It's all about The Dirt:

This was part of the Banff Mountain Film Festival that I saw in Durango a couple of weeks ago. This amazing picture and other short films took me to ends of the Earth on things like a bike, skis, parachute, and rowboat with all the moments of elation and pitfalls.

If this film festival is in your area and you love adventure, it’s a must see. I’m signing off to a snowy winter with lots of sweet pow, and hopefully next year we’ll have just the same (or maybe more). Injoy…

A sneak peak at a spring fling.

I digress, or regress, or repress…or whatever. I do want spring to come, but I also want the snowpack to collect so we can have a raging river come melt-time. For the bike community in Durango, February is the antsy month. The clock’s ticking, the winter month’s dwindling, but the snow storms still roll in. That’s when the mountain snow-birds fly the coop South to unburied singletrack. December was my turn, but I’d like another chance to feel the warm sun on my legs again…soon. Although singletrack is my first-and-true-cycle-love, my legs do hit the road too.

The Ironhorse Bicycle Classic road ride lurks upon us like a sneaky snake; snatching days, hours, minutes for the final turn at 47 miles, 5,700 ft of climbing over 2 mountain passes, thin air, and fast descents. A chance to race the steam train on an open road up to a small mountain town called Silverton, CO.

The energy and buzz of the Ironhorse weekend is like when the circus came to town as a kid. Pro cyclists galore, races all weekend and the excitement of heading through the main drag of Silverton with thousands of people cheering you on.

A feeling
I’ll never forget.

Spring still is a sketchy time for climbing mountain passes. You can have bluebird skies with a windbreaker and shorts, or the mountains can trick you with a snow/sleet/rain/ice combo. The San Juan Mountains can make you wish you never messed with the dangerous dance of skinny tires, no guardrails and high speed.

Train for the train. Get those hours in and blow out the lung cobwebs. Spin those legs and condition your body to climb into the sky for what feels like forever, but once you’re done, it’s one of the most euphoric moments ever. What it takes for a car with enormous horsepower to climb, you can climb on your own two legs…in less than a day.

I think wheels are one of best man-made inventions ever.

I do confess, one of the reasons I ride road is so I don’t really have to think. Of course, you obey traffic signals, watch out for big diesel trucks that spit fumes in your face, and steer clear of mindless drivers who are oblivious to bikers. I can mentally check out somewhat on the road, but when I’m on singletrack, there’s no option; have your head in the game or you get bloody.

So I dream of those wispy days with a full Camelbak, twitchy legs, and tires full of air to take me there: Back to spring that’s full of pollen, cool breezes (or should I say gusts), and newly budding grass. I love to set my eyes on the cactus blooming, the puddles full, creeks and rivers rushing, and the leaves a brilliant green. We’re almost there, I swear. It just makes me appreciate it all the more when I have my sweet love affair with singletrack once again.

Just some more storms, more melt, more daylight, more warmth and it’ll be here in no time…

How does February make you feel?
Are you done with winter yet?
How do you appreciate the end of the winter?

(dgo singletrack photo credit)
(mountain biking photo credit)

Other moves to breakaway from the “Pedal Yawn”:

Mix it up:

Try something new, or old. Break out those bamboo skis and poles and knock out some snow loops with some unfamiliar moves. Rent skate or cross country skis, snow shoes, downhill or something else. Go…make a fool out of yourself. It’s extremely humbling if you think you’re hot stuff on your bike. You may not be so hot on those skis, but you’re using different parts of your brain for firing muscles you never knew you had. And you might even make someone else’s day by giving them a good laugh. Cross training makes your bike look fresher than ever.

Multi-tasking:

Make your ride a social affair. Shake it up a bit with your friends: Tell stories, laugh, enjoy the company and watch the miles and hours fly by. Go on a group ride and feed off the energy; meeting new people and love the connections you’re making with others that share a similar passion. I’ve treasured the friends that have encouraged me up arduous climbs, down scary descents, laughed with me on careless mistakes, challenged me on a sprint, gave me Bandaids when I’m bleeding, and shared breathtaking views. Friends make the wheels go round.

Bike bonding:

Take a look at that sweet bike of yours. The shine, the grit, the gears, smooth and sleek. Shift a gear and be thankful…be oh so thankful to spare your quads the agony from the hammer and grind of a super tough gear. Touch it, bond with it, name it, love it. Admire it and believe that it will carry you over mountain passes, sometimes faster than cars (that’s my favorite part). Pick it up and feel how light it is, and think that you could be trying to pedal a tank. Or ride someone else’s bike that’s not so nice, then get back on yours to feel how your bike is an extension of you. Take care of it’s parts, and it will take care of you. Yes, I know it’s just a “thing”, but a good perception of a “thing” takes on a whole new meaning. Oh, the places you can goooooo.

Mindless spinning:

Spin classes or trainers are like sitting in a car revving the engine with no “D” for drive. Sit on a spin bike for hours, regardless of the music or the instructor, and you’ll be so grateful to get back on the real bike with the wind in your face and the sights to see. The stale, indoor air… the crawling clock… the harsh, fluorescent lights… sweaty bodies boxed in a room make no substitute for the “real deal”. No spin bike or trainer can truly mimic the actual ride on a bike, nor can your senses or spirit absorb the full experience. Get “boxed up” for awhile, and the chilly, outside rides start to look a bit more appealing… properly dressed, of course.

Do you ride for the love of riding? Do you try to make it the best experience possible?

(Photo credit)

Confessions of a Mom perpetually dancing in cyberspace:

2 am Brilliant idea I had while drying my hair half awake so I don’t have to sleep on a wet pillow. I have this weird thing about showering before bed. It just makes me sleep better.

3 am Norah, the 6 yr. old announces “I just need someone to snuggle with”. How can you pass that up? Back to zzzz.

6 am Devin, the 11 yr. old asks “Can I have carob chips in my snack for lunch today?” More zzzzzz.

7 am Elle, the 9 yr. old comes in to say good morning, but it’s not morning for me yet. Then zzzzz again.

8 am “Mom, can you get up and make me breakfast? I’m really hungry.” I say sure, just as soon as I get up…zzzzz.

Get up. I need to feed my birds, as I say.

Why is the floor crunchy? Why is the laundry room floor heaped? Where did those jeans come from that are capris now? Are you going to get out of your pajamas today? Is your butt glued to the seat? Why do you have two different socks on? Didn’t you have that shirt on for the third day in a row now?

Ahhhh…where’s the balance? My finger’s on it, then it goes away. I catch it again, then it disappears as fast as it reappears. Is Dirt filling my eyes, ears and brain? I understand there are waves of inspiration, but this is insane. If my head fills with anymore memories, blog titles, ideas that whisk me away to some imaginary place and having a beehive brain, I’m checking myself into bloggers anonymous…already.

As is with every new and exploding adventure, the flame will turn to a spark.

I relish in the momentum. I’m amazed at the whirling storms within my thoughts. Thunderheads of energy. Squalls that stir up the wind in my life, and then bring it a breath of fresh air. Opening up my eyes to a new way of thinking. Stepping out to experience “a seamless connection” with new ventures. Come share one with me…

My solo snowshoe hike in the dark:

It was the sweetest snowshoe hike ever. Glistening snow, muffled sounds, deep steps in the snow up the road. I work up a sweat within five minutes. The quiet sounds of my snowshoes turn squeeky and clunky as I travel on the plowed road, and then I arrive at the trail. There it was…looming in the darkness, waiting for me to travel on it’s white blanket. I climbed over the plow bank and started up, huffing and puffing all the way. Climb, breathe harder, climb, breathe harder. I turn a switchback, duck under a sagging branch, and stop to catch my breath. My heart is leaping out of my chest and looking for a bit of calm. I squint at the peaceful setting as snow lands in my eyelashes, standing high on a mountain top with a fuzzy view of the valley below. My headlamp illuminates the way to a path of animal tracks left like a trail of breadcrumbs for me to follow. It’s so incredibly beautiful and the best high ever; it’s euphoria at it’s finest. I have no fear.

Afterwards, I settle back down to my family, to my life and to my next adventure. The tried and true vs. the exciting and new.