Gratitude

I had a really lovely Christmas vacation filled with lots of socializing and skiing and it made me feel lots of feelings, including overwhelming gratitude for all the good in my life. Mostly:

-A family that doesn't expect me to ever visit or call and still loves and supports me even though I've been hiding in Idaho for five years.

-Podcasts and libraries: all the free content you could ever consume.

-A good man and a good dog, even though I was extremely resistant to going down that road again because I'm convinced that all relationships are doomed to failure.

But seriously, just look at this weird cat-dog.

-My health. After racking up tens of thousands of dollars in medical bills at the beginning of 2018, I'm doing just fine and it could have been so much worse.

-My friends. My god I have wonderful friends. I am so fortunate.

-The fact that the city plows the sidewalks.

-My job, which is low key and flexible but feels so engaging and important.

-Interactions with people who believe in very different things than I do but are still deeply kind and caring. Related: rarely having to interact with trolls.

-My warm sunny house that I signed for a year ago holy fuck I can't believe I'm a homeowner and I can't believe it's been the most gratifying experience of my life.

-Generations of privilege. I can't stress this enough. Our family has always been working class but because of decades of canny financial decisions I have a college education and a home and I couldn't have done either without the wisdom and benevolence of my parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. Credit also goes to them for teaching us what really matters in life.

Dog Day

The banana shipment hasn't come so I get the day off. The pup, whose name has of course evolved into various permutations (Kiddo, Squido, Hellion, Sophaloaphagus) looks at me with beseeching eyes as I linger over coffee and clementines. We go for a run because one of the main reasons I wanted a dog was for altruistic exercise: a good impetus to get out even when I don't care.

The unceasing freeze-thaw cycle means the snow has an eggshell crust and Sophie, who usually loves porpoising through deep snow, stays in the packed-down track today; crust-wallowing is hard for a little dog. When I break through it scrapes my numb shins.

Deep postholes marr the path for a couple meters; I realize they are hoof-shaped and look around for the moose, hoping he has already crossed the road and gone down to the creek banks. There is coyote scat in the trail and, fascinated, Sophie agitates the snow in the pawprints with her little claws and thrusts her nose deep into the well of scent. The droppings have ice facets growing on them so they're from yesterday but on the way back she stands still, her shepherd ears tense and pointing skyward. I get goosebumps and scan the hills adjacent. She senses so many things I am oblivious to.

At the end she is still energetic; four cold miles wasn't nearly enough, so I pledge to her an afternoon play date with one of the many dog friends we have.

Sophie's "Run me" face

I Can't Function Because Snow

I was going to compose some lengthy-ish post encompassing a variety of topics:

-My sexy new bike. After a couple months of trail time it has finally revealed to me its name. The Bronson will hereafter be known as The Stag. because of the way it bounds gracefully and powerfully through the woods, but also because riding it is like going stag to a party: scary and exciting and you never know how it's going to end.

Oh baby

-The glorious Indian summer we've been in the throes of; no mud, warm temps, great colors. The crusty locals claim this autumn has been the loveliest in memory.

October gave us stellar weather

-How much I'm turning into my dad. Riding the two miles to work in various gnarly conditions, because warming the car up annoys me more than donning every piece of clothing I own in order to pedal in sub-zero temps. And listening to endless podcasts because I have run out of music to entertain me sufficiently during the mindless daily seven hours of barmaking.

-How excited I am to be going home for Christmas! All thanks to the benevolence of Tyler's employer.

Yep, I was going to turn those garbled thoughts into semi-coherent paragraphs, but all of a sudden there's a foot of snow on the ground and it's dumping and I'm overcaffeinated and severely distracted. Miraculous, beautiful, long-awaited winter is here again.

If you think I'm stoked about this weather, you should see Tyler

Ski Wydaho, Where the Cows Outnumber the People!

Having spent almost a month in the Teton Valley, I am absolutely shocked that it isn't being billed as the new Jackson or Tahoe or Summit County. Sure, every single person you come in contact with is a settler from the midwest or south or northeast who came here to live out the ski-bum dream of manifest destiny, but the valley is still cheap, quiet, and slow-moving. And oh lord, the snow!

Relentless snow in November

I have eleven ski days already and only four at resorts. The backcountry possibilities are exciting and endless, and the community is very welcoming. Paul was in town for a while and on weekdays when Tyler worked Paul and I called upon casual acquaintances or friends-of-friends to take us out and show us stashes. I've learned so much about all kinds of snow and about safety and how to go uphill and sort of go downhill and how to keep wallowing to a minimum. Hopefully in time I'll even get to be a pretty good skier.

Obligatory summit shot on Oliver Peak

I thought Tahoe had spoiled me, but this place will absolutely ruin me. Reports indicate that the quantity and quality are almost unmatched in the country. And here I've found the indescribable bliss of initial turns on fresh powder, a high so intense that people who taste it go on to chase it their whole lives.

On Skiing

It dumped snow on Wednesday and this evening brought more flurries. After spending a couple of days on the mountain last week, with sunny skies, 45 degree weather, and lots of people out to scrape the top layer down to a glassy slick, I finally understand why everyone gets so dang excited about fresh snow. Even better, the lodge where HR is located FINALLY opened lift access to the mountain today, and I hurried out mid-afternoon for the premium perk of resort work: the ski break. It was way easier returning to the desk after being wind-blasted and snowed on at 10000 feet.

Because no new sport is fun without some extensive craigslist trolling, I scored a pair of pristine used chick skis with real nice bindings at a killer deal. They are so fast and smooth and I'm learning how to haul ass without too many consequences. Good form, cool tricks, difficult terrain? That'll come eventually, I hope.

So pretty! And not girly at all. They are named the Queen, naturally

On Monday Elen and I (and to some extent Tyler) spent the whole day at the Heave and I finally reached the point where I was experiencing more exhilaration than fear or frustration. It's really tough learning a new sport when I'm so comfortable with the sports I know. It reveals my sometimes intense narcissism: I hate not knowing what to wear, how to talk, what company makes the coolest gear, what immediately gives you away as a total fred (except in winter they're called darrells).

Definite darrells

Fortunately I have several friends willing to aid me in the quest for legitimacy, and ruthlessly heckle me along the way.

Oh Yeah, That Trip...

only a month late...thanks to mitch, sarah, and brad for the lovely pics...

someone should make a movie about us

waco, tx: happiest place on earth...
right? 

a very fine looking bunch of rumps

there's a first time for everything

having entirely too much fun.
must remember to make serious face during races

in other news, after standing still for what has felt like a very long time, i've taken some small steps forward (with larger steps to come). my secret new year's resolution was "get out and get some", and also to a lesser extent "try new things"...more ambitious than my usual resolutions, but surprisingly successful so far.

i don't mean to be cryptic, but i'll spill more when i've held myself to my own promises. i don't want to jinx it by showing my hand too early. 

Still Here

As usual, I have failed my reader(s) in providing that most essential element of blogging: timeliness.

So remember how I went to California? And on the last day I was there I rode Mt Diablo? And planned to chronicle that ride? Well it was one of the best and most beautiful road rides I've ever done. Then I had to abridge it because of some nasty wind up top. So I was going to call my post "The Mountain Wins Again". You like that musical reference? I did. And then somehow seventeen days passed. The post (which was sure to be both clever and lyrical) never got written.

Oops.

It was around here on Mt Diablo that the wind reached 40 mph.

And now the Icycle has also passed. As always, it was the best race weekend of the year. We enjoyed lovely weather, good friends, an appearance by the Enemy Lovers, free beer from Pisgah Brewing, lots of spaghetti, and topped it all off with a silly death march of a group ride at Tsali on Sunday. It was cool to win both races but I do wish the lady turn-out had been a bit more substantial. Come on, girls!

My mother has been spamming me with links about San Luis Obispo, CA for a few days; she is convinced it's the spot for me. I'm inclined to agree but suddenly the weather has taken a turn for the (WAY) better and I am in less of a hurry to get outta here.

Dan Bennett getting all artsy. A good shot of the baby dino in action.

Spectacular Spectacular

Another awesome day. The Saint and I rode Macedonia Church this morning, which is such a great ride but lamentably a bit off the beaten path. The sunshine was lovely enough to make me forget the sub-freezing windchill. Having burned sufficient calories, I'm now packing them back on with brownies and espresso. Eventually I will start writing a paper but for now I'm just relishing the caffeinated, post-exercise glow. And then maybe some P&B (Pappas and Beer) with B&P (Baman and Piderman) tonight. Can life get any better?

"Sky Falls, You Feel Like..."

"It's a beautiful day."

-U2

I awoke to sunshine and I knew I was going for a run. The boys were headed down to Clemson for DH sessions but in the past week, my riding has been derailed by an assortment of frustrating circumstances. So I really wanted to make myself hurt on two feet.

Pisgah was gorgeous in the aftermath of so much winter weather. I decided to run Bennett Gap. The road up was still covered in eight inches of snow and based on the tracks, I was the probably the first person who had made it past the Twin Falls trailhead in a week. It was hard, slow going. As I climbed higher, the road became more and more littered with tree limbs and broken icicles started raining down, tinkling violently like hundreds of windchimes. I started to question the wisdom of a long solitary run on a deserted road but was having too much fun to turn around. I shielded my head and neck with my arms and continued to run, probably looking very silly. At the top I ate ice off the shrubs and enjoyed the glorious sun.

The rhododendron tunnel was like a bobsled track in Narnia, a steep slick chute framed in frozen mountain laurel berries. On the highest overlook that straddles the ridge I was overcome with awe...it was one of those infrequent times when I believe in God.

I would have given all the toenails on my left foot to have a camera during the run. Instead I had to steal a picture Todd Branham took back in December. But you get the idea.

The narrow half-track climbs were covered in smooth little ice baubles and as I clung to the barely-there trail and crawled through low-hanging rhodo, I sent them showering down the bank. The final descent past Coontree was fast and fun through soft snow drifts. I hate to disappoint anyone but I don't think we'll be riding Bennett for a long time. There are way too many trail obstructions.

Afterwards I sat in my car for a couple minutes, relishing the beauty and loathe to drive home. Then the Truslers, awesome local B&B owners, passed me and we chatted about their hike. That is why I love Brevard. You will always see someone you know on the trails.

It was far and away the best run I've ever done.

You Can't Have Cabin Fever Til February

Despite my protestations, I've now decided to prepare for road season. Because the only thing worse than a road race is getting dropped in a road race.
Fortunately, around here doing long rides is like sliding into tepid bathwater. Pretty easy.
Except, certainly not in temperature. It's really cold.
And also not in exertion level. It hurts something awful.
So the only way it's actually easy like stepping in the tub is that there are lots of nice people to join you. Wait. I don't mean to give the wrong impression of my social life. I hereby retract the analogy.
But what I'm trying to say is road riding is easy right now because a: there's damn snow all over the trails, b: there's damn chocolate all over my house, and c: other people (usually St. Marie the Enabler) want to do long rides too.
What was my point? Oh yeah. I'm totally taking a train to Seattle after I graduate. 86 hours, $260, nothing better to do.
Or maybe my point was that grits are even MORE amazing if you toast the corn meal first. Thanks, Baker Bill.This is why I won't be riding Long Branch anytime soon. Pic by Dan Bennett