With a little help

MTB is, for the most part, a solitary activity/sport.  You get out in nature and ride the trails with the freedom of being solo and doing it all by yourself.  It is one of the attractive elements of the mountain bike, a self-propelled freedom vehicle that can take you to places that are remote, out of the way, and beautiful.  The mountain bike is a tool/toy that is used for solitary consumption of remote singletrack.  Mountain bikers are notorious for being self-training, self-sufficient, self-riding apparitions of the offroad two wheeled locomotion.

I personally have spent countless hours peddling a fat-tire beast up over around and down, solo.  Yes, it was by choice.  I wanted to ride my pace, my trails, my time, me me me.  No one to slow me down, no one to chase.  Selfish riding, all about me. 

There are no words that I can put down to describe what it is to ride with someone that you can push and can push you back.  It's a one-up showdown singletrack style.  Progression happens when you hear the knobbies grabbing some hard-pack in a smooth right hander a millisecond behind.  That's right, when you can feel the rider behind you without having to "look back", -that is a two handed push toward progress.

I'm lucky to have someone I can ride with that pushes me to be uncomfortable, to ride one the edge, to progress.  I do my best to return the favor.  I have been fortunate to be the lead rider on our rides (thanks to my knowledge of the trail system), otherwise it would be a different story if I were the one chasing.  I am dead after riding in the lead, I would be obliterated if I were the one chasing.

I know why mountain bikers ride alone, and for the most part I enjoy a good solo ride, but when I get to ride with an equal or someone of superior talent -it makes for an experience like no other.  Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy company of any skill level on rides.  Riding with someone else and getting to share in the experience of the ride together is what it is all about.  If I had it my way, every ride would be a shared experience.  Let me know when you want to go.

Could be worse

I'm getting ready for a mtb ride this afternoon, and a look at the weather says 32* wind chill of 23* with a 30% chance of snow flurries.  If you reside below the 32*of latitude then this is not a good day to be out and about, as for you people who reside in a more Northerly climate -it is probably a t-shirt and shorts kind of day.

Location, Location, Location.
I should be counting my lucky stars that I am actually getting outside and not having to shovel 26" of snow to do so.  Sure we all want nice sunny days to throw a leg over the saddle and get some miles and hours of freedom.  I would prefer to sit on the couch and watch episodes of syndicated nothingness until I want to buy everything that is advertised, and I really do think that Depends would be a great way to watch more TV.  I digress, I have decided to brave the elements along with a couple of guys that for some reason want to take the "hard-man" approach to doing this thing that we like to do. 

I am going to get "suited up" to go ride.  I will, when I get back -through the magic of time travel, let you know how my little jaunt was.  If I survived, had fun, was miserable, so stay tuned.  As my sister says "ciao for now".

I'm back, showered up, recovering, at least as good as I can be right now.  I put in a hard day on the mtb yesterday, and then followed that up today with a real roaster.  I'll write about that later.  Anyway, the weather was really not much of a deterrent, well it was livable.  The digits were a little cold and had to stop a couple of times to bring them back to life.  You kind of need them to put the brakes on, the toes were cold, but not frozen -at least I thought.  When I got in the shower I realized that my big toes were in fact frozen, nothing a little hot water couldn't fix.

Conclusion:
It is great to be able to get out with friends and ride, even if the thermometers say it is FREEZING outside.

You're gonna' go blind doing...

"Self improvement is masturbation, now self destruction..." -Tyler Durden,  Fight Club

Riding, Racing, Training can be considered self improvement, but to really ride, race and train there has to be an element of self destruction.  Let's call it self improvement through self destruction.  This attitude of self destruction is not always realized, maybe not even recognized to the untrained eye.  But it is there. 

When was the last time you turned yourself inside out trying to stay with someone on a ride who is better than you?  You know that feeling when your legs turn to molten lead, start to seize up, and you are no longer able to even pedal squares?  Ever throw up in your mouth trying to bridge a gap, or taking a pull to keep the break, away?

We destroy our bodies, we break down muscle fibers, we endure broken bones and roadrash.  We do this in the hope that we will come back fitter, stronger, faster.  Call it what it is, but don't try and fool yourself into thinking that you are being "good" to your body. 

Take a look at Andy with his shirt off -is that self improvement?

Photo: Andy via his TweetPhoto Stream

Riding with Ghosts

Palo Duro Canyon is the site of a massacre of women, children and horses.  I don't have any reference or historical backing to this, except for what I have heard over the years living in the area.  I am too lazy to look up any facts right now, so for the unsubstantiated rumor:  the Indian fighters waited for the men/braves/warriors to leave the women and children alone, and once alone... well you get the picture.  It is said that you can hear horses at night in the canyon.  People on hikes have heard people talking (mostly women and children's voices) (not in English).  Scary stuff right?  Anyway if you are interested look it up.

I went on a solo road trip to PDC to ride mountain bikes and I encountered ghosts.  Ghosts of my past, and of my past "self".  There is something powerful about being in a place that you have history, history all around, around every corner, over every hill. My parents brought me to PDC before I can remember. We would come down after church for lunch and stay until we would have to go back for church that night. I spent many hours exploring, hiking, and playing. These ghosts flow in and out passing through me when I see the picnic grounds, the old slide and playground. There on the right is the creek we used to wade in. There is the small knol that was used as a fort for capture the flag.

Driving down into the canyon one of the first landmarks is the amphitheater where they have the musical Texas. I can see the people dancing and singing, and all those Texas flags blowing in the ample Panhandle plains wind. I remember some of the friends and family that we would take with us to the play. We once saw a cougar walking on the foothills behind the actors on the stage during a performance.  Bits and pieces of memory come to me as if changing channels in my brain, not staying on one long enough before the next one and then another.

Here is the area where the Sad Monkey Scenic Railroad once ran it's tiny train. My grandmother would buy me some soft serve and a ticket. I would try to finish the ice cream before the summer heat laid it to rest at my feet dripping down my forearms. We would sit on the picnic tables waiting for the train to come into the station for our turn to ride around, see the sights and hear the stories of the conductor.

Fast forward a few years and I'm with the high school marching band on a Saturday afternoon chasing girls (no, really chasing girls).  Going on misadventures with testosterone charged teenage boys looking for thrills and adrenalin.  We tried our hand at caving and when we got far enough in and had no flashlight, we opted for rock climbing.  The whole time trying to impress the lovely girls in the band.  It is a surprise that no one was killed, maimed, injured or arrested.  Oh, someone broke a finger playing Frisbee with the lid to a 5 gallon bucket.  Frisbee, football, and other activities were outlawed shortly thereafter by the band director.

I've spent hours and hours in this canyon, lunches, meals, picnics and several breakfasts.  The memories that are in these walls of the canyon, in the small streams, rocks and trees that I have compiled over the years.  Some more recent than others.  Some more prominent like the "romantic" make-out sessions watching the sunset over the rim of the canyon. Oh, the brilliance of a amorous teenage boy.  Then there are the memories that I can't remember like that time...

New Years Revolutions

Resolution is a weak word, why would you resolve to do something?  Now Revolution, that's something you can sink your teeth into.  Resolve is what you want to do, Revolution is action.  You could resolve in this new year or you could create a self-revolution.  I don't believe in making a Resolution to do something.  I'm going to work out, I'm going to stop sniffing glue, I'm going to arbitrarily change my life.

I want to create a Revolution for my life, not just this year but a change for life.  I have written about motivational problems, my issues of motivating to do something productive.  I want to make my life more productive, and it starts with TV.  I watch too much TV.  I am addicted, turn it on and my brain is turned off and then the body shuts down.  I become a slug, a parasite of visual and auditory mind numbing entertainment.  Calling it entertainment is a stretch, it is plain and simple time killing.  Turn on tune in for a self lobotomy.  The TV is on right now as I type this, I can't turn it off.  I need accountability.  I need a village to help me get off of TV.

I have no excuse to not do something positive with my life each and everyday.  I have a good life, I have all my faculties.  The only issue that I have, is motivation.  I am easily swayed from being active, or constructive.  How do I change my lifestyle to become a more motivated positive member of society?  I am not looking for some Dr. Phil/Oprah answer.  I need a nuts and bolts surefire way to get off my lazy nonconstructive bum and get something done.  -Each and Every Day.  Is that too much to ask for.

Make a Revolution in your life, I am trying to make one in mine.  If you need help ask for it, I am asking for help.  Help me be a better person, a more positive, constructive entity in life.  Be a true friend and call me out when I am being less than positive, you would let me know if I had a booger, wouldn't you?  Wouldn't you?

Road trip

Pictures are worth... 


MTB in Palo Duro Canyon and Abq foothills.

Wish you were here?

-- Sent from my Palm Pixi

Speak and Spell

There is a theme here and it is not intentional. Or is it?  Anyway the first time I heard Depeche Mode was on a ski trip, but it was not a church trip, it was to a lodge in Colorado where families would ski and fellowship (Ok, Churchy but not an organized church trip).  We were in the game room playing pool and ping-pong, someone had a "boom box/ghetto blaster" and Speak and Spell was playing.  Now at this time I was used to "jamming out" to Twisted Sister and Ratt, so hearing Depeche Mode was not a big eye opening moment, but somewhere in my subconscious it left an indelible mark to be revisited later, much later.

Flash forward to 1990 and the spring of my freshmen year.  "Personal Jesus" hit college radio and I was in deep.  Had to get a ride into town and buy this single.  Things are a little slower in rural TX and by the time "Personal Jesus" was on the radio, the album was already out.  Decisions, decisions.  Do I buy the album or just the single?  I took the plunge, bought Violator and hurried to get the cassette out of the case and into the tape deck of a friends car.

"World in My Eyes" was the first track.  The first track to get my attention and then "Sweetest Perfection".  I already liked "Personal Jesus", then "Enjoy the Silence" and "Policy of Truth".  This album to me is the lynch pin of Depeche Mode's catalog.  It was dark compared to earlier albums and they were changing musically with this being their seventh album in a span of nine years.  Violator was nowhere near the the Speak and Spell that I had heard years earlier.

With Violator I became a fan, and started buying more, Music for the Masses was next for me, and imagine my surprise when I played the album for the first time and actually knew songs.  Wow, really?  Who knew.  A few years later my senior year, I picked up Songs of Faith and Devotion.  Once again David and Martin were keeping up with the times and put out an album that was different from the rest, but yet was still true to their craft.

Depeche Mode is one of the groups that I can always go back to and play.  And when I do click a little icon or push a button I am transported back to an earlier time when things were new and different.  A time of growing up, learning, pain and joy.  Girlfriends past, friends past, times past, listening brings it all back. Take something off the shelf that you have not listened to in a while, dust it off (so to speak, in this digital age) and see where it will take you.  Careful... music has sharp edges and can open old wounds, or it can be a beautiful thing.  Happy listening.