Remember this post, when I said I was going to try to make this summer better than the last two? The last two that included climbing to the roof of Africa and rafting the Grand Canyon? I think, with Joanie as my partner in crime, we’ve succeeded in creating the best summer ever.
We rode our bikes a ton, and during 100 Miles of Nowhere, we rode well over 100 miles and raised more than 700 dollars for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Association. We made 6 trips back to Colorado to spend time with friends and family during weddings, reunions and adventures. Our annual Utah trip to Crumbly Rock was a blast. And then, something special happened at the beginning of August.
Judge for yourself…
Yup, that’s right! I’m making an honest woman out of Joan.
We’re gettin’ hitched!
“When two people meet and fall in love, there is a certain rush of magic.
The bottom line is that people are never perfect, but love can be. Loving makes love.
If love is the outlaw, the most any of us can do is sign on as its accomplice.
Love belongs to those willing to go to extremes for it.
True, most lovers don’t work hard enough at it or with enough imagination or generosity.
Who knows how to make love stay? What we have to do is work like hell at making additional magic right from the start. It’s hard work, especially when it seems superfluous or redundant, but if we can remember to do it, we greatly improve our chances of making love stay.
Now that I’m in love, I haven’t a clue. Now that I’m in love, I’m completely stupid on the subject.
Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules.”
-Excerpts from Tom Robbins’ Still Life with Woodpecker
A quick note from G Danger:
Here’s your friendly neighborhood blogger reminding you that next week (June 8 to be exact), I’ll be riding 100(ish?) miles to celebrate my 10 year cancer free anniversary! And I want you to join me!
The details can be found in this post: http://wp.me/p2wWFV-dt
With 100 Miles of Nowhere coming up, a few people have been asking if I’m ready for a 100 mile effort. I’ve only ridden +100 in one day on a mountain bike twice before: freshman year spring break on the White Rim and the 2008 Leadville Trail 100. I trained a lot for the latter, and went off the couch for the former. What kind of shape will I be in for next week’s event? Umm…the shape I’m in now, I guess.
I’ve been riding a lot, training hard and am ready to celebrate. Really, I have been training. Some. I mean, more than none. Joan has been too. Some, really. We even have “evidence”!
For example, here you can see my bike, artfully posed to demonstrate thoughtful trail consideration:
And here you can see my sweetie getting her shred on, with a tasteful visual metaphor likening her to a desert flower:
Here’s definitive “yes-I’ve-been-riding” evidence in the form of a “selfie” with my sweetie looking over my shoulder. Of course we’ve been riding!
And finally, a contemplative “pre-action” shot showing the beauty of Moab, which was where we were riding. We were!
Yes, we’ve been training. 100 miles sounds reeeaaallly long right now, but we’ll put in a good effort. My uncle Mark, bummed he couldn’t make it to Phil’s world, has been harassing some of his friends to get a remote 100 Miles of Golden/Tabletop/White Ranch/etc going in his neck of the woods. He said it best in his cajoling email: “Yes, 100 miles on a mtn bike is a bit rough, 10,000+ vertical feet hurts, but so does chemo when you’re 8 years old”
He got that right. On both counts.
RSVP for the event here: http://gg100miles.rsvpify.com/?preview=1
Looking forward to riding with you!
The summer of 2014 has officially begun for me. I just got home from my last class of the spring semester, I’m not taking any summer classes, and we’ve started packing for our first road trippin’ adventure.
This milestone gave me the opportunity to reflect on my last couple of summers. It was a nice trip down memory lane. I’ve had some pretty incredible summers. Monumental. They’ve included travel to exotic locals, outdoor pursuits, laughter, joy, pain, tragedy, love, family, friends and so much more. I’m so excited for this summer, and we’ve got some crazy cool plans for the coming months.
Taking a look back, 2012 gave me the opportunity to climb the highest peak in the continent of Africa, Mt. Kilimanjaro, in an effort to raise money for the Cancer Climber organization (founded by my buddy Sean Swarner.) I met the most amazing people and was humbled by the beauty and challenge of Africa.
At the summit: 19,304′ above sea level.
Approaching high camp, a.k.a. garbage camp.
Truly a life changing experience. That summer was liberating, challenging and mind-blowing. I also went skydiving, gallivanting with old friends and explored several 14ers in my backyard.
The summer of ’13 was similarly impressive. I rafted the Grand Canyon. Yes, one of the seven natural wonders of the world. I spent 16 beautiful days with 16 beautiful people in one of the most amazing places on earth. We hit the tongue and rode it straight (mostly! Oops, Lava!) for over two weeks of laughter. Thanks to LBK (Josh Kruger) for giving me the opportunity to take the trip. It was another one for the books.
Head first into the spray! Face shots for dayz.
Exploring the countless side canyons was a true highlight.
We live here right now?!? COOL!!!
So what does this summer hold for Joan and I? Sooooo many things!! Five trips back to Colorado, including a bachelor party (sorry Joan, I’ll be going solo for that!), the Dolores River Festival and 100 Miles of Nowhere, and a Rockies Reunion. We get to enjoy our family in Colorado a couple of times and play with our nephews, siblings, parents, cuzes, etc. We’re performing several times and teaching a three-week circus camp (Funtown Circus!) and exploring our new home in Flagstaff. We’re leaving for a week long camping trip in the vast deserts of Utah tomorrow. Life is good and summer is just beginning. Here we go!
This June, I’ll be observing my 10 year cancer-free anniversary. That’s a big deal. It’s crazy to think how much I’ve been through in that time, much less to think about what I was going through during and in between treatments. I endured six years of chemotherapy and in June, I’ll be 10 years out of the woods.
The amiable Fat Cyclist has a pretty cool tradition that he started in an effort to raise funds towards cancer research called 100 Miles of Nowhere. Every cycling destination seems to have a gimmick for endurance racing, with centuries, 24 hour, multi-day epics and a hundred variations on those themes. Fatty, in his typically absurd nature, decided he’d do a 100 mile race…
-in his basement.
And thus, 100 Miles of Nowhere was born.
It became a tradition that his faithful followers began doing in their basements, and then around their blocks and in other ridiculous locations for a race. The key was creating a crazy specific race category for your event, one in which ONLY YOU could possibly win (eg; 27-28 Male half way through grad school and 10 years off chemo).
I want to invite you to join me to celebrate, raise some money and ride some great trails. My 100 Miles of Nowhere will take on Sunday, June 8, in (an admittedly, non-ridiculous and actually really, really incredibly fun location) Phil’s World, an ideal location for group multi-lap rides. A few things to point out about the gathering and the riding:
- Don’t be intimidate by “100 miles”! The great thing about a loop system like Phil’s World is that you can make laps as long and as short as you like. Teams are encouraged for 100 Miles of Nowhere, so if you don’t think you have 100 miles in your legs, share the distance with a partner or two. The idea is that every gets to ride as much as they like and have a good time doing it.
- We want a festive atmosphere! Please come with fun things for the “pit zone”, aka the parking lot, the destination that all laps will pass through before heading out for me. This means bbq’ing, tasty treats, beer, music, (we might even bring our aerial dance rig!) etc.
- Phil’s world requests a $3 donation at the trail head for all non-annual members of Kokopeli bike club. Let’s throw them some additional cash for maintaining such awesome trails. You’ll understand why when you ride there…
- Unfortunately, there’s no camping allowed at the Phil’s World trail head. According to the BLM website, there’s camping “just back from the access point for Phil’s World” which is where we’ll probably end up.
- While this blog post, RSVP process and donation system are all very sophisticated, this is going to be a relatively bare bones event. The spirit is to get together, ride and have a good time. We’re not catering this thing. Bring food, gear, costumes, everything you’ll need for 100 miles in a somewhat remote location!
- The Dolores River Festival is happening Saturday, June 7 and if you’re coming for 100MoN, you might as well come early and watch Joan and I perform at DRF!
We haven’t established a fundraising goal and I don’t plan to get an official donation site up and running. I do ask, however, that if you decide to participate (and please do!), please make a donation to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Heck, if you’re reading this and can’t participate, please donate anyway! I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia at ages 8 and 13 and the research successes seen by this organization are partially responsible for me being here today.
More instructions will follow as RSVPs start to come in.
We hope to ride with you in June!
This Friday at midnight, hundreds of brave souls will voluntarily venture into a cold, hostile, barren environment. Many of them have been looking forward to the adventure all year long. Their collective goal? Travel, by ski, 40 circuitous, snowy, back-country miles and climb over 7,800 vertical feet to arrive at the Aspen base area smiling.
The Elk Mountain Grand Traverse (aka EMGT, aka GT, aka “the Traverse”) is an annual ski mountaineering race from Crested Butte to Aspen, CO. In the racing world’s seemingly endless search for “furthest”, “fastest” and “highest” superlatives, the GT is America’s oldest ski mountaineering race. It’s one that I’ve competed in four times and finished only twice.
The race can be brutal. It requires navigation of serious avalanche terrain in the dark. The race rules stipulate mandatory two-person teams rather than individual racers, as the dangerous nature of the event is somewhat decreased by traveling with a partner. Frostbite, gear failures and whiteouts have caused countless evacuations over the years, and occasionally the race changes format to an out-and-back loop due to treacherous, impassible conditions.
I’ve never had a really good race run in the Traverse. Twice my team had to turn around because of gear or body failures. The two times I’ve finished, my partner pulled me across the line (I was dragging ass) and I pulled my partner to Barnard, at which point he had to be evacuated on a snowmobile (he was dragging ass). In sum, none of these conditions were ideal and none left me with a satisfied, accomplished, “I (and my partner) really showed that race who’s boss” feeling.
That’s why, all the way in Flagstaff, Arizona, I’ll be watching at midnight on Friday. Racers are required to carry tracking devices and fans can watch their progress live online. I’ll be watching Smithy and Wick, JB, Billy, Ryter, the Western State Colorado University endurance ski team and all my other friends from back home, as they sprint up warming house hill and venture into the cold, dark night. I’ll feel their elation as they crest Star Pass and steel themselves in preparation for the decent into the basin below. I’ll feel the anxiety as the leaders take their mandatory 10-minute respite at Barnard Hut, nervously watching the trail behind them, strategically gauging their lead. And I’ll celebrate, with my hot coffee and fuzzy slippers, comfortable on the couch, as each of my Gunny/CB friends glides across that finish line in Aspen.
I’m looking forward to the night that I can once again step into my skis and try to raise my finishing average over .500.
“This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)”
For best results, please have the following tune playing (loud) whilst reading this post…
Pick me up and turn me round
(So I) guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It’s ok I know nothing’s wrong . . nothing
Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you’re standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Always for love
Cover up say goodnight . . . say goodnight
But I guess I’m already there
I come home she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time Before we were born
If someone asks, this where I’ll be . . . where I’ll be
Hi yo We drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
Share the same space for a minute or two
Love me till I’m dead
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head Ah ooh
(Thanks, LJ, for the care package. And obviously, I own zero rights to Talking Heads property and I’m broke so don’t sue me.)
Across the room, the shining red digits of the clock taunted my restlessness.
“Just close your eyes, the more you dwell on it the less you’ll sleep,” I told myself. I drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours and gave myself permission to check the clock again.
On the other side of the bed I could sense a similar sleepless agitation from Joan. We tossed and turned for a while longer, with the optimistic hope that sleep would come and give us passage to a more reasonable hour of the morning. “Want to get up and catch the sunrise at the Canyon?” I asked sarcastically.
A long pause.
“Umm…yeah! Let’s do it!”
We had already been planning on taking a day-trip to hike around the Grand Canyon. Sure, we weren’t planning on leaving for another seven hours, but what the heck? Neither of us was really getting any rest. How cool would a sunrise at the 7th natural wonder of the world be?
Turns out, really cool.
Yes, I look incredibly smug in this picture.
We found an excellent perch away from the crowds and prepared ourselves for a breathtaking dawn.
We were started cold but knew the sun’s warmth would soon be upon us.
And in came the sunshine…
The sun began to spread, showering the landscape in light.
As the the day began, so did our hike.
Signs warned of the dangers of heatstroke.
The trail crisscrossed and lead us down, down, down.
Cheerful morning hike!
A look back at where we started.
Walls all lined up.
Deadwood. Ooooor live wood.
The return trip. All uphill from here.
Adventures need good partners. I’ve got the best.
The view from the top is much different from being down on the Colorado River. This was my first trip to the rim of the big ditch, and Joan’s second (but first in adult life.) In case I’m stating the obvious, it’s enormous. Like, really, really big. Friends, come and visit us and we’ll got check it out. Seriously, it’s only 90 minutes from our house. How crazy is that?
Here’s to making yourself feel small once in a while. Cheers.
Fall is one of my favorite times of the year. As coy as I try to play sometimes, I’m not much for subtlety and fall offers a very stark and obvious change in the seasons, one that an observer can measure in the golds, reds and oranges sweeping across the hill side. The dipping mercury is a dead give-away, as is the inevitable frost that reappears each crisp autumn morning, growing more and more obvious as the weeks progress.
It’s a great time to ride a mountain bike.
Go for a hike.
Or enjoy some time with friends.
(Picture missing. Oh no, where are my friends?! I swear, they’re still on my camera, I just don’t have it with me…)
The cold winter months are fast approaching. They have no regard for how much you or I accomplished this summer, nor what we have planned. Ominous? Yes. Soon our valley will be awash in white, the days will be short and the temperature low. Not much hay left to be made, so get out there and appreciate the waning days of fall.
What have I been up to? Being busy…
…gave the 24 Hours of the Sage a run for its money in the Cruiser Category…
…jumped out of a perfectly functional airplane…
…and then off of a perfectly good bridge.
I’ve been camping a bit…
…hanging out with old friends…
…and watching a big ‘ole bike race come through our humble mountain hamlet.
(I might have even enrolled in a ballroom dance class. No photographs, please.)
Sometimes the least expected is the most excellent.