydNUgYmy6vS_0_AlNCgbyTAjRiP-Ho0acgSeKWyLSZFZVPimHlSizsWilqX8s9x1FN6yFtMRP3crfR5EkwM30K0qYXOjHBhnx_-eE/s1600/IMG_7454.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rolling into Aide 1 with Tom. Yes, this is an awfully rocky course for that rigid fork he's riding.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9KiUyjsAwt9A-DtlymMLjgXxgC_-gmbrAehcYxurXE6TPqxUG8EDMRo9ydvppRJyRZeFG6yHOWa7WNKqLJQKkhUv4n8ulJTRs6SCcNuo72DPewPRWskGx_yA7gAwipbt1D-G3MHhijsZO/s1600/IMG_7455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9KiUyjsAwt9A-DtlymMLjgXxgC_-gmbrAehcYxurXE6TPqxUG8EDMRo9ydvppRJyRZeFG6yHOWa7WNKqLJQKkhUv4n8ulJTRs6SCcNuo72DPewPRWskGx_yA7gAwipbt1D-G3MHhijsZO/s1600/IMG_7455.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thanks, baby!</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Things improved the further we worked up Deer Valley, and we rolled out of the first Aide Station with clear trail ahead. Tom blew through the Aide without taking anything and led us up sweet, forested Deer Valley singletrack. Probably my favorite riding of the day was around here, rollicking through the woods with Tom and Corey on lovely dirt. Mmm, good.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggyS3oaHMgOS8LH4uo4Z9kClBCdRAzp6ZTcV84Qqp8fEXC-00-IskCqZ1Ri3Ev0diJpCKF6QNgE0eaoSBpcKnUpKgONzgoJokl_ZXaASnMeEeOtui9msziw39JRN5QrnUJKpRKLHorS_4/s1600/IMG_7461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggyS3oaHMgOS8LH4uo4Z9kClBCdRAzp6ZTcV84Qqp8fEXC-00-IskCqZ1Ri3Ev0diJpCKF6QNgE0eaoSBpcKnUpKgONzgoJokl_ZXaASnMeEeOtui9msziw39JRN5QrnUJKpRKLHorS_4/s1600/IMG_7461.jpg" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wow, this Park City riding is fun!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Somewhere in there I got out front and opened up a little gap, and spent the next couple of hours hoping to expand it. Crank hard on the ups, and let 'er rip on the downs. Eventually I caught up to fellow Fitzy teammates Gabe and the Flynns, who inexplicably had gears on their bikes and were sitting down and spinning up the climbs! That stuff is just slowing you down, fellas!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiV8WHoNUMzSFsODUPMFYD1QzOUGU-Dgg78c4bVB1bvMXgtzqp4pWCjygrHN10n7TKSkBwFwypWt2kL28WEaGqrle47R8OAPab44oZNyBvQEXsCe3Fp5lttZjT2F5bkYy81mH8EvoiIn1d/s1600/IMG_7468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiV8WHoNUMzSFsODUPMFYD1QzOUGU-Dgg78c4bVB1bvMXgtzqp4pWCjygrHN10n7TKSkBwFwypWt2kL28WEaGqrle47R8OAPab44oZNyBvQEXsCe3Fp5lttZjT2F5bkYy81mH8EvoiIn1d/s1600/IMG_7468.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The climb out of Aide 2 to the Armstrong Trail is a real puker.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Erica wasn't able to give me much information about my gap back to Corey and Tom at Aide 2, other than that Corey wasn't far behind, so I cranked hard up the bastard hill to Armstrong, unable to see Corey on the descent into the Aide but not confident that I had much of a lead. The Armstrong climb was great, as usual (I love that stretch of trail,) but Corey has a habit of appearing out of nowhere when I least expect it, so I was pushing hard and cranking, cranking, cranking, and despite the effort all of a sudden there he was <i>again</i>, dammit, sneaking right up on me just when I was gaining some confidence about this race!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Crap!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We rode together for a couple of miles, through the forest across the Mid-Mountain Trail, and then Corey's finishing legs had more juice in them than mine did and he rode away. I tried to really give 'er on the descent towards The Canyons, and cranked the final kick-in-the-nuts climb, but never saw him again. Somehow Corey had it in him to open up 4 minutes in the last 10 miles. Brutal.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBX839kBlyyO95lLsGo9M_ZgGqfisTv2Mbeu8YexhHk3I9wKxTlk3JQMSyMG62cVkM1mhfhyduIL3j8u05hprTWCRHdTf29rkrbIK_DyeZufPC2FgkK61DsLHOsOu_bBwzHswXBW9Sqpd/s1600/IMG_7475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBX839kBlyyO95lLsGo9M_ZgGqfisTv2Mbeu8YexhHk3I9wKxTlk3JQMSyMG62cVkM1mhfhyduIL3j8u05hprTWCRHdTf29rkrbIK_DyeZufPC2FgkK61DsLHOsOu_bBwzHswXBW9Sqpd/s1600/IMG_7475.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And that's that.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">On another day it could have gone another way, but on this day Corey had a little extra fire and uncorked a hell of a finish. Taking 2nd-place definitely isn't my cup o' tea, so I'm trying to focus on the fun I had racing and the fact that I finally had a clean P2P this year--no mechanicals, stayed on-course, started with the right wave.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhceKlPtruQKsnifXGFEpxCPhHwWLFwWgniN7luEVANTlVVsW0lHk9ORvzTmJKH17FSGRsQOHfeN4l53KjKfVk2KkmmMcGL-WPdo9_cs3hQIFJ_HXYdceWhs7DCo94cJpZ7FAumavMOQ6AE/s1600/P2P+Podium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhceKlPtruQKsnifXGFEpxCPhHwWLFwWgniN7luEVANTlVVsW0lHk9ORvzTmJKH17FSGRsQOHfeN4l53KjKfVk2KkmmMcGL-WPdo9_cs3hQIFJ_HXYdceWhs7DCo94cJpZ7FAumavMOQ6AE/s1600/P2P+Podium.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And there's no shame for me in being beat by the Legs of Larrabee; that dude is riding damn fast, and it's always a pleasure racing with him. What can I do but look forward to continuing the battle in another race at another place?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe one of these years I'll get to offer him a ride up to <a href="http://www.grandtarghee.com/the-resort/news-events/1863/PierresHole50100EnduranceMTBRace.php" target="_blank">Pierre's Hole</a>...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/guides/view/gearlist/id/68/" target="_blank">Park City Point2Point Gearlist on AXLPATH</a></i></span></div>
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-56065602299957192182014-08-24T08:55:00.001-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.957-07:00Redemption<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/181393158" target="_blank">84 Miles</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/181393158" target="_blank">12,241' of elevation gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://results.milliseconds.com/races/detail/139239/148608" target="_blank">7:59:48 to the finish (Just squeaked out a sub-8:00!)</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://results.milliseconds.com/races/detail/139239/148608" target="_blank">1st-Place Singlespeed, 3rd Overall</a></i></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Boom! What a f@*ing unbelievable, all-time course! As the man <a href="http://davebyers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Dave Byers</a> put it, "I have decided that the 2014 <a href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/ph100?source=feed_text&story_id=10152627019191602">#PH100</a> course should be named Beauty & The Beast. Gorgeous. Relentless. And I dig that."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">TONS of singletrack, with a long climb winding through alpine wildflowers with endless views, a longer, batshit crazy fast descent down into the forest, and some sweet, rolling trail through aspen glades. Fast, fun, hard, and demanding focus. This was a <i>mountain bike</i> race, and epitomized why the <a href="http://www.grandtarghee.com/the-resort/news-events/1863/PierresHole50100EnduranceMTBRace.php" target="_blank">Pierre's Hole 100</a> is my favorite race on the planet.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIbOZ716wAK_lhA2jWw10n8fLBComFVOoJzgs13xJXhdT_908YeEdvpekkggZndO1TcfW1YR9Pptu7M6f6b3bwqdJKokMBhp3bF8uog3YKLDqTvn812oPK3VvOgsXXaKE17q-X23D8RkkE/s1600/DSCN8763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIbOZ716wAK_lhA2jWw10n8fLBComFVOoJzgs13xJXhdT_908YeEdvpekkggZndO1TcfW1YR9Pptu7M6f6b3bwqdJKokMBhp3bF8uog3YKLDqTvn812oPK3VvOgsXXaKE17q-X23D8RkkE/s1600/DSCN8763.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />We toed the line just after dawn, and I had a few minutes to finally introduce myself to <a href="http://podiumshorts.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mr. Gordon Wadsworth</a>. "Quadsworth" has been tearing up the Eastern US cycling scene, handily winning 100-milers and the X-Country National Championships alike. We've been exchanging Facebook messages here and there and tracking our seasons as we battle back and forth in the <a href="http://nuemtb.com/" target="_blank">NUE</a> standings without ever meeting or racing against eachother. A few days before Pierre's Hole he decided to come West for a post-wedding vacation and see how we would stack up going head-to-head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Exciting? Yes. Nerves? YES.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This dude is fast!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">His quads are indeed enormous, and bely the friendly, talkative character riding atop them. We had a brief chat in the start pack, wished eachother luck, and I had the pleasure of following the Quads up the opening snowcat-track climb. We </span><span style="font-size: large;">took the opening climb to the start of the Peaked singletrack at a moderate pace, with Gordon and me chasing Cary Smith, Josh Tostado, and Sam Sweetser in the morning twilight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the course took a hard left and pinched into singletrack I was ahead of Gordon and feeling relaxed--my plan to moderate the pace during the first half of the race while still trying to stay in the mix seemed to be working. That was nice. A few switchbacks up I took a look back and discovered that a reasonable gap had opened up behind me, and I started to wonder if Gordon's sea-level lungs were struggling to keep up with the thin air up here. Cranking uphill at 9000' is hard! More so if you're not acclimatized to it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had the lead 3 in my sights as we crested the top of the climb, and was able to stay within a hundred yards or so of them into the beginning of the epic long descent down into Mill Creek. It even seemed like I was maintaining that gap through the opening switchbacks (maybe I'm finally learning to downhill?) but then</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff....</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33JfM0ewt8BSbLd_VQeKbdTHUThBa1V-HqV5-jKDwpb2OQrgCCOr86Lq3oKxHFjCJhOoAnDf2rKtAyFbDf6rvtbkQXZd0X65Nj254RnckBwwfH0XhQjUu7KUwchkCxvM473MlINoiY-BI/s1600/Frustrated+Ape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33JfM0ewt8BSbLd_VQeKbdTHUThBa1V-HqV5-jKDwpb2OQrgCCOr86Lq3oKxHFjCJhOoAnDf2rKtAyFbDf6rvtbkQXZd0X65Nj254RnckBwwfH0XhQjUu7KUwchkCxvM473MlINoiY-BI/s1600/Frustrated+Ape.jpg" height="320" width="297" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Who flats in the first 5 miles of a 100-mile race?! Way to dig a hole early-on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, with the sound of freewheels buzzing past as half of the field left me behind, I knelt in the wildflowers and found another damn puncture in my rear tire. Sharp little bastard rocks. Maybe I should consider a beefier tire? At least I had plenty of miles to work my way back up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Having found the hole, I briefly considered letting the sealant take care of it but after having the plug blow out at <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2014/07/uff-da.html" target="_blank">Marathon Nationals</a> I decided to take the extra minute to break out the magic bacon-string hole plugger</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.axlpath.com/innovations-tubeless-tire-repair-kit.html" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKxiN0oFcj-iuoB9FJR0lOV1CNvhHAFJFDhToQjRaflEjPk2IrVm-oA-M9qB4CnvlKS68N3-3UDfQ63S2WDsiRWjcbN8yeWMe43emwOCKzPaaPaPlo7gPQlSsXqydA3iw_WWSwv4Qj5NR/s1600/Innovations-Tubeless-Repair-2.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and do a fix that would be more likely to last the rest of the race. After hitting it with a blast of CO2 I re-mounted my steed and got back to hauling balls down the 47 switchbacks of 38-Special, hoping to at least not lose any more ground on the leaders. Gaining on them would have been great, but let's be realistic here.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />I started reeling guys back in on the climb back up to Targhee from the bottom of Lap 1, knowing that it was early in the race but still feeling pressure to re-connect with Gordon. On the trek out to the north loop of the course I got to romp with </span><span style="font-size: large;">a couple of friends, Gabe "Fiddie Cent" Klamer and Matt Woodruff (who would come in 5th- and 6th-Place in the Open Division) </span><span style="font-size: large;">through a few miles of early-morning greasy singletrack</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">before pushing away from them in pursuit of Gordon.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJp2N1zSfWCQFOPeZQIL_UQAqVSMSKvIfXQZerLA_IKbU_-nZaniVZkUccPe7FfQAgO4nd7h9Eti4fDMzgllb-ulL5ecjCeEAxPdN0o3KrYtIg3EwkknjOQFWlp5iOrKk-BBQijrJX7Qt/s1600/DSCN8783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJp2N1zSfWCQFOPeZQIL_UQAqVSMSKvIfXQZerLA_IKbU_-nZaniVZkUccPe7FfQAgO4nd7h9Eti4fDMzgllb-ulL5ecjCeEAxPdN0o3KrYtIg3EwkknjOQFWlp5iOrKk-BBQijrJX7Qt/s1600/DSCN8783.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Riding with Matt in some lovely morning light.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Who finally came back to me out in the rolling singletrack of Quakie Ridge. He seemed to be enjoying that faster, lower-elevation riding through the aspens way more than the Peaked climb, and we got to spend an hour of riding together before the start of our second trip up Peaked. Being that I spend so much time riding solo, it's rare that I get to enjoy much conversation while on the bike, so it was a rare pleasure to pass that hour chatting it up and getting to know eachother.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Ah5UVctHc7CNs2TSY63vNTt7gMVQ3I2HbvSBkJwP7UM-o9fZz-94HnIL0zvrfd0UR20TYqldEBDFNUlzeCoWcVtoStIC0HzzT6cUX_aH1_tBgcEuR_ChNSVmoIrf24F8d0Gvpr-J5Roo/s1600/IMG_0429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Ah5UVctHc7CNs2TSY63vNTt7gMVQ3I2HbvSBkJwP7UM-o9fZz-94HnIL0zvrfd0UR20TYqldEBDFNUlzeCoWcVtoStIC0HzzT6cUX_aH1_tBgcEuR_ChNSVmoIrf24F8d0Gvpr-J5Roo/s1600/IMG_0429.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Thanks Mom!" Having the Ultimate Support Crew (my parents, Erica, and Rue) back together to hand up fresh Camelbaks and information was awesome.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But then we started up Peaked again, and the altitude started taking its toll on Gordon and I pulled away, switching my focus to chasing Sam's orange helmet up the switchbacks.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuPqcUDbP7gUCk6wBhQYSJ_esLF1_3sHLxz8IUeCutueTgHWXHQvx0mOZXPIdFACu0VUsOaCbsGdpZ3KQA91u7-r7STgRH8rhWACUDGpG2SwIw8S_mKElstSjujauZoXwpr4ewYR3Uijmv/s1600/DSCN8844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuPqcUDbP7gUCk6wBhQYSJ_esLF1_3sHLxz8IUeCutueTgHWXHQvx0mOZXPIdFACu0VUsOaCbsGdpZ3KQA91u7-r7STgRH8rhWACUDGpG2SwIw8S_mKElstSjujauZoXwpr4ewYR3Uijmv/s1600/DSCN8844.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">More cowbell!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That climb and descent flew by, I closed the gap to Sam on the climb back up to Targhee, and spent the second half of Lap 2 having a ball rollicking through the alpine wildflowers on the rolling singletrack in Rick's Basin.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDu8VQWSBCAgoGebTD6CwfqDrJXlZJ7cFH0V0zFdQ9qtewinLX1BHoo0L6nRClwHDa3hQc_v8Ujuw6V2HmLBH4aLT8c6JmxgYxjhbwegTyx-Xa6aQVjk2TnUoj4u8HJCEOXKpymJzXw0ee/s1600/DSCN8832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDu8VQWSBCAgoGebTD6CwfqDrJXlZJ7cFH0V0zFdQ9qtewinLX1BHoo0L6nRClwHDa3hQc_v8Ujuw6V2HmLBH4aLT8c6JmxgYxjhbwegTyx-Xa6aQVjk2TnUoj4u8HJCEOXKpymJzXw0ee/s1600/DSCN8832.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">How's that for romping through the wildflowers?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Coming through the base area Aide for the last time I got word that Jim Meyer in 3rd overall was only a couple of minutes up, so I headed out Andy's Traverse with a new rabbit to chase. I also knew that my focus had to shift to riding smart and holding the lead on the singlespeed division; I needed this win to put me into contention for the <a href="http://nuemtb.com/" target="_blank">NUE Series</a> singlespeed championship, and to take it I needed to stay on top of my bike and just maintain my pace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But there's also that point where competitive urges overwhelm thoughtful logic, so when I started catching glimpses of Jim's white and red kit I couldn't help pushing the pace a little harder. Somehow fighting the urge to chase down that rabbit is awfully hard to resist, and with Jim having beat me at the <a href="http://www.tatanka100.com/" target="_blank">Tatanka 100</a> the last two years...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcxJIwNfdu-1JIOvHuOrjJ0lsS-K7XGs7djJupV4qLHu7mkmG-zsxGBWbczYvtC2AQjgQc3_ljiHf0Gt8xh56V5P01aIusdqlGg6-BYZHzU-botMEbjMzR-fM_PLcehA5v9GslaZhcbLV/s1600/DSCN8849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcxJIwNfdu-1JIOvHuOrjJ0lsS-K7XGs7djJupV4qLHu7mkmG-zsxGBWbczYvtC2AQjgQc3_ljiHf0Gt8xh56V5P01aIusdqlGg6-BYZHzU-botMEbjMzR-fM_PLcehA5v9GslaZhcbLV/s1600/DSCN8849.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Chasing Cary and Josh into the final lap around Rick's Basin.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The gap closed somewhere out on the Lightning Loop, and I started the final Peaked climb alone, hoping to be able to hold Jim off and maybe close in on Josh and Cary? I passed a 100K racer here and there as the rest of the final lap rolled past, but mostly just enjoyed some solo time romping the singletrack out in Rick's Basin. Coming out of the Quakie Ridge descent I took a look at Mr. Garmin and saw that I had 15 minutes to finish if I wanted to go sub-8 hours--not easy, but maybe possible? Possible enough to hit the gas, anyway, and see if I could do it.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUtxr_Z88VHnXJ6XCQUe6bpAOkD1xXDh2mdmU5e3nplV3OGfgOe53WwCTl37EwpFrZFWaVFMdjBBsw8boUDl8qVd2pCajl2pdBryz0O7wZUoWVw3lcEvUGFxnIhyphenhyphenfHQ7JVjb29X4wkasD/s1600/IMG_0465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUtxr_Z88VHnXJ6XCQUe6bpAOkD1xXDh2mdmU5e3nplV3OGfgOe53WwCTl37EwpFrZFWaVFMdjBBsw8boUDl8qVd2pCajl2pdBryz0O7wZUoWVw3lcEvUGFxnIhyphenhyphenfHQ7JVjb29X4wkasD/s1600/IMG_0465.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo: Erica Linnell</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It hurt, and my legs were feeling awfully heavy in those late miles, but I cranked through it and rallied over the fly-over, rolling through the Kenda arch with 12 seconds to spare and stoked as hell. Finishing in under 8 hours was a pretty arbitrary goal coming into the race with all of the course changes, but it felt damn good to make it happen.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pHbgGNyhK1d-ggG-D7VtzocOlhrOiv4CV52fOQp-a07rSonEj3vVtcfb-RIGU-0f2abcFg8U828Ztk9WgmU4r1e8nFLVNNt-twQrGcwLoR0jOAxOruRWjlqW-VGB7qtYMKzTGMpSmgFN/s1600/DSCN8871.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pHbgGNyhK1d-ggG-D7VtzocOlhrOiv4CV52fOQp-a07rSonEj3vVtcfb-RIGU-0f2abcFg8U828Ztk9WgmU4r1e8nFLVNNt-twQrGcwLoR0jOAxOruRWjlqW-VGB7qtYMKzTGMpSmgFN/s1600/DSCN8871.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ahh, that feels good.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Gordon came across the line in a bit later, having battled hard with the altitude challenge up here but ultimately ridden a strong race and maintained the second-place spot. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to join him on more race courses in the future...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOS1y3SmbMAB9oBU_RAsB75voEaNMVmO4BeH2LnsiJz-DeZdfMqLHpMCqxQMWEbxmrhvDsEKvXWkQyfIG9_IXAl2joEj1vLD2UgpUn-EYdZh74GZotKHWmJ04I4xezvUl5ivOOuSXFTLZU/s1600/PH100+Podium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOS1y3SmbMAB9oBU_RAsB75voEaNMVmO4BeH2LnsiJz-DeZdfMqLHpMCqxQMWEbxmrhvDsEKvXWkQyfIG9_IXAl2joEj1vLD2UgpUn-EYdZh74GZotKHWmJ04I4xezvUl5ivOOuSXFTLZU/s1600/PH100+Podium.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The <a href="http://www.fitzgeraldsbicycles.com/" target="_blank">Fitzgerald's Bicycles</a> team had a hell of a showing out there at this year's <a href="http://www.grandtarghee.com/the-resort/news-events/1863/PierresHole50100EnduranceMTBRace.php" target="_blank">Pierre's Hole 50/100</a>, with a pretty good field of green on podiums across the three distances--so sweet to see us represent at our local endurance event!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Damn, it felt good to have a solid race after my last couple of lackluster performances. Despite my early flat tire I was able to stay relaxed and pedal myself back into the competition. It's difficult to express just how much I loved this race--it was hard, beautiful, fun, unrelenting. It demanded focus and tenacity, requiring racers to keep pushing in order to find success. Afterwards, Andy and Jake made reference to continuing with course improvements for next year's event, but I find it difficult to conceive how they could make it any better than it was this year.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFJVzXgB0UC7YTglLfRugPTZZ0snDiSDJ0zq4izzInytSDmcufw6nUGWOgb26EMW3GgFwl29a0SXcMiOb8ZlA25jT8cpdwzvSkfVkyc61yweLSnl12wEwtN1oNA2xZQaZShoTqZdN8EOS/s1600/DSCN8785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFJVzXgB0UC7YTglLfRugPTZZ0snDiSDJ0zq4izzInytSDmcufw6nUGWOgb26EMW3GgFwl29a0SXcMiOb8ZlA25jT8cpdwzvSkfVkyc61yweLSnl12wEwtN1oNA2xZQaZShoTqZdN8EOS/s1600/DSCN8785.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet another awesome feature of this year's course--what better way to manage the cross in a figure-eight course than with a fly-over?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/aj-linnell/gearlist/pierre-s-hole-100.html" target="_blank">Pierre's Hole 100 Gearlist on AXLPATH</a></i></span><br />
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AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-71634984384105978852014-08-03T12:15:00.000-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.973-07:00Coming Up Short<i style="font-size: x-large;">The Stats:<br /><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/168935177">98.6 Miles</a> <br /><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/168935177">10,000' of elevation gain</a> <br /><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/168935177">8:07:17 to the finish</a> <br />2nd-Place Singlespeed, 11th Overall </i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two rides this week on two of my favorite trails in the Tetons, two trips over the handlebars and onto my head. Damn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But that's not what this story is about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This story is about racing the </span><a href="http://highcascades100.com/" style="font-size: x-large;">High Cascades 100</a><span style="font-size: large;"> a couple of weekends ago in Bend, Oregon, famous for micro-brewed beer, the Deschutes River, and miles upon miles of mind-blowing singletrack.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grrr.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThvqi1luxYezVdCIvWWrqW0ddpwt9w2ucFqPPRCRsl71GJnMtrV7nZ2_EoffGfo-9MhnqD-_MV-QJAoEVe0b3zbjiIJXhlanvECPYK9Qk3puxS4lP6wfzov3HIEt5ub361-G6s-cUPyzl/s1600/HC100.Start.jpg" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThvqi1luxYezVdCIvWWrqW0ddpwt9w2ucFqPPRCRsl71GJnMtrV7nZ2_EoffGfo-9MhnqD-_MV-QJAoEVe0b3zbjiIJXhlanvECPYK9Qk3puxS4lP6wfzov3HIEt5ub361-G6s-cUPyzl/s1600/HC100.Start.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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"Does this outfit make my penis look small?" On the line with <a href="http://ernestomarenchin.com/">Ernesto Marenchin</a> and <a href="http://pfunwithpflug.blogspot.com/">Gerry Pflug</a>.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: <a href="http://alanbrandtphoto.com/2014-hc100/" target="_blank">Alan Brandt Photography</a></span></td></tr>
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Fast, fun, and DUSTY--that pretty well sums up this year's race. Race Director Mike changed up the course, adding a longer "neutral spin" to the beginning to route us onto the Duodenum Trail early-on in an attempt to avoid some dust, and cutting out the Mt. Bachelor roundabout to get rid of the hot climb/grunt out of Lava Lake. I was intrigued by the course changes before the race, but the resulting long miles of sandy two-track made me yearn for the lava rock singletrack of years past.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />The longer "neutral" was great for warming up and getting a feel for who was where in the field, but as usual it all went to hell once we hit the dirt and the world was a dust cloud. I had a pretty good idea that Mark Shafer was ahead of me, gunning for the Aide 1 prime, but wasn't sure about anybody else. Ben Shaklee passed me just before the Duodenum switchbacks as well, and I rode much of the first leg with him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My plan for the race was to moderate the pace through Aide 2, when the real climbing started, as well as some super fun singletrack riding. As usual, I got all competitive when Mark and Ben were in the vicinity and ended up riding harder than I had intended. Still very much working on my self-control.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN2ro8bqjw6HeMq1SCEGO6X9XmZOIQ5vZ7X2c22I-oF-rrHB5Wg805G0nKWgfrww07bnkZov9mVXdfWNCsahJGOwC53nQUViPtrFVhK-jvHX24ZCmFo6tDiQ_AGGKKg-poAP8znhHSBCKn/s1600/HC100.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN2ro8bqjw6HeMq1SCEGO6X9XmZOIQ5vZ7X2c22I-oF-rrHB5Wg805G0nKWgfrww07bnkZov9mVXdfWNCsahJGOwC53nQUViPtrFVhK-jvHX24ZCmFo6tDiQ_AGGKKg-poAP8znhHSBCKn/s1600/HC100.1.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ahh, Suede Ridge in the morning light.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: <a href="http://alanbrandtphoto.com/2014-hc100/" target="_blank">Alan Brandt Photography</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I managed to nab the lead in the sandpit hike-a-bike after the highway underpass (it was a hike for me, anyway) and opened a comfortable gap before rolling through Aide 2. Riding Suede Ridge and Upper Whoops with Todd Meyer was the best part of the day for me--everything was flowing, and keeping up with Todd's gears and full-squish bike made for some fun riding, including bouncing myself off of three trees on some of the tighter turns. Apparently I can't turn left.</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/8hJ1HDcMowk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Somewhere around Happy Valley I started feeling optimistic about the day's outcome--I hadn't seen anybody in miles, other than passing a couple of geared riders, and had felt good on the big climb out of Aide 3. I even saw that I was closing a gap forward to Gerry, newly running gears this year. But I knew that my energy was starting to flag and I needed to keep pushing the pace. I also knew that I was due to eat something, even as I was running out of water. The on- and off-the-bike through the snow patches up high was slowing me down a bunch and sapping my reserves, and then unexpectedly Jace Ives was on my tail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hadn't seen Jace since HC100 2012, where I finished a few minutes ahead of him, and didn't even know he was racing this year. Now, just when I was starting to struggle he shows up looking like he's just starting his day. We took a couple of minutes to catch up while we hiked through the day's last few snow patches and then he left me in the dust, with authority.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just gone.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvgWPIaA7SHvTn9aiaAsXGWKnIiFYWC49hinyasJBtfaQ1VwGtmWh4s5Lv4_VWK9q8zJ13c_MtMaHziiyxGnV3JppcjigGNGqjffF9BAzYIRI8ErXnIg8ewjJxh2FT09P7pHNXL_Q7TvX/s1600/HC100.3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvgWPIaA7SHvTn9aiaAsXGWKnIiFYWC49hinyasJBtfaQ1VwGtmWh4s5Lv4_VWK9q8zJ13c_MtMaHziiyxGnV3JppcjigGNGqjffF9BAzYIRI8ErXnIg8ewjJxh2FT09P7pHNXL_Q7TvX/s1600/HC100.3.jpg" height="320" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dropping out of Happy Valley, starting to feel the hurt.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: <a href="http://alanbrandtphoto.com/2014-hc100/" target="_blank">Alan Brandt Photography</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I rolled into Aide 4 Gerry was there and I got word that Jace was already 30 seconds up, and then everything came apart on the sandy doubletracks before the final Aide. I hadn't consumed enough food or water on the big climb out of 3 and across Happy Valley, and I was paying for it now. Hot sun, combined with frustrating loose sand (both uphill and down), wore me down--surfing and flailing on the descents, and fighting for every turn of the cranks on the ups. By the time I hit Aide 5 at 86 miles I was back 3 minutes on Jace. He opened up 3 minutes in 15 miles. Shiiiiiiiiit.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6PbpYtb2UvAxYcmItykJwy0-Wa9wa-XUnTb4ZYDMmAXHDt8LFWZazQTFtTjYtNqXYnLhw0H7imZE1k8SIWrWBodixD5g99vTZYrfalm-pkGM5x06JL8MSC2ri7uFGQDEjiY3Ahq_qpl2/s1600/DSCN8622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6PbpYtb2UvAxYcmItykJwy0-Wa9wa-XUnTb4ZYDMmAXHDt8LFWZazQTFtTjYtNqXYnLhw0H7imZE1k8SIWrWBodixD5g99vTZYrfalm-pkGM5x06JL8MSC2ri7uFGQDEjiY3Ahq_qpl2/s1600/DSCN8622.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Exiting Aide 5, just able to keep turning the cranks. No, I didn't grown earlobes during the race; those are the ice sock on my neck. Weirdo.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A fresh Camelbak and an ice sock on my neck turned everything around for me, and once I entered Tiddlywinks I decided to just enjoy one of my favorite trails on the planet and stop worrying about Jace--I would either catch him or not. Tiddlywinks is a fantastic foray through the forest, replete with big banked turns, tabletops, double pumps, and really fast riding--I love it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiddlywinks didn't disappoint, and I didn't catch Jace. I had a ball out there, but despite what I thought was a pretty good rally down Tiddlywinks and the Storm King finish to the road, I never saw him again. What can I say? I had a good race, Jace had a better one. Not the outcome I wanted, but that's racing.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IgSv_Gm2tWlz5GM_94PPgpqtwoVqw8raB5lCeXXpRrbXMGOEIGZdvvdebVKWAZ8LkZIBegnFEmjDBPQgupNkgXPYeSU1H5YEOL9Q7WLU1aWdULBMpgOUMemWMt9VQz41Cm-2JoE0tQe6/s1600/DSCN8639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IgSv_Gm2tWlz5GM_94PPgpqtwoVqw8raB5lCeXXpRrbXMGOEIGZdvvdebVKWAZ8LkZIBegnFEmjDBPQgupNkgXPYeSU1H5YEOL9Q7WLU1aWdULBMpgOUMemWMt9VQz41Cm-2JoE0tQe6/s1600/DSCN8639.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rolling the final singletrack into the finish. <span style="text-align: start;">I was happy that I raced flat-free and without mechanicals (it's been a while); the </span><a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bikes/detail/12" style="text-align: start;">LES Singlespeed</a><span style="text-align: start;"> was the dreamy ripper that it always is, and my </span><a href="http://www.laufforks.com/" style="text-align: start;">Lauf fork</a><span style="text-align: start;"> and </span><a href="http://www.amclassic.com/en/products/mtb-wheels/mtb-29-tubeless-single-speed" style="text-align: start;">American Classic wheels</a><span style="text-align: start;"> rocked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've spent the last couple of weeks pondering this year's race, and the difference between winning and almost-winning. I love racing, and the drive to win is addicting. Winning could be finishing first, but it could also be breaking your own personal best, or just finishing the biggest race you've ever tackled. Winning is taking on a huge challenge with no guaranteed outcome, and through physical strength and mental toughness overcoming the odds and your own doubts, performing better than you thought you could.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When it comes down to it, winning is why we race--the drive to win pushes us to ride harder than we could imagine otherwise, and to achieve things on a bike that wouldn't happen if we weren't racing. There's always the thrill of wanting to overcome the unknown: "Will I be able to get up the Lava Lake climb without walking?" "Can I clean that section of downhill?" "Can I break 8 hours?" "Will I be the fastest racer out there today?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have a page torn out of some mountain bike magazine hanging on the wall of my mini-workshop at home, with a commentary on "7 Reasons Racing Will Always Remain Relevant." My favorite is Number 6: <i>Racing makes you stronger. You think you know your limits, then the starting gun goes off and you immediately discover you can ride much harder still. Racing recalibrates your very potential; it reminds you of just how fast and strong you can truly be.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The singlespeed podium. Still smiles, despite having not had the race I was hoping for. I may not have finished where I wanted, but damn this racing thing is still fun!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Tom Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Which is all great for approaching competition philosophically, but I was really hoping for the first-place win at the HC100. It's frustrating that I can't put my finger on just where I came up short; I had a good race, just not a great one. There are a few things that I can point out where I could have done better--taking in more water and food during the Aide 3-Aide 4 stretch, for one. </span><span style="font-size: large;">It didn't take much to recover from that error, but I would guess that it cost me a few minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jace put in a hell of a performance out there, and on that day I didn't have what I needed to take the win. Again, that's racing. If the outcome were pre-determined, if we knew ahead of time who would finish first, there would be no point in starting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, what now? Train harder, rest better, and get myself cued-up for my favorite race of the year: the <a href="http://www.grandtarghee.com/the-resort/news-events/1863/PierresHole50100EnduranceMTBRace.php" target="_blank">Pierre's Hole 100</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Oh yeah, and procure a replacement helmet...</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/aj-linnell/gearlist/high-cascades-100-1.html?_tk=d74ae0b208" target="_blank">High Cascades 100 Gearlist on AXLPATH</a></span></i></div>
</div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/162680947" target="_blank">39 Miles</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/162680947" target="_blank">6200' of elevation gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/162680947" target="_blank">3:21:14 to the finish</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>3rd-Place Singlespeed</i></span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Holy moly. Qué estupido. What the hell?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ouch.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This year's <a href="https://www.usacycling.org/2014/marathon-mountain-bike-nationals" target="_blank">Marathon National Championships</a> was an eye-opener for me--I wasn't really expecting such a slap in the face, but it became apparent shortly after the start that choosing to race 3 out of the last 4 weekends had been an error in judgment, and that the <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2014/07/mud-blood-and-soggy-diapers.html" target="_blank">Tatanka 100</a> took way more out of me that I had thought.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWzAoyBep7N6S_ojK-2_oTAbVV7M7A-KznidK4TWEn6F7KorKjjjmr2gkXNcvz0pVW2WYJT46cXPw4mJlc8r-bFkiXClrfqNOlmwF3h27QfX9sIpSpVNqDFR5kR52e0cviQS8QIwmlBgs1/s1600/IMG_0178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWzAoyBep7N6S_ojK-2_oTAbVV7M7A-KznidK4TWEn6F7KorKjjjmr2gkXNcvz0pVW2WYJT46cXPw4mJlc8r-bFkiXClrfqNOlmwF3h27QfX9sIpSpVNqDFR5kR52e0cviQS8QIwmlBgs1/s1600/IMG_0178.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The gun fired precisely at 8am and we were off, once again a small handful of singlespeeders spinning frantically</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">down the bike path</span><span style="font-size: large;"> in whatever gear we had privately chosen for the day's course, finally turning up Cold Springs where the race really started.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Cold Springs climb begins with a dirt road stretch that peters down to a ski area cat-track with a couple of brief, really steep climbs, and then turns into gorgeous, flowing singletrack for the majority of the ascent. When we started up the dirt road Cary and Tom carried what I thought was a pretty stiff pace for that time in the morning, and I felt awful. There was no spring in my step, no fire in my shorts; my legs felt like they were filled with sand and my torso begged for relief.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And then the grade of the climb kicked up to really steep and Cary and Tom maintained their pace and I came to the realization that I should not be racing. It's not that my body hurt, just that I couldn't go any harder. I was slow and heavy, and I didn't like it one bit.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've had friends describe the experience as, "That's when I started going backwards." </span><span style="font-size: large;">I understand the sentiment, and in that moment I really<i> </i>understood it, but that isn't precisely how I would describe it. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I mean, I was going forwards. We were all going forwards. It's just that Cary and Tom were going forwards <i>faster</i>.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was like my worst CrossFit nightmare. (I'm presuming here, having never actually done a CrossFit workout.) Like trying to race my bike uphill while dragging my fatigue behind me like a truck tire in the dirt. Or one of those Chariot Stroller things filled with squalling triplets. The rabbits were there, right in front of me, and I knew I was supposed to give chase, I wanted to give chase, but the tire was dragging and those triplets were shrieking and my legs were filled with sand and my arms and shoulders and back were so damn tired and it just wasn't happening.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That's when I gave myself a good talking-to. "Listen pal, it's time for you to Harden The Fuck Up and get your head together. You're having a rough morning? Boo-freaking-hoo. It's your own crappy decision-making that landed you here, and you're damn well not going to bail. In fact, you're going to give this race the best you have to give on this day. If those guys are holding too fast a pace, then find your own damn pace and see if you can suck it up enough to not totally suck it up."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">So I backed off the pace and settled into something more manageable, keeping Cary and Tom in sight but not pushing. And then 20 minutes later the triplets went silent and the tire disappeared. Once I focused my energy on riding my own race, pushing the pace that felt right to me, everything got better. I still didn't have much fire in my shorts, but I felt smoother and as long as I stayed seated and spun along I was actually able to ride faster. There's a lesson in there somewhere.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was 40 minutes into a 3+-hour race and glad to be spinning</span><span style="font-size: large;"> along, ticking off the distance and digging the flow of the forested singletrack.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">I finally felt like racing, and so I revved it up. Slowly, slowly I closed the gap to Tom and passed him about a mile before the top of the climb. Then slowly, slowly was closing the gap to Cary and got to within 100 yards of him and was starting to feel confident, when the climb ended and he was gone.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Now, I'm well aware that downhilling is not my strength. I've gotten better, but there's no doubt that I'm better on the up. But Cary just disappeared! Initially there was some dust in the air to suggest that he had been there, but it wasn't long before even that trace was gone. Damn, that guy is fast on the down.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZ3aqIXl2Y9jAWKWVga1STL29aSj8n9pICWFno8i_kbIamX2PWr0nk_JlO-O_i9YcQC5uE5GB1fXlilTUUqw_wMSUsdQiTQ3ohUK9hOURRYjdujsXDIRxfUyxymlqHhVXeDAVSySqXy9Z/s1600/IMG_0201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZ3aqIXl2Y9jAWKWVga1STL29aSj8n9pICWFno8i_kbIamX2PWr0nk_JlO-O_i9YcQC5uE5GB1fXlilTUUqw_wMSUsdQiTQ3ohUK9hOURRYjdujsXDIRxfUyxymlqHhVXeDAVSySqXy9Z/s1600/IMG_0201.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dropping through the rock garden with Tom hot on my heels. (Hidden behind the tree.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Towards the bottom of the descent (it's long--we're talking 35+ minutes of downhill) I started to hear Tom's freewheel buzzing away a switchback above, which meant that Tom was also descending faster than I was. We finished out the lap together and then rolled back onto the asphalt for one more wild session of spinning back to the bottom of Cold Springs.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was clear that either one of those guys would be able to beat me on the downhill, so I knew that I had to make time on the climb if I wanted to compete. So once I got through the steep little bastard climbs early-on, my focus shifted to spinning smoothly, but putting everything I had into propelling myself forward. If there was ever a time to start burning matches this was it, and the more I burned the less I would have to carry uphill, right?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I had gotten out of the base area ahead of Tom, but that skinny little bearded guy stayed latched-on, hanging 20 seconds, 30 seconds back every time I turned a switchback. Eventually Cary came into view up the trail, and I slowly started reeling him in, making up a little time on every turn until he was about a quarter-mile up when he rolled over the top and was gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Glancing back when I crested the top I couldn't see Tom any more, so I had a bit of confidence dropping into the final big descent. If I could really pin it on the down I might be able to hold 2nd-place through the finish. Things were rolling along nicely and I thought I was cooking downhill pretty good, pumping the rolls and rallying the corners when I hammered through a particularly rocky section and</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Pfft! (Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Flat tire. It's enough to make you cry.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I rolled downhill a bit, slowly, vainly searching for a patch of flattish ground where I could pull off the trail to perform the repair, but on this endless sidehill there was no emergency lane in sight so eventually I just stepped into the bushes on the downhill side and set to work.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Find the hole, spin it to the bottom so that the sealant pools and hopefully plugs the hole, hit the tire with CO2, and get back in the groove. At least that's the theory. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The sealant did its job and my tire stopped hemorrhaging air and I busted out a CO2 cartridge and started airing it back up when Tom went ripping past, yelled something sympathetic, and was gone. So much second-place. I topped off the tire, got my crap back together, and rallied off down the trail after him and was having a ball on the rollers when</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Pfft! (Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">C'mon! I think I might have said a bad word at this point.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I had blown out the plug of sealant, which I had heard about before but never experienced. Thankfully <a href="http://davebyers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Dave Byers</a> had turned me onto this cool little tool that saved me from having to take the time to install a tube.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/innovations-tubeless-tire-repair-kit.html" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqy3jLr0SDylpG04zTw1pPcbdt3td04Ol8vz34YHlw4yEksj6DMFuzU34VnYrFHNcq677IfakIbc5SLWex5edbQl8UIzvY1siDeCwQq3NqeK_tzE4GXSL8KprB30-nSAXB2gjiuwWcYPfP/s1600/Innovations-Tubeless-Repair-2.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/innovations-tubeless-tire-repair-kit.html" target="_blank">Use the forked needle to push one of the bacon strings into the hole, and then pull the fork back out. The sealant does the rest and voilá! No more hole.</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This was the first time I've had to use it--totally worth carrying. Exponentially faster than installing a tube, with none of the mess.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And I was off again, a bit more tentative at first to see if the plug would hold, and then opening it up for the final trip down the forested switchbacks to the bottom. Having not heard any signs of 4th-place sneaking up behind me, I did some mental calculus and decided that while I had nothing to gain from riding the bizarre man-made rock garden into the finish zone I had quite a lot to lose if I blew the line and broke my body or my bike 2 weeks before <a href="http://highcascades100.com/" target="_blank">High Cascades</a>, so I took the "B-line" around which is really more fun anyway even if it does take 30 seconds longer.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyaUS0HwgyacMN_adXBQL0kUg7_DWxacXcUgIUe1tHPkb2Zf3ZFjdpO1BhTu_niO1yGqxYLf_tVrGF28WgN3DT7Y8c1okWnZv5yTt1Feattjs1HVKJOS_Hdo49I3rkCZWqdvqer3L4eNc/s1600/IMG_0217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyaUS0HwgyacMN_adXBQL0kUg7_DWxacXcUgIUe1tHPkb2Zf3ZFjdpO1BhTu_niO1yGqxYLf_tVrGF28WgN3DT7Y8c1okWnZv5yTt1Feattjs1HVKJOS_Hdo49I3rkCZWqdvqer3L4eNc/s1600/IMG_0217.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not this time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9jEG-PHCfKdbgIxIOh_8aNlQSYxR6gUOLCCnuuF4368Wg8mn4pzmcZFSflNTBg4gUI4qFRY1X3IbO5nngVL-_3R5_FoRf2VZkXMSCFvlJIhfu3vnEwGASc0CVtb2246iARHD69-xavLE/s1600/IMG_0225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9jEG-PHCfKdbgIxIOh_8aNlQSYxR6gUOLCCnuuF4368Wg8mn4pzmcZFSflNTBg4gUI4qFRY1X3IbO5nngVL-_3R5_FoRf2VZkXMSCFvlJIhfu3vnEwGASc0CVtb2246iARHD69-xavLE/s1600/IMG_0225.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Done. And DONE.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">And then, thankfully, it was over. 3rd-place singlespeed, slower than last year, but the course is so great and with Nationals only a few hours away from home how could I say no? Racing this weekend was undoubtedly the wrong decision in the bigger picture, but you know what they say: judgment is the product of reflecting on experience, and experience is the product of bad judgment.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLGGa0RQMXLxYiKufapbeldC_PpcY_rg_An7z3M1ckzK6zDJEjQ28F1OKkxyroBL-OWVA2g9i9OZhZD0o3v6fUZeaWzwI_YIAJpbSmiWuQfZ0XazoKpYC07_X9sXrH6aTJE0IDCGlMUD3G/s1600/Nats+Podium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLGGa0RQMXLxYiKufapbeldC_PpcY_rg_An7z3M1ckzK6zDJEjQ28F1OKkxyroBL-OWVA2g9i9OZhZD0o3v6fUZeaWzwI_YIAJpbSmiWuQfZ0XazoKpYC07_X9sXrH6aTJE0IDCGlMUD3G/s1600/Nats+Podium.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That race <i>was</i> an experience.</span></div>
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-41638808994135163272014-07-02T05:09:00.000-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.935-07:00Mud, Blood, and Soggy Diapers<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/159896746" style="font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">100 Miles</a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>(depends on whether you choose to believe Strava or Garmin Connect)</i></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/159896746" target="_blank">10,800' of elevation gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/159896746" target="_blank">10:05:13 to the finish</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>1st-Place Singlespeed, 7th Overall</i></span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This one was a real adventure. The <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2014/06/hanging-at-hundo.html?showComment=1404130468005#c3730671039958556258" target="_blank">Bailey Hundo</a> and <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2013/07/ride-bull-indeed.html" target="_blank">last year's Tatanka 100</a> were both fast, straightforward races for me with perfect trails and bluebird skies. This year's <a href="http://www.tatanka100.com/" target="_blank">Tatanka 100</a> couldn't have been more different.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Hamilton and I drove through an endless series of rainstorms on our way across Wyoming on Thursday, spasmodically checking the weather forecast over and over. Sure, they were getting a ton of rain in Sturgis, but if it just cleared up overnight maybe we'd have tacky hero dirt on Saturday? Spinning around the parking lot at Woodle Field at 4:45am, trying to "warm up" in the pouring rain, it was clear that this was going to be a wet, tough race.<br /><br />There was no way I could have anticipated just how hard it ended up being. <br /><br />It took about 1/4-mile for the chamois in my bibs to get saturated and turn into a primo case of soggy diapers. And with all of the spray coming up off of everybody's wheels my glasses were quickly coated in brown water. I found that it was better to skip drafting and just ride in the breeze, with fresh rainfall washing my glasses and teeth clean. Thankfully at the last minute I had chosen to keep wearing a vest and armwarmers rather than stripping down.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I entered the Centennial Trail singletrack a bit behind Gerry Pflug and Daniel Rapp and ended up riding with those guys for a few miles of fun, albeit slippery, Black Hills gold. One of the high points of the day was rollicking along through those early miles, but eventually I felt the need to ramp up the pace, as much to stay warm as anything, and passed on a short climb.<br /><br />I went back and forth with Tinker Juarez a couple of times during his unfortunate mechanical issues, and then somewhere after the Dalton Lake Aide my own drama started. Just before entering the day's rockiest two-track descent my rear tire blew, and when I went to try airing it up again the valve stem was gone! It must have gotten tagged by a branch and sheared off? Gerry passed me just as I was finishing putting a tube in and gave me the encouragement to hurry the hell up with my repair because Daniel was only a few minutes back.<br /><br />Once I was back on the bike I was pretty motivated to rally the descent to see if I could reel Gerry back in (what was I thinking trying to catch up to a fast guy on a geared full suspension bike on a wet, rocky descent?!) so I got rolling downhill pretty good and then steered myself into a bad line and</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Blamo!</i><br /><br />Over the handlebars and face-first in the mud. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I leapt to my feet in shock, did a quick check for bike or body damage, and took off in pursuit again. Once again I was rallying after Gerry and got rolling along pretty good and then steered myself into another bad line about a quarter-mile later and</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Blamo!</i><br /><br />Over the handlebars and face-first in the mud, again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Again I got up, checked for damage, and took off down the hill at a slightly more reasonable clip until I got onto smoother dirt and let off the brakes and was rolling along pretty good and steered to avoid a particularly deep, mud puddle-filled rut a mile later and</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Fwip!</i><br /><br />My front tire washed out and I went down hard. That one hurt. I had to take a few deep breaths after standing up out of the puddle, with blood freshly flowing from both knees and a bruise coming on my hip.<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaR5Cq24goYFU8Yb2wc7ydkEjSxmEMadjvkCbzuIgfb6mnnK8HZQ9zTfLsM1_UkCSd7i7brfJUDVQEV73KHabhq1i53454LF671A8vcJwTBcFfI7gBIbuZDehD95oubvR9CpFeEJMGYXsb/s1600/T100+mud.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaR5Cq24goYFU8Yb2wc7ydkEjSxmEMadjvkCbzuIgfb6mnnK8HZQ9zTfLsM1_UkCSd7i7brfJUDVQEV73KHabhq1i53454LF671A8vcJwTBcFfI7gBIbuZDehD95oubvR9CpFeEJMGYXsb/s1600/T100+mud.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-align: start;">It was wet out there! Through it all, the </span><a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bikes/detail/12" style="text-align: start;">LES singlespeed</a><span style="text-align: start;">, </span><a href="http://www.laufforks.com/" style="text-align: start;">Lauf fork</a><span style="text-align: start;">; and </span><a href="http://www.amclassic.com/en/products/mtb-wheels/mtb-29-tubeless-single-speed" style="text-align: start;">American Classic</a><span style="text-align: start;"> wheels were a killer combo--sick performance and total reliability. Way better than some of the geared bikes...</span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: </span></span>John Bush</td></tr>
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<br />That made me decide to back it off a bit and catch my breath, which was good, because soon after that I lost my rear brake and had to ride the remaining 60 miles with only the front. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze all the way to the handlebars and that righthand brake lever did nothing. Nada. Zilch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now, before this starts to sound like a heinous, why-didn't-you-quit, soggy-diapers-and-big-tears-rolling-down-my-muddy-cheeks story I have to say that there were some really great times, too. Romping those early miles with Gerry and Daniel. The singletrack descent through the forest to Silver City when the sun came out. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">(Even with just the front brake--m</span><span style="font-size: large;">y chamois dried out!) Spinning up the canyon-bottom singletrack in the sun to the gnarly hike-a-bike. I even enjoyed shouldering my bike for the gnarly climb to the canyon rim. And though the Mickelson Rail-Trail was as long as I remembered it being, it felt really good to crank some miles from the saddle, just spinning away.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizCF0UitnK80BcdSD22mHLXwviIw6ol8Ll3m43brlyaMxYVeG6_tEt-UY6rveAsDyocNJ3TsADoQt_2uCbIlVeTDa2F4n-NV53otxHkM1qWvC81UvsWTWIDzVvdt44j0VLvow0OMzFwFV8/s1600/10410126_632986970131298_7452517534275231140_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizCF0UitnK80BcdSD22mHLXwviIw6ol8Ll3m43brlyaMxYVeG6_tEt-UY6rveAsDyocNJ3TsADoQt_2uCbIlVeTDa2F4n-NV53otxHkM1qWvC81UvsWTWIDzVvdt44j0VLvow0OMzFwFV8/s1600/10410126_632986970131298_7452517534275231140_n.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Done with the Mickelson, ready for some downhill!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Ryan O'dell</span></td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Once I crested the top of the Mickelson climb and descended to the Englewood Aide, I hit the day's lowest point. The rain started coming down hard again, with a breeze that made it just that much chillier, and my body temp dropped considerably. I hadn't seen anybody for a long while when all of a sudden Jim and Gerry were riding back down towards me from a wrong turn that we had all managed to take.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So I spun around and rode with them back to the wrong-turn junction where we re-found Matt and Drew Edsall, and then spent a few minutes figuring out where we were and where we needed to go. (I suspect course tampering; these guys do a great job of marking the course, but we hadn't seen any Tatanka skull markings for an uncharacteristically long time before coming upon a left-turn arrow. Turns out that it was supposed to be a right-turn arrow.) Once we figured things out, </span><span style="font-size: large;">Jim spun the arrow to face the correct direction and </span><span style="font-size: large;">we took the righthand option instead</span><span style="font-size: large;">. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />I was pretty stoked to be in 3rd-place overall up to that point, but had gotten so cold that my jaw was cramped shut and I was shivering uncontrollably--there was no way I would be able to maintain any kind of speed in that condition with only one brake. (I had boldly dropped the vest and armwarmers at the sunny Silver City aide station.) Right around here was when I felt the first doubts about whether I would be able to finish.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But as JayP likes to say, "No negative thoughts!" So I gritted my teeth and tried to ride smart, focusing on staying upright and hoping to maintain my position in the Singlespeed division.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Salvation came at the Galena Aide Station. Through clenched teeth I asked the volunteers there if they had a plastic trash bag and the dude pulled the one out of their trash can, dumped out a bit of refuse, and ripped a head hole and arm holes in it for me. Then the other volunteer pulled a plastic emergency poncho out of her first-aid kit and put that on me too!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ahhhh.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Where I had been questioning whether I would be able to finish, now I was raucously flapping in the breeze and warming back up delightfully. I got passed by a couple more geared guys during the final dirt-road descents and then blissfully rolled into Sturgis under blue skies and full sun, ecstatic to be wearing two layers of plastic and no longer shivering. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJXueSGAaHNkyUB5t6LAtCs9HpjfGCWa65ML7ey5pjzMTMaySVeyL8rbNia6v9aS7YLEUqBONgHbP4k4HxTiWm9CeXcK7ue1ycnnMjRdi_C8A72V3JII_vA4nUlQCEOcpe-xxSzAamTYG/s1600/IMG_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJXueSGAaHNkyUB5t6LAtCs9HpjfGCWa65ML7ey5pjzMTMaySVeyL8rbNia6v9aS7YLEUqBONgHbP4k4HxTiWm9CeXcK7ue1ycnnMjRdi_C8A72V3JII_vA4nUlQCEOcpe-xxSzAamTYG/s1600/IMG_0013.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">10 hours of muddy racing completed. Awesome.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: AJ Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">My goals of finishing under 8 hours to win <a href="http://www.tatanka100.com/?page_id=255" target="_blank">The Ring</a> and placing in the top 3 overall weren't even close to being realized, but there was no disappointment in my day's outcome. Instead, I was happy to have finished at all, and really happy to have kept my hold on the Singlespeed win. Two hours slower than last year, but dammit I felt strong throughout and was able to overcome my own share of adversity to get it done.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX93rat51eDdJeSAHn6rBoVUWZLQ-SRqqNPeL79Yp2gN61s_NTkkZ0_l7kVsijHsEXcMG4KaS940akbGSkOWq4jCMxeqettK7eJdCXOAm0w7M5putCu_bT9PfYHIrh2tLz18Gcj1q9JBki/s1600/IMG_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX93rat51eDdJeSAHn6rBoVUWZLQ-SRqqNPeL79Yp2gN61s_NTkkZ0_l7kVsijHsEXcMG4KaS940akbGSkOWq4jCMxeqettK7eJdCXOAm0w7M5putCu_bT9PfYHIrh2tLz18Gcj1q9JBki/s1600/IMG_0015.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Tatanka 100 Singlespeed podium, with Daniel Rapp, and Trevor Rockwell. (Hamilton joined us up there after kindly taking this photo.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Hamilton Smith</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Will I be back? Hell yes! The Black Hills riding is too good to turn down, and I still want that Ring...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/aj-linnell/gearlist/tatanka-100.html" target="_blank">Tatanka 100 Gearlist on AXLPATH</a></i></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/153791489" target="_blank">94 Miles</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/153791489" target="_blank">10,800' of elevation gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/153791489" target="_blank">7:09:52 to the finish</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>1st-Place Singlespeed, 5th Overall</i></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"HUNDO definition<br />noun. hundred. : How much? A hundo! Geeesh!"</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fast, fast, fast. That's the only way to describe last weekend's <a href="http://www.bailey100.com/index.html" target="_blank">Bailey Hundo</a>--buff, flowing singletrack on the Colorado Trail and high-elevation dirt road through wildflowers with massive vistas. By far the fastest I've ever raced a 100, with the biggest gearing I've run for one of these races.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />It was damn cold at Saturday's pre-sunrise start. There was a thick layer of frost on my bike seat when <a href="http://ridinglifeschallenges.blogspot.com/2014/06/fun-in-mountains-bailey-hundo.html?spref=tw" target="_blank">Trevor</a> and I mounted up for the short spin from the camping area to the start in downtown Bailey, and my fingers throbbed with the screaming barfy's through the re-warming process once we got there. When </span><span style="font-size: large;">I did the mental calculations to figure out how soon the sun would crest the horizon and start to warm our world I came up with an hour of damn cold racing to come. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Shivering uncontrollably in the pack, I started to wonder how I would perform. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Brrr.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Colorado State Senator Chris Romer sends us off with a shotgun blast.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Austin Smart</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">As it turned out, it took about twenty miles for my body to rev up and feel like I was racing. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I hung in the pack for the opening road stretch, making a pass here and there but not really pushing it, and then started going a bit harder after a few miles when we turned onto the new two-track. For a mile or two I fell in with two other singlespeeders but ended up passing them on a short climb and sliding in with a trio of geared riders who were holding a slightly faster pace.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKirIpeCzITeMNaMgOzz-h7iEEU3Xh5z18r2wde6X8iRUogE40xRjkCMRoYHUShzinr4jWEwEo77C_30WuU_lCyzMmWiuO0IzH1b7FdSEHKFD2atKB8ovQDfLMWnsqXx9DTRbKc7DEfu4/s1600/CO+Trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKirIpeCzITeMNaMgOzz-h7iEEU3Xh5z18r2wde6X8iRUogE40xRjkCMRoYHUShzinr4jWEwEo77C_30WuU_lCyzMmWiuO0IzH1b7FdSEHKFD2atKB8ovQDfLMWnsqXx9DTRbKc7DEfu4/s1600/CO+Trail.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, Colorado Trail fun. The sun feels good!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Austin Smart</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;">Romping through the opening miles of the Colorado Trail with those three was super fun, embracing the two-wheel drift on kitty litter-laden corners and powering through short, punchy climbs. It was bittersweet to get onto a longer stretch of climbing and have to make the pass, but I had finally warmed up and my legs felt like pushing harder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The gap opened up pretty quickly and once the trail swooped downhill again I was all alone, with no other riders in sight. As it turned out, those guys were the last riders I saw until around the 90-mile mark when we rejoined the 50-mile course and I started catching Hundito racers.<br /><br />Now, I love riding alone. I do it alot. In reality, most of my riding time is solo, or with The Ruester. Erica loves to tease me about just how introverted I am. At the best of times I'm marginal company, but when I'm breathing too hard to speak, drooling on my toptube with my heartrate pinned? Forget about it. (Fortunately Rue doesn't particularly care if I don't keep up my end of the conversation.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But that was a <i>long</i> time to be out there alone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The 20 or so miles on the Colorado Trail were fine--I was focused on riding smoothly and making the most of it. But once I came through Aide 6 and was cranking up the long road climb to Stoney pass, that all changed. Without really knowing what goal to shoot for on the horizon, or how steep the climbing was going to be, or where the rest of the field was, obnoxious questions and doubts started buzzing around my brain and </span><span style="font-size: large;">I became my own worst company.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"Am I riding hard enough?" "Is this pace too hard?" "Whoa, is this climb getting <i>steeper</i>?" "Am I chasing any singlespeeders, or am I in the lead?" "Will the next Aide Station have Coke?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"Why do I do this shit?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Thankfully, the next Aide did have Coke, and a lovely volunteer handed me a blissfully cold water bottle full of that delicious, fizzy elixir. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I have to take a moment here to put in a note of thanks to the Hundo Aide Station crews--they rocked! Being the only humans with whom I interacted for 70 miles of riding, I really appreciated their enthusiasm and support. When I rolled in to Aide 6 looking for my drop cooler, a volunteer was already standing there holding it out for me and asking how he could help. Unreal!</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br />Back to the race--finally, somewhere around mile 80, a photographer fed me the info that I was about three minutes back from the fourth place Pro/Open rider and comfortably in the lead of the Singlespeed division.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Phew.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">With a few more miles of climbing to go before starting the descent to the finish, I stayed hard on the gas to see if I could reel in the mystery Pro I was chasing before he could shift up and crank away on the down. </span><span style="font-size: large;">('Cause why not?) Eventually his red kit did come into sight about a quarter-mile ahead, but there just wasn't enough climbing left to bring him back and he disappeared once the course flattened out.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3CYcW5S8WCaMuvfugOdBATSlUig6mItvDn0gmiy5HmYbEUTJ38Fo3mG_pZugmjvPW5d1gJD9yUYzTknYg1LxuoCwwHUt0tlNiF8qyGxxvf6Ko7mbKkES36UrfUnIar-YWjKPCVv7r1yU/s1600/Done%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3CYcW5S8WCaMuvfugOdBATSlUig6mItvDn0gmiy5HmYbEUTJ38Fo3mG_pZugmjvPW5d1gJD9yUYzTknYg1LxuoCwwHUt0tlNiF8qyGxxvf6Ko7mbKkES36UrfUnIar-YWjKPCVv7r1yU/s1600/Done%2521.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Woohoo! Done. And stoked.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Austin Smart</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The descent to the finish flew by, ripping past cars at speeds over 40mph, and then I was rolling over the finish line in a lovely meadow by the Platte River. Somebody handed me a finisher's trophy, <a href="http://nuemtb.com/" target="_blank">NUE Series</a> director Ryan O'Dell shook my hand, and I stepped off the bike after another fun, successful Damn Long Race.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-IddpfiQk9sShFDPKI22Fm-YWVN6UF27T4a6ZjQdfalcLhCHDa5979uHRA_BtHF3r1jbtXFZ7Tl0tka2LKyNxfDNbc30R11ALlhEHRwUdEgGwRkdG1h0es-SLAnLh49L0xuFsR5TOiVW/s1600/Podium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-IddpfiQk9sShFDPKI22Fm-YWVN6UF27T4a6ZjQdfalcLhCHDa5979uHRA_BtHF3r1jbtXFZ7Tl0tka2LKyNxfDNbc30R11ALlhEHRwUdEgGwRkdG1h0es-SLAnLh49L0xuFsR5TOiVW/s1600/Podium.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The 2014 Bailey Hundo Men's Singlespeed podium. These Colorado boys are strong!</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />Photo: Austin Smart</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjqMs16Wi47XFLFUEyy0kI_-uUamAOdYJvCRQyF2RusBCECfCl53JdbSSZGNCkY2-fBIi-EQN0IDT3URjQnhHlH6Aylk0ahJZ7v07c7AcAiwwl21l9jLCX9zihY1GxabiBPMyLNzGB7YL/s1600/dsc_1274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjqMs16Wi47XFLFUEyy0kI_-uUamAOdYJvCRQyF2RusBCECfCl53JdbSSZGNCkY2-fBIi-EQN0IDT3URjQnhHlH6Aylk0ahJZ7v07c7AcAiwwl21l9jLCX9zihY1GxabiBPMyLNzGB7YL/s1600/dsc_1274.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Carlos' family even broke out the champagne for the celebration.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />Photo: Austin Smart</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">While I can't say that this race all felt good--it hurt just about like a 100-mile race should--I felt strong throughout and for the first time in recent memory I didn't have any cramping issues. Maybe the gentler-paced start helped? Whatever it was, it felt really good to push my body to perform and have it respond the way I wanted.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Will I be back for another Hundo? I imagine so. They throw a really fun, festive event with killer camping, and the riding on the Colorado Trail is definitely worth coming back. But first things first--heading to Sturgis next weekend for another <a href="http://www.tatanka100.com/" target="_blank">Tatanka 100</a>. Ride the bull!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/aj-linnell/gearlist/bailey-hundo.html" target="_blank">Bailey Hundo Gearlist on AXLPATH</a></i></span></div>
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-66494180118564412102014-05-25T06:10:00.001-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.968-07:00Lapping It Up<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/143018831" target="_blank">17 Laps, 144 miles</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/143018831" target="_blank">17,690' of elevation gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/143018831" target="_blank">11:20:36 on-course</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>1st-Place Solo Male</i></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Aah, Lemans starts. Such a wonderfully antiquated way to ruin the beginning of a perfectly good bike race.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHHHxPyNPJHhy6dQnrzEWcp8DB4S2WrdD57MFQtb8Irw7FXw37i4AwHP9QEJaxBoXnWwIsPx4WMchL4QP-bweHL-nUDze7LEziNrbaKcnJ66Lkw8Jbua_72-pBe7Il04v6hgPQK47K9YE/s1600/IMG_0020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHHHxPyNPJHhy6dQnrzEWcp8DB4S2WrdD57MFQtb8Irw7FXw37i4AwHP9QEJaxBoXnWwIsPx4WMchL4QP-bweHL-nUDze7LEziNrbaKcnJ66Lkw8Jbua_72-pBe7Il04v6hgPQK47K9YE/s1600/IMG_0020.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The potty shot. Good access from the start line!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">We stood a mere 20 yards from our jumble of bikes at last </span><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday's </span><a href="http://www.ridesalmon.com/#!12-hrs-of-disco-/c1eyf" style="font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">12 Hours of Disco</a><span style="font-size: large;">, almost able to feel the rubber in our palms as we listened to the countdown and yearned to just sit on our steeds and pedal out onto the course.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">"5 minutes 'til the start. We're going to be on-time!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">"1 minute."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">"15 seconds." BLAM!!! Promptly after the announcer gave us the 15 second warning a barrage of shotgun blasts went off, and we all spent a brief moment wondering what happened to those 15 seconds and why we were just standing around and then we were off in a cloud of dust, arms and legs a-flying and pedals turning down the straightaway, around the flagging at the turnaround and back over the start/finish tabletop.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">As seems to be the trend lately I got stuck mid-pack, trying to work my way forward while avoiding getting tossed off of my bike in the scrum. I managed to make a few passes on wide stretches early in the course, and then settled in for the first lap.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">One of the wonderful features of this course is its high-quality singletrack; it's fun and flowy, and there is very little double-track or dirt road riding--maybe 1/2-mile at the end of the lap . The flip-side is that it can be challenging to pass, especially if there are more than one or two riders ahead. So when I rolled up to the rear end of a string of 6 riders about a mile into lap 1, I just accepted that it would be a warm-up lap and adjusted my pace to match theirs.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">It was actually pretty nice to spin around the course in the morning light, taking in the verdant greens of springtime and surrounded by the smells of dew-laden sage. I also discovered that fighting my competitive urge and leaving 20' between me and the pack kept me from sucking their dust, and improved the view.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Once we hit the stretch of dirt road heading into the base area I was able to pass my Lap-1 compadres and crank it up a bit. Erica fed me the info that I was 2 minutes back on the solo leader, so with a fresh water bottle in hand I put in a chase.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiiBvZ0Z1mVyb3x0DuFhHf60Iy1bosCLudPlXwhsW5lbcCn6SBd12wvzJNue1xk4ARWNnm1r6-R4mUKEx3cEsMgSlcYeH2N_K0XzBjYaFqTV8gDmUtPsMta67O7xEHKEC6Fs8bvY1vn48/s1600/IMG_0031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiiBvZ0Z1mVyb3x0DuFhHf60Iy1bosCLudPlXwhsW5lbcCn6SBd12wvzJNue1xk4ARWNnm1r6-R4mUKEx3cEsMgSlcYeH2N_K0XzBjYaFqTV8gDmUtPsMta67O7xEHKEC6Fs8bvY1vn48/s1600/IMG_0031.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Flynn brothers hand off the baton, with Tom and Ryon from the Pro Leisure team chomping at their heels.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">One of the other interesting features of this course is the incredibly long views you get. The singletrack winds through sage-covered hills with no tree cover--at times it's possible to see the course a mile away. So when Ben Parsons came into sight m</span><span style="font-size: large;">idway through Lap 2 it took a remarkably long time to reel him in. Great motivation, but sometimes it felt like I was just spinning in place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After finally catching Ben and making the pass things got lonely out there. With 12 hours of riding to do, there were times when I wouldn't see anybody for 20 minutes, and then catch a pack of a few riders, and then see nobody again.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xiZxkS1TdLAWvVjapvpnhTR-n0Mb5N1WTCvg6UYPQ9mZB3EmtoswY4daJrGsqt2GZvOdN9uoq1FS-TyMOSZ8IQLKLK4zaw-GdAC4JTsQWFWUrgp5lzUw12sOoEjT-7LyPtugy50pgMJL/s1600/IMG_0058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xiZxkS1TdLAWvVjapvpnhTR-n0Mb5N1WTCvg6UYPQ9mZB3EmtoswY4daJrGsqt2GZvOdN9uoq1FS-TyMOSZ8IQLKLK4zaw-GdAC4JTsQWFWUrgp5lzUw12sOoEjT-7LyPtugy50pgMJL/s1600/IMG_0058.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Thanks, team!" How Erica manages to take photos while handing up a fresh bottle is a mystery.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoguWUZEE_PpzTUizZoofvnYRy4Dv3-8fz0pOIBywGrWErh0MBXjgNhgAJHgSeEPn8pjkFRVUkOzRr1SvzYJeruYNZMyr0F5h-pflBOlZQU6f0QjHe-pzUxO6hvxdidteBgsAM9SIlExHx/s1600/IMG_0042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoguWUZEE_PpzTUizZoofvnYRy4Dv3-8fz0pOIBywGrWErh0MBXjgNhgAJHgSeEPn8pjkFRVUkOzRr1SvzYJeruYNZMyr0F5h-pflBOlZQU6f0QjHe-pzUxO6hvxdidteBgsAM9SIlExHx/s1600/IMG_0042.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kris Quandt chose this event as his return to racing after a few years' hiatus. That guy is nuts!</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The laps rolled by, with Erica and Rue boosting me as I rode through the base area, handing up a fresh bottle and some info about how things stood in the competition. For many laps Ben was consistently 8 minutes back, and then somewhere around Lap 12 the gap started to open up to something more comfortable.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitI_SSOgk2lV57UYi1xS5wular1CfUW-1c8_8saRLqPKYNR6aAGzE-EitIrV7inDog8i3LpzCFeLYPv5FR2EUca-ET7tjT1ic6pFpfyl9ax6g1Z6qyPbqtIGO6thQSooF5NGNfBdhB-_i7/s1600/IMG_0063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitI_SSOgk2lV57UYi1xS5wular1CfUW-1c8_8saRLqPKYNR6aAGzE-EitIrV7inDog8i3LpzCFeLYPv5FR2EUca-ET7tjT1ic6pFpfyl9ax6g1Z6qyPbqtIGO6thQSooF5NGNfBdhB-_i7/s1600/IMG_0063.jpg" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oof. Still smiling, though.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">This was my first race on the futuristic contraption </span><a href="http://www.laufforks.com/" style="font-size: medium;" target="_blank">Lauf fork</a><span style="font-size: small;">, based on leaf-spring suspension. ("Lauf" is Icelantic for leaf.) They claim 60mm of travel, with some interesting engineering in the progressive suspension. Though </span><a href="http://reviews.mtbr.com/gear-review-lauf-trail-racer-29-fork" style="font-size: medium;" target="_blank">the Angry Singlespeeder was unimpressed with his test experience on one</a><span style="font-size: small;">, I really like it. It's sub-kilo weight is immediately noticeable, and it was remarkably effective at smoothing out the choppy stutter-bumps on this course's descents, even when they became massive potholes. Good enough to carry me to the day's win!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Somewhere around Lap 12 was also when my body started feeling like I had been riding for a really long time. Minor cramping, the urge to take a nap... </span><span style="font-size: large;">The post-hundred mile laps definitely felt hard. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I only had to look down for a dose of suck-it-up-Sally; usually that's precisely what I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and just keep turning the cranks.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHquNE4c7j_VB5rJfzeQRf2sKgM4XvB88qkTd3dKzV6m8UlHBSyYKZ-2h9U4dRY6AmNUvNMmlvRi-LPBCl8NpY8BGnFE9hyphenhyphennu7yj02C-4SOPikVX_mG40CYnpEMU3Se9xEIeg4ZRzxtnK/s1600/IMG_7052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHquNE4c7j_VB5rJfzeQRf2sKgM4XvB88qkTd3dKzV6m8UlHBSyYKZ-2h9U4dRY6AmNUvNMmlvRi-LPBCl8NpY8BGnFE9hyphenhyphennu7yj02C-4SOPikVX_mG40CYnpEMU3Se9xEIeg4ZRzxtnK/s1600/IMG_7052.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsORwnohv6HzbCq-fr7d8anL85pB6mcoW_CLnM2lskmOhG7LpzM6wTlJbQKlfuUwG68ZFQXWU7AJs5bBzpTT4Hczq0TrUBHBmggIv2g4uWD0gZskfSpbFkep_QFbN7YzB1Z6epwt9sEq3/s1600/IMG_0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsORwnohv6HzbCq-fr7d8anL85pB6mcoW_CLnM2lskmOhG7LpzM6wTlJbQKlfuUwG68ZFQXWU7AJs5bBzpTT4Hczq0TrUBHBmggIv2g4uWD0gZskfSpbFkep_QFbN7YzB1Z6epwt9sEq3/s1600/IMG_0068.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The one-lap-to-go headshot with my eternally-stylish wife. (Yes, I could have used the term "selfie" there, but I think I'd rather neuter myself with Erica's rusty garden trowel.) Yes, that is dirt all over my lips. Erica refused to kiss me.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And then I rode through basecamp at the end of Lap 16 and somebody said, "One lap to go," and I smiled. Somehow I had gotten the idea that a final lap would count if it <i>began</i> before the 12-hour cut-off (one approach to time-based racing), which would have meant riding an 18th lap. But when I learned that the final lap had to be <i>completed</i> before 7pm there were no delusions of disappointment. Sure, I had paid to race my bike for 12 hours, but 11.5 hours would do. I was damn tired.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So Ben and I headed out for the day's final lap together, which hurt just about as much as I thought it would, and then the 2014 12 Hours of Disco was over.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cooked.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMrSY6U2REBNj_kSi0FKtL001xrkv7dlvm10oz95cdql986j_p9R5Xplrm7XT12AYvjTSKrYw5TFUCzDkEtApn-Psxeh6KILctctRAgeqb7YN94HZsrqZvCjGlvlh29D24UX5CYH5ogwP/s1600/IMG_7396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMrSY6U2REBNj_kSi0FKtL001xrkv7dlvm10oz95cdql986j_p9R5Xplrm7XT12AYvjTSKrYw5TFUCzDkEtApn-Psxeh6KILctctRAgeqb7YN94HZsrqZvCjGlvlh29D24UX5CYH5ogwP/s1600/IMG_7396.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ahhh.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">When I came to a stop and finally stepped off the bike and my body realized that the day was over I felt no qualms about embracing gravity in the dirt with Rue rather than continuing to remain upright. And </span><span style="font-size: large;">I was pleased that after 20 minutes or so of loafing around I actually felt human again--even had energy to be social.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaA09TevEUt5JB-Vrc89HKWR7_x6YYQY1LK8SeJimVHJfb500VaNcXdFQqXT56xhXlf99nLC9-rp2p4IVlRvtbzpIYJ7jDgDzcq688AlvBdnbzh2Y5bjUJZGbOyZQTXsqnev0PjVQ2jSr/s1600/IMG_7404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaA09TevEUt5JB-Vrc89HKWR7_x6YYQY1LK8SeJimVHJfb500VaNcXdFQqXT56xhXlf99nLC9-rp2p4IVlRvtbzpIYJ7jDgDzcq688AlvBdnbzh2Y5bjUJZGbOyZQTXsqnev0PjVQ2jSr/s1600/IMG_7404.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Flynns took second in the duo-team division. I have no idea which one is Bart and which is George, but these dudes rip! And they're fun to hang with--none of that fast-guy cyclist douche-baggery here.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99T1BVmNfM4tKF4fNdtp9OGLdQPCy4PPK_RAw12pSbaefdB1dPRnuM-q5VSMdIAKm_BHrv8Vtl6ThdvkygHbWNb9lsw7T3o5KegHjolMYAzr5Leql9PYnnlgPkC27qJrWtMkbF_-ztNlH/s1600/IMG_7406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99T1BVmNfM4tKF4fNdtp9OGLdQPCy4PPK_RAw12pSbaefdB1dPRnuM-q5VSMdIAKm_BHrv8Vtl6ThdvkygHbWNb9lsw7T3o5KegHjolMYAzr5Leql9PYnnlgPkC27qJrWtMkbF_-ztNlH/s1600/IMG_7406.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The hay bales were a touch wobbly, but no injuries were sustained on the podium.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Erica Linnell</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The awards ceremony was fun, if a bit chaotic--good to catch up with friends I hadn't seen since last summer and hear about everybody's plans for the summer racing season.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Kicking back in a camp chair with the sun setting across the valley, I thoroughly enjoyed a "gourmet" hot dog with shredded carrot and basil topping </span><span style="font-size: large;">for dinner,</span><span style="font-size: large;"> and then it was time to pack up and head back to our world-class campground for a hard night's sleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next up: a few weeks at home, and then I'm trying out a new race: the <a href="http://www.bailey100.com/" target="_blank">Bailey Hundo</a> down in Colorado.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Have fun, go hard, then go harder.</i></span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-64593927053572566102014-04-27T07:09:00.001-07:002015-08-31T22:20:38.963-07:00Gettin' Froggy Wid It<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/132216843" target="_blank">6 Laps, 80 Miles</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/132216843" target="_blank">6500' of elevation gain</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/132216843" target="_blank">5:27:45 on-course</a></i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>1st-Place Solo Singlespeed, 2nd-Place Solo Overall</i></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">With Victor trapped in the clutches of a chilly, wet spring last weekend seemed like a great time to rally south for some desert riding--dry, sunny singletrack and temps in the mid-80's? Mmmmm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had heard about the <a href="http://6hoursinfroghollow.com/" target="_blank">6 Hours in Frog Hollow</a> for years; friends raved about the fast, flowy course on the legendary JEM Trail. So when a crew from the Tetons decided to drive down I signed up for one of the back seats and settled in for the 9-hour drive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pre-riding the course with Cary on Friday blew my mind--he was a little crotchety about the lack of technical challenge, but I <i>loved</i> the speed of the JEM Trail. Pedal hard, don't touch the brakes, and hang on. Swooping, bobbing, pumping the rolls, airing off of the rare rock ledges, maintaining momentum...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Race day dawned clear and warm, with a light breeze.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs31eBPwWEuJna1jOe4mtojfYYZyb8l7vBcXj1WwePF7VgrUbyfEHa7Dxz1hpjRUw96Xh4ym_ThM5kiwXxkkbGQOB639RC5uBTV0OMTk25AqEVNcxsAkpjaYsAV4x6JHCcHFAqcjrZo8ck/s1600/FH6-14-SV-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs31eBPwWEuJna1jOe4mtojfYYZyb8l7vBcXj1WwePF7VgrUbyfEHa7Dxz1hpjRUw96Xh4ym_ThM5kiwXxkkbGQOB639RC5uBTV0OMTk25AqEVNcxsAkpjaYsAV4x6JHCcHFAqcjrZo8ck/s1600/FH6-14-SV-12.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here we go...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: <a href="http://crawlingspider.com/6-hours-in-frog-hollow-2014/" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>** Temporary soapbox moment:</i> What is up with these stupid "LeMans starts"? I assume there's some historical reason that races started with a mass of bikes on the ground and the racers lined up a hundred yards away, set to sprint off the start line, find their bikes, and try to get onto the course without breaking bike or body parts in the scrum. Sure, it might be part of 6-Hour/12-Hour/24-Hour circuit racing heritage, but I wish we could move past this archaic tradition and just race bikes. If I wanted to run somewhere I would go back to racing triathlon, but I don't--I want to ride my bike. It's the same reason I do my best to avoid cyclocross. Running in cycling shoes sucks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, soapbox finished.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Despite my best efforts to start harder and place myself in a good position early in the race, somehow it still seems to elude me. A forgotten last-minute change in bicycle placement led me to line up on the opposite side of the road from my bike's new location, which resulted in much confusion when I arrived at my bike's former location to find it empty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once I recovered myself I had to wait for the faster half of the pack to pass by before I could run across the road to my bike's new location and mount up. Then it was pedal, track stand, pedal again, track stand again while the racers who were now ahead of me mounted their bikes and initiated forward movement. Eventually we got rolling, but I watched in dismay as the lead pack crested the horizon and disappeared while I choked on dust, weaving my way through the masses to give chase.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I mashed hard to make up time, eventually catching Shannon Boffelli and Matt Woodruff a few miles into Lap 1 and rode with them until I blew a corner late in the lap. With the speed of this course, by the time I recovered myself and got back on-track they had opened up a hundred-yard gap and would maintain that for the rest of the lap.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZuQd0oXBbBqCEARNfovk2HoTkOA8HzuzU0nJ9CSoQITI4uVtSeTj8myGmgUeWqezu6OzTLc9jYTtxv3Ce4rpelBvp-y_k0kGvDWbJAULIzWkO1qgluQ0puUoLOmFPlRckpt6QhzyOuTd/s1600/FH6-14-SS-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZuQd0oXBbBqCEARNfovk2HoTkOA8HzuzU0nJ9CSoQITI4uVtSeTj8myGmgUeWqezu6OzTLc9jYTtxv3Ce4rpelBvp-y_k0kGvDWbJAULIzWkO1qgluQ0puUoLOmFPlRckpt6QhzyOuTd/s1600/FH6-14-SS-24.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">All by myself...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/6-hours-in-frog-hollow-2014/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I re-caught Matt somewhere in Lap 2 and traded leads with him for a long while. Matt and I are well-matched, and I've had a great time racing with him the last couple of years. (Thankfully he races on gears.) The pack had thinned-out considerably, so for the most part it was just the two of us pushing eachother to ride faster. And faster.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUPATpkPPq1POUp8j0vby0IHGt6rwJ6cnzmayXfkBlBe4o13uqu_jXkv4IGqjsydu9K8cY1akWaxHYXY8lyela6Vw6Aqc88AJ8LcEMRftOIoEptCf8s2OfyxjaKLHmI2HKroUXm-Na_e0m/s1600/FH6-14-SS-56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUPATpkPPq1POUp8j0vby0IHGt6rwJ6cnzmayXfkBlBe4o13uqu_jXkv4IGqjsydu9K8cY1akWaxHYXY8lyela6Vw6Aqc88AJ8LcEMRftOIoEptCf8s2OfyxjaKLHmI2HKroUXm-Na_e0m/s1600/FH6-14-SS-56.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Here we go, Matt!" Cranking it out...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/6-hours-in-frog-hollow-2014/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After the first couple of laps I finally started feeling warmed-up and smoother, able to stay on the gas. Inexplicably, this was also when my adductors started protesting against the effort and the deliberations began. "What's your problem? You can cramp all you want, but we're not stopping so you might as well just get with the program." They would continue to cramp on and off for the remainder of the race, but as long as I just kept pedaling...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">At the end of Lap 4 Matt stopped at the pit for something and I was alone for the rest of the race. I felt pretty good overall, staying hard on the gas and maintaining close to a 15mph average speed. (Pretty good for a singlespeed!) I passed a couple of solo geared racers toward the end of Lap 5, and started wondering if I might be in the lead overall. These circuit races are bizarre for maintaining a sense of placement in the field as racers pass eachother back and forth, and between my blown start and not having Erica there to feed me info about my position I really had no idea of who might be ahead of me.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TOQiB4MOdOS0A3Ec5v67C3bEr6raLMb6gw7v49xRAwzs7JhZsSv01bi-cioG_U3_8i15bRApFexDWiSrtXp-OYGgGvm3UCLV1I6a0L8WDURzoCYgq423e65chyphenhyphen9q5NzK3AlGSV3mhALy/s1600/FH6-14-SS-48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TOQiB4MOdOS0A3Ec5v67C3bEr6raLMb6gw7v49xRAwzs7JhZsSv01bi-cioG_U3_8i15bRApFexDWiSrtXp-OYGgGvm3UCLV1I6a0L8WDURzoCYgq423e65chyphenhyphen9q5NzK3AlGSV3mhALy/s1600/FH6-14-SS-48.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rolling through one of the few rocks on this fast course. I <i>love</i> the <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bikes/detail/12" target="_blank">LESter</a>!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/6-hours-in-frog-hollow-2014/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Not that it really mattered--all I could do was focus forward and ride the best race that I had in me. It was a blast right up to the end, and it wasn't until an hour later that I found out I had finished second to a geared rider who I never even saw. Matt rallied in a few minutes after me, taking the official second-place men's solo spot. He's riding really strong this year--it should be a fun season of racing!</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbQFbIWPT-lDviL2Nim8pVYGMNCzjWwvpzbjEkKoD5l4-DkNzZJPvcd5QQnMbWoSll1CeZm5M42KLToe7wrXGmWpx5F2gy-Df1fktJz6aGb7nMSuRuCyYnbFlrDP8vQM0VmCg3xihyGgvR/s1600/IMG_7347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbQFbIWPT-lDviL2Nim8pVYGMNCzjWwvpzbjEkKoD5l4-DkNzZJPvcd5QQnMbWoSll1CeZm5M42KLToe7wrXGmWpx5F2gy-Df1fktJz6aGb7nMSuRuCyYnbFlrDP8vQM0VmCg3xihyGgvR/s1600/IMG_7347.jpg" height="230" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Kim Beres</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">The rest of the Teton crew put in a strong showing as well: Amanda Carey and Cary Smith won the Coed Duo division, Brooke Saindon and Beth Ward were both on the Solo Women 50-59 podium, and Joanne LaBelle barely missed the overall Solo Women's podium. Sick!</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvlc1K9HcIPx5q97c9qMIKU94sQKKMCAbp3RSrjcNOL_hkj3dJczB3cskkuqvQRDRFsM_PfCk-TQ9rC4fLacbtOjZcXQu2cCeX0LWblXWRm9nQTIEXD9oAahPMUWSTllvSb5neZ0-B8Ia/s1600/20140419_164753_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvlc1K9HcIPx5q97c9qMIKU94sQKKMCAbp3RSrjcNOL_hkj3dJczB3cskkuqvQRDRFsM_PfCk-TQ9rC4fLacbtOjZcXQu2cCeX0LWblXWRm9nQTIEXD9oAahPMUWSTllvSb5neZ0-B8Ia/s1600/20140419_164753_resized.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Solo Women's 50-59 podium.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Joanne LaBelle</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXw1o2S9-8zWi6ffaYU-UJUrgOlxxVEQBlKPOYKJ8_MQMKHSNbfdMUtnLhby4exNCaxFlGRUQHw9ihQmFHpfUQTwl0uC8cAZjqItM3F4aXw9OmmHNPrkRJ7zOfgi-I6OSJZ2RgwA6pRpti/s1600/20140419_170147_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXw1o2S9-8zWi6ffaYU-UJUrgOlxxVEQBlKPOYKJ8_MQMKHSNbfdMUtnLhby4exNCaxFlGRUQHw9ihQmFHpfUQTwl0uC8cAZjqItM3F4aXw9OmmHNPrkRJ7zOfgi-I6OSJZ2RgwA6pRpti/s1600/20140419_170147_resized.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Coed Duo podium, with Cary and Amanda on top, Shannon Boffelli and Jen Hanks 2nd, and Chris and KC Holley 3rd.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Joanne LaBelle</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ahh, desert riding. I'm stoked to have felt as strong as I did; now I'm just bummed that I have to wait a month before I get to race again! This singlespeeding thing is addicting.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: </span><a href="http://crawlingspider.com/6-hours-in-frog-hollow-2014/" style="font-size: small;" target="_blank">Crawling Spider Photography</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now if only the skies would dry up around the Tetons...</span><br />
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AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-76111390283953388982014-04-06T09:56:00.001-07:002015-08-31T21:47:24.310-07:00Getting Wisterical<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our plan was to skin into the South Fork of Avalanche Canyon and check out this pair of couloirs on </span><span style="font-size: large;">the North Face of Buck Mountain--the Bubblefun and Newc.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7hqZJXUu-68yNwlMyRWjy6xZKzZBeiAZu4GBR8R7vMRNwqX-eSLfnbJMFoP4Jcf7P2BFHHGwBnAD-ZemroE-ezqnW216Dn0NJ5ggIaQcTyOh7Ie4fRM8ec4zXNF24FBsLLahLEuiAcsXP/s1600/Buck+Mountain+behind+Mt.+Wister.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7hqZJXUu-68yNwlMyRWjy6xZKzZBeiAZu4GBR8R7vMRNwqX-eSLfnbJMFoP4Jcf7P2BFHHGwBnAD-ZemroE-ezqnW216Dn0NJ5ggIaQcTyOh7Ie4fRM8ec4zXNF24FBsLLahLEuiAcsXP/s1600/Buck+Mountain+behind+Mt.+Wister.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The North Face of Buck, with the Bubblefun Couloir on the left and the Newc on the right. The summit of Mt. Wister is in the foreground.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The idea came up years ago in a conversation with Z--climb the Newc to the notch, scramble to the summit, and ski the Bubblefun. Then, if conditions are good and we still have legs left, use the bootpack that we broke in the Newc to re-climb and ski that as well. </span><span style="font-size: large;">With schedules being what they are, Z and I rarely get to ski together these days, but Parker and Paul were up for the adventure so sunrise found us below the Wanda Pinnacle making the final climb up into the South Fork.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo: Josh Parker</i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghoGKQbprhXdX8qfOZiMoJt8WDPy1stK6hbvPucBHeaazxrYPEkcAYHmTDQDVpexiVIDENlh7XBpfmecmCEvcfo4iTNovAoPMfbw0MA9Xw6RAHFp6HixiXvveZeiRT7Kwdn_DkYYBkLR5x/s1600/IMG_7053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghoGKQbprhXdX8qfOZiMoJt8WDPy1stK6hbvPucBHeaazxrYPEkcAYHmTDQDVpexiVIDENlh7XBpfmecmCEvcfo4iTNovAoPMfbw0MA9Xw6RAHFp6HixiXvveZeiRT7Kwdn_DkYYBkLR5x/s1600/IMG_7053.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The weather forecast for the day was for snow showers after noon and light winds--not a perfect bluebird day, but seemingly manageable. </span>As it turned out, the clouds and snowfall blew in earlier than forecasted, so as we broke trail up the sluff cone at the base of the Newc and then booted up some of the steepest snow climbing I've ever been on we watched the upper mountain disappear into a progressively thicker cloud.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>Photo: Josh Parker<br /></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We made it up a little over 1000' from the canyon floor, watching small sluffs coming down periodically. It seemed that despite the lack of wind and snowfall at our elevation there must be more storming up high, blowing through the notch and loading the upper couloir.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDQmGIfEVv1JTsSXY5bWuNcpQi4Hr_o5beFp2Rfw46iy_OMuyJmqcNXc8H2KMF6b-WVP9_iEbNBNwuQBCY6XosK1Bb9apcmd-p5pkPT8c5WN2X05AX2xIvcqQAXeJhzpWj0HlFvg8rENS/s1600/IMG_7054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDQmGIfEVv1JTsSXY5bWuNcpQi4Hr_o5beFp2Rfw46iy_OMuyJmqcNXc8H2KMF6b-WVP9_iEbNBNwuQBCY6XosK1Bb9apcmd-p5pkPT8c5WN2X05AX2xIvcqQAXeJhzpWj0HlFvg8rENS/s1600/IMG_7054.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then small sluffs progressively turned into bigger sluffs as we approached the narrows of the couloir, with easily enough volume to knock us over if we moved into their path. It was a clear choice, though not an easy decision, to bail off of Buck rather than climbing into the barrel of the gun.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>Photo: Josh Parker<br /></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1000' of steep powder turns was awfully fun, but then what?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looking directly across the canyon, Wister came in and out of the clouds, presenting us with a lovely alternative. I've been staring at the East Face for years, and Paul and I even gave it a shot a few weeks ago, bailing in gail-force winds. But this day, with little wind and light snowfall, seemed like a prime opportunity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We would be climbing a south-facing couloir that had baked in the sun for a couple of days prior to the base of the East Face. With Mt. Wister being 1000' shorter than Buck, and well-protected in the middle of Avalanche Canyon, it wasn't receiving the wind that was hitting the higher summits. And with fresh powder falling from the heavens? Mmmmmm...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Climbing the couloir was quick and relatively easy, with firm snow for kicking steps. We even saw occasional sunshine as the clouds flowed past.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>Photo: Josh Parker<br /></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then the short stretch of ridge over to the base of the East Face turned squirrelly for a little while. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Not particularly hard climbing, but a bit of exposure off of both sides made it ugly climbing for me, at least.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The East Face of Mt. Wister from Shadow Peak. It seemed improbably to ski the upper section the year that I took this photo!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the East Face was gorgeous. Having looked at this thing for years, I've become pretty familiar with how the snow fills-in through the rocks, but this year there isn't really any "through the rocks". Our snowpack is so deep that it's pretty much just snow, with a few rocks here and there for spice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And beautifully steep.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Making some tentative initial turns off the summit, with a few thousand feet of relief below.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><a href="http://www.voile.com/" style="font-size: medium;" target="_blank">Voilé</a><span style="font-size: small;"> is making a new ski they're calling the </span><a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-skis/voile-v6-skis-2014-2015.html" style="font-size: medium;" target="_blank">V6</a><span style="font-size: small;">, with the dreamy shape and flex of the </span><a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-skis/voile-v8-skis-2013-2014.html" style="font-size: medium;" target="_blank">V8</a><span style="font-size: small;"> in a narrower, lighter package. (102mm waist) My new fave for ski mountaineering adventures, they were the cat's meow for this day's variable conditions.</span><br /><i style="font-size: 13px;">Photo: Josh Parker</i><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Paul gets rowdy down the summit snowfield.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Parker makes it look easy.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yup, this thing's steep!</span><br /><i>Photo: Paul Rachele</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Catching our breath at the base of the East Face.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">And looking down at 2000'+ of north-facing powder to Avalanche Canyon below.</span><br /><i>Photo: Josh Parker</i><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">From the base of the East Face, the route naturally banks to the north as it flows down to Avalanche Canyon below. Being north-facing and relatively sheltered from the wind it often holds really high-quality snow, and we were delighted to find knee-deep, silky powder. We left the hop-turns (chop-turns?) behind and were able to fully open it up, letting our skis eat up the vertical drop in big, GS turns to the canyon below.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Let the powder turns begin...</span><br /><i style="font-size: 13px;">Photo: Josh Parker</i><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Parker goes deep, with the full route to the summit in sight above.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was sort of unbelievable, really. We set out for a ski mountaineering adventure with little expectation of finding good snow, discovered avalanche conditions that we didn't like and forced us to change our day's objective, and ended up with steep, rowdy skiing up high on Wister and a long, steep powder run down the canyon bottom.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Wow--did we really just ski that?</span><br /><i style="font-size: 13px;">Photo: Josh Parker</i><br /></td></tr>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><span style="font-size: large;">It did feel a little silly to have carried ropes and gear (that we were planning on using in the Bubblefun) all that way, but ultimately the consolation prize turned out to be pretty sweet.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My boot's-eye view back across Taggart Lake. Still looks wintry up there!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We arrived back at Taggart Lake and returned to springtime, complete with insects gamboling about on the snow and birds chirping in the trees. Winter still has the high country firmly in its grasp, but the lowlands are quickly changing seasons. I have to admit that while the ski mountaineering is still pretty fun up high it feels really good to feel warm, sunny days returning to the Tetons.</span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-46524912139917492462014-03-23T15:10:00.000-07:002015-08-31T21:47:24.268-07:00Welcome To The Buck Parade<span style="font-size: large;">So a funny thing happened to me the other day--my friend Ben (whom I hadn't heard from in a couple of years) left me a voicemail that Jeremy Jones was in town and looking for a partner to go riding in the Tetons. A couple of hours and a returned phone call later Jeremy was inviting me to join him and 3 other splitboarders to go up Buck Mountain, maybe riding the East Face, maybe the Buckshot Couloir. How could I pass on an opportunity to get rowdy in the alpine with a group of splitters? (It doesn't happen every day...)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Despite having just arrived home for the weekend from a work trip to Lander, Erica gave me the thumbs-up to go for it, so there I was in the Loaf n' Jug parking lot in Jackson yesterday at 5:30am meeting Jeremy, Frank, and Jimmy (two young freestylers from California who are getting all fired-up about splitboarding.) We picked up one more out by the airport--Nick, an editor/filmer for Teton Gravity Research, who carried a large camera backpack through the whole thing and still managed to rip.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It took us a bit to get everything sorted out at the trailhead, but we were skinning at dawn and watched alpenglow on Albright and Static Peaks turn to a gorgeous sunrise as we passed through the meadow at the bottom of Wimpy's and traversed into Stewart's Draw.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Working our way up Stewart's just after sunrise. A firm suncrust made for pretty quick travel.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Having "broken trail" all the way up Stewart's Draw to Timberline Lake we were surprised to see 5 skiers ahead of us on the upper East Ridge of Buck, with 2 more coming up behind us. It was actually pretty nice to have a bootpack broken up the ridge, but having so many other people on the mountain killed Jeremy's plan to have TGR fly in and film the whole thing. Not wanting to bum out everybody else climbing Buck he called off the helicopter and we changed our focus to just having a fun day of climbing and riding.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Booting up to the East Ridge from the Timberline Lake basin...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...And working our way up toward the top of the Buckshot.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />As we climbed we remained hopeful about getting fresh tracks in the Buckshot Couloir, until we watched as the party of 5 in front of us skied the upper East Face and then traversed right into the Buckshot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hmm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Earlier, looking up at Buck from the lake, I was struck by just how deep our snowpack is this year, and how well filled-in the East Face is. There's a 600' cliff across the East Face about halfway down, so the traditional ski route descends fall-line from the summit and then makes a <u>long</u> traverse to end-run the cliff, but there's so much snow up there </span><span style="font-size: large;">this year</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">that I saw a clean line filled in through the cliff that might allow for a fall-line descent from the summit to the basin below. I had never seen it before, and am honestly wondering if Buck has ever seen a fall-line descent down the complete East Face.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZqaBflFi7gspH9PhkzGASpPOEu5fcwqqBoVBaKC4oYLaLPdzRVBOWfT2i5EG5HQidnkRrjax8zXLLPKdfY2WLGgHlZ1r2AiKPtUYKbLJNEvYApsgkIDDcHhqbdq9gQX8-hR73V7-bAJ1/s1600/IMG_6840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZqaBflFi7gspH9PhkzGASpPOEu5fcwqqBoVBaKC4oYLaLPdzRVBOWfT2i5EG5HQidnkRrjax8zXLLPKdfY2WLGgHlZ1r2AiKPtUYKbLJNEvYApsgkIDDcHhqbdq9gQX8-hR73V7-bAJ1/s1600/IMG_6840.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The East Face of Buck, with the traditional descent route in purple, and the fall-line route in orange.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So we re-adjusted our focus again, and with hopes of a sporting adventure into the unknown on the East Face we continued our progress up the bootpack.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghr-Ga2axGOXmHx3wX9nCprKrfzH2q8QB_KTQ6R9gGpSeesA1tmWHpvXQKReUASVr0MslYhPNp0PAudDjvAT3CvGh6UMOYbCICKXT4YUDxar7_qfrHU1N8ARNIs9Ajgk1Ah2tdWaf8ruQj/s1600/IMG_6628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghr-Ga2axGOXmHx3wX9nCprKrfzH2q8QB_KTQ6R9gGpSeesA1tmWHpvXQKReUASVr0MslYhPNp0PAudDjvAT3CvGh6UMOYbCICKXT4YUDxar7_qfrHU1N8ARNIs9Ajgk1Ah2tdWaf8ruQj/s1600/IMG_6628.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Damn, that ridge is airy!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWBH9xIndAAVgxRsoZDibeTcaQiMx3ZWmN3zReTHILe5kyq1L8wcsT2iP17RYmU349RZhbBpqqvWpz32akt5qf_nTWd8w-Obf_wHwNvNPP2hOlvA_HTRJBw2K72j8jx0l54IvLqghotwo/s1600/IMG_6633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWBH9xIndAAVgxRsoZDibeTcaQiMx3ZWmN3zReTHILe5kyq1L8wcsT2iP17RYmU349RZhbBpqqvWpz32akt5qf_nTWd8w-Obf_wHwNvNPP2hOlvA_HTRJBw2K72j8jx0l54IvLqghotwo/s1600/IMG_6633.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">All grins, Jeremy loving life above 11,000'.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvFdPyviDHw-dQsCruEXDxMYhzpSWLFgGlebQLJmq7MfqSeEn6WmUuGIF2m2Jkgvrg85mwYhhITIXBY1_iHV40clrLA8FrX1hiHJuqge3J5MO6jOVhjQu0kvgl2TjgytZhDFz4TYWYaA9/s1600/IMG_6636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvFdPyviDHw-dQsCruEXDxMYhzpSWLFgGlebQLJmq7MfqSeEn6WmUuGIF2m2Jkgvrg85mwYhhITIXBY1_iHV40clrLA8FrX1hiHJuqge3J5MO6jOVhjQu0kvgl2TjgytZhDFz4TYWYaA9/s1600/IMG_6636.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">How cool to be up in this terrain with 4 other splitters?! Approaching the final summit ridge, with 2000' of vertical drop down to Avalanche Canyon on the left.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The 2 skiers behind us caught up and passed on by midway up the ridge, and it turned out that I had met one of them at an avalanche awareness talk I gave in Idaho Falls last December--small world. We saw another pair lower on the ridge when we looked back down, then another, then another about to climb up from the lake--this sunny Saturday was bringing out the full parade of alpine enthusiasts!</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0NxXZLt5FsNljR42EAMTFsAxXf2jQe93tzOUyO30Mggew3ebFygiS5JFNwBwr-BflePYsAYFuu-q4LpB4C4eDzKnSjNqmT_nHM6pWzANpdH8aqBqoOlsbwOe1DV_6UF_vk8WVO0_K2iww/s1600/AJ+and+Friends+Buck+Mtn.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0NxXZLt5FsNljR42EAMTFsAxXf2jQe93tzOUyO30Mggew3ebFygiS5JFNwBwr-BflePYsAYFuu-q4LpB4C4eDzKnSjNqmT_nHM6pWzANpdH8aqBqoOlsbwOe1DV_6UF_vk8WVO0_K2iww/s1600/AJ+and+Friends+Buck+Mtn.JPG" height="440" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Leading out up the ridge.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Evan Honeyfield</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfRjcgkzUzzEm6_kgvgdSPYiNzLmit_D3vY3vBjfxhZMpvQZRMRlYUQSKHd0ib5SZhWy_nvL_4R_-Q0BNVQzpgKek37xeYpkEN-KIpwnWK3N4QeyiI43rGNCno5f6YtdTZrJGllFIqsV-/s1600/AJ+and+Friends+Buck+Mtn2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfRjcgkzUzzEm6_kgvgdSPYiNzLmit_D3vY3vBjfxhZMpvQZRMRlYUQSKHd0ib5SZhWy_nvL_4R_-Q0BNVQzpgKek37xeYpkEN-KIpwnWK3N4QeyiI43rGNCno5f6YtdTZrJGllFIqsV-/s1600/AJ+and+Friends+Buck+Mtn2.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Evan Honeyfield</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We relaxed on the summit in still, sunny weather for a half-hour, taking photos and eating some lunch before rigging up and strapping in for the descent. A few test turns showed the snow on the East Face to be fairly wind-hammered, but remarkably good chalky edging on a snowboard.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRi7O0XMYdQjfftbnHuOnn09m6Ue9wV6Pamkaw8oUoh365_6jDceDSRMESpanj9jlL9_L6l90huIZ7TDHvViWjZJshnfxAlD1_IsocYWB2pAAJYMRVAy9AbvepV86rGaEky-vVT0QMGiXt/s1600/IMG_6640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRi7O0XMYdQjfftbnHuOnn09m6Ue9wV6Pamkaw8oUoh365_6jDceDSRMESpanj9jlL9_L6l90huIZ7TDHvViWjZJshnfxAlD1_IsocYWB2pAAJYMRVAy9AbvepV86rGaEky-vVT0QMGiXt/s1600/IMG_6640.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking down our route after making a few test turns. I would typically like something bigger and stiffer to ride in this terrain, but the <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-splitboards/voile-artisan-splitboard-2013-2014.html" target="_blank">Voilé Artisan</a> handled it just fine. Despite my being a longtime advocate of solid boards and approach skis, I am consistently impressed with the performance of <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-splitboards.html" target="_blank">Voilé's</a> splits.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I dropped in first, starting with slow tight turns and then letting it run as I gained confidence in the snow conditions. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFg-yt0C70g1bHRPA3TgAqUN0eow2TKevVLTYEzDo_H5-VhVCgo5KjZgc0m1LVguBmUwi-dF_-G9Ma6ozDSfYDLT7ofh3LrbqCGSbSfdZuqN4lcYsJostqPaVeJUB5u-lG-JaO6htVEMe/s1600/IMG_6655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFg-yt0C70g1bHRPA3TgAqUN0eow2TKevVLTYEzDo_H5-VhVCgo5KjZgc0m1LVguBmUwi-dF_-G9Ma6ozDSfYDLT7ofh3LrbqCGSbSfdZuqN4lcYsJostqPaVeJUB5u-lG-JaO6htVEMe/s1600/IMG_6655.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Frank comes in for a landing.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEND1goIyE0Wjhluy2RfWQYspAGITxH-S7TTEQhsUzIVDuEoHkSxdWNfD9HX7Nt1gm5I_-fGy1E3_UZZa9tmMFkM4v5VmMp5QUbamlVxSFfqHNSl5uMOifX2xO1xrc66amSCnsQLjIQTY/s1600/IMG_6679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEND1goIyE0Wjhluy2RfWQYspAGITxH-S7TTEQhsUzIVDuEoHkSxdWNfD9HX7Nt1gm5I_-fGy1E3_UZZa9tmMFkM4v5VmMp5QUbamlVxSFfqHNSl5uMOifX2xO1xrc66amSCnsQLjIQTY/s1600/IMG_6679.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jeremy lives it up in the chalky conditions on the upper face.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Peeling out onto a small ridgelet, I watched as the rest of the crew ripped turns one at a time down to join me, and we continued more or less together until we reached the cliffband and our new test route. Jimmy rode first, going out of sight for about 30 seconds before we saw him railing it out into the basin below. Sick.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMEoiF6Yt_-ZtumG-y6c_l2F3M2ywJudzAiqJkB8Lccu-NpekzWuTJI0sqnoJxmEFZE9S6ETvlaK53LePnz_MFtuud3QbYSQblmLfYC9ncZFBraxHSGRUYEgT71C1AjJ0egzl6XiSjw4yT/s1600/IMG_6820.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMEoiF6Yt_-ZtumG-y6c_l2F3M2ywJudzAiqJkB8Lccu-NpekzWuTJI0sqnoJxmEFZE9S6ETvlaK53LePnz_MFtuud3QbYSQblmLfYC9ncZFBraxHSGRUYEgT71C1AjJ0egzl6XiSjw4yT/s1600/IMG_6820.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jeremy drops into our sneaker route through the cliffs on Buck's East Face.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I went last, carving controlled turns through the rocks, ecstatic to be riding with confidence on solid snow as I threaded the line through what I had always thought to be an impassable cliff. What a high.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">High-fives all around when I joined the rest of the crew, and we whooped it up as we traversed above the lake, heading out to a few thousand feet more fun riding down into Stewart's Draw and the lowlands below.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgy4AkrJcS89bkAkjxM2s_NBSWgFa1Xm39YQZAhdPK2RWVH7pzA4zByVoEPrCgB41yS-58wQOfJ0zYFemGt23t_u-RPnRhUH-ISHSjqkRIFkwK3EsI4PaQ6B_cAeE_Ih28_04A1Qkl6FQ/s1600/IMG_6842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgy4AkrJcS89bkAkjxM2s_NBSWgFa1Xm39YQZAhdPK2RWVH7pzA4zByVoEPrCgB41yS-58wQOfJ0zYFemGt23t_u-RPnRhUH-ISHSjqkRIFkwK3EsI4PaQ6B_cAeE_Ih28_04A1Qkl6FQ/s1600/IMG_6842.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking back up at the proud line we just rode.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2013/01/happy-bucking-new-year.html" target="_blank">Having ridden out from here with Z last year</a>, I knew that if we worked our way out the ridge that splits Stewart and Static Draws we would find a pair of lovely north-facing couloirs that were likely to be holding great powder. What I didn't anticipate was that this season's snow depth had buried the rocks that form the couloirs, so when we arrived we were looking down wide, powder-laden chutes to the Draw below. Perfect for wide-open, mach speed riding.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ssPJlNx9tALofVWzEdRdiyxHWGyLWcRrRtShLlmJppNdqyJKwn8RN1GOxgCAHVTOfXG7nXhXVHG6ii7ipRNK75cnFRw4VLmuTbu6XLWqBoe94nM2iTc1haQ5eBhttnNp4EB4d7uEKYoH/s1600/IMG_6876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ssPJlNx9tALofVWzEdRdiyxHWGyLWcRrRtShLlmJppNdqyJKwn8RN1GOxgCAHVTOfXG7nXhXVHG6ii7ipRNK75cnFRw4VLmuTbu6XLWqBoe94nM2iTc1haQ5eBhttnNp4EB4d7uEKYoH/s1600/IMG_6876.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">So good.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And then we were done. Conditions allowed us to ride all the way out to the parking lot, where cold chocolate milk (for me) and beers (for everybody else) were waiting for us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Damn, what a day. Getting up high in big terrain with a fun crew under bluebird skies?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Priceless.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Crazy how it all came about, but it was awesome being in the mountains with this group of splitboarders--I'm stoked to have made some new friends, and to have found a bunch of new, motivated partners for alpine adventures.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">__________</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In case you're wondering about the title reference:</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/kDWgsQhbaqU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-19295957561809830362014-03-20T17:33:00.000-07:002015-08-31T21:47:24.241-07:00True Grit In True Wind<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Stats:</i></span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>84 Miles</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>12,000' of elevation gain</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>2nd-Place Singlespeed, 8th Overall</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><i>7:14:14 to the finish.</i></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's 18 minutes faster than last year, and I wasn't nearly as crushed at the end as I felt in 2013. The course was changed this year, a couple of miles shorter but apparently with 2000' more climbing according to Mr. Garmin.(?) Regardless, I felt faster this year, and enjoyed the race way more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was pretty keyed-up in the days leading up to this year's <a href="http://truegritepic.com/" target="_blank">True Grit Epic</a>. We're buried under snow here in Victor, and the ski guiding season has been full enough that I was concerned about being rested going into the race. With big guiding outings on 4 out of 7 days prior to race day, lack of rest seemed a legitimate concern. But that's how the cookie was crumbling--all I could do was try and get good nights' sleeps and eat well. At least I wouldn't be sluggish from lack of activity.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUQXMpEYew2QIZbov0CVFBps2OXKwaP7hA_X-opc2pLhARw9QTD7rnTP6gvqDWBAK6-kA6MIH44zv4Kzn4eyjMcHgyPJejNZHgmqs7gVaaR56OZWmKRBpjQtPhM3TmKFoXHyNBDh8CI7p/s1600/IMG_5561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUQXMpEYew2QIZbov0CVFBps2OXKwaP7hA_X-opc2pLhARw9QTD7rnTP6gvqDWBAK6-kA6MIH44zv4Kzn4eyjMcHgyPJejNZHgmqs7gVaaR56OZWmKRBpjQtPhM3TmKFoXHyNBDh8CI7p/s1600/IMG_5561.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And it felt really good to drive away from 6-foot snowbanks with my front bumper aimed towards southern Utah. Mom offered to accompany me to St. George and be my fill-in support crew, as Erica was off on a work trip, so I picked her up at the SLC airport on Thursday evening and we spent the trip's first night cooking up a massive pasta dinner with Mary and Nils before getting a deep night's rest and making early tracks out of town.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Arriving in St. George, the intensity of the sun was pretty intimidating! 70-degree temps felt great, but I could feel any exposed flesh crisping as I stood at the Zen trailhead contemplating an afternoon pre-ride on this legendary slickrock route. Ahh, sunscreen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was surprised (and pleased) at how comfortable I felt riding the technical, ledgy drops and climbs of Zen having not ridden dirt since October. It just felt fun to rally through sections that made me pause last year.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> Maybe visualization really does help?! Feeling confident after having fun riding Zen, we set up camp at Snow Canyon and put dinner on the campstove to cook while I made a few final adjustments to the <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bikes/detail/12" target="_blank">LES</a> and Mom went in search of the hot showers.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1mXk3gSHwBzmBJbGdCBQI1VmDNJjUJIHh_hyphenhyphen1fhJ7KXExPRbJSTrYnN28qtNTH1Iam7k8sQlz-n958AE01W5xhDebrxH2Q-K0znod-BhweDS6Is3mehpNMVrJYNmCUQkk0MwVmqiN9jK/s1600/IMG_5563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1mXk3gSHwBzmBJbGdCBQI1VmDNJjUJIHh_hyphenhyphen1fhJ7KXExPRbJSTrYnN28qtNTH1Iam7k8sQlz-n958AE01W5xhDebrxH2Q-K0znod-BhweDS6Is3mehpNMVrJYNmCUQkk0MwVmqiN9jK/s1600/IMG_5563.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">An 8am start time felt luxurious as I rolled out of bed after a full night's sleep--normally these long races start ridiculously early to make use of maximum daylight hours for everybody to finish the course, but after last year's pre-dawn True Grit start (including postponing for 30 minutes to get us closer to daylight) Race Director Cimarron decided to just plan a sunrise start this year. It did seem important to be able to see the rocky 2-track we would be riding for the first few miles.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Jxj3vFzWrGIuXU_NCd2gO32k034HPBJDfUGGDgGxW2yYC1_sNYiTBp_1y5mp6QW633io3SY-fyrRUAqA4lvXrGjXRQTvXPUZ1zv9oqu5JKbmiFzgMetRUEd-as2CmOBLCynTqeSzdNyP/s1600/IMG_5566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Jxj3vFzWrGIuXU_NCd2gO32k034HPBJDfUGGDgGxW2yYC1_sNYiTBp_1y5mp6QW633io3SY-fyrRUAqA4lvXrGjXRQTvXPUZ1zv9oqu5JKbmiFzgMetRUEd-as2CmOBLCynTqeSzdNyP/s1600/IMG_5566.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Men's Open division went off at 8, and then we had a 7-minute gap before the rest of the field would start this year. It was good to see a bunch of familiar faces at the start line--friends that I hadn't seen since last summer. <a href="http://pfunwithpflug.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Gerry</a>, <a href="http://ridinglifeschallenges.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Trevor</a>, <a href="http://ernestomarenchin.com/" target="_blank">Ernesto</a>, Cheryl... And, as expected, when we were given the go Gerry took off like a rocket. That guy loves to start hard! (I actually heard him tell a newspaper reporter afterwards that his advice is to start slow and build up to pace. What?!) This proved to be the start of my day's undoing.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhNE-FlwJE43E97bhtbOgdxjafGS-KlkEtrSVODxY3tBxJTirz2eVbOQ7l9rI7XLd7sHgIwZz1xo34VUIOmSIq3yeg1VZdvfe66LEw0OWj3Pz6bHfWKj6pw35lgmKSV-WDluFLXN60Tuh6/s1600/IMG_5624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhNE-FlwJE43E97bhtbOgdxjafGS-KlkEtrSVODxY3tBxJTirz2eVbOQ7l9rI7XLd7sHgIwZz1xo34VUIOmSIq3yeg1VZdvfe66LEw0OWj3Pz6bHfWKj6pw35lgmKSV-WDluFLXN60Tuh6/s1600/IMG_5624.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Gerry, wait up!" That's me in orange chasing Gerry with the red helmet. Brutal.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A full season of skiing, with some inside riding-on-rollers time mixed in, has been effective for building overall endurance, but I have no capacity for speed right now. I could feel myself launch right out of aerobic land and into the hurt of anaerobic hell as I gave chase after Gerry and his new full-suspension singlespeed steed.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjss0yZ8WD8lZfcUUUtagoKUkG5rzOCGrqA1jX5FvVBnLLDK5YXgY8zVkQWN1EIUQLyCBSWr3l1hoULuNcgMB__oJyL_-wpUON8G1zngIQqFTZhmX8UrPwLcmSyf-vhuw5G70MemLiTBkCA/s1600/IMG_5755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjss0yZ8WD8lZfcUUUtagoKUkG5rzOCGrqA1jX5FvVBnLLDK5YXgY8zVkQWN1EIUQLyCBSWr3l1hoULuNcgMB__oJyL_-wpUON8G1zngIQqFTZhmX8UrPwLcmSyf-vhuw5G70MemLiTBkCA/s1600/IMG_5755.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Coming into Feed Zone 1 for the first time, right on Gerry's squishy rear wheel.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYd8CXRDPgV25O_ZUudYpetGf78J8NdXD7Tu6g4zXaujV54nF_Z7HsxZtkeoNZMZ17Ls4HO_glegl0iA3gJK7iazhtUUXN5cueIbz_A3xxipOk8SKt9OeyMvfDf6JOjOTs6YfHPcD6e6rf/s1600/IMG_5823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYd8CXRDPgV25O_ZUudYpetGf78J8NdXD7Tu6g4zXaujV54nF_Z7HsxZtkeoNZMZ17Ls4HO_glegl0iA3gJK7iazhtUUXN5cueIbz_A3xxipOk8SKt9OeyMvfDf6JOjOTs6YfHPcD6e6rf/s1600/IMG_5823.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Returning from the Zen Trail.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We went back-and-forth a bit through the first 20 miles, and then he got a jump on me out of the Feed Zone after the Zen Trail and I spent the next 30 miles chasing a ghost--I'd see him for a bit, close the gap a bit, then he'd go out of view around a hill. The course took us down a romping descent for seemingly miles and miles of banked turns, rolling airs, and pumps with what I soon learned was a tailwind. Perhaps the most fun stretch of riding I've ever done in a race, ever? So fast, and so fluid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then we turned 180-degrees and started climbing into a stiff headwind that got stiffer as the day progressed. The forecast was for 5-7mph winds, but when I turned north the first time it felt more like 15 or 20, with a long uphill ahead. The kind of wind that made everybody take down their tents at the start/finish, and kept <a href="http://nuemtb.com/" target="_blank">NUE</a> Director Ryan O'Dell from setting up the Kenda finish-line arch. Bucking that headwind was one of my low points for the day, and the knowledge that I would have to do it again on Lap 2 started forming niggling doubts about finishing this damn race.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The climb ended after about 6 miles and we turned onto more interesting, fun riding again, but it had taken its toll. When we came out of Rim Runner and Barrel Roll I was maybe 200 yards back from Gerry and gaining ground. Steadily closing the gap helped boost my confidence and stoke me up to maintain a hard effort and get back up with him, and then we hit a steep climb and my legs went into full-cramp. I gritted my teeth, willing my legs to keep turning the cranks until the cramps passed (I could have gotten off, but that probably wouldn't have helped and my progress on the course would have ceased, and who knows if I could have gotten back on?) That was when I followed some perfect white chalk arrows in the dirt, right off of the race course.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was my own fault, dammit, but that doesn't make it any less painful. Cimarron was clear in her directions to follow the orange flagging tape. I knew I should be looking for orange flagging tape. But my legs were staging a revolution and the majority of my brain's capacity was engaged in trying to bring them back onto the team and those perfect arrows pointing uphill to the right seemed like such clear direction to a brain seeking clarity, and so I turned right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And that made all the difference. It took a couple of minutes for my legs to agree not to secede from the effort and for my brain to recognize that the last flagging tape was back at that junction and that I had to turn back down the hill I was currently climbing. When I arrived back at the white arrows it was not at all surprising to see many pieces of orange flagging tape going left instead of right, back toward Feed Zone One. I had only lost a few minutes, but Gerry was gone, baby, gone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I spent the rest of the race (the second half) riding hard, willing myself to get Gerry back into sight again, but it wasn't to be. Re-passing guys that I had passed miles earlier in the race was somewhat defeating. On the flip side, my legs pretty much ceased cramping and I was able to mostly enjoy riding the second lap. Eventually I managed to catch my friend Matt Woodruff during the second trip up the Windy Climb and managed to croak out, "Maaaatt. F*!k this wiiind." He just muttered, "I don't know how much more of this I can take."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And just like that it started blowing harder.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Riding Barrel Roll for the last time (probably my favorite stretch of trail on the course) I was struck by the added challenge of fighting to keep from being blown sideways off the trail into the copious cacti out there. Everything was rolling fine and then the wind would shift me a few feet to the right--scary. I managed to totally blow it on the two most technical moves of that loop--pulling a nut-crusher on a drop, followed by a blown line on the punchy climb 100 yards later. More lost time, with temporary discomfort-down-under.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then at the final Feed Zone, Alex Phipps (who had wisely decided that one lap in that wind was more than enough, and was mucho helpful with feeding me water bottles and information) cheered me up with the observation that I just wasn't going to catch Gerry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grrr.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, with that bit of information I was able to focus on finishing the race and having some fun with cranking a fast tailwind-aided pace. The closing few miles were kind of a blur of pain and dehydration last year, so I was unprepared for what a blast it was romping through the washes and then rollicking over the rocks of the two-track to the finish. I might not have been winning, but I was enjoying it anyway.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1NoAeCiyLpsG700Vb3RQzwA9nwDKqvH3p8kB-ystb5iTPw0Wn8LIHZwRQhDc71a2TyUlFL_CRzPYY-tyTbC1w0hDmBcqQs1SkuHdofCcnqlg0ooi863ghboc3Wb7dFWjCgT3jX1oY31w/s1600/IMG_6082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1NoAeCiyLpsG700Vb3RQzwA9nwDKqvH3p8kB-ystb5iTPw0Wn8LIHZwRQhDc71a2TyUlFL_CRzPYY-tyTbC1w0hDmBcqQs1SkuHdofCcnqlg0ooi863ghboc3Wb7dFWjCgT3jX1oY31w/s1600/IMG_6082.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the end I crossed the line 6 minutes behind Gerry, a bigger gap than last year's minute-and-a-half but without the sensation of being thoroughly crushed. I was even able to smile a bit.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aE5f70d4w7a0rh708UA5XBKwUN2coMGdHm5GTwAzVw1c4rNYDiTigkoHQQ1IYU4iMTEuxjSXwZdlKBB-qquMUjFXYc9RkmufWdABQlyAuZObGtfB45Q76n8RF1_W7MAdiaHg_RqmmUoj/s1600/IMG_6039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aE5f70d4w7a0rh708UA5XBKwUN2coMGdHm5GTwAzVw1c4rNYDiTigkoHQQ1IYU4iMTEuxjSXwZdlKBB-qquMUjFXYc9RkmufWdABQlyAuZObGtfB45Q76n8RF1_W7MAdiaHg_RqmmUoj/s1600/IMG_6039.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"How about that wind?"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Despite feeling better at the finish this year, I don't think I could have ridden any harder. So what learning can I take away? I'm able to maintain a good endurance base through the winter, but mid-March is early for me to have any kind of speed in my legs. Planning in a few more days' rest leading up to the race would probably have been good, although I didn't feel fatigued so maybe it wouldn't have really made a difference. My <a href="https://guenergy.com/roctane-energy-drink" target="_blank">Roctane</a> hydration/nutrition plan continues to work for me; I know most people feel the need to eat solid food, but I find that I can't stomach anything while I'm racing so liquid calories are what works for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And I am still seeking a balance of starting the race slow enough to allow my body to warm into it while going hard enough to stay competitive.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHll4uflP3yh0MjWcitmOdipmXZFI6gSJ83yfIdzP5wRtkzNZVtkx-m_DBl4Hp2eTocggeg2serIVXj3bnzYWNv3gGapmMhMKv5OP_wP-9Pp4EKEh_GJ-jT47qIm9y7Jx72yxIrvzfH7M/s1600/IMG_6086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHll4uflP3yh0MjWcitmOdipmXZFI6gSJ83yfIdzP5wRtkzNZVtkx-m_DBl4Hp2eTocggeg2serIVXj3bnzYWNv3gGapmMhMKv5OP_wP-9Pp4EKEh_GJ-jT47qIm9y7Jx72yxIrvzfH7M/s1600/IMG_6086.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Though I had hoped to take the top spot, second-place singlespeed and top-ten overall make me optimistic about my season to come, and stoked to get back out on the race course soon. Next up: the <a href="http://6hoursinfroghollow.com/" target="_blank">6 Hours In Frog Hollow</a>. Look out, Gem Trail!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.axlpath.com/aj-linnell/gearlist/true-grit-100.html" target="_blank">True Grit Epic Gearlist on AXLPATH</a></i></span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-82143046564971755312014-03-04T06:55:00.000-08:002015-08-31T21:47:24.327-07:00In For Round Two<span style="font-size: large;">I've been wanting to repeat the </span><a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2013/01/skiing-round-our-world.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">'Round Our World</span></a><span style="font-size: large;"> tour for a while now, hoping to complete it faster this year. Without getting lost. And with better skiing conditions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So with the Tetons in the middle of a multi-week storm cycle and a DEEP snowpack on the ground, when Scotty said he'd be interested in giving it a go what could I do but say yes?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But how to do it...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There's a big "light is right" push in the backcountry world these days, with fanatics logging 10,000'+ days on skinny little munchkin skis and faerie-slipper boots. Sure, that's probably pretty fun, but if I can cover 12,000' and 20 miles <i>and</i> have fun on the downhills on some girthier gear, why wouldn't I go for that option? With that in mind, I pulled my shit together and slapped skins on my new <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-splitboards/voile-artisan-splitboard-2013-2014.html" target="_blank">Artisan splitboard</a> from <a href="http://www.voile.com/" target="_blank">Voilé</a>. Take <i>that</i>, you aerobic mutant Dorais brothers!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know, I know--with my historical preference for approach skis and solid boards, it could strike one as an appalling about-face for me to start using a split. I might even be accused of "waffling", if I were running for president. But to be honest, my aging back is tiring of hauling a snowboard around, and the thought of having a touch more float and glide while skinning is pretty attractive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Having had the Artisan out for a single day of guiding prior to this adventure I still had some efficiencies to develop, but what a sweet ride! Sure, heavier than your honeycomb-balsa-wood-core-skinnies with aluminum edges, but damn this thing was a blast in the pow. And with the split skis being wider than my boot underfoot it's a trailbreaking machine.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc8KCtu0IMfq9CetpztUx9jQGfC7zu5AO-Cx3AHyffvCsQ6c68FGxZQcxttO7Ys24oEpZpra-PUVq8vmrvf5gr62EtpMbd52p6gysPxEnLw5xQkyg1Pbc1HJjzLDEp0RtWIkjnnFqkkQIX/s1600/IMG_2219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc8KCtu0IMfq9CetpztUx9jQGfC7zu5AO-Cx3AHyffvCsQ6c68FGxZQcxttO7Ys24oEpZpra-PUVq8vmrvf5gr62EtpMbd52p6gysPxEnLw5xQkyg1Pbc1HJjzLDEp0RtWIkjnnFqkkQIX/s1600/IMG_2219.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here we go!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61TyMqrvQckPnSRSnI-lef0KGWM9Cop2d2Y3X9MOJIqJf6Lw7mwxPvBPacQolxZu-1aJBAI7kXS1zaZJt417TBPWABXqNoJOv_pxXZ3WDz4sEAQxcWM6WE9Liwd5MZSBPsbGi_hppEH_9/s1600/IMG_2223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61TyMqrvQckPnSRSnI-lef0KGWM9Cop2d2Y3X9MOJIqJf6Lw7mwxPvBPacQolxZu-1aJBAI7kXS1zaZJt417TBPWABXqNoJOv_pxXZ3WDz4sEAQxcWM6WE9Liwd5MZSBPsbGi_hppEH_9/s1600/IMG_2223.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Loved the stillness of being the only people in Mail Cabin.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not that it felt easy breaking trail out there on Saturday. We were the first car in the parking lot, and got fresh tracks right from the start all the way to the top of Lone Pine. Ankle-deep soon turned to knee-deep and heavy, with temps just south of rain resulting in super wet snowfall.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8RUFQSnlmXdwKG73DyfHkBvU1gmp8y0asLY8QqiJ9Y-8HDnJjrpeqXXDeUloPioUL5wix37HZqHgkWAKZC3Zx4V-Drwnju99TP-DyQ844p4YzVuXQsY4UIuh504FiTbI6boxVQLY1wb7L/s1600/IMG_4030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8RUFQSnlmXdwKG73DyfHkBvU1gmp8y0asLY8QqiJ9Y-8HDnJjrpeqXXDeUloPioUL5wix37HZqHgkWAKZC3Zx4V-Drwnju99TP-DyQ844p4YzVuXQsY4UIuh504FiTbI6boxVQLY1wb7L/s1600/IMG_4030.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Welcome to the White Room? No, welcome to the Wet Room.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYq58xiu7dZqJ15GWbApDMfPPlCVmde-ia0vMCRKMqH0FmkiYjEtn6uLxRF4f95oUUqkDUPbtTHEnXcAk1ESAfL6HqXG79PiIlyPkqZhag28mJt40zitSlfuxbFziC-KafN797dRw5kCrH/s1600/IMG_4031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYq58xiu7dZqJ15GWbApDMfPPlCVmde-ia0vMCRKMqH0FmkiYjEtn6uLxRF4f95oUUqkDUPbtTHEnXcAk1ESAfL6HqXG79PiIlyPkqZhag28mJt40zitSlfuxbFziC-KafN797dRw5kCrH/s1600/IMG_4031.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That said, one of the benefits of breaking trail uphill is that it typically results in breaking trail downhill as well, and the turns off the back of Lone Pine were epic. Watching Scotty make wiggle-turns as I ripped past him I realized once again that</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I LOVE SNOWBOARDING. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Especially in waist-deep powder that I had to sweat to get.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We got Burbanked once again this year, wandering around through the nondescript woods of the Burbank Triangle for an hour or so until we finally found ourselves on the map and headed for Oliver Peak. Thankfully Scotty brought a compass.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEDsjASCEtkVlNG9CZ5rZSz8Qs_uEF5iKBPVs5Fb4OtFDgdhtpOsu41lS8JmMxefGWYGkqfDvhPrcbu0N-vOfrlA8hDbgd7LKDvjE6yPzpfX5G8q-BL-rrEDT778oFwym7fQ8YbFoHTBe/s1600/IMG_2230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEDsjASCEtkVlNG9CZ5rZSz8Qs_uEF5iKBPVs5Fb4OtFDgdhtpOsu41lS8JmMxefGWYGkqfDvhPrcbu0N-vOfrlA8hDbgd7LKDvjE6yPzpfX5G8q-BL-rrEDT778oFwym7fQ8YbFoHTBe/s1600/IMG_2230.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was really wishing for one of <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-splitboards/voile-revelator-bc-splitboard-2014-2015.html" target="_blank">Voilé's revolutionary Revelators</a> here--not steep enough to ride but enough downhill to make skins slow and awkward. A splitboard with scales?! Sick!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKtlqgx29A-520fNvp8OcUjq1JGFd-dPqPatoBWq3k9tGwevgMhkWwQy_uGzBjrcMRp8ipszXjx16hAxWxMO7bywOF2d4PemzrCK5vYV6VZ7i4y0zaVDlABGUtgomtprkTCVSGDheuIPS/s1600/IMG_2231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKtlqgx29A-520fNvp8OcUjq1JGFd-dPqPatoBWq3k9tGwevgMhkWwQy_uGzBjrcMRp8ipszXjx16hAxWxMO7bywOF2d4PemzrCK5vYV6VZ7i4y0zaVDlABGUtgomtprkTCVSGDheuIPS/s1600/IMG_2231.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wandering out of the Burbank Triangle.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraU3zwKBHjObIHICM69LZHhOE3disHHstcupO6SfZfCOeQp_l_zsOlgysBRe7Nhr_FsliCTOOvxa69FEcVcU-SH_EvhTA1SjI2uUz7YU-KNHfLQBSn_ZGrapb7COW3hZdnYw6pxE53-wk/s1600/IMG_4036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraU3zwKBHjObIHICM69LZHhOE3disHHstcupO6SfZfCOeQp_l_zsOlgysBRe7Nhr_FsliCTOOvxa69FEcVcU-SH_EvhTA1SjI2uUz7YU-KNHfLQBSn_ZGrapb7COW3hZdnYw6pxE53-wk/s1600/IMG_4036.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scotty battles sideways snow on the shoulder of Oliver. At least it was drier up here.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The overall theme for the day became wet-and-heavy snow down low and nuking winds up high, with a powdery sweet spot somewhere at mid-elevations. We forged through sideways snowfall, little visibility, and a cold left cheek to the top of Oliver, and then made a rapid transition to downhill-mode for a couple thousand feet of amazing powder to Stateline. Once again, the Artisan ruled the day.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTBduXlvwvrZIi0kx00_LUJrDx3tBg-rmYJClPtNtuyE1Cw1docJZOBIPaqj98G26oHjwk2Y14MdyviDoLc7N1RhjQIqLh5mDI1JM0PkasekV2eImEff9NG4jeJ2_rQ196Y0ZYXFMbZIn/s1600/IMG_2238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTBduXlvwvrZIi0kx00_LUJrDx3tBg-rmYJClPtNtuyE1Cw1docJZOBIPaqj98G26oHjwk2Y14MdyviDoLc7N1RhjQIqLh5mDI1JM0PkasekV2eImEff9NG4jeJ2_rQ196Y0ZYXFMbZIn/s1600/IMG_2238.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Crossing the log over the creek at Stateline. We were already soaking wet, but an unintentional swim seemed like a bad option anyway. (It's probably thigh-deep here.)</span></td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Down at Stateline we discovered that the Pass highway was closed, and that the enormous parking lot was nearly full. Thankful that we weren't trying to drive anywhere, we crossed the road and started skinning up through the forest towards Talbot's and the West Ridge of Mt. Taylor. This was the one stretch of the day where we had a track broken for us--someone </span><span style="font-size: large;">chose the south-facing aspens for their powder turns and had put a track in to the ridgetop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Walking a mile in someone else's track? So good.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6iAuXYb8mH48omtOqFnkg_xEh4_L8uT448QSBD0WkLSguKi56bynTUwOIlJtmIk3Od7qXmKT2WRN89cvdWGE8k5GyPar4uypMQgpgc7Q_mc5-chhWxqNCF4hHXvUuo3hMZfhE6YTtW7C/s1600/IMG_4045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6iAuXYb8mH48omtOqFnkg_xEh4_L8uT448QSBD0WkLSguKi56bynTUwOIlJtmIk3Od7qXmKT2WRN89cvdWGE8k5GyPar4uypMQgpgc7Q_mc5-chhWxqNCF4hHXvUuo3hMZfhE6YTtW7C/s1600/IMG_4045.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ugg.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then it ended. Skinning 4 miles and almost 4000' from Stateline to the top of Taylor takes a long time. Add in knee-deep, thick trailbreaking and it takes a really long time.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAlhDopHYZm7MRCLrPRrSmOF-VU2os4fG3KE3lV8zkxJw6pnGT30-OOnluzE1m36rhnTDb_jajKFWhJQ0tIBFkbsKOwkjtqIYMGaGrMZL09q6adJUKnJdke_JZ272OlWU_5qSC3ROF2Qyt/s1600/IMG_2241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAlhDopHYZm7MRCLrPRrSmOF-VU2os4fG3KE3lV8zkxJw6pnGT30-OOnluzE1m36rhnTDb_jajKFWhJQ0tIBFkbsKOwkjtqIYMGaGrMZL09q6adJUKnJdke_JZ272OlWU_5qSC3ROF2Qyt/s1600/IMG_2241.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Getting close to the top of Mt. Taylor.(?)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The breeze picked up as we gained elevation, pleasantly drying out our saturated clothing, and turned gale-force as we neared the summit of Taylor. It's difficult to describe the experience of stumbling to the top of a mountain in shrieking winds and snowfall with absolutely zero visibility and realizing that though you're not sure exactly where you are you know you're surrounded by major avalanche terrain. It's daunting. And mildly scary.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I called Erica from the summit (once I discovered that it was 4:30pm) to ask for a raincheck on date night, and forgiveness for having to ask such a lame favor.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Bad husband.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Saintly wife.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11whyphenhyphengd3zfrD7e-Uh81yoHWRcQKGtVnQu7HFTkmNkzLkRpmQ2K1mZlAAsK2JADoaVvomXY4n0XBcys1GiczQb-c8mtEyvlji5vQ3_FoqPDNLCnU2OLyG8obLWl_hY1no1mekNpebeTM20/s1600/IMG_4048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11whyphenhyphengd3zfrD7e-Uh81yoHWRcQKGtVnQu7HFTkmNkzLkRpmQ2K1mZlAAsK2JADoaVvomXY4n0XBcys1GiczQb-c8mtEyvlji5vQ3_FoqPDNLCnU2OLyG8obLWl_hY1no1mekNpebeTM20/s1600/IMG_4048.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The view from the top of Taylor. Sweet.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back to business, I put on all of the clothing I had with me and we started the process of figuring out our trip down. With the heavy snowfall and high winds, we knew that we had to thread the needle down the Southeast Ridge to avoid big avalanche terrain. The trick was how to find the needle. We weren't even totally sure we were actually on the summit, and could barely make out the surface of the snow let alone terrain features below us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">A little bit of guesswork and brief views of a rock or a stubby tree led us down to the false summit and then to what seemed like the Southeast Ridge, or at least a relatively low-angle route downhill. After ripping skins and committing to downhill travel, Scotty broke out his probe and employed some advanced route-finding technique while I fought off a vertigo-induced urge to vomit.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdULcFgMQm07ShJZNzfouO4ibHSwTVB6hW6YMyZypnj6uP2G6r-ObqbKMaRGnKOYOCCOdD7em1yZF-6_O4mp6jlz8H6qIE44x1lhQQEGOnunClFl7Lx3wnfR64wJKQNp5UQkY338WNnVVH/s1600/IMG_4051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdULcFgMQm07ShJZNzfouO4ibHSwTVB6hW6YMyZypnj6uP2G6r-ObqbKMaRGnKOYOCCOdD7em1yZF-6_O4mp6jlz8H6qIE44x1lhQQEGOnunClFl7Lx3wnfR64wJKQNp5UQkY338WNnVVH/s1600/IMG_4051.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sometimes this is the only way to tell where the ground is...</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then we made out a familiar rock outcropping and there we were--smack on the Southeast Ridge! Some combination of dead reckoning whiteout navigational skill and good </span><span style="font-size: large;">luck put us right where we wanted to be, with a couple thousand feet of deep powder and safe terrain to the bottom of Coal Creek. Good thing too--every little roll and drift that we ski-cut on our descent shattered and released in small avalanches.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the turns were damn fine...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtebG8DDQtee7hN4m4SgriiyXIMLY-nGE32zxTYRcYexepSyUjzK3IYETDEYoDQPXjKwXID2n4pUGAil8yWedIaQBc-8E2wM8CINWNnXDB113PZynUkt9z5fppJQFrNuJ9_KHDzv2irDJI/s1600/IMG_4053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtebG8DDQtee7hN4m4SgriiyXIMLY-nGE32zxTYRcYexepSyUjzK3IYETDEYoDQPXjKwXID2n4pUGAil8yWedIaQBc-8E2wM8CINWNnXDB113PZynUkt9z5fppJQFrNuJ9_KHDzv2irDJI/s1600/IMG_4053.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scotty takes off down the Southeast Ridge of Mt. Taylor...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5piIGLaO03zh6cWD2ET_S3YEJxpxv_JM1G-yjL7xr1vyLsyMd_tj_sLRsZITyVJjg-06iHJk2pzghBc0zfqNECxgeq9GdC1EkRncmGddmkvVgBw_GZd4Hk27f4jw3g3O5kzB4DgHF2AX4/s1600/IMG_4063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5piIGLaO03zh6cWD2ET_S3YEJxpxv_JM1G-yjL7xr1vyLsyMd_tj_sLRsZITyVJjg-06iHJk2pzghBc0zfqNECxgeq9GdC1EkRncmGddmkvVgBw_GZd4Hk27f4jw3g3O5kzB4DgHF2AX4/s1600/IMG_4063.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...And disappears into the foggy pow.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhyEO9i5Y6svSvgg3vM2V_7EWu-HEVH0gpBgD0O86PaAJDbSjILUNg7MbC2f-Hvs6-TdbL7rh2oyEGVuOErCpgLH7Wt-ekksL15IjcYxEYD1OYU-2M_jD_gnFCX5FvA225ooSBmJhvWjY/s1600/IMG_2252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhyEO9i5Y6svSvgg3vM2V_7EWu-HEVH0gpBgD0O86PaAJDbSjILUNg7MbC2f-Hvs6-TdbL7rh2oyEGVuOErCpgLH7Wt-ekksL15IjcYxEYD1OYU-2M_jD_gnFCX5FvA225ooSBmJhvWjY/s1600/IMG_2252.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"That's where we need to sneak through the cliffs below." Threading the needle.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROzxW7-2EzNKxlnswtKP7Gt63opElCesOQg_DutCgY1xGCQfN_yT4R1XgdgYCp51OKbGqF76heVw-ccN5uwiHYvdt3egY3NV-sZTDUwFr2i3gslTpAmT0s67Uc2zuqD5yFhml5B7wTEsg/s1600/IMG_2255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROzxW7-2EzNKxlnswtKP7Gt63opElCesOQg_DutCgY1xGCQfN_yT4R1XgdgYCp51OKbGqF76heVw-ccN5uwiHYvdt3egY3NV-sZTDUwFr2i3gslTpAmT0s67Uc2zuqD5yFhml5B7wTEsg/s1600/IMG_2255.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And finding the goods.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho1Elrr7Ocqf7ZnMSJzlXwlpr34MFiW2VRJKls4cMfmWvdELZvR4ZUpG4dL2kcLEROeASc0wjwOyRixjqDdqMrq0cem2Poy8N85ZkoLGhh6c63INBeDfif6S1m7-oIKEhK9h2dhW5n9rpr/s1600/IMG_4127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho1Elrr7Ocqf7ZnMSJzlXwlpr34MFiW2VRJKls4cMfmWvdELZvR4ZUpG4dL2kcLEROeASc0wjwOyRixjqDdqMrq0cem2Poy8N85ZkoLGhh6c63INBeDfif6S1m7-oIKEhK9h2dhW5n9rpr/s1600/IMG_4127.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, deeeep.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiC2tT0MLP5vGygfPFF11xQgZP8rjU_PVPIplRf66gIQNmN6MAinJPyEMBNWWJ5zS3w3q6vJEHl8zBBHGRfpCS01UZM-53dqDomYRsh7aKMBbCRDMvxchqrTuMfrmqdL5dV7e42lhHM4B/s1600/IMG_4138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiC2tT0MLP5vGygfPFF11xQgZP8rjU_PVPIplRf66gIQNmN6MAinJPyEMBNWWJ5zS3w3q6vJEHl8zBBHGRfpCS01UZM-53dqDomYRsh7aKMBbCRDMvxchqrTuMfrmqdL5dV7e42lhHM4B/s1600/IMG_4138.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, deeeeeper.<br /></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Reaching Coal Creek at 5:15pm, we reluctantly had to admit that it would be unwise to start the 3000' ascent up Mt. Glory to continue the tour. We might have been able to break trail to the summit before dark, but we would be fully committing ourselves to navigating </span><span style="font-size: large;">by headlamp</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">through big avalanche terrain with reactive new slabs on the trip down to Teton Pass. And then making our way through Edelweiss, Columbia Bowls, and back into Mail Cabin by headlamp as well, in heavy snowfall, seemed like a continuation of a bad idea.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So we pointed ourselves down the luge run and banked turns to the parking lot, where we once again had it all to ourselves.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYFqbcZTJjxazQ9vPmaU0B0sJ-6x_2vxsw8eB87Wz8zIitcwkBTVd-EoEzOpKu73c5e9fjA9EIfvxksSWpnrS1xSda6y7PUS9plUI-WGTOS_0hJTJhIRegPMfFUMgiyTJ2rEr6l7DPdI6/s1600/IMG_4145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYFqbcZTJjxazQ9vPmaU0B0sJ-6x_2vxsw8eB87Wz8zIitcwkBTVd-EoEzOpKu73c5e9fjA9EIfvxksSWpnrS1xSda6y7PUS9plUI-WGTOS_0hJTJhIRegPMfFUMgiyTJ2rEr6l7DPdI6/s1600/IMG_4145.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Dude, where's my car?"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">First in, last out; "Bell-to-bell," as Scotty put it. Standing back at the beginning 11 hours later, with 12" of fresh snow on top of the car, we had to question what the hell we had just done. 16 miles and 8,000'+ of brutal trailbreaking in a sometimes-sideways blizzard--oof. We had some phenomenal powder turns, to be sure, but an absurd amount of travel to get to them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Though I would like to say that we got to see a ton of amazing country, in reality we couldn't see much of anything for most of the day. Lots of shades of white and grey, with dark trees and red backpacks to add spice.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Good workout? Check.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Good adventure? Yup.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Good fun? Sure.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Would I do it again? Absolutely.</span><br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg074EIZw_HGBPX1rzN8-y4W0Ia5fZcpQGoTwKRCMgYnDm-i_DEXYMIiMs06D3rDQ2gSCQx08vSjB4XIYhJvXETFnmEng0YHHnATrnrJHPMkmMGDJMCYa2HXUtjm4R8hL7Anhzlr5HP2nKC/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-03-03+at+11.43.37+AM.png" height="416" width="640" /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I guess this is just what we do when storms and stability keep us from getting too rowdy in the alpine.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Splitboard and all.</span><br />
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AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-20557846058881410932014-02-21T06:16:00.000-08:002015-08-31T21:47:24.249-07:00Going Solo<span style="font-size: large;">I skied solo today.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I like skiing solo. I like snowboarding solo, too. Not every day, but sometimes it's nice to be in the mountains on my own. Sometimes I go mountain biking solo. Sometimes I go road biking solo. Sometimes I go trail running solo. Sometimes I cook dinner solo. Sometimes I make love solo.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Wait a minute...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I like the ease of being on my own, not making conversation, just flowing through the mountains. I make my own decisions, based on my own observations. Sometimes I enjoy the company of friends, but other times I find I'm my own best company. I don't have to hurry to keep up, or wait for anybody else. My pace and my breathing mesh and I focus on breaking the trail in front of me.</span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-32895022368475318772014-01-19T16:48:00.001-08:002015-08-31T21:47:24.261-07:00Sastrugi and Scree<span style="font-size: large;">When we drove over the Pass at 2am on Friday, there were at least 20 cars in the lot, with skiers milling about chatting it up. After the initial confusion passed, we realized that the full moon had extended the ski day into the wee hours. Perfectly clear sky, little wind, warm temps</span><span style="font-size: large;">--those people were stoked!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then, driving through Wilson at 3mph trying not to hit drunken revelers wobbling down the middle of Main Street, Scotty said, "Wow--we're up early enough to see them at the end of their yesterday," which struck my half-caffeinated brain as pretty profound.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA62w8uOPJ77XkcQqEWHT3zZZgGSWxhdPomh-0ILUZfjhHGXhxead5Tt1VTX2cWS4qnba_5C4AjTkdIJ47CtsW2AaLtTvCboetmrN6xdR3HJzTC0tv9gvBj8FKtAVe4t7ZOkNPnLuAuDTK/s1600/IMG_2061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA62w8uOPJ77XkcQqEWHT3zZZgGSWxhdPomh-0ILUZfjhHGXhxead5Tt1VTX2cWS4qnba_5C4AjTkdIJ47CtsW2AaLtTvCboetmrN6xdR3HJzTC0tv9gvBj8FKtAVe4t7ZOkNPnLuAuDTK/s1600/IMG_2061.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brrr, it's early.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scotty Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Scotty had a day off from patrolling up at <a href="http://www.grandtarghee.com/" target="_blank">Targhee</a> and Twinkie had come over from Lander for a few days of skiing, so we figured we should do some exploring up high. The plan was to skin into Garnet Canyon under the full moon and head up toward the Grand Teton for a ski adventure up there. With last weekend's 3'+ of snowfall and high winds, we figured we had a 50/50 chance of getting turned around by poor stability, but you don't know if you don't go.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So we went.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XmBpt5BF33PY96Ow_-zqCZu5-a3OlTvXy0saa93RZsvBpeYIY2SnUCv4UpxElrnGALWZXOleTgDJ6FvE_rVF0d8NOGbipVczn0ahQtMf7wPjn14n-gnLBjsjR-PCM3JyyA5xpC1rb-HM/s1600/IMG_1759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XmBpt5BF33PY96Ow_-zqCZu5-a3OlTvXy0saa93RZsvBpeYIY2SnUCv4UpxElrnGALWZXOleTgDJ6FvE_rVF0d8NOGbipVczn0ahQtMf7wPjn14n-gnLBjsjR-PCM3JyyA5xpC1rb-HM/s1600/IMG_1759.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">A lovely, clear, windless morning made us hopeful as we skinned out of the parking lot, and totally sandbagged us about the conditions up high. Once we got across Bradley Lake and up into the canyon we were breaking trail through 20cm of soft snow in our shirtsleeves. Amazing. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Under the light of the full moon we could see some spinners blowing off of Nez Pierce and Cloudveil Dome, but we still weren't feeling a breath of wind.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We finally started feeling a light breeze in the Meadows, and the snow turned from shallow pow to windboard. Leading the charge up the North Fork, Scotty finally called back to say that the slab had started to feel/sound hollow. So we dug a pit to test the snow and gather some data.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At 5am.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the dark.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDYn_sqhz8pCPrRh7Z9RLx7kdfr0lZUgKX0cL5bhjyA7yYxRY9nMyNpmNRmfQXUokGJZhyeMwIJuwjJsSktl8w9J_LNPG5nySZeqSbDRCF4QcfFMyPRqu3Vt5234EudebHV4hqWPsQNGVX/s1600/IMG_1779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDYn_sqhz8pCPrRh7Z9RLx7kdfr0lZUgKX0cL5bhjyA7yYxRY9nMyNpmNRmfQXUokGJZhyeMwIJuwjJsSktl8w9J_LNPG5nySZeqSbDRCF4QcfFMyPRqu3Vt5234EudebHV4hqWPsQNGVX/s1600/IMG_1779.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thump on it!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">High strength, with full propagation on multiple tests and poor structure. Probably hard to trigger, but likely to produce big avalanches. Predictable? Sort of. Manageable? Not really. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Using our powers that our friend Lynne (The Authority) calls "extrapolating upwards", we deduced that if we didn't like the stability on these wind-loaded slopes at 10,000' we wouldn't like it any better in high-consequence terrain at 12,000'. Not entirely surprising, but not entirely what we were hoping for either.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I submitted the observation that if we stripped skins and headed downhill we could make it to <a href="http://norasfishcreekinn.com/Noras/Home.html" target="_blank">Nora's</a> in time for breakfast.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Scotty countered that we had woken up at 12:45am and skinned to 10,000' before sunrise, dammit, and we might as well make something of the day. With my priorities properly realigned, we decided to venture up into the South Fork of Garnet Canyon and see what the Southwest Couloir on the Middle Teton had to offer--different wind patterns, different terrain, different snowpack.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2IpAysiT2ZvD5rdwwQLR-icJ_fO3rcTeYBjP3VxxBAW141VzWT3Q94Sm_sqEfElKAIRNU47rGgxXXzT6kGSmif7RSyDbc14RbU2kzMDnTC3rowZd4ELi5LSE249QucRyuBh9i1CMBKP-/s1600/IMG_2073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2IpAysiT2ZvD5rdwwQLR-icJ_fO3rcTeYBjP3VxxBAW141VzWT3Q94Sm_sqEfElKAIRNU47rGgxXXzT6kGSmif7RSyDbc14RbU2kzMDnTC3rowZd4ELi5LSE249QucRyuBh9i1CMBKP-/s1600/IMG_2073.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Making our packs lighter.</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scotty Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So we left our ropes, harness, and ice axes tucked in some rocks and without knowing it left behind good snow and pleasant weather as well. What was windboard in the Meadows turned bulletproof, then 40cm-tall sastrugi, and finally the snow had been blown away entirely and we were walking through scree toward the north shoulder of the Middle.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-O2sprukFEJsIiOG1HcoMlPLxOH85Ukc34OXM4VYoF0u1afZ0wrmoSeJRdTpx8PXPKS38dKYpz7xwmc75EUg7VLvedN0OwrqqQB4u8F0u_sL2MHdAIppfTHKDwaAIiJUsp79SbtphFgSv/s1600/IMG_1787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-O2sprukFEJsIiOG1HcoMlPLxOH85Ukc34OXM4VYoF0u1afZ0wrmoSeJRdTpx8PXPKS38dKYpz7xwmc75EUg7VLvedN0OwrqqQB4u8F0u_sL2MHdAIppfTHKDwaAIiJUsp79SbtphFgSv/s1600/IMG_1787.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Starting to feel the breeze.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV7iiwmC5_XQzum8VZHREfviUxfCpUxbU-72Xx0ByiJjqY5twpCMvBrAkBVyTOJGraFodac6UeUh4J7206T4bOy73vyoCzs5UBCc4Fh98JLqRfpKVX1k84dtAR7mrB4XE1AGCipYeijc8/s1600/IMG_1795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV7iiwmC5_XQzum8VZHREfviUxfCpUxbU-72Xx0ByiJjqY5twpCMvBrAkBVyTOJGraFodac6UeUh4J7206T4bOy73vyoCzs5UBCc4Fh98JLqRfpKVX1k84dtAR7mrB4XE1AGCipYeijc8/s1600/IMG_1795.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Q: Dude, it snowed over 3 feet last weekend! Where did it all go?<br />A: South Dakota</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In what was now a howling wind, Twinkie inexplicably lost his mojo and decided to turn around and wobble back down to a sheltered, sunny spot for a nap. Scotty and I continued with the exfoliation, donning crampons when we found hard enough snow that our boots weren't even making a mark.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj41LUhf6lIdn69V02CR3m7OdciTckT3uVekK-qJ8Tzazkc1SsvO6MHNgSf1LnFYc5IZKqyTHCV5DVtch_xKpMQf-IOBBp9rmhzbP_PUij4FSaGLqvXeoh-xfr2q29p3VIOWpEeOZI-wnSg/s1600/IMG_1800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj41LUhf6lIdn69V02CR3m7OdciTckT3uVekK-qJ8Tzazkc1SsvO6MHNgSf1LnFYc5IZKqyTHCV5DVtch_xKpMQf-IOBBp9rmhzbP_PUij4FSaGLqvXeoh-xfr2q29p3VIOWpEeOZI-wnSg/s1600/IMG_1800.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Check out that wind-etching!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11d_l7rvVEAwhst0Tfm-3on8vdFMIxvRVPe3KZlY1lGmOtVOPj34bUJwJ8UJ1AfGHq6cvShBwlqjJxX0tkPfyaebLEAefGQggF01v6gVDklNd0vdJoAcv72dMvIS89tRtmwU7j9dRks-Y/s1600/IMG_2081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11d_l7rvVEAwhst0Tfm-3on8vdFMIxvRVPe3KZlY1lGmOtVOPj34bUJwJ8UJ1AfGHq6cvShBwlqjJxX0tkPfyaebLEAefGQggF01v6gVDklNd0vdJoAcv72dMvIS89tRtmwU7j9dRks-Y/s1600/IMG_2081.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dude, what are we doing?</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scotty Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But optimism prevailed. Maybe the wind would die down when we turned the corner into the couloir. Maybe the couloir had been protected from the storm's northwest winds and we would find blower pow up there. Maybe a faerie would flutter past and throw pixie dust on my face, and I would finally be able to grow a beard.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In reality, the snow just got worse as we climbed and while we no longer had a snow stability issue we had to admit that what started as a ski day had turned into a day of climbing into the alpine with skis. With that change in perspective, we climbed up wind-eroded, rime-blasted, shallow snow in a gale, sometimes scampering over rock where the snow had blown off entirely and sometimes canyoneering up an armpit-deep runnel that the wind had given overhanging walls.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvoxYi5ncS-RZVNZ5pjSCStoLOKyKg-qb0zBaXCewVyYQCgagUz_4ojykcP3Z3cxXw2MpMxP3-1mqH0-8FQCXR79GgRSGIW3QMMgEOTSYXMWxgxhKeA7x0UIjlmGRPvltwKui3KRzXF9PO/s1600/IMG_1857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvoxYi5ncS-RZVNZ5pjSCStoLOKyKg-qb0zBaXCewVyYQCgagUz_4ojykcP3Z3cxXw2MpMxP3-1mqH0-8FQCXR79GgRSGIW3QMMgEOTSYXMWxgxhKeA7x0UIjlmGRPvltwKui3KRzXF9PO/s1600/IMG_1857.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nice runnel, eh?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Wanna know how to recognize a true adventure? When you're engaged in a pursuit that you would rather be at home reading about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">No, we actually loved it. Good character-building fun.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGCpDKczcypeOAE7bjaodPOplwThn9ZDMOMiG1DUlb2p-_PAlxycJmFeS46CvVn7E0mgGD7AwgBKAATsnbhKvSooIt9vIxrS15h06DMn1pz_xnwEw5ZuvFn4mOB_73grxixHAZ-pKlrMz2/s1600/IMG_1811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGCpDKczcypeOAE7bjaodPOplwThn9ZDMOMiG1DUlb2p-_PAlxycJmFeS46CvVn7E0mgGD7AwgBKAATsnbhKvSooIt9vIxrS15h06DMn1pz_xnwEw5ZuvFn4mOB_73grxixHAZ-pKlrMz2/s1600/IMG_1811.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Now <i>that's</i> rime! Just below the summit.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When we reached the summit, Scotty's toes had gone from cold to completely disconnected from his brain so we dug a sheltered alcove in the sun and did a little belly-warming to bring them back.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnf67f2aQXIwudGhqjYJ0XHzg0SBSmWAnvebKr7jb21_tJZSxeZeQ0SMONrsEyyGCSIfkWC-O_8xk7Ak_1jzmUWlp5r4XMwImqcKcLnMrcdl7OuDEnff_DLpQ7fYPKsl_XUxh4fYcz-xLj/s1600/IMG_1814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnf67f2aQXIwudGhqjYJ0XHzg0SBSmWAnvebKr7jb21_tJZSxeZeQ0SMONrsEyyGCSIfkWC-O_8xk7Ak_1jzmUWlp5r4XMwImqcKcLnMrcdl7OuDEnff_DLpQ7fYPKsl_XUxh4fYcz-xLj/s1600/IMG_1814.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, shelter from the gale. Happily on top.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLXd4GZ2Apo_Lczx8laWAEJMaFPduNScHIZYahbtKwHfmUutlwe-dTep_XeDyFXZKm_Y2QZAv8FZHRbzLI7CmgjVj65sHhKCDgnBPcsPLKEDd78SgbpUgfGOMYjvUhrt_vvGtZAMbAjRZ/s1600/IMG_1817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLXd4GZ2Apo_Lczx8laWAEJMaFPduNScHIZYahbtKwHfmUutlwe-dTep_XeDyFXZKm_Y2QZAv8FZHRbzLI7CmgjVj65sHhKCDgnBPcsPLKEDd78SgbpUgfGOMYjvUhrt_vvGtZAMbAjRZ/s1600/IMG_1817.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's been a number of years since I warmed another man's feet on my chest.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then we took a few summit photos, climbed back down 100' to "skiable" snow, and started making "turns" back down the rimed sastrugi in the couloir.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUxOuJi77q75vTQ0cFaDYVcLSj-JumqAtNTkyFSC5uIKVdYyToMQZrQ5UFDYXb3gUSR3hlg2LGjNOWk-3MZAVZsFd-vbOiYBpX0UkOvX2smPNNBxpMuzPdI92BM59uhzkvjDBTAejv_gJH/s1600/IMG_1819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUxOuJi77q75vTQ0cFaDYVcLSj-JumqAtNTkyFSC5uIKVdYyToMQZrQ5UFDYXb3gUSR3hlg2LGjNOWk-3MZAVZsFd-vbOiYBpX0UkOvX2smPNNBxpMuzPdI92BM59uhzkvjDBTAejv_gJH/s1600/IMG_1819.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Excellent view of the Grand Teton from the summit of the Middle.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5zg0O-2YM8DsnKcLuwtmZAxsB1uCS3N2wVsZ9Vse1RFXdx6si4bsBjtkxYbH9pMltrsDHqIXBJTsQrBCBlQCHn52nyTbMP8Qc47RIzjwivLuxcgB5WE8n9L08KKGbxJA0WR9-4HbQdAS/s1600/IMG_1823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5zg0O-2YM8DsnKcLuwtmZAxsB1uCS3N2wVsZ9Vse1RFXdx6si4bsBjtkxYbH9pMltrsDHqIXBJTsQrBCBlQCHn52nyTbMP8Qc47RIzjwivLuxcgB5WE8n9L08KKGbxJA0WR9-4HbQdAS/s1600/IMG_1823.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Contemplating 2000' of horror-show skiing.<br />On a different note, these <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-skis/voile-v8-skis-2013-2014.html" target="_blank">Voilē V8's</a> are mind-blowing. Playful, plenty of oomph to plow through thick snow, and their ability to handle these "firm" conditions belied their girth. Drive them and they will perform.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGL-UMMFLi2_AT-mV81jOaC3zd-0tNmJ9LV4a_Zgm9lyYdXXZIq_nSCK2wPkqQ0AzPYuk8Lrfm4zzc6Ez9Ajc64bTxv538yo0-oJB4Mas3NHuZ6vSfLd5WJT7orwcbm5DQVS6yx-N4_0M/s1600/IMG_2086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGL-UMMFLi2_AT-mV81jOaC3zd-0tNmJ9LV4a_Zgm9lyYdXXZIq_nSCK2wPkqQ0AzPYuk8Lrfm4zzc6Ez9Ajc64bTxv538yo0-oJB4Mas3NHuZ6vSfLd5WJT7orwcbm5DQVS6yx-N4_0M/s1600/IMG_2086.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-align: start;">Just making us better skiers.</span></span><br />Photo: Scotty Palmer</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKG4fXR0oPslf66VaYupPcZkLWv48DnI1YCRhREaQI3V8-WRvRGhM_VEaBGq8yLs7tw7ieacSZZThfofj20Iuw8GS5em7LaMWMyvyZxYIz81tIwtZ3W74iF0KkU9XIcEwrFpqOLbhC5Yc/s1600/IMG_1830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKG4fXR0oPslf66VaYupPcZkLWv48DnI1YCRhREaQI3V8-WRvRGhM_VEaBGq8yLs7tw7ieacSZZThfofj20Iuw8GS5em7LaMWMyvyZxYIz81tIwtZ3W74iF0KkU9XIcEwrFpqOLbhC5Yc/s1600/IMG_1830.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scotty takes flight mid-turn.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">With a few turns here and a bit of downclimbing there we came out of the shade and back into the sun, and turned tail for the canyon bottom and the track back home. Skis on, skis off, bouncing over/off of sastrugi like it was moguls. Vicious.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDHN3CURyF74MsPvMDbOsp29bluxusTtwRadq6sr7jo2eIR-w1oIqQcHjcSLub-jLU8-pwpWJFkK-w_t8r7bEN3Py7nB0jPUoF_Bppyjv_0YJJ8hcEF_ISLbsVoG1Z1uXMf9Sp8VDnBPbd/s1600/IMG_2109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDHN3CURyF74MsPvMDbOsp29bluxusTtwRadq6sr7jo2eIR-w1oIqQcHjcSLub-jLU8-pwpWJFkK-w_t8r7bEN3Py7nB0jPUoF_Bppyjv_0YJJ8hcEF_ISLbsVoG1Z1uXMf9Sp8VDnBPbd/s1600/IMG_2109.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Did we really just do that?</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scotty Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQ2UGwRmxWIfd9-lR2iac_7aRRTD-qPrwoKzq4oIFgrOl_YQnVBGXpW9gibOiD4eS5YduMHHE4JA329ug8PZqG9JVc9ZEuxZ1O2j2dp61nZmpclapzQOem2lJibSwc1ZgOzi1LwRZJEAM/s1600/IMG_1880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQ2UGwRmxWIfd9-lR2iac_7aRRTD-qPrwoKzq4oIFgrOl_YQnVBGXpW9gibOiD4eS5YduMHHE4JA329ug8PZqG9JVc9ZEuxZ1O2j2dp61nZmpclapzQOem2lJibSwc1ZgOzi1LwRZJEAM/s1600/IMG_1880.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...And we're outta here.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Below the Meadows the wind magically ceased and we were back to fast powder skiing, bumping off of boulder mushrooms down to a snack in the sun with Twinkie. With the perspective of a few minutes' separation we were able to chuckle about how bad the conditions were up high, and how good they were down here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then it came time to boogie out of the mountains.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sastrugi and scree--kind of like Leather and Lace, but different.</span><br />
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<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/UYuHYdiLhYQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-88780189079163475342013-12-27T13:55:00.000-08:002015-08-31T21:47:24.335-07:00Christmas and the Apocalypse<span style="font-size: large;">Once again this year, with Erica being Jewish and me being indifferent, I chose Christmas as a day for adventuring in the mountains. I mean no crowds, bluebird skies, fresh powder, and a similarly motivated friend--perfect.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've skied the Apocalypse Couloir on Prospector's Mountain a few times, and it seemed like the right objective for this day--mid-elevation, sheltered from the wind, protected from solar heating, and it sluffs regularly enough to flush out many of the weak layers that we have in our snowpack. It would take significant assessment and management to get it done safely, but we agreed that it was a good terrain choice for the day's hazard.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I picked up Scotty Palmer in the dark cold of Jackson on Christmas morning, and what followed was a fantastic day of adventuring in fun terrain, with wonderfully stable snow.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8pBddwirmbjEx25A50yQ1VlaCPap1NweZC0fh2HDMWMyFhYuwCzGdatg89DirRPFLcLLDuqZ3tzlQOQ3Xt8aGda-2_x0lc1FiOjMML_cRFLaY_o-5AVL1qd4vUsoDUChq5wI28zSNPJA/s1600/IMG_0223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8pBddwirmbjEx25A50yQ1VlaCPap1NweZC0fh2HDMWMyFhYuwCzGdatg89DirRPFLcLLDuqZ3tzlQOQ3Xt8aGda-2_x0lc1FiOjMML_cRFLaY_o-5AVL1qd4vUsoDUChq5wI28zSNPJA/s1600/IMG_0223.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Putting in a fresh skintrack through low-elevation facets was slow work. Good thing Scotty was there to keep me entertained.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhogn-mk8AfA9AR6Q0MFXjOl-hr7srA-CnGHBKV0IPwbCsKSmwFqWp9JlxRLh8FNrAZhE4A9mNX69ZAv2ViiVHcEAjZ9rOg2jTZrzbNZ0-DB7eRlBxYvOAp5dZyLO_SJTKDjfEEjseRo_8U/s1600/IMG_0235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhogn-mk8AfA9AR6Q0MFXjOl-hr7srA-CnGHBKV0IPwbCsKSmwFqWp9JlxRLh8FNrAZhE4A9mNX69ZAv2ViiVHcEAjZ9rOg2jTZrzbNZ0-DB7eRlBxYvOAp5dZyLO_SJTKDjfEEjseRo_8U/s1600/IMG_0235.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">39 degrees seemed like a good slope angle for digging. Scotty found sluggish storm snow instability. Nice scenery, too.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Prepping the first rappel. What a lovely day!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Starting the descent into the deep, dark of the Apocalypse Couloir.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scott Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Like a fish... Hoping that this is the final pitch before we get to skiable snow. (Big, overhanging ice bulge just where the ropes go out of view.)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let's put these ropes away and ski!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scott Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">After stomping a ski cut with no results, Scotty commits to the line.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, good. We found wonderful, chalky snow--great edging.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scott Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Boing, boing.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Things got narrow for a good long ways in the upper couloir.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scott Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then widened up at the dogleg.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scott Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE845eZFUlKi7A2YH8oenQvr_-RNTnKWvs3JXxUHQYLLHR53umLl3qypLNbiEp0FHe-ILDyJ6ww2TkWHp6Qi6LlCKzdmH8gKM5umVau0O2hCqkIvGsyINZBP7qhM-15O8O-oFywIcf80m4/s1600/IMG_0414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE845eZFUlKi7A2YH8oenQvr_-RNTnKWvs3JXxUHQYLLHR53umLl3qypLNbiEp0FHe-ILDyJ6ww2TkWHp6Qi6LlCKzdmH8gKM5umVau0O2hCqkIvGsyINZBP7qhM-15O8O-oFywIcf80m4/s1600/IMG_0414.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The ice bulge in the narrows of the lower couloir definitely wasn't going to go unroped...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopCspSHUldaZ1nrTkUCHRYnoNlZ1yX5TSc9wqQkVsZURKvvTAne9xbwbtv1cNSOfhBCgUv3gt1NRdn6EYMjtNhWIUsQv_FDcm8n11bwQfFa4fzaLzY4jW2Dke5EbTeja3cJRvXiZeaMsa/s1600/IMG_0412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopCspSHUldaZ1nrTkUCHRYnoNlZ1yX5TSc9wqQkVsZURKvvTAne9xbwbtv1cNSOfhBCgUv3gt1NRdn6EYMjtNhWIUsQv_FDcm8n11bwQfFa4fzaLzY4jW2Dke5EbTeja3cJRvXiZeaMsa/s1600/IMG_0412.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">...So Scotty got all newschool-freestyle-jib-jabby with his twin-tip skis on rappel.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then skied the skinny below the rappel. Burly. Look at all of that ice!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">For a wider ski, these <a href="http://www.voile.com/voile-skis/voile-charger-bc-skis-2013-2014.html" target="_blank">Voilé Charger BC's</a> edge rather well when the snow turns to ice.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Scott Palmer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTm16CMrPu2cDQsJWsdY59bJZP2q0rA-HGZxnOCbnuXl3B9ZREPEdaULUBjDWZCyyO6H-DQMnM9FU2r2Rv_YYgOo2NBMZegbUqsy1cHvr1PjJ5CLF6gkXcJ1o2g_Ns2R1h3wAJEnVUoPx/s1600/IMG_0436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTm16CMrPu2cDQsJWsdY59bJZP2q0rA-HGZxnOCbnuXl3B9ZREPEdaULUBjDWZCyyO6H-DQMnM9FU2r2Rv_YYgOo2NBMZegbUqsy1cHvr1PjJ5CLF6gkXcJ1o2g_Ns2R1h3wAJEnVUoPx/s1600/IMG_0436.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">And we're out! Nice, soft turns to finish it up.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Another amazing day in the Tetons. I'm thankful to be surrounded by this community of skilled and motivated ski partners to get me fired up, and then help me make good decisions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looking forward to the next adventure...</span><br />
<br />AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-18591209011428013782013-12-14T03:36:00.001-08:002015-08-31T21:47:24.237-07:00Alive By Luck, Part 2<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Getting off of the Deville was way more of a challenge than any of us could have expected, and brought us closer to utter disaster than we had ever been. The guidebook describes it as being two pitches of rappelling to a snow gully that can be walked down. The first rappel is pretty easy, and the second is steeper and a bit tricky. It also says to bear right. We found the top easily enough, and beginning the rappel below west-facing slopes at noon seemed like an easy decision. The rappel would take two hours, maybe three tops, and the slopes above wouldn’t receive sun until late in the afternoon. That was when it all went to hell.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Almost off of the rappel, feeling relieved.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After six hours and multiple pitches of rappelling, waiting, trying to find anchors, and communicating across 60 meters of windy space, touching down at the bottom of the rappel brought intense feelings of relief and release from the stress of working through a situation that felt mildly out of control. I hit snow with 3 meters of rope left and ecstatically yelled, “It goes!” as I ran down to a shark’s-fin ridge sticking out of the 40-degree slope. Watching the rest of the crew rappel down and gather on the fin, I completely forgot about the slopes above the rappel, reveling in the release. The sun had traveled into the northwest sky, igniting the blue of the icefall next to us and turning the snow the same rosy gold color in which we had started the day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">With all of us off the rappel, we relaxed in the euphoria of having done it without injury, of being safe. We forgot, or ignored, the hazard that still hung above us. As I finished packing the rope into my pack, Jud traversed across the slope to look up the gully next door and see if that was where the rappel was supposed to end. The rumbling was far off when he arced his turn back, like thunder in the distance on a clear day, but when he screamed we knew instantly what was wrong. I looked up at a Niagara Falls of snow thundering over the lip of the cliff we had just rappelled down. It eclipsed the light of the sky, and we just fled. I ran, stumbled, and then crouched, curled up in a ball, and waited for it to hit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It took a remarkably long time for the avalanche to touch down. I was pretty sure that it would stay on the far side of the fin, that most of us would be out of it’s path. The slope shook under the roar of the cascade thundering down, and then it was over. When I stood up and looked around, pockets packed with snow from the air blast, I was amazed to see four of us on the surface. We raced downslope with transceivers out, searching for Jud in the debris flow a few hundred feet below. After a couple of minutes that felt like much longer we heard him screaming from down slope, out of view, demanding if we were all okay--was everybody there? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And that made five—we were all alive. Looking back up, the rest of the slope was empty; our gear had been carried or blown away, strewn far and wide. We were ultimately able to retrieve almost everything—most stuff was on the surface. I happened to step on Jud’s ski, buried 10cm down. No longer thrilled with the release of coming off the rappel, we silently gathered ourselves together and skied down to safety and the end of the scariest day we’d ever had.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looking back, the slide seemed enormous--maybe size D3.5. With the 500’ freefall it took over the cliff, being buried seemed like a mild consequence; had we been standing under it, we would have simply been crushed. As it was, Jud was carried maybe 400 vertical feet, losing both skis and poles, doing his best to stay on top of the debris after ditching his pack. When it stopped, he was buried face down, but just under the surface. With a mere push-up, he popped himself out of the snow and grabbed his shovel and probe, ready to search for the rest of us. It wasn’t until we had all regrouped that he realized he had bruised a rib, and would be moving gingerly for the rest of the trip. We had come closer to losing our lives than any of us ever had before, or want to again, and for the most part we were just fine.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexduRZOgOAnbKTZ724YAgQ5oShzTUFL4256QkfhdFUeEZjTi1ti2OJhKiDkxdG5MbAYUQO8YutP4njB0Pge4rL5n6fBcNhejIZmKHLnhE-lQUAmBH53dI8W5ug2F1kdlQlCN_sY4z0qAj/s1600/0004292-R01-037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexduRZOgOAnbKTZ724YAgQ5oShzTUFL4256QkfhdFUeEZjTi1ti2OJhKiDkxdG5MbAYUQO8YutP4njB0Pge4rL5n6fBcNhejIZmKHLnhE-lQUAmBH53dI8W5ug2F1kdlQlCN_sY4z0qAj/s1600/0004292-R01-037.jpg" height="432" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">View from the Illeciliwat Nevé the following day. The avalanche came from the slope above and to the left of the rappels, debris is visible below.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We were lucky—that was immediately apparent, but also a superficial assessment of what had happened. It took weeks for me to realize the enormity of our luck. I pride myself on my competence and ability to use good judgment in the mountains. Our survival, however, had nothing to do with either competence or good judgment, beyond my choice to regroup on the fin. (The debris was funneled away from us by this minute feature on the slope.) We knew that slope above us would avalanche sometime between 6 and 6:30pm--west aspects had been going every evening. <i>We knew.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">But we lost the bigger perspective. Our survival was incidental. We had given up our control; this is what scares me most. To have my safety and that of my comrades dependent on fate, karma, luck, whatever, is to me unacceptable. That I allowed myself to become so exposed to a hazard that I could no longer manage is terrifying to me. That we all survived the avalanche with merely a bruised rib was LUCK, pure and simple, and I'm not proud of that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had to head back home pretty shortly after we got out of the mountains. We discussed the avalanche on and off during our last day’s travel, but didn’t say much about it once the trip ended. I haven’t spoken with any of the guys since I left, other than a couple of emails about sharing pictures. Thoughts of the avalanche consumed me in the weeks after it happened, but I didn’t have the energy or courage to discuss it with anybody besides my wife.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As months go by and it moves further into my past, the emotion is becoming separated from the event and I am able to focus on what I can learn from the experience. Stay focused and be attentive to what is happening to the snow around you. Maintain situational awareness. Be aware of human fallibility in managing avalanche hazard. More than concrete lessons, however, what I am taking away is an ability to recognize similar situations and respond appropriately. I know that I won’t avoid avalanche terrain in the future, but I also hope that I will never again allow myself to become so removed from control over my own safety.</span></div>
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-78848298039540265132013-12-12T05:44:00.000-08:002015-08-31T21:47:24.322-07:00Alive By Luck, Part 1<i><span style="font-size: large;">It's been a while since I posted anything here, and I happened across this account that I wrote up after a 2-week ski trip in Canada back in 2004. It was an amazing journey--beautiful country, great skiing, and some heavy learning. I haven't edited it much, wanting to preserve the emotion and perspective from right after the trip ended. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Enjoy.</span></i><br />
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When the snow settled and the wind died, I stood up slowly and looked around with trepidation. Was that it? Where was everybody? What the fuck just happened? Looking across the slope, I saw Christian getting up and Jeff already moving down towards Jay, who was gathering himself at the edge of some debris. What about Jud? The last I had seen him, he was screaming something as he tried to turn out of the path of the avalanche that poured off the cliffs above us. Then I ran, and he disappeared.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was completely unexpected, though it should not have been. We were all so elated to get off the rappel that we forgot about everything else. We forgot about the solar warming occurring on the snow-filled west faces above us. We forgot about the avalanche cycle from the past few days that followed the sun’s path. We forgot that we needed to keep moving, quickly, to get out of steep terrain. Until that moment we had been so tuned-in to the snowpack, so cognizant of the hazard that surrounded us. But in our relief at being off of a frustrating and mildly scary rappel we became complacent about the known hazard that had occupied our attention. And now Jud was missing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">__________</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Bugaboos-to-Roger’s Pass ski traverse begins at the Conrad Kane hut below the hulking granite of Bugaboo Spire and heads north across the Purcells to the Selkirks, finishing with a traverse of two huge pancake-flat glaciers, the Deville and Illecillewat Nevés, and a long descent to Roger’s. Covering over 100 km with more than 10,000 meters of climbing it is a total “skier’s traverse” flush with multiple long, north-facing, steep powder descents and challenging skinning. The entire traverse occurs in or under avalanche terrain, and requires constant assessment and management. I f conditions turn unstable midway through the trip the only option is to bail down a 40 km overgrown logging road in one of the river valleys that pour down from the abundant snow in the high country.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPuycBnJSwDM3ocNnRYnc3htv_rrRJJq3YnlpWYMIOYw2uZU52E_1cMllj_pxC6XdvZY1Ic5Wtcd-rlUwHk1Kzlv2mdjBalSEdq4h0WAk6JE4wbMGw9MiYX23pC5G3L083ya_Hk9EWbvQ/s1600/0004291-R01-014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPuycBnJSwDM3ocNnRYnc3htv_rrRJJq3YnlpWYMIOYw2uZU52E_1cMllj_pxC6XdvZY1Ic5Wtcd-rlUwHk1Kzlv2mdjBalSEdq4h0WAk6JE4wbMGw9MiYX23pC5G3L083ya_Hk9EWbvQ/s1600/0004291-R01-014.jpg" height="432" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Skinning through the Bugaboos.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUUHeMlatuIgujawLGoBRbQDx4LzqkBsyp56G7nGx3dpk4RyRSuvRn8gb7vCYl-vidrIePiYA7BWUPa1UgISIG9ZOvNxV2gZWjXe3fsxsLykOevHEvOllZdPwtkYY4rH_Ae7Wr0QJt6-b/s1600/0004291-R01-017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUUHeMlatuIgujawLGoBRbQDx4LzqkBsyp56G7nGx3dpk4RyRSuvRn8gb7vCYl-vidrIePiYA7BWUPa1UgISIG9ZOvNxV2gZWjXe3fsxsLykOevHEvOllZdPwtkYY4rH_Ae7Wr0QJt6-b/s1600/0004291-R01-017.jpg" height="320" width="216" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And making our exit.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was a late addition to a trip put together by my buddy Jeff and some friends of his from Nelson, BC. They had spent the last couple of months pouring over maps and arranging our mid-route food cache so that by the time I arrived in Nelson all that was left was to become acquainted with eachother before starting out. Jud and Jay lived together outside of Nelson in a house that Jay had just bought, with parking in the front lawn and a grease pit in the backyard. Together with Christian, a recent immigrant from Denmark, they spent the winter living on “E.I.” (employment insurance), towing each other into the backcountry around Nelson with sometimes-functional sleds, poaching the cat-skiing operations’ powder, and staying in as many of the area’s prolific backcountry huts as possible. As a whole, they turned out to be strong, fast skiers who knew the area intimately, and had spent the winter with their heads in the snow assessing stability while skiing the ample steeps offered by the Kootenays.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our trip began at the CMH Bugaboos Lodge, where the lovely waitresses took pity on us as we gawked at the spread enjoyed by paying clients. After eating our fill of gourmet sandwiches and cookies, we boarded a helicopter for a brief ride to the Kane Hut. With the departure of the helicopter came utter stillness, and deliciously quiet cold as we gazed up at the spires towering overhead. Skiing into the Bugaboos is absolutely spectacular. We skinned through creamy powder, surrounded by world-class alpine climbing, but for us the rock was merely the backdrop behind our reason for being there. We wanted soft snow, cold weather, and to ski past the next horizon. We dreamed of sweet turns and, given the remoteness of the route, we hoped to see nobody else during our two weeks out.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW1-UqSdJCPaZQT6s0cxgwfZ3cu1Lm7WP6uNR7Ym9wNOXU6aFIo-kwlJb2wNcVOfRJl9FQQ3ik04q9LOfQ-KpklwcprUu6oj0Qw0ex1P_xXDNwqLqlFLics0iPzbJQUk1ts0o24Jd203Gi/s1600/0004291-R01-031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW1-UqSdJCPaZQT6s0cxgwfZ3cu1Lm7WP6uNR7Ym9wNOXU6aFIo-kwlJb2wNcVOfRJl9FQQ3ik04q9LOfQ-KpklwcprUu6oj0Qw0ex1P_xXDNwqLqlFLics0iPzbJQUk1ts0o24Jd203Gi/s1600/0004291-R01-031.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fast powder, somewhere in the Purcells.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As the trip progressed, we fell into a rhythm that worked pretty well for us: up at 6am, moving later than we wanted but not too late, travel until 6 or 7 in the evening, eat dinner, go to sleep. Repeat. We found fantastic powder on the north aspects, and excellent firm-snow skinning on the south. It felt good, comfortable to be out together. Through all extremes of weather, from blistering sun to high winds and heavy snowfall, we worked efficiently together, helping each other out when it was needed, rotating through the lead and traveling at a steady pace, making avalanche hazard and route-finding decisions as a team. We also discussed our past decisions; were they good decisions? Did we miss anything? Would we make the same choices again, given the information present at the time? Most often, we were happy with the choices we had made, and comfortable with how we managed hazards. When we weren’t, we tried to glean learning from the experience, and apply it to future situations.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDuYkdM87TFdwxe9b0yrp5s7ES1BiAh5M_aVyWuKaDmAwlIHFjWugwMxFAOZ_yLsVLzyzZ4HWJR7t_xf7-qNz-dbveCjMD19o9SDk4_kgoPaoUUqa4r5fbHlJB-kTNnUoRB2QkFlA0Wih/s1600/0004293-R01-030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDuYkdM87TFdwxe9b0yrp5s7ES1BiAh5M_aVyWuKaDmAwlIHFjWugwMxFAOZ_yLsVLzyzZ4HWJR7t_xf7-qNz-dbveCjMD19o9SDk4_kgoPaoUUqa4r5fbHlJB-kTNnUoRB2QkFlA0Wih/s1600/0004293-R01-030.jpg" height="270" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Weathering the trip's first storm.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWipVKJexD18-jTHoGZO0i6wAl5mtJ7jdGoNif7hCaqJ1qzSOYslcxO2PJoLv5wnhAcJR9oyaHx58Uct6s8WTVZ9lHAL7tyYWUHgNEJD4fBJnvTJSksuPYxM2W5ZUg9ZPFh_ySLgseI8ii/s1600/0004292-R01-018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWipVKJexD18-jTHoGZO0i6wAl5mtJ7jdGoNif7hCaqJ1qzSOYslcxO2PJoLv5wnhAcJR9oyaHx58Uct6s8WTVZ9lHAL7tyYWUHgNEJD4fBJnvTJSksuPYxM2W5ZUg9ZPFh_ySLgseI8ii/s1600/0004292-R01-018.jpg" height="200" width="135" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Springtime conditions along the Duncan River.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After weathering a storm at the International Hut, we crossed over to the Duncan River watershed and dropped 4500’ from cold alpine powder to wet, isothermal spring snow in the valley. Crossing the Duncan would mark our passage from the Purcells to the Selkirks, and the finish of our traverse. In order to get up to the route across the Selkirks, however, we put in a day of skinning that began with wet bushwhacking and ended with a bootpack to Beaver Pass through thigh-deep powder. After a cold, windy night on the pass, we skied down to the Duncan Nevé using windows of visibility in a whiteout. “Is the bergschrund filled-in there?” “Can you see if it goes?” Jay volunteered to be the guinea pig, and we breathed a huge sigh of relief as he ripped turns past the bergschrund and skied far out into the basin beyond. Once we all cleared the slope, we built a quinzhee that became our home for 3 days as 70 mph gusts screamed past outside and 50cm of was blown past. At one point, the wind threw Jud to the ground while he was trying to reinforce the walls sheltering our kitchen.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7d6aHg8u5e7GWoWi2Kvh63j0Ze26Xxwqusa6zUvpeI1AzMeLAwl1f7sMuBZJUzeHWVawj-E59uHzhNko2Fl8EyuJhN2Yb0F3XsFtFF42BzHql5zwxOC-9YHPFCTvCMuBDS5FRGMYOBai/s1600/0004292-R01-003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7d6aHg8u5e7GWoWi2Kvh63j0Ze26Xxwqusa6zUvpeI1AzMeLAwl1f7sMuBZJUzeHWVawj-E59uHzhNko2Fl8EyuJhN2Yb0F3XsFtFF42BzHql5zwxOC-9YHPFCTvCMuBDS5FRGMYOBai/s1600/0004292-R01-003.jpg" height="400" width="280" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Recovering from the storm. (Avalanches on Sugarloaf Mountain in the background.)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYTZichBiXCBq_jbH8r4uupq9Ff6huR0rYoxD1fvKbd9zwooNaMuoRCeS2YHP7H4OdEYJSEAwrYmDqUCuOiJ7w0AoyJMf1RY_EyHTEeAH3xLRTpsUUvUBP3BEVE1n6b3Q3rYLm7XplFJHF/s1600/0004292-R01-009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYTZichBiXCBq_jbH8r4uupq9Ff6huR0rYoxD1fvKbd9zwooNaMuoRCeS2YHP7H4OdEYJSEAwrYmDqUCuOiJ7w0AoyJMf1RY_EyHTEeAH3xLRTpsUUvUBP3BEVE1n6b3Q3rYLm7XplFJHF/s1600/0004292-R01-009.jpg" height="432" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking back at our camp on the glacier. (Below the peak, and just to the left.)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All of the new loading from the storm brought dramatically different avalanche conditions, as we witnessed when a size D4 slab ripped off the west face of Sugarloaf Mountain and traveled a half-kilometer across the glacier. We tried to make a route work past the northeast shoulder of Sugarloaf but it felt bad, so we made the tough call to drop 5500’ back down to the valley and ski around to the Grand Glacier, and a different access to the Deville Nevé. This was the only part of the route that we had to circumvent, and it added 10km and 5000’ of climbing to the route total. Not crushing, but certainly a bummer. During this descent and the trip around to the Grand, we watched as the sun worked the new snow and started a predictable daily avalanche cycle, with avalanches ripping a couple of hours after a given aspect received sun. Back to traveling on frozen snow, either early or well after it had refrozen late in the day.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTY-tZKhrIJbLuXKoJm7wXtrvWaOYXQmZLebUNFGTNOXH2yLs060rKpFvVRfA0wsH6POw32OxxjFYSPnQNHwn0iAv472g-taQt_fEKGxLnHxMBms4gKdvAemctGNn60AqU7AVyGNDBoZBn/s1600/0004292-R01-019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTY-tZKhrIJbLuXKoJm7wXtrvWaOYXQmZLebUNFGTNOXH2yLs060rKpFvVRfA0wsH6POw32OxxjFYSPnQNHwn0iAv472g-taQt_fEKGxLnHxMBms4gKdvAemctGNn60AqU7AVyGNDBoZBn/s1600/0004292-R01-019.jpg" height="270" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Waking up to a lovely morning before the climb to the Devile Nevé.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig8VFSbmfJHZOFVLbxJHO4ZgwVTCSPfraLf51mQgzEuxOxJlo0cEwQVY540UMtIz2I4QJv6eu3L1MEuT-fyompWU6eP3Cfb0QDDxw5irZtOgLR5MPfU0G-D_Wc-Lqn9_hwc-mzh9-xHCD2/s1600/0004292-R01-030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig8VFSbmfJHZOFVLbxJHO4ZgwVTCSPfraLf51mQgzEuxOxJlo0cEwQVY540UMtIz2I4QJv6eu3L1MEuT-fyompWU6eP3Cfb0QDDxw5irZtOgLR5MPfU0G-D_Wc-Lqn9_hwc-mzh9-xHCD2/s1600/0004292-R01-030.jpg" height="432" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The five of us on the Deville--me, Jeff, Jud, Christian, and Jay.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The night before our climb to the Deville was probably the most spectacular of the trip. Alpenglow lit up the Grand Glacier basin around us until late in the evening, and we all slept out under a starry sky. We woke early, with the stars still shining above, and climbed the south-facing slopes to the Deville as the sun rose and turned the snow around us to a rosy gold color. It was by far the best bootpacking of the trip—firm, frozen snow averaging about 40 degrees. Great climbing. At the crest of the Deville Neve, a pancake of a glacier 5km in length, we took a group picture under bluebird skies with the peaks around Roger’s Pass in the background. The end of the trip was in sight, and we were giddy with its closeness. </span><br />
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AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224846903145320303.post-67912119106148057792013-10-19T07:29:00.000-07:002015-08-31T21:47:24.299-07:00¡Muchas Graçias!<span style="font-size: large;">Thanksgiving is still a ways off, but I feel the need to express my gratitude to the people and companies that supported me through a pretty amazing season of racing. Without them this whole thing wouldn't have happened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So without further ado many, many thanks:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_5dTZyFMwsI3q691MoRon7lbl1AlQ9dUtb16hkh7fYAiiAHCPgqkpYrkx0Kb4-fnFsr_X37r0CuAChu7aRRp91gZgz2qRfBG-jGfaOcw9K4Z_gaWdeCMiS-03XACT5m1MFMyYr5PKBvq/s1600/IMG_6686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_5dTZyFMwsI3q691MoRon7lbl1AlQ9dUtb16hkh7fYAiiAHCPgqkpYrkx0Kb4-fnFsr_X37r0CuAChu7aRRp91gZgz2qRfBG-jGfaOcw9K4Z_gaWdeCMiS-03XACT5m1MFMyYr5PKBvq/s1600/IMG_6686.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To Erica, for being my supreme supporter and manager, for the Camelbak hand-ups, for yelling at me to drink more, and for inspiring me to ride faster. For accommodating the training hours; the weekends devoted to racing; the late dinnertimes; my inability to stay awake past 9pm; the weight-loss (I'm no longer a 195-pound beefcake); my finicky diet preferences; the financial burden of entry fees, travel costs, and gear purchases; and my (excessive?) focus on bikes and biking for most of the year.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDKlM7uGGW3ahrtSebcPejzI7vX9f6SncGQgTHfX_Mdi5ZsYiG2uxfBwr3NZImO5yYP2yrAMhbcWkmDblUPY1uCoj0-lX5NkjJvbJxJQp99tequz3L9thQQWGVFU0LHzyyEk5YG-EAygH/s1600/IMG_1845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDKlM7uGGW3ahrtSebcPejzI7vX9f6SncGQgTHfX_Mdi5ZsYiG2uxfBwr3NZImO5yYP2yrAMhbcWkmDblUPY1uCoj0-lX5NkjJvbJxJQp99tequz3L9thQQWGVFU0LHzyyEk5YG-EAygH/s1600/IMG_1845.jpg" height="400" width="306" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To Rue, for not chewing the crap out of the house when I'm out for long rides that she can't participate in. And for coming with me when she can.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQM58oFrkMrJpyNjFX7ye94_RvXQ7kiSqiGJSZeYzzBq1K6CGd2uEvqQco7qVTuFWypB_j-68kX_vz3Ydou-ivoiVsKQRFKY95x2F3eCowBMo_78g0TNDKR0uPsdBIYoKg_peN1_GQoTJh/s1600/_MG_1587.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQM58oFrkMrJpyNjFX7ye94_RvXQ7kiSqiGJSZeYzzBq1K6CGd2uEvqQco7qVTuFWypB_j-68kX_vz3Ydou-ivoiVsKQRFKY95x2F3eCowBMo_78g0TNDKR0uPsdBIYoKg_peN1_GQoTJh/s1600/_MG_1587.jpg" height="285" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To my parents, for their endless support, encouragement, and instigation of my drive to compete in these ridiculous athletic pursuits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">To Missy White, who donated the airline miles that allowed me to compete at the <a href="http://ajplayingwithgravity.blogspot.com/2013/09/fools-on-wheels.html" target="_blank">Fool's Gold 100</a>. And to Gary Faris, whose contribution helped Erica join me there.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpxdznURudXrzet0Qin3y9myMiOYlkeChf_aDvRVVrfGb8P5d90_b-sTd8Cr9-yN_tujuFwV63uCZpJmEBUOCaA7b2ViKPwF_RC8OVYkRdhYQx27ritVye723KaFlo-DQMODRCzhO-5r3D/s1600/302649_149164275172259_3818007_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpxdznURudXrzet0Qin3y9myMiOYlkeChf_aDvRVVrfGb8P5d90_b-sTd8Cr9-yN_tujuFwV63uCZpJmEBUOCaA7b2ViKPwF_RC8OVYkRdhYQx27ritVye723KaFlo-DQMODRCzhO-5r3D/s1600/302649_149164275172259_3818007_n.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is an outdated photo of the crew, but it's the best I could find. Pretty stunning shot!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Mark Fisher</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To my cohorts at <a href="http://www.cesolar.com/" target="_blank">Creative Energies</a>, for finding space in the truck to bring my bike with us when we're working on the road, and for shaping a creative work schedule to allow me the time off for traveling and racing.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpFdxl7kgzFLw1fK9q4EWE6xEyWz68erIESfHUyYzTVCD462_2_vclbttymD35TNFV0dkm9hTd3O9Fa5fkVpMWz0Ux9QwmBW5zZSh7Cp6qLuhrv0NZw6A0ZFdQarl0BdheW6tn-udwwLC/s1600/photo_dan_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpFdxl7kgzFLw1fK9q4EWE6xEyWz68erIESfHUyYzTVCD462_2_vclbttymD35TNFV0dkm9hTd3O9Fa5fkVpMWz0Ux9QwmBW5zZSh7Cp6qLuhrv0NZw6A0ZFdQarl0BdheW6tn-udwwLC/s1600/photo_dan_1.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To <a href="http://www.streubelphysicaltherapy.com/" target="_blank">SuperDan</a>, whose coaching helped me find success this season, and whose therapy has helped me find relief from less successful experiences.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcer6n3QG1lzvEtSARz1CBD1M6WvOgEzG2DBTHLq0w4_pYyOaQimIKyV7lFY4urRsulGTAfUIHMOosvmBeaKZBO2XYF135XkZwoPPVORjKSgM5mzFJ1E8MjOIrvppSsSSwPTcjaPIHVktS/s1600/IMG_7265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcer6n3QG1lzvEtSARz1CBD1M6WvOgEzG2DBTHLq0w4_pYyOaQimIKyV7lFY4urRsulGTAfUIHMOosvmBeaKZBO2XYF135XkZwoPPVORjKSgM5mzFJ1E8MjOIrvppSsSSwPTcjaPIHVktS/s1600/IMG_7265.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/index.php" target="_blank">Pivot Cycles</a>, for the <a href="http://www.pivotcycles.com/bikes/detail/12" target="_blank">LESter</a>--the ultimate singlespeed ripper--and for their constant encouragement. This is far and away the most fun bicycle I've ever ridden.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTV78LqARknep97i1pJDX0LKmGMvkwliLU5rSd1ZTYUqW7YJaYlKP0TgtcQgoXFwOdjm4dUasPxMYWlQoH-oiKghGbZfYnrXGuZdAyEaEQh6UDTCOTmF47N5m9iWZWPGJj921OeI6KMSl9/s1600/IMG_7266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTV78LqARknep97i1pJDX0LKmGMvkwliLU5rSd1ZTYUqW7YJaYlKP0TgtcQgoXFwOdjm4dUasPxMYWlQoH-oiKghGbZfYnrXGuZdAyEaEQh6UDTCOTmF47N5m9iWZWPGJj921OeI6KMSl9/s1600/IMG_7266.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To <a href="http://www.amclassic.com/en/" target="_blank">American Classic</a>, for this sweet <a href="http://www.amclassic.com/en/products/mtb-wheels/mtb-29-tubeless-single-speed" target="_blank">Singlespeed Wheelset</a>. I've beat the hell out of these things, but they're still running smooth and true. And they're light!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJipM0TodQQgXjZSxOZ_dBeJVXibF8mWbGEs5wzvrzwG3U5UaHpu7I9uIBzKpIcJoRiimOFyAiKR_q0OLqnQWveCDAuEn11wIfnerSZaZtG6I0G3Nz00K9gislqrjEV5iKGLxh-GH-YTE/s1600/IMG_7264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJipM0TodQQgXjZSxOZ_dBeJVXibF8mWbGEs5wzvrzwG3U5UaHpu7I9uIBzKpIcJoRiimOFyAiKR_q0OLqnQWveCDAuEn11wIfnerSZaZtG6I0G3Nz00K9gislqrjEV5iKGLxh-GH-YTE/s1600/IMG_7264.jpg" height="358" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To <a href="http://www.endlessbikes.com/" target="_blank">Endless Bikes</a>, for their sick singlespeed cogs. They're LIGHT, attractive, and remarkably durable! I rode and raced this one hard for 5 months before deciding that it was time to swap out for a fresh one. That's far more riding than I've gotten out of any heavy steel cogs.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjztQR3v4DZY76DwS2ms2QXfK0tO1ygGrH-ZnQEjvE3iS3x2UZKEFNW-CxrV6RuU6-0UtJw1pRLB8Z1RtztnzcRDJyCg4s2qRHaM_UInJ8Y16DvuEHEakmogGT24Z0n8ykiEv-EPfLLcSCM/s1600/IMG_7270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjztQR3v4DZY76DwS2ms2QXfK0tO1ygGrH-ZnQEjvE3iS3x2UZKEFNW-CxrV6RuU6-0UtJw1pRLB8Z1RtztnzcRDJyCg4s2qRHaM_UInJ8Y16DvuEHEakmogGT24Z0n8ykiEv-EPfLLcSCM/s1600/IMG_7270.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To <a href="http://loadedusa.com/" target="_blank">Loaded Precision Products</a>, for a variety of lightweight, strong, and attractive bits and pieces. They complete my bike.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDLGfDSbSW6ZtLQHML39p3pFYQrksgfYgJ34u1ve5P5i00YDZcw3D1hWSNqcH9Tiigk5DRLwEG33nZJEKTDLJDZ91lEnSkwaNQ7oNbVnPkub5FaO1rW3aqdnbgD0SqByqGejcOIYM58qr/s1600/mountain-khakis.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDLGfDSbSW6ZtLQHML39p3pFYQrksgfYgJ34u1ve5P5i00YDZcw3D1hWSNqcH9Tiigk5DRLwEG33nZJEKTDLJDZ91lEnSkwaNQ7oNbVnPkub5FaO1rW3aqdnbgD0SqByqGejcOIYM58qr/s1600/mountain-khakis.png" height="132" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To <a href="https://www.mountainkhakis.com/" target="_blank">Mountain Khakis</a>, for helping keep me dressed. It's important to have pants.</span><br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYDuhHCjVVr1JatUXWRrCVQeviDM31amGmwhiB1LUHZVaHlliFGKiWVqMVCXWDldvBKYIU6sdNQm-8YAmWGucvPXtmIonF6DASAqTLkQbDvbCVwWQktzf5I6qYcu_vDi50sQSWJAGAMVh/s1600/Fitzy's.jpg" height="96" width="640" /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To the awesome people at <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wGV_MIMtyzQ&list=FLcKstcwVw3nMLX7MnnQk0Sw" target="_blank">Fitzgerald's Bicycles</a> </span>(it's worth clicking on the link!)<span style="font-size: large;">, my favorite bike shop on the planet, and to our amazing team--what passionate, motivated, supportive riders!</span><span style="font-size: large;"> Thank you for believing in me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And finally, to the cycling community! I have gotten to connect with so many phenomenal people in the last couple of years, and my life is richer for it. Thank you for the good energy, and for inspiring me to ride faster and race harder. I can't wait to get out there again with you all next year.</span>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12587639859372097742noreply@blogger.com0