Little Elf

Another year has almost come to a close and Christmas is upon us once again. For a lot of people, the holidays are a time when there are traditions that they like to follow. I, interestingly enough, am one of those people. While I haven’t been carrying this tradition for very long, it’s one that I make sure not to miss. This time of the season I enjoy listening to an excerpt of a reading from a collection of holiday stories that is played on the radio.

Each year, that ultra liberal hippie radio station NPR plays a reading of David Sedaris’ Santaland Diaries. I have read the actual short story but nothing is quite like having the author himself retell the tale of his former employment as a department store elf during the Christmas season. The emphasis and inflection is where it should be and really makes the story come alive.

As I’ve gotten older, the traditions I grew up with have started to fade away. This isn’t anyone’s fault and I’m not complaining, it’s just that times have changed, schedules have gotten busier, and my nieces and nephews are now the center of attention for the holidays, which is where it should be. I think it’s time for me to start establishing my own traditions, and so far the adventures of Crumpet are definitely a funny way to kick off the season.

Fresh Tracks

And so it begins. Enough snow has finally been created for the latest installment of what will hopefully be another banner year on the slopes. Last year we had one of the best seasons in recent memory so it will be difficult to top, but it’s been wicked cold the last few weeks which, if it continues, should ensure a proper base stays around. This weekend marked my first turns of the season but I was woefully unprepared.

While I knew the season was starting, somehow it snuck up on me. On Sunday morning I scurried around my house in what appeared to be an explosion of gear. I was running from room to room locating stuff that I had methodically stored away at the end of last year. The hard part was not only remembering where everything was, but trying to remember what I needed.

When I finally left my house I had two bags loaded with just about every piece of cold weather clothing I could get my hands on. Fortunately I loaded my snowboard in the car the night before so I wouldn’t forget that critical implement of the day. I also made sure to leave my boots by the back door so they would make the journey as well.

Overall, the conditions were decent for man-made pow. I got in a goodly number of turns but didn’t over do it because let’s face it, there’s a lot more season to go. I’m already planning some big trips out west so that will help extend my season. Finally, I figured I should give some love to my skiing friends so enjoy the picture while you can.

Plumbing for Dollars

Since buying my house I’ve been compiling a long list of projects and other tasks that I want to accomplish. This includes demolishing things, building things, and changing things to meet my needs. One of the recent projects I decided to take on was installing a wash tub in my basement where a janky little (mostly dysfunctional) sink currently exists. Sure it’s a nice sink and was probably fancy in its day, but now, I need something that is more utilitarian. Oh yeah, and the existing sink leaks too.

In order to properly install a new wash tub, I have to do some minor plumbing. See, there are no shut-off valves or any type of modern plumbing in place now. While I’m not a card carrying plumber by any stretch, I decided that I would assume that role too. Plus, it gave me an excuse to buy a torch and other neat tools that everyone should have.

I think it’s important to note that I haven’t actually started in on this project yet aside from buying the necessary equipment. My plan, at this point, is to get the old sink out of the way and install the shut-off valves. In order to get that far, I’ll need to shut off the water to the entire house so if something happens to go wrong (and how would that be possible?) I won’t have any water. I’m a little hesitant to start, but I’m fairly confident that I’ll be able to pull this off. Of course I might also end up flooding my basement and then I’ll have something really interesting to write about next week.

Red & Black Plaid

Well, it has finally started to get cold in the SC. I think this time the cold is finally going to stay around for a little while. We’ve had a few days of flurries but nothing to get too excited about, at least not yet. It’s been more of some playful eye batting then a full-on date, but hopefully that will soon change and the slopes will be covered with a deep blanket of white stuff, even if it is man-made.

Since the cold has decided to stay around, I thought this weekend would be a good opportunity to get the house in “winter mode.” That means putting in the storm windows, putting plastic on windows, cleaning the garage to make room for the car, and stacking as much firewood as possible in the hopes that I will actually have enough wood to use the stove this winter and keep my house at a cozy 62 (instead of the standard double nickels).

See, I have this crazy notion that each winter I’m going slog off into the woods and fell a bunch of trees; then cut, split, and stack all this lumber to use as fuel to heat my house all winter long. Sure, it can be fun to run a chainsaw and swing an axe but let’s face it, I’m no lumberjack. With any luck I’ve got enough wood to last me through the hardest part of the winter but next year I might just have to break down and buy a few cords of wood like most normal people do.

More than Enough

So as promised, this is my follow-up to last week’s post regarding that beloved little bike ride in Pittsburgh known as the Dirty Dozen. As I mentioned before, this is an event that occurs on the Saturday after Thanksgiving and takes riders up thirteen of the steepest hills Pittsburgh has to offer. Here’s how things went.

I guess I had a preconceived notion of what steep hills were. After all, I’ve been riding a bike for a little while and I’ve been on some intensely mountainous rides. However, nothing I have ever done before was able to prepare me for the hellish inclines that I encountered on Saturday. I think it’s fair to say that I was woefully unprepared for these hills.

Unless you’ve actually seen the hills that are on the DD course, you don’t physically have the ability to imagine how steep they actually are. Add to that the fact that you’ve got almost 200 people trying to ride up these vertical streets that are no wider than about a car length and you have all the makings for a cocktail of pain and anguish.

The bottom line is I survived, barely. I made it up every hill on my first try and didn’t go down once. My heart almost exploded out of my chest on more than one occasion, and on the final hill I was going so slow that I think it was just one long track stand. My arms hurt worse than my legs from pulling on the bars and walking hasn’t been that easy. I should also say that Jared almost won Canton Avenue, but lost to Steevo (who won the DD, again) by about a half a wheel length and Colin took fifth overall for the day. This could be one event that I don’t ever want to do again, but it surely was a lot of sadistic fun.

A Cornucopia of Pain

In less than a week, we folks in the good ‘ole You Es of Ay will be celebrating that wonderful holiday where everyone gorges themselves on too much food and then either sleeps, watches football, or falls asleep while watching football. That’s right, I’m talking about Thanksgiving. This year, like most, I’ll be playing the role of pilgrim and allowing others to take care of me and make sure I don’t starve. Luckily, I won’t have to wear a hat with a giant buckle on it.

Instead of spending this holiday with my family, I’ll be traveling to Pittsburgh to spend the day with Jared, Caroline, and a cavalcade of other vagabonds that happen to venture into western PA. Oddly enough, Thanksgiving isn’t intended to be the highlight of my trip. That will come in the form of me, a bike, and thirteen of the steepest hills Pittsburgh has to offer. It’s a little bike race/ride known as the Dirty Dozen.

For close to thirty years, cyclists have gathered on the Saturday after Thanksgiving to test their grit by racing and riding the DD. Cyclists race to the top of each hill, but then wait for everyone else before continuing on to the next hill therefore making it both a race and a ride. I think at this point it’s important for me to point out that I will NOT be in the group that is racing. I will be in the group that is merely trying to survive, and in this case I do mean survive. Granted, I’ve said that in the past when talking about rides or races but in this case I truly mean it.

See, the hills in the DD are beyond steep. I don’t think any hill is less than a 20 percent grade with the steepest, Canton Avenue, topping out at 37 percent. Did mention it’s also cobblestone? Well, it is. One of the rules of this little Saturday morning spin is that all hills must be ridden. Therefore if you fall or stop or cough up a lung and put down a foot, you have to go to the bottom and start over. I’m not entirely sure why I agreed to participate in this test of pure insanity but this year I will be thankful if I get back to the SC with my legs still attached.

Top Drawer

This weekend I got to experience something in the SC that I’ve never done before. I was fortunate enough to get all fancied up and attend a gallery opening, for actual art, by real-life artists. Now I realize this might not be a big deal for some people out there but for me, in my little world, this was a first. See, I’ve never been invited to a gallery opening (or any kind of opening for that matter). While some people around here like to think that we’re an upper-crust cosmopolitan town that competes with New York and Los Angeles as a hub of cultural activity, the truth is that State College is an odd oasis in the middle of forests and farms that manages to attract a few tidbits of civility from time-to-time. That made this past weekend’s opening that much more special.

The opening at ion was an invitation only event which added to the air of sophistication. Also, because I knew one the artists I felt even more significant (but clearly that didn’t get me anywhere). Upon arrival, I glad-handed with the few other well-dressed individuals that I knew and set out to browse the various artistic mediums that were represented; all of which were for sale.

Very quickly, a few things dawned on me. First, I had no idea what I was looking at. I realize that art is subjective and means different things to different people but let’s be honest; I have no worldly idea about art. Eventually though, I began to recognize why I most likely don’t know anything about art: the price. While I don’t doubt the time, energy, and talent that is required to develop some of the items I was looking at, I most certainly wouldn’t be dropping two large for a chair that I may or may not be able to sit on. Regardless of my own personal shortcomings in the art-world, it was still nice to feel like a bon vivant and see some of my friends dressed in something other than a chamois.

A Little Taller

So my friend Cathy is starting to see the light at the end of her full-on remodeling tunnel. It’s been about a month since things started and she no longer has a carport, but what she has gained is lots of dust, knock-out fumes, plywood floors with sections of hardwood, radiant natural light, a third bedroom, and about 750 additional square feet of living space. And soon she’ll have a cavernous kitchen (compared to her old one) and boatloads of finish carpentry to perform.

Since the contractor has been at her house for so many weeks in a row, the workers have been leaving most of their tools so they don’t have to tote all those heavy utensils around (after all, a 22 ounce California framing hammer weighs about a pound and a half; seriously). Since Cathy’s build has finally arrived at the drywall stage, the workers have been using stilts. So I stopped by her house the other day to survey the progress and, if you’re anything like me (and may all that is good and holy help you if that’s actually the case, because let’s face it; you’re screwed) you walked over to said stilts, fumbled around with the buckles, and experienced life as a man that’s damn near eight feet tall.

While I might not be the tallest man alive, I have to admit, being that close to the ceiling was wicked cool. I contemplated buying really long pants and heading downtown but I thought that might be a little too weird (especially since Halloween was last weekend). Anyway, what I realized was that everyone should be able to walk around on stilts (and I mean quality stilts) for a little while. It’s a unique feeling to experience what it’s like to be that freakishly tall (and see all the dust on the tops of their picture frames).

Halloween Screw Ups

So today is Halloween. For most people, Halloween means getting dressed up as some kind of alter ego and, depending on your age, walking door-to-door in an attempt to fill a sack with candy, have an excuse to throw a party, or go out and about spreading mischief. For me, this year Halloween took on a whole new spin.

Each year, the powers that be in the SC get together to decide when to have the actual trick-or-treat night. Since October 31st falls on a Sunday this year, it was decided to have trick-or-treat night on Thursday. Why Thursday you ask? Well, Saturday night was the Penn State and Michigan football game and I guess people thought it would be a bad idea to send small children out for candy on one of the busiest weekends of the year.

There aren’t many kids that live in my neighborhood and I had been told that no one shows up looking for candy so I didn’t think much of the actual trick-or-treat night. What happened next will have a significant impact on every Halloween that occurs from here on out. As the sun started going down I noticed the streets filling up with kids going door-to-door looking for candy. This wouldn’t normally be a big deal, but there I was, sitting at home with not a single piece of candy in site. Reaching this disastrous conclusion I did what any respectable homeowner would do.

Recalling my childhood training, I began running around the house turning out all the lights. As any good kid knows, you don’t go to a house that is dark because they don’t have candy. Usually this means they are not home, but in my case it meant that I was afraid to have anyone come to the door. There I sat, in a pitch dark house for the allocated two hours of trick-or-treat night. It was highly embarrassing but at least next year I’ll be prepared to hand out candy.

Be Double E…

Once again, this weekend graced us with some unseasonable warm weather (at least for the end of October). With an all but full moon, we rallied the troops and planned a little camping trip. It was an all-star cast that included eight adults, three kids, and one dog. Since some of the kids were going to be first-time campers we chose a spot that would allow people to drive close or hike in depending on their prerogative.

Clay, Cathy, and I decided to hike in from the Little Flat Fire Tower. This would give us about three miles along the ridge to get out to the campsite. It was about seventy degrees when we set out so it was an ideal day for a light hike and camping excursion. The ridge was ablaze with colors and the views were spectacular as we made the hour long hike.

Once there, we gathered wood and started our obligatory fire and settled into camp. Slowly, the rest of the group trickled in and the merriment ensued. As the evening progressed, we made our way out the rocks to take in the moonlit views of Bear Meadows. It was truly an amazing site.

It was a fantastic night to be camping and everyone had a great time. We were out in the woods with a nice little fire for warmth, a slightly overcast yet moonlit night, and great company. We laughed and joked and just enjoyed everyone’s company. Hopefully it won’t take another year to get back out for another campout.

Refreshed

Don’t let the title of this post fool you. While I’d like to tell you a story of how I had a relaxing and casual weekend; the reality is that this weekend was no different than most. However, instead of spending time out in the woods being radical, I was spending time being “responsible.”

This weekend marked the annual refresher that I must attend to maintain my position in good standing with the Nation Ski Patrol. That basically means that I had to get up crazy early and drive an hour and a half to run through various scenarios that I might encounter in my day-to-day while patrolling the local ski hill. In reality I may never experience most of these scenarios presented, but there is definitely a lot of value in learning the variety of medical situations that could arise throughout the course of a season.

While I truly do appreciate the fact that this is a necessary evil and I whole heartedly admit that I need all the help I can get in having the basics drilled into my head, it would have been nice if this wasn’t a 70 degree weekend with abundant sunshine. See, we’re getting into mid October and that means that weekends like this are few and far between. It means that I’ll need to start changing my yard work schedule from mowing grass to splitting wood. More to the point though, I don’t feel like I’ve had adequate time to get in all the riding I’ve wanted, and that’s what really keeps me refreshed.

The Man With the Hammer

As is typical in the SC, this weekend brought about some fantastic October weather. The evenings were cool while the days were sunny and hovering around the mid seventies. This all adds up to the perfect recipe for mountain biking. With the leaves slowly letting go of green and giving way to golds, reds, and oranges; five of us gathered at the shale pits because as Brian likes to continuously point out, I only ever ride in Coopers Gap.

The plan was to ride some of the standard trails in the Coopers Gap area. We anticipated about four hours of riding and would see almost exclusively singletrack. I hadn’t been on my bike in about three weeks so I wasn’t sure how it was going to go but I was looking forward to the ride. Everything started out great and I was feeling strong. I was riding fast and choosing lines that allowed me to float over rocks and trees with little effort. Then about three hours in, there he was, waiting for me to come by so he could ruin my day.

The Man with the Hammer came out of nowhere and rocked my world (don’t worry mom, that’s just a euphemism). I bonked, hard. For those of you that don’t know what this is like, here’s a little taste. Take a bike. Get on this bike. Find a giant tub of mud. Put the bike (with you still astride) into said mud so that the wheels are completely covered. Now pedal. I was sapped. Nothing worked. It was a struggle just to turn over the pedals and I was losing.

Fortunately I wasn’t too far from the end and most of it was downhill. I coasted back to my car and found the rest of the group. They managed to get in a few more trail sections while I slowly pedaled in on the road. I was glad to get off my bike and be done. Even better were the beers that Rich brought to share.

The New

This past weekend I spent a few days at the New River Gorge in West Virginia. It was the 2010 Local Conservation Summit being hosted by the Access Fund and NRAC. Since I’m a member of the board for our Local Climbing Organization (C3PA) I thought it would be a good idea for me to attend.

Friday morning Scott, Ieva, Anders and I made our way down to the New for what would be a fun filled weekend with lots of climbers that are very passionate about their craft. I knew I would be one of the less apt climbers in the group but that didn’t matter to me as this was more of a reason to spend a few days hanging out with Scott, Ieva, and Anders and less about the actual event. Also, I thought it would be good for me to show my face around this group of people that I didn’t really know (and didn’t know me).

The event officially started on Friday evening with some general socializing but the real action didn’t happen until Saturday morning with formal presentations and an actual agenda of work to perform. We spent two days talking about climbing specific issues and working through problems that generally affect all the Local Climbing Organizations in one form or another. We also managed to fit a little climbing into the weekend on some really fantastic rock. Overall, I’d say it was a worthwhile trip but once again, I over did it and now I’m trying to make up for a lack of sleep. I guess it’s a good thing the work week has started again.

The Wedding; Part II

So as I mentioned before I was out in Montana last weekend for a wedding. There were about seven of us from both the SC and Pittsburgh that went out and we were all staying together so it was like a mini vacation under the guise of a wedding. I arrived on Friday afternoon and met up with Jared who had just come off a four day bender in Vegas, while the rest of the crew would be touching down at BZN around eleven o’clock that night. The wedding wasn’t until Sunday so we would have plenty of time to hang out and get acclimated to the area before the big event; or at least that was the plan.

Saturday’s agenda included a cookout for all the out-of-town guests, which was just about everyone and our little east coast crew was in charge of bringing drinks. We started the morning with a shopping spree and got what we felt was a sufficient amount of beer, soda, water, and assorted juices for the crowd. We procured more than enough to put a hurting on the suspension of the mini-van the seven of us were traveling in (or at least planned to travel in). As we were getting ready to depart, the van decided it didn’t want to start. Fortunately Brian’s parents were there (since they live there) and we were able to make a vehicle swap that allowed all seven passengers and four coolers full of assorted drinks to safely find the venue.

The next morning (Sunday) we were “recruited” (and I use the term loosely) to set up all the chairs in the alpine meadow where the ceremony was to be held. I was given a general idea of what was to happen the night before but no real strategy was established so we were on our own to determine the best location and set for the seventy plus chairs that would (hopefully) accommodate the guests. Everything must have been satisfactory because nothing was changed when we returned later for the actual wedding.

At this point I’ll skip ahead because let’s face it; a wedding is a wedding is a wedding. It was a very touching ceremony with tears and laughs and a backdrop that couldn’t be beat. The reception followed which was great as well. That brings us to Monday when there was a plan for a nice little hike that turned into a full-on scramble to the top of the peaks. At this point I think it’s important to note that I was woefully ill prepared for any kind of hike as the only shoes I had with me were my Pumas. While these would have been the perfect footwear for going out on the town, they were not ideally suited for a seven mile hike through the high mountains of Montana.

Following the hike (and a short soak in the hot tub) we proceeded to make our way to a classic Montana steakhouse in one of the many sleepy little towns. At said establishment, we embarked on a full out voracious festival of meat, soup, salad, bread, potatoes, beer, coffees, and desserts. When it was all said and done we had eaten almost half a cow. We then sluggishly made our way back to the house for some additional soak time and beers. After all, it was a vacation.

Tuesday morning and I got into an argument at about four thirty. I was upset that I was seeing him and he just wanted me gone. We reached a mutual agreement and I was at the airport and on my way back to the SC. I somehow managed to drag myself into work on Wednesday, but it wasn’t easy. In the end, everyone had a grand time (or at least seemed to) except for our uninvited guest, Jared’s neck. I guess it goes without saying but congratulations Nate and Ali. Thanks for a great time in Montana.

Hitchin’ A Ride

So I missed my Sunday night posting by a few days but I’ve been out in Montana since last Friday for the wedding of two very good friends. While I’m currently way too tired to provide a complete write-up, I’ll at least provide you with at least a little bit of what happened. I won’t give you all the goods, I’ll give you a few.

The ceremony was in the Montana wilderness which provided a spectacular backdrop and stunning vistas. There’s something to be said for elk bugling during the exchanging of vows while enjoying the warm sun in an alpine meadow. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced and may not get to again. Of course, a few PBRs while telling people where to park didn’t hurt either. We ate big steaks, went on hikes, made new friends, and soaked in the hot tub under the wide-open expanse of the Montana sky. Hopefully I’ll get my act together and provide the rest of the goods, but sometimes things are best left out in the woods.

Me and the Babes

Recently I was evaluating my lot in life. I’m starting to get a little older and a little more grown—up (but not necessarily acting like it). I’m still single (which isn’t as shocking as you might expect) and was trying to figure out why. Is this by choice? I seem to be a decent enough catch (or at least my friends lie to me and say so). I’m relatively well groomed, I have a good job that pays the bills, I appear to be a productive member of society; so what seems to be the missing link? I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just awkward around women.

Okay, so I do just fine around my female friends (hence the reason they think I’m a “nice guy”) but when it comes to a woman I might actually be interested in courting (I know that’s a bit 1920’s but in might come back) I don’t know how to act. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.

I blame this on a lack of dating throughout my younger life. I know it’s hard to believe but I haven’t had many of the girlfriends in my day and the majority of the women I have dated usually pursed me so it was easy. When it comes to me pursuing them, I’m quiet frankly just lost. I don’t know if there is a way for me to get over this but you never know, maybe I won’t need to and some woman will swoop in and sweep me off my feet. Anything is possible (even that).

A Change of Seasons

Well it’s happening again. The evenings are getting cooler and the days are getting shorter which can only mean that the seasons are starting to change. Not only are the yearly seasons changing, but, as I’m starting to find out, the housework seasons are changing as well. I’m finally wrapping up the summer yard work sessions and beginning to make my list of indoor projects.

I’ve had a busy summer and I’ve accomplished more than I expected but there are still a few lingering projects that need to be finished. One of which is the patio in my backyard. I spent this past weekend working on it and I have to say, I think it sucks. Patios are not easy to do and I tried my best to completely half-ass this one in an attempt to get it done. Sure, my intentions were good but in the end, I started running out of steam. It’s not necessarily intended to be a permanent fixture (so it most likely will be) and therefore I had less motivation to do a quality job (which is clearly evident).

I didn’t have time (or maybe desire) to completely finish the patio but I got far enough along to be happy. There will be a few more hours of work to get it completely finished but it’s nothing serious. I’ll also need to buy a few more tools and supplies which I’m not looking forward to doing because it’s hard to spend money on this patio considering how much I’ve already spent to get it this far. I guess I’ll spend another weekend doing what I can to finish the patio and make the most of it therefore completing another summer season trying to add some curb appeal.

What’s It Worth

Whether or not I care to admit it, I’m a gear whore. I love everything about it; the fit of a boot with a cushioned sole, the feel of a baselayer against the skin, the razor sharp edge on a finely tuned snowboard. I especially appreciate when gear is made well and thought has been put into the little details like a zipper pull.

Now that I’m a homeowner, my gear budget is all but non-existent. I accept that because now I have a place to keep all my gear. The part I don’t like is when I have to decide on buying gear or spending money on the house. I’ve entered a realm where I equate what gear I might be able to buy with what household items I could purchase for the same amount of money. It usually goes something like this: “I really need to get a new washer and dryer.” Of course, for the cost of the washer and dryer I could buy a new bike, which I also need (but not entirely).” “Even better, I could buy a new snowboard and have money left over for a new sleeping bag.”

I guess I should consider myself lucky to even have such dilemmas in my day-to-day. Still though, it would be nice to have a little extra cake to support my addiction to the Patagucci. I guess I’ll just need to plan a little better and budget for these inevitabilities because it would be a bit difficult trying to ride to town on a water heater.

Slipping Away

This weekend marked a few noticeable milestones that I don’t necessarily enjoy. First, the evening temperatures have been substantially lower than usual. Actually, I do like that because it’s great for sleeping. Some other noticeable events include the first few glints of change in the leaves, my yard is getting littered with the dreadful acorns from my oak, the local single A baseball team is about to close out their season, and the first college football games are just a few short days away. All of this adds up to summer slowly fading.

I don’t entirely mind the fact that there are only two more days until September. That means winter will be arriving soon and so will the snowboarding season. It’s just that it feel like I haven’t really had a chance to enjoy the summer yet. Fortunately, this weekend I was able to get in a few activities that are very summery.

The weather this weekend was spectacular. The mornings were brisk but by midday the temperatures were in the eighties and sunshine was abundant. I greeted Sunday morning early. The plan was to scoop Cathy, meet up with Brian and Spring, then head to the lake for some waterskiing, swimming, and bobbing around aimlessly. We were on the water by about nine thirty and wasted no time carving up the glassy conditions.

Unfortunately with weather like we had today the water gets crowded quickly which makes for a bumpy ride all around. We all managed to get some time on the skis before heading to a beach to swim and have some lunch. We splashed around for a few hours then decided to pack it in. It was a great way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon. Fortunately, I took home a souvenir that should keep that summery feeling around for a little while longer; a nice solid sunburn.

The Big Send Off

This weekend Scott & Betty had what will presumably be the last big party at their current house. In a couple of weeks they will be moving from the hinterlands of Halfmoon Township and joining the rest of us in the big city. While it wasn’t a large scale affair, it didn’t disappoint.

Things started out innocently enough with families and children playing gleefully in the yard with dogs and other benign activities. Of course, after the sun went down and the parents began to take their children home to bed, things started to go downhill. Then, before anyone knew what happened (or at least me for sure), the bottom fell out. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

I would, however, like to say to Em that I don’t think this is going to work for me. I’m feeling smothered and need a little space. Sorry you had to find out about it this way, but I think it’s in both of our interests.

A Break

I’ve been really tired lately. It’s as if I haven’t been able to get enough rest to keep me going through the week. I wasn’t exactly sure why I didn’t have any energy during the week but clearly something was off. I seemed to be getting a decent amount of sleep, I hadn’t changed my diet, but Monday through Friday I was having great difficulty dragging myself into the office. Then I realized what the cause of this fatigue might be.

See, on the weekends, I try to pack in as much activity as I can. I get up early, stay up late, and usually do something that uses a lot of energy. Whether it’s riding, yard work, traveling, or entertaining guests, I get very little rest on the weekends. I don’t typically notice that I’m at all tired because it’s my time and I want to use it to the fullest. Of course, when Monday morning rolls around I struggle to drag myself out of bed and into the office and this is typically the case for the next several days.

Finally, this weekend I decided to mix things up a bit. Saturday I was up really early, did a bunch of yard work, went on a mountain bike ride for about three hours, then went to an “End of Summer before the Students Come Back” party. This was a typical Saturday for me. Then on Sunday I decided to do nothing. I mean flat out absolutely nothing. Sure there was a plan for a ride, but it was raining in the morning so I spent the entire day on the couch. I napped a bit, watched some television, and basically did nothing and I’m very okay with that.

Trouble

This past weekend Nate made a return trip to the SC from Montana (with a brief stop for a conference in Pittsburgh). He decided to bring Jared and Bart along from Pittsburgh which meant the weekend would involve riding, drinking, chocolate milk, queso dip, steak, and Sega until the wee hours of the morning. To make matters worse, Brian was also joining in the fun.

Needless to say I have very little energy right now but here is a synopsis of the weekend. I got my ass handed to me on our mountain bike ride, spent way too long downtown, stayed up way to late getting schooled at NHL 95 by Jared, and I’ve been too tired to do much of anything today. I’m just glad they don’t make these visits a regular occurrence.

All Day Long

I woke up Saturday morning at about ten minutes until three (in the morning) from the sound of a car with a poorly attached muffler. This was earlier than I wanted but with the pending day’s events only a few short hours away I decided to get up and begin preparations for what would become one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. After all, Saturday marked the 10th running of the Wilderness 101.

The weather couldn’t have been more perfect for a race. At about 6:45 in the morning just over 300 people lined up to chase each other around the forest on mountain bikes covering a 101 mile course. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect as I’ve never ridden my mountain bike 101 miles in a day and I wasn’t fully convinced I was prepared for this undertaking. I’m not going to give you a blow-by-blow recap but I will provide a brief synopsis of my day.

I rode just about the entire distance alone and towards the back of the pack. I had several flat tires early that put me behind in both time and in general attitude. The fire road climbs were demoralizing but the single-track descents were pure joy and lifted my spirits. So what was the conclusion to my day? Well, I finished thus accomplishing my primary goal. Unfortunately I spent almost 13 hours on my bike. This was nearly twice as much time as the winner.

A lot of emotions are explored over the course of a 12 hour and 49 minute day in the saddle. The body and mind reach into places that you don’t know exist in order to endure the level of suffering that is required to complete a task of this magnitude. I pushed myself to limits I’d never before explored. When I finally crossed the finish line I was so excited that I wanted to keep riding but instead I decided it would be more enjoyable to get out of my chamois and have a beer.

Ready or Not…

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m racing (and I use the term very loosely) in the Wilderness 101 next weekend. I’m now officially six days away from the start on July 31st. Part of me is very excited while another part of me is a bit nervous. The problem is, I’m not entirely convinced that I’m ready to embark on this trip aboard the pain train.

In less than a week, I’ll be putting it all out on the fire roads and single track of the Rothrock and Bald Eagle State Forests for one hundred miles of mountain biking bliss. I like to think I’m a relatively fit individual; however I haven’t had as much time as I would like to train for the event. I think I have the mental capacity to push through the suffering, but I’m not entirely convinced about the physical part.

There are many different factors that will affect my performance from my bike to the what I eat, to how I sleep the night before, to the weather, to trail conditions, and just about anything else. With any luck, everything will go according to plan and I’ll finish in a respectable time (hopefully in daylight). How I feel afterwards will be another story. Maybe I’ll have a full report next Sunday, but then again, I might be too tired to get out of bed or even walk for that matter. Tune in next week to get a full report (or not).

Back To Reality

Well, our week of “Take the family to the beach” has finally ended and I’m safely back in the SC. A lot happened over the past week and, quite frankly, there is almost too much to talk about. It was one wild roller coaster ride that took us from singing songs one minute to full-on hysterical crying the next. We played mini-golf, celebrated two birthdays, played games, visited three boardwalks, enjoyed a lukewarm hot-tub, watched a house get completely framed next door, ate too much, drank too much, and somehow still managed to find time to get to the beach at least once every day (well, I did at least).

There were lots of good times and lots of bad times. There were a few occasions where I felt like packing up my car and looking for a hotel. After all, this was a complete departure from the “swinging single” life I lead in my day-to-day where I’m in control of what’s happening. I did take a break from the family to get a surfboard and meet some friends at Assateague Island so I could really get my ass handed to me by the ocean, but that was more about surfing than an escape. Of course it went a long way to making things easier when I returned to a house of crying children (and one or two adults).

Will I do it all again in another two years? If you asked me in a week I’d probably say 80/20 no way. Over time, however, the not-so-good events will fade away and I’ll only remember the enjoyable ones; those shining moments when the laughter was louder than the cries. Everyone will be a little older and hopefully a bit more civilized. While the question of a repeat performance is for another day in the distant future, a week on the sand in a boozy haze surrounded by bikini clad women will go a long way to influencing that answer.

Vacation

So as of yesterday I entered full-on into a fun filled and exciting week at the beach with my family. Now, usually when I go to the coast it’s nothing but beers, bloodies, margaritas, sun, sand, surf, and solitude. When I’m with my family, however, it’s all that except the latter. Based on the official tally there is one house, seventeen people, fourteen cases of beer, one case of wine, two bottles of vodka, and one bottle of tequila. I think that should at least get us through until Wednesday, but I’m not getting my hopes up.

The Hurt

One of the goals I’ve loosely set for myself this year is to participate in the Wilderness 101. It’s this little mountain bike race that visits the fire roads and single-track of the Bald Eagle and Rothrock State Forests; basically my backyard. It’s typically held at the end of July and covers 100 miles. The past several years I’ve volunteered for the race so I figured it’s about time to give it a go and see what it’s like from the other side.

Over the years I’ve ridden the whole course in various segments but never linked it all together in one day. This weekend, Brian and I decided to ride a bit of the course in preparation for the race. I wanted to gauge my fitness level and put in some miles so we settled on a loop that would take us on about half of the race route. Of course, riding with Brian I knew I was going to suffer, but Mother Nature also helped with that.

To say this weekend was hot is an understatement. It’s been brutally oppressive the last several days here in the SC. At times I felt like I was riding on the sun. Other times, I felt like I was riding in a blast furnace. I’m not a meteorologist, but I think at one point the temperature reached one billion degrees. Add to that the ridiculously dry weather we’ve had lately and it made the suck quotient rise exponentially.

When the ride was finished I was completely worked. My legs were almost black from all the dust sticking to me and my arms felt like wet noodles with lead weights for hands. I’m not sure what my legs felt like because they had no feeling left in them. We ended up logging about fifty miles over six hours. Some of it was really fun, but none of it was easy. I’m not sure what this means about my abilities to finish the 101 but no one needs to worry about me taking a podium spot.

Progress

This past weekend a major hurdle was crossed in the on-going saga that is my yard. Ever since I bought my house almost a year ago I’ve been continually working to provide a bit more curb appeal by clearing out some much neglected landscaping (and I use the term landscaping very loosely). The previous owners of my home were, how you say, not the most conscientious when it came to maintaining the yard and the growth. One severely unruly area was my side yard.

The side yard consisted of a thick growth of plants, shrubs, volunteer trees, vines, leaf litter, and just about anything else that you can imagine. It was about ten feet high about 100 feet long, and about ten feet wide. It blocked out all the light from my backyard as it was too thick to see through. At first I started trying to prune it but decided it would be easier to cut it all down, which I eventually did. Of course, the site prep (including stump removal, adding soil to fill holes, removing rocks, killing off weeds, etc.) kept me occupied for the past 11 months.

This past weekend it was time to replant the space with more appropriate vegetation to provide interest, color, and some light screening. Of course none of it would have been possible without the help of my brothers who know a thing or two about landscaping and plants. I gave them full control to select plants and provide guidance on placement and layout. My role was to pay for everything and chauffeur them around to get everything they said I needed.

In one full days time we managed to take a blank canvas and convert it to what will hopefully be a manageable and lush bed of fresh plants and grasses. While I personally am superbly happy with the way things turned out and how everything looks, I was getting additional validation from my neighbors passing by. Now I’ll have the rest of the summer to work on the numerous other projects on my list.

As Old As You Feel

This past weekend I made yet another return trip to my boy-hood home. This time it was for the wedding of a family friend. I haven’t seen the groom or his family since his sister got married four years ago so I decided to attend. Also, the majority of my family was going too so I felt some degree of obligation.

The ceremony was as expected. It was an outdoor wedding and it was crazy hot but it was short and soon everyone retired to an air conditioned room for the reception. On the walk to the reception hall I heard a familiar voice calling my name. It was an old friend from high school that I probably haven’t seen in ten years. Apparently his wife was friends with the bride which is why he was in attendance.

For a little back story, after graduating from high school I split town and attended college at Iowa State University. It was as far as I could get away where I still knew people that could help me out if I needed it (I have relatives in Iowa). After graduating from Iowa State, I moved to Georgia for work. This little jaunt around the country took about ten years of my life. During this chapter of my life I didn’t get back to my old stomping grounds very often. Most everyone else I grew up with stayed close by the ‘burg or have moved back.

As we reminisced about old times, I also got an update on who was doing what and where people were. As it turns out, most of the people I grew up with are now married and have kids that keep them on the move. I began comparing this to my life: I’m still single, living by myself, and spend all my free time adventuring with my friends. At first I began to feel as though I had missed out on something or wasn’t being “responsible.” Then I realized it was quite the opposite.

I might be doing things differently but I'm enjoying myself just as much. The way he made things sound was that all my fellow high school classmates were all old married couples. The funny thing is, I don’t consider myself old even though I’m the same age. I guess it’s all about perspective and from where I’m sitting, things are going just fine.

Priorities

As I’ve said in the past, State College is a happenin’ town and this weekend proved no different. Not only was there a big music festival with some really solid local bands, there was a bonzer mountain bike race through Rothrock State Forest, and several parties in my neighborhood. Being a (relatively) hip, single guy in such a cool locale with all these choices to occupy my time, I decided to leave town to attend the birthday party of an unrelated three-year-old at a glorified petting zoo.

Now granted, this was the daughter of my friends Alex and Andrea (from a few posts ago) and she is a cool little girl. However, Andrea had also invited our mutual friends Lisa and Amos from Vermont and they decided to make the trip into town as well. When I heard they were going to be attending I figured I didn’t have any choice but to show up. After all, I don’t get to see them very often and I would have needed a seriously good excuse (severed limb, head on fire, stuck in a hole) for Andrea to allow me to stay away. See, Andrea has categorized Lisa and Amos as “sacred cows.” This basically means that everything else is secondary (including personal health, safety, and welfare) if there is even a remote chance to spend time with them.

To add some context, Alex, Andrea, Lisa, Amos, and I all met as Northerners in deep South Georgia. Andrea, Lisa, and I all moved there independent of one another for work reasons while Alex and Amos followed their wives (however neither couple was married at the time). None of us had ties to anything southern or in any close geographic proximity. Upon meeting each other, however, there was a familial bond that formed between us since we were all experiencing a similar degree of foreignness. Consequently, we all spent a lot of time together sharing in all the unique idiosyncrasies of the cultural situation we put ourselves in. Of course, over time, we all moved back north and continue a less frequent face-to-face interaction.

If Lisa and Amos hadn’t been in town I probably would have stayed in the SC and enjoyed all the activities that make this little slice of Central Pennsylvania so much fun. I would have gotten an earful from Andrea for disappointing her daughter (although she wouldn’t have known I wasn’t there) but that’s nothing new. Fortunately Lisa and Amos did show up and, as always, it was really great to see them again.

What Doesn’t Kill You…

Meet Brian. At first glance, you might think Brian is a mild mannered individual. After all, he’s an engineering professor at a local university (and therefore a bit nerdy), he’s tall, lanky, and has a relatively consistent “nothing bothers me” attitude. He’s also starting to grey a bit but that’s not really his fault. Brian is a classic case of judging the book by its cover. While the jacket may seem simple, the story is all about pain and suffering. Of course, he’s the one that inflicts the pain and causes the suffering.

While this may seem like an exaggeration, every time I have joined Brian for some kind of outdoor activity, it turns out to be a full-on sufferfest. Well, at least I end up suffering while Brian casually rolls along and pretends to be exerting some effort but that just adds insult to injury. Sunday was a prime example of Brian doing his best to try and rip my legs off via a mountain bike ride. Of course, I foolishly decided to join.

Like most mountain bike rides with Brian it starts out without a real ride plan. We decide to meet somewhere and then settle on a loop. This, puts Brian in the unique position to lure you in and then WHAM, you’re stuck. After all, you’re not going get all geared up and drive to the woods only to say, “No thanks, I’d rather not ride.” That’s just foolish. Instead, you begrudgingly go along and end up doing some ridiculous amount of climbing mixed with gnarly descents that leave you barely able to walk when the ride is done.

Brian typically tells me that rides like the one from this weekend are good for me. I’m still trying to figure out what good comes from being a few pedal strokes away from complete incapacitation. One would think the cushy university gig would make him soft but I think it just gives him time to figure out new and creative ways to bury me and the others foolish enough to join his cavalcade of misery.

Who Needs Enemies?

So I have this friend, Andrea. She and I met a long time ago when I was working in Georgia. We worked at the same agency in with me starting about six months prior to her. Before she started working we got along fine. I helped her and her (now) husband move into their house and welcomed them to the area. Of course, once we actually were working in the same office our personalities clashed in a big way. I don’t know the technical term but basically we couldn’t stand each other. This continued for about six months but then one day we made amends and have been very good friends ever since. Of course, I use the term friends loosely in her case.

After a few years of working together Andrea decided to take a job in Harrisburg, PA just outside of where I grew up and where most of my family still lives. Since we were on better terms by this point I encouraged her to contact my family for help with moving and getting acclimated to the area. Again, this would seem to indicate a healthy and normal relationship, but it gets better. Now I’m living in the SC and travel frequently to visit my family (still in the Harrisburg area) so I see Andrea and her family quite often.

Nothing about this seems at all out of sorts but the relationship that Andrea and I have seemed to settle in on is one of antagonism and something I like to call my evil social conscience. Andrea has a way of putting me in my place. Now granted, it’s usually deserved but sometimes she’ll take matters into her own hands and goes out of her way to make things difficult at my expense. This almost exclusively happens regarding women. Even though we live about two hours away and she only knows a handful of the women I know (mostly because she introduced me) this happens more than I’d like and usually does not end well for me. Andrea likes to say that her second job in life is keeping me in line. I guess it’s kind of flattering since she’s a wife, a mother, has a high caliber job, and taking care of me is her second job but maybe that’s not much of a compliment.

I can say though, for all of our differences and angst in our relationship, I love her very dearly and cherish her friendship. Of course her husband is definitely the cooler half in that relationship and their daughter trumps them both. Also, she could win a few cool points if she wasn’t such a Barry Manilow fan.

Let's Ride

As I’ve stated in previous posts, this year’s cycling season started extra early due to some unexpectedly warm weather in late March and early April. While I’ve been logging a good number of miles, I still feel like I haven’t been riding enough. Of course, this was all put into perspective when I was talking with Ieva. Upon her mention that she had been very negligent on her riding, I decided to kill two birds with one stone.

The main reason Ieva hasn’t been able to ride much is because she is a new mother and, as logic would dictate, spends the majority of her time being a mother. I got in touch with Ieva and told her that we were going to ride over the weekend. I explained to her that I had nothing planned for the weekend other than, at a minimum, spending time on the trails with her. If she was going to rebuff my riding request she was going to need a seriously bonzer reason. Based on this rigid criterion, Ieva had no real outs and was okay with being told she had to ride.

Saturday morning brought some early discussions about a possible ride plan and some general ranges on time. Since Ieva’s schedule is dictated by the ever adorable Anders, she didn’t really get much say in when things would occur. It was going to be a quick decision so all my gear was prepared in advance. At about eleven o’clock we pulled the trigger. I scooped Cathy en route to Ieva’s and by noon we were on the trail.

We didn’t do a very aggressive or long ride. It was the standard loop up Camp Trail; across the ridge; down Kettle; along Lower Lonberger; Three Bridges; and back to the Forestry Lot, so everything was very familiar. The main difference with this particular ride was the fact that Ieva was included. That made all my dabs and falls, and missed logs, and blown lines, and generally poor riding completely irrelevant. The important part was that Ieva had a great time and the pizza and beer that followed was proof enough for me.

Camp

This past weekend marked the annual spring gobbler hunt and pig roast Brian hosts at his family’s camp. Usually camp officially opens on Thursday night with dinner and typically only a few people make it out therefore the Friday morning hunt is a small group. This year I decided to take a day off of work so I could hunt on Friday morning and enjoy some additional quiet time at camp. While I had never done an entire camp weekend (for any season) I had been out on several single day hunts so I had an idea of what to expect but I was in for a surprise.

So this was the weekend plan: get up early on Friday and hunt all morning, do some work at the cabin Friday afternoon and get a decent night of sleep. Saturday we would get up early to hunt and get back to the cabin before noon to prepare for the evening’s festivities. Even though Saturday was going to be more of a family environment, the two days prior would be full-on man camp. It would be all about shooting guns, playing cards, telling lies, drinking a beer or two, fishing at the pond and doing our best to shoot a turkey. Like most good plans though, there is always room for alterations.

So my abbreviated report of camp goes something like this: we ate way too much food that was way too salty, drank way too much beer, stayed up way too late, got up way too early, and had way too few vegetables (unless iced animal crackers count as a vegetable). I realize this is not the most detailed bit of storytelling but in my defense I’m not leaving out details because there is some code that you can’t talk about camp, it’s more because I don’t necessarily remember a whole lot more than that.

In the end though, it was a great weekend. Being out in the woods for a few days to hunt in the morning and relax on a porch in the afternoon isn’t a bad way to spend some time. As a final note I think it’s important to point out that no turkeys were harmed during the weekend of research for this post. In fact, no one even got off a shot, but it was still a lot of fun trying.

Bor-a-palooza

Lately I’ve been catching some flak from a few of my fans about the lack of pizazz in my posts. This did not come as a new revelation to me. I, for the most part, lead a very simple and boring life. I can only write about snowboarding or mountain biking for so many weeks in a row without getting bored myself. I get the fact that I need to keep things interesting so people will keep coming back but let’s face it, I can’t be “on” all the time. Even clowns cry once in a while (which makes me more afraid of them).

In order to keep with my plan of posting every week I have to let a few duds slide through. Sometimes my quality control system is off but usually I know when a post is going to be poorly received. Sure I could skip a week or two when I can’t think of anything lively to write but I’d rather disappoint a few readers than let the blog languish for an extended period of time. Besides, if I skip one week what’s to say I’m not going to skip ten? Then where would we be? Being able to write what I want when I want is one of the benefits of being the author of this train wreck (actually, that is the only perk I’ve found to date).

So last week was my 100th post. That’s right 100 times I sat down and strung together a bunch of letters to form some sort of tale either true, false, or somewhere in between. Some posts have been funny while others have been downright dumb. I’ll let you form your own opinions about this post but I think I know how you’re going to feel.

I’ll Take Your Word For It

So this past weekend I managed to get in a mix of both work and play. I accomplished a few projects in my yard and also managed to find some time to ride some trails. Sunday turned out to be a bit rainy and overcast but Brian and I decided to make the most of it and headed out for some suffering in Rothrock. I stopped by Spring’s house to pick up Brain but got briefly side-tracked by television and snacks. After about an hour of that we decided to rally and headed to the forest.

The ride was nothing special. It was humid and kind of rainy so by the end I was wet and slimy and in need of a shower. Instead, I decided to hang out at Spring’s for a bit to visit with Brian and Spring and enjoy some more snacks. After a bit, I excused myself from the table and went into the bathroom to blow my nose. As I went to discard the tissue I noticed something in the trash can that disturbed me to say the least. Now, I should mention that Brian and Spring are on the cusp of full-on cohabitation so, being a good friend (or at least a nosy one) I decided to inquire about the sight that was found at the bottom of the aforementioned waste receptacle because I thought it could be a deal breaker for their relationship.

What was the offending sight you ask? Well, at the bottom of the trash can were several cotton tipped swabs (sorry, no product placement here) with jet black ends. Being a person that cares about hygiene I have a box of cotton swabs that I use to clean out my ears so I assume others do the same thing. I figured it was important to inquire about the black ends in case one of the two individuals sitting in the other room had a serious inner ear issue because, while I’m not a doctor, I’m pretty sure that isn’t a good thing.

Once this discovery was made public, Spring began to spin a yarn about how she doesn’t have a steady hand when she puts on her mascara (most likely from all the wine she drinks) and has to remove the excess with the cotton swabs. Since I have no experience with mascara I decided to believe her. Also, I figured even if she was lying, I didn’t want to hear any other justification so with my curiosity appeased the conversation was promptly changed. After all, there are some explanations that should be accepted no matter what.

What Came First?

So what did come first; the chicken or me? While I realize that’s a stupid question and really doesn’t make any sense at all, it’s the basis for something that seems to be all around me lately. The other day I was flipping through the four television channels that I get from my air signal and started watching a program about food and the process by which large agribusinesses have, for the most part, replaced the family farm in creating the majority of the produce and other food products that show up in the grocery store.

A day later I found myself watching a program about dirt and why it’s so important to everyday life. I found it odd that these programs with similar topic matter were being shown in close succession but the 40th anniversary of Earth Day was just this past week so I assumed that had something to do with it. Regardless of why it was being shown I was paying attention and found the general theme being presented a bit troubling and eye opening.

I never intended this blog to ever take on too serious of a tone and I don’t necessarily like the preachy undertones of this post but I was really taken aback by some of the processes and methods that get certain products onto people’s dinner tables. I found myself questioning every food choice I’ve made in recent memory. I didn’t want to eat another bite of anything until I knew exactly what brought it to me. I also began making a mental list of all the companies or products I wanted to make sure to avoid if even remotely possible.

I do my best to buy locally grown produce and other foods because it seems like a good idea. I also like to support local anything from bike shops to bands to restaurants. After watching these documentaries though I’ll being buying local because I feel safer knowing exactly where the sustenance I put into my pie-hole comes from.

What Do You Think?

Recently I’ve noticed a trend in my day-to-day. I have a lot of really great ideas and a lot of fantastic thoughts. I realize this isn’t the type of discovery that would make Magellan jealous since most people probably think they also have great ideas. What makes me different is that I only have these ideas for about ten minutes a day. Now, you may be saying to yourself, “What’s the problem with that? Just write down these earth shattering thoughts when they come to you.” Well, that would be easy except I have these thoughts in the shower.

Yep, as soon as that hot water hits my flesh my mind goes into overdrive with ideas for things to do or stories to write or projects to develop at work or a witty remark to use on the next hottie that crosses my path or anything else in the grand scheme of the universe. Of course just as quickly as the mental stew begins, once the water is off, my mind goes back to pudding and I forget just about everything I thought about. I have to physically try to remember and then it’s usually only one or two of the really important (to me at least) ideas that I focus on.

Another problem I have is that so much is going on in my small mind that I often forget things over the course of the actual shower. This means I would need some kind of writing device that would be waterproof and allow me to scribe notes to myself while all lathered up. I don’t know if such an item exists, but it’d really make my life a lot easier. I guess my options are to figure out how to develop such a waterproof pen and paper set or spend the majority of my day in the shower. I don’t know which would actually be easier, but they both kind of sound fun.

Corrections

It has recently been brought to my attention that certain information portrayed in a recent post has been taken in a malicious and hurtful way instead of the fun loving jovial manner that it was intended. The author would like to apologize for any misrepresentations, either written or implied. Furthermore, the author would like to note that his friendship with Spring has been effortless and one that is highly valued. Any indications to the contrary should be disregarded.

Pain & Suffering

So as you may know from wasting time reading the nonsense that I write every week I participate in a lot of activities that keep me busy all year long. Most of these distractions have some degree of danger and can cause serious injury if not executed properly. It’s also safe to say that all these excursions cause me some degree of pain and suffering (of course being friends with Spring causes a lot of that as well, ZING).

Usually if something goes wrong when I’m out being radical I’ll end up with cuts or bruising and I’ll have some cool scars to show off. However, this weekend I was thrown for a loop. I was taking advantage of the primo weather and went mountain biking with some friends. I took a couple of spills but none were serious. Then, as we were getting ready to start the final section of singletrack my back decided to lock up and has been like that ever since. The pain has been excruciating and I’m not sure what caused it or how to make it go away.

Now, I’m held up on the couch with heat on my back trying to get things to loosen up so I can actually move around comfortably. I don’t know when this will end but hopefully it happens soon. If you don’t think I’m in pain, imagine how difficult it was for you to read this and focus that all into your lower back. See, I told you it hurts.

Goodbye Old Friend

Well, it finally happened. After nearly seven great years of companionship I had to bid farewell to a trusted friend. Like most relationships, this was one of give and take. I did my best to tend to her needs and make sure she had everything to make her happy. She, in return, was always there for me; someone I could really count on.

However, like any healthy relationship there were a few rough spots. There was one time, on a trip to Vermont for a wedding, she almost left me stranded. Although after a little time and attention we were able to reconcile our differences and had a great time the rest of the trip. The entire time we were together she always accepted my friends and was willing to take me on all my adventures regardless of how crazy they may have been.

Unfortunately, this past week we had to part ways. I thought I was ready for a change but when everything was unfolding I questioned whether or not I was making the right decision. Of course, I’ve moved on and so will she. In fact, almost immediately I was cozying up with something new. Yep, I’ll miss my Jeep, but I’ll always have the memories.

Eat Like a Bird, Get Skinny Fast

So my first mountain bike ride of the season didn’t quite go as planned. It was only going to be about an hour long ride after work but, because I flatted twice, I had to get a ride back to my car in the dark. This repetitive flatting perplexed me as I wasn’t sure why it happened. I was running the same tire pressure that I have for the last three seasons and the bike was set up the same but for some reason this ride was different. Then it dawned on me: I was getting flats because I had gotten fat. Due to this extra weight I figured I should explore ways to remove it or invest in rubber futures.

Recently I learned of the diet that the most intense guy I know lives by. Actually, to say Dave Case is intense is an understatement. I don’t think I know anyone who is more focused on getting the most out of every activity while also having fun in the process (all the while being a super nice guy). It’s hard to describe the type of person Dave is so I’ll use some analogies. Yes, I’m copying the idea of this next part from someone else but I think it applies quite nicely here too so please play along.

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When Dave goes mountain biking the rocks wear helmets.

When Dave goes surfing, the sharks put out Dave warnings.

People get sick because of the flu. The Flu gets sick because of Dave.

When Chuck Norris goes to sleep, he checks under the bed to make sure Dave isn’t there.

Telemark skis were created because you can’t contain any part of Dave, especially his heels.

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So I was talking with Herm the other day and he mentioned he had a copy of the diet that Dave created and, given my current propensity for flat tires, I was interested to know what it was all about. I thought maybe I’d give it a go for a little while and see if I couldn’t lose a few LBs. Of course, all of that changed once I actually saw what was required by this meal plan.

When I finished reading through the information I was in disbelief and thought (or actually hoped) I had missed a page or two. The document Dave prepared included a breakfast and a lunch that he eats everyday as well as several options for dinner. While I admire his dedication and discipline to follow this prescribed formula for super-human health, I realized his scientifically balanced nutritional map was a bit too advanced for me.

I haven’t completely written-off Dave’s guide for how to eliminate substance while still putting proper food in your system but when I read the words, “No Ice Cream, No Butter, and No Cheese” I decided it wasn’t my cup of tea (which isn’t allowed either). Quite honestly, I’m not sure how someone as active as Dave can survive on such a small amount of food per day but for the time being I’ll just plan to carry a few extra tubes.

The End & The Beginning

It finally happened. This weekend marked the official end of the lift served central Pennsylvania ski season. The local hill held one last hoorah on Saturday to end what was one of the best years on snow we’ve had in recent memory. The temperatures stayed cold, we didn’t get our standard January thaw, and we actually got a goodly amount of natural snow. Alas, Mother Nature decided it was time to kick off the growing season and has been providing us with warm temperatures and rain; two things that don’t mix well with snow.

I can honestly say I’m not upset that the season has finally come to a close. It’s been a long winter and once the thaw started I began thinking about the cycling season. Spring is now officially here and the forest has been released from the grip of ice packed roads and snow covered trails. The roads are being cleaned of the leftover grit from snow treatments and the signs of the seasonal change are showing up everywhere.

I embarked on my first official mountain bike ride and road ride this weekend. Sure I’ve been riding occasionally over the winter but only on my townie cruiser so that doesn’t really count. They weren’t long rides but just enough to make me realize two things. First, I really miss riding and second, three months of snowboarding didn’t do much to prepare me for being on a bike.

It’s safe to say I have a lot of work to get back into cycling shape which means is I’ll get to spend more time pedaling around and why would I complain about that? While the snowboarding season is over we definitely had a good one. The official tally was 82 days of open slopes. Now, I’ll have a solid seven months to ride. It’s just one vicious series of crazy fun activity. I’m just glad I’ve got the other two months of the year to reorganize gear and rest.

Build Me an Ark

I think it’s safe to say that this weekend was wet. A nice healthy rainstorm came in late Friday night and decided to stick around until early Sunday evening. Now that we’re into mid March the temperatures have warmed up but we still have snow on the ground. Well, I should say we did have snow. Thanks to the rain, what snow was left disappeared rapidly.

Normally the rain would put the kibosh on any type of outside activity but Herm and I thought it would be a good idea to go and explore the forest to see what kind of damage was being done by all the water and how badly the trails were getting washed out. We planned to do a short hike on the Owl Gap Trail to see what kind of condition it was in for riding and then drive around to assess the flooding. It’s safe to say we got more than we bargained for.

The roads getting into the forest were almost completely clear of snow and ice which was a bit of a surprise to both of us so we had very little trouble getting into the trailhead at Owl Gap. Of course, we did encounter a few downed trees across the road that needed to be moved and we had to pull one yokel’s car out of the mud but other than that things were just a bit sloppy but easily passable. We hiked the Owl Gap Trial in a mild rain. It was a little difficult to navigate the trail as it was now a stream running down from the ridge but we managed to make our way to the top. After we explored around on foot we decided to get back in the car and cruise some fire roads.

The amount of water running down trails, along roadside ditches, busting out of the hillsides, and raging through normally mild stream channels was mind boggling. It was so spectacular we decided to go back on Sunday to check a few more places. It’s was incredible to see what a healthy dose of rain mixed with snow melt could do. Hopefully the trails will dry out soon because it was nice to be back in the woods. However, next time I’ll be taking my bike.

Hitting a Wall

So the last few weeks I’ve been feeling very drained. I’ve felt physically and mentally rundown to the point where I haven’t been motivated to do much especially writing interesting blog posts. It’s been easy to recycle the same blog post about snowboarding because that’s what I’ve been doing. Riding on the weekends and going on trips to ride were helping me get through the week but eventually that wasn’t enough. Everything caught up with me yesterday when I was out at the mountain on patrol.

It was an amazing spring weekend with bluebird conditions and soft snow that was easy to edge. I was working the morning shift so I was at the mountain shortly after eight. The only problem was I didn’t feel like riding. I had no motivation to strap into my binders. I took a few runs to try and shake out the cobwebs but I just didn’t have it. My form was all over the place which usually leads to injury. I had no energy or desire to continue riding so I just sat back and waited until my shift ended. I was just happy to get home and settle into a quiet evening.

Sunday started off similar to Saturday with another early trip to patrol at the mountain; however I woke up with a little more energy than the day before. The conditions were firm and thin so it was difficult to set an edge, but the forecast was for blue skies and more warm temperatures. Instead of waiting until later in the day for the sun to soften the snow I just kept riding. I didn’t want to stop.

As the conditions improved so did I. Throughout the day some friends showed up with their kids so I tagged along to help keep an eye on their shorties as they attempted to hit every kicker on the mountain (even if it wasn’t really a jump). I also met some new people and rode with them for a while. Sunday was the complete opposite of Saturday and also turned out to be very cathartic for me.

As the weather continues to warm up I’ll have a larger variety of activities to occupy my time and that will definitely be a good thing. At the end of the day though, it doesn’t matter how hard I stomp a booter or how deep a trench I dig. What really matters is that I’m having fun and getting rejuvenated for the 9 to 5er that lies ahead and that was exactly my Sunday.

Cats & Dogs Living in Harmony

As a general rule snowboarders (like me) don’t usually get along with skiers. They don’t like me because they have to wait while I get strapped into my binders at top of the hill and I don’t like them because they can traverse through any run-out without issue. Unfortunately the majority of my friends are skiers and the few that do snowboard are switching over to skis so I often end up riding with the two-plankers. While there aren’t many things skiers and snowboarders see eye to eye on, there is one thing where we are in full agreement. Few things beat riding in powder.

This weekend Brian (a skier) and I went to Black Mo to check out the abandoned ski slope. It’s only about a quarter mile hill with around 200 feet of elevation change but when there’s snow it can be amazingly fun. Usually the fumers get to the hill first and track out most of the good lines but this weekend was a bit different. We got to the hill and looked down across a mostly clean powder field. We geared up, dropped in, and proceeded to slay the powder dragons like medieval knights. There we were; a skier and a snowboarder enjoying deep powder.

One down side to the hill at Black Mo is that you park at the top and therefore have to hike back up for each subsequent run. We managed to get in six laps before it was time to call it a day, but those six runs were fantastic. It’s not often you get to experience bottomless powder at Black Mo but we put some of our best graffiti on the hill that day. Not only did I get a solid workout I was also able to shake off some of the hangover I suffered from the night before (since it was my birthday). Thanks for that Herm.

Road Trippin', Again

Once again this weekend I decided to get out town for some snowboarding. It’s been a pretty terrific year of snow and I’ve been traveling a lot to enjoy it. Granted, most of the trips have been short but the change of scenery has been a welcome change to lapping the local hill.

This weekend’s destination was Ithaca New York. It’s about three hours from the SC and Greek Peak is about twenty minutes north of that. I’d never been to Ithaca or to the Peak so I was looking forward to the trip. I was going with a co-worker who has friends in Ithaca so that meant the lodging would be taken care of and I would have a personal guide at the mountain to show me the best lines.

Greek Peak doesn’t have a lot of steep chutes or burly terrain. What they do have though is an abundance of long and wide open corduroy that is ideal for cruising and laying down effortless carves. We got to the Peak early enough on Saturday and Sunday to catch first chair and rode until about noon on both days. The conditions were pretty spectacular and the board was running great. One thing that I wasn’t expecting though was the pain and soreness.

I like to think that I’m in fairly decent snowboarding shape. After all, I’ve already ridden about thirty days or so this season which is a lot for Central Pennsylvania. I usually don’t get too tired from riding groomers but for some reason my legs were cooked from riding on Saturday. It was difficult to boot up again on Sunday but with bluebird conditions I managed to rally. While I never really thought I’d get worked from riding groomers I got in some great laps with deep carves and that goes a long way to alleviating the pain. And one last thing before I forget, happy birthday Herm.