Aberdeen Loop

I started mountain biking 6 weeks ago. While I do have a background as a road and cyclocross racer, mountain biking is a mostly new medium to me. The whole "riding over obstacles" thing has been a (very fun and challenging) learning process. 

In 6 weeks, I have ridden Fruita twice, Salida, Grand Junction, and Hartman's in Gunnison numerous times, not to mention the Contour and Signal Peak Trails out my back door. I have taken a women's clinic, ridden on my own most of the time and chased much faster riders down the trails. Each time I ride, I feel a little bit more confident, a little less nervous, and little more relaxed.

These past weeks, mountain biking has become a way for me to de-compress from the stresses of moving to a new town, to listen to my favorite NPR podcasts with no interruption, and to focus on one small obstacle at a time. While I record all of my rides on my Garmin, I don't really care if I am going 4 miles an hour or 12. And really, given my inexperience on singletrack, I don't know what a "good" time is. Nor do I really care right now. I am more interested in clearing that one obstacle I walked last time but just knew I could come back and conquer. Or stopping to see the magnificent view I have yet to tire of. Or reminding myself of those very basic but oh so important bike skills of higher cadence and efficient pedal stroke.

I have fallen in love with my mountain bike. I love where it takes me. I love how much it challenges me. I love that I can ride the same trail one week later and be a very different rider.

This weekend was a breakthrough of sorts. My parents were in town and so I rode early Saturday morning with Kirsten. We were pretty evenly matched- I am faster on the uphills but she is more competent on the technical portions. At this point in my cycling career, I have given up worrying if someone is faster or better than me (I never ever say "I'm sorry" for slowing people down. If you want to go faster and stop waiting for me, then GO. I will see you at the end. We will eat pizza.) but still. It is a rare treat to ride with someone who is A. a fun person and B. perfectly matched. I tried obstacles I wanted to try-sometimes pleasantly surprising myself, and I didn't try obstacles I didn't have the head for. In between, Kirsten and I talked, laughed and enjoyed the scenery, the weather, the company. 

And then there was today. Today was a big day. Not only because Hazel took off to Disneyland with her grandparents, leaving us with ONE (ONE!) child for the week (OMG ONE CHILD IS SOOOOO FREAKING EASY) but also because Brian and I hired a babysitter so we could ride some singletrack together for once. We chose the Aberdeen Loop at Hartman's because we would never do it alone. And also? We are dumb. Because the loop is pretty long and because the weather was kind of insane. Like, thunder and lightening insane. We found ourselves facing down four different lightening storms complete with sleet and ZERO shelter while riding today. I also found myself riding through slick trails, wet sand, starvation, exhaustion, and cold temps and you know what? I ROCKED THAT THING. Okay, so I walked some. But overall, I have zero regrets on my riding skills. My decision skills, YES. But my riding skills, no. AND I rode the longest I ever have on a mountain bike: 22 miles. I know. 22 miles for a roadie is like a snack with 10 calories in it. But 22 miles on a mountain bike with 2700 feet of climbing in a thunderstorm is LEGIT.

At least for me. So don't argue.

I am tired. I am happy. I have a very dirty bike (damn storms). And tomorrow I will hop on my road bike for a recovery spin with Anna. But I will be thinking of singletrack and thunder and views to the end of the earth and chasing speedy Brian down the trail.

Welcome to Hartman's. Where you meet a friend at every trail intersection. Here, Kirsten has a morning convo on top of the world.

What I ride when I'm not on my mountain bike, road bike, cross bike or cruiser: My minivan. (my parents shot this during the weekend)

SO SO HAPPY MY PARENTS CAME TO VISIT!

The Aberdeen Loop. Nowhere to hide. Better start riding.

Riding. I should probably go faster.

Hey look! A brief moment of sun!

We are either delirious or really freaked out.

Oh, you know. Just posing with my bike. What storm?

Thoughts on being a mom. And a wife and a cyclist and an educator and a skier and a friend and a reader and and and...

Things were little different this year for Mother's Day as I am now the mom of two kids, not one, which increases life's chaos ten-fold. (true story. Do not let anyone tell you that it's not much more difficult to have two kids instead of one. It is a lie.)

This basically means I am doubly blessed. I tend to be biased but my kids are pretty damn awesome. And I think about/worry about/celebrate them in real life much more than I do on this blog. Mainly because this blog is about me but also because in any given moment I may or may not identify as a mother. 

Yes, I am always a mom. That never stops. But when I'm on the bike or in the classroom or riding the chairlift, my kids are often NOT the first thing on my mind. I don't spend every waking moment plotting how to make them happy or anticipating their every need. Truth be told, I spend a lot of moments plotting bike or ski trips and figuring out how to spend more time with Brian. 

And you know what? I never feel guilty about that. In fact, I feel really satisfied with how my life works. I spend a lot of time with my kids. I spend a lot of time at work. I spend a lot of time on the bike or on skis. I WISH I spent more time with just Brian (that's what babysitters are for, right?).

Mainly I do all of those things and feel that way because that's just who I am. I wasn't going to have kids and then suddenly lose all of my other identities. It's not how I roll. A secondary benefit though is being an example to my kids. You CAN have everything and not feel bad about it. 

To wit, I spent 3 hours riding singletrack with Miriam and Mark yesterday (holy crap, I got WORKED) and 3 hours riding the pavement on skinny tires with Brian today to celebrate Mother's Day. And then I came home and snuggled with my kids and thought, Man I have it good.

Happy Mother's Day.

These guys stole my heart.

When I grow up, I want to ride like Miriam. New goal: Be a Bad Ass mountain biker.

Mountain living. It pretty much does not suck. 

Uh...thanks for waiting for me. Much appreciated.

My original road riding partner and still the best. I'll draft off him any day.

Happiness.

This guy stole my heart 14 years ago. He's still the #1 person in my life.

Sweet Salida singletrack

This is obviously not a picture of singletrack or mountain biking, but I thought it worthy of posting here. On Friday, I picked up this beautiful bike. I call it my minivan because this is the closest I will ever get to owning a minivan. It's sweet and rides smoother than my cruiser bike. Hazel loves it, Tygh loves it, even Brian loves to ride it (it's adjustable for our different heights). Win win win.

After a raucous Friday night of eating Indian and Nepali food and going to the First Friday Art Walk, we woke up Saturday morning and headed to Salida for a different kind of pedaling.

We found this:

It turns out that the singletrack in Salida is awesome- perfectly suited to our ability levels, well signed, easy to follow, with great views. So worth it. Especially since it's a whopping one hour drive away.

Saturday night, however, was not a gold medal night for us. It was ridiculously windy and pretty cold (colder than Gunnison- WTH?). Our camp stove broke. Hazel was being quintessentially FOUR. Tygh woke up at 2:30am and proceeded to scream for an hour. In moments like that, we always question our "camp as much we can" ethos and wonder if it would be better to Just. Stay. Home.

Cooking Girl Scout Style (over the fire). We debated just going out to dinner, but then we realized the foolishness of our conversation. Seriously. We had a fire. We could do this. So we did. We had a lot of carbon with our dinner but it was delicious nonetheless.

After so many nights of camping and sleeping 11-12 straight hours, we were apparently owed a non-restful night. Tygh thinks this is very funny. Brian does not.

As I was getting ready to ride at Methodist Mountain, Hazel decided it would be cool to be a trail runner. No way am I going to disagree with that. She was gone for a good five minutes before we started asking each other if we should hunt her down. Oops.

From my Mt. Hood Ski Patrol jersey and my O2 Endurance bike shorts all the way down to my Cherry Blossom Stage Race socks and Keen bike shoes...Oregon REPRESENT!

Upon our return home, Brian thought it would be clever to inventory the amount of items we take camping and take a picture. He came up with 639 items.

On Sunday, I was in downtown Salida with the kids while Brian was out riding. I laid Tygh down on a towel on the sidewalk and Hazel spread all 200 of her dolls all over the sidewalk, making sure that anyone who had to walk past had to step gingerly over her dolls. As I tried to discreetly change out of my bike shorts, a man walked by and asked, "WOW. You must be on a really long camping trip." Uh...no. We're only out for one night, thank you very much. This was after I met a couple on the trail earlier in the day who asked me if we live out of our truck.

Can you say, "SHIT SHOW"?

And, as it happens every weekend, we came home tired, happy, dirty and hungry. We regretted not a single moment of our trip and immediately started discussing our next adventure.

Because we have no short-term memory. But also because we love to be outdoors together, shit show or no.

As a side note, I saw this and laughed my ass off at the comments. Hut-to-hut hiking with a 1-year-old? Fine. But carrying said 1-year-old in a front carrier and still shouldering a full pack just so I can go "backpacking"??

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

Yeah...no. That's never going to happen. Even I have my limits.

Desert rats

We went to Fruita/Grand Junction for four days and basked in the desert sun. It was wonderful. I got a tan. The kids got dirty. And I spent all of Wednesday day dreaming about riding instead of focusing on my job.

Though if you want to be completely honest, there were some moments in which I completely questioned our sanity. Camping and riding with two kids is not what I would characterize as a "relaxing" vacation. I brought my Kindle and read exactly zero pages. I managed to read one whole magazine page. Between riding, kid wrangling, making dinner, cleaning up from dinner, getting kids to bed...I need a vacation from my vacation.

Just kidding.

Maybe.

It was and is all so so worth it. But...*YAWN*.

There was a moment on Saturday night when Tygh was fast asleep on the floor of our itty bitty trailer and Hazel "accidentally" stepped on him, thereby waking him up for the next two hours and causing me to spend that entire time making circuits of the campground with him in the Ergo just hoping he would fall back asleep...at that point, I was seriously dreaming of a luxury hotel with a spa. Alone. Very, very alone.

But then there were other moments when Hazel sat around the campfire with us, negotiating over the number of s'mores she was allowed to eat or when Tygh ate breakfast with us on a glorious desert morning, laughing at nothing in particular except for the fact that his family was all together, enjoying a desert spring.

And there was the riding. Oh, the riding. Fruita is known as a hotbed of mountain bike riding and for good reason. I would also contend that the road riding is pretty spectacular. Brian and I both rode the Monument (though on separate days because you know...kids) and it is a top ten road ride in my book. I have ridden many, many beautiful places and the Monument is definitely up there. The only downside is that I wanted to take pictures on the entire ride but I was either going up and reluctant to stop and cramp or down and I didn't want to give up my speed. Luckily, Brian is more proficient with a camera while riding than I am and he took some better pictures on his ride.

On Sunday, I did something I've wanted to do for a couple of months: I took a singletrack skills camp. It didn't change my life or anything, but it gave me a lot more confidence. I definitely learned what I am capable of on a mountain bike AND I learned how to be more capable when I come upon features that really frighten me. I rode a trail I would probably never have done by myself (since I seem to do most of my riding alone). I did some things I never would have done by myself. I won a pair of Keen mountain biking shoes.

It was a good time and money well spent.

The next day, Brian rode the same trail and took some pictures for me since I was too busy "camping" to get any of my own.

The hike-a-bike down to the trail. No, I did not ride this. I value my limbs and my life. Also, uh...NO. Though I did see one guy attempt it. He did not make it.

Desert sunsets are pretty rad.

You know what else is rad? Spending time with my two favorite under-age characters, even if it is just a short "hike" along the Colorado River.

On Monday, I met up with a Twitter friend for a short, easy ride through the farm country around Grand Junction. I was more tired from the previous two days than I thought. Those twenty miles seemed much more difficult than necessary. Fortunately, I had Kristin to keep up with and keep me entertained.

So, how do you keep a 4-year-old entertained while Mom and Dad take turns riding? You take her to the dinosaur museum to see blood and gore, of course.

On the last day, I decided to ride Tabeguache Trails. You know, as a last hurrah. Ha. Ha. Ha. I chose the Holy Cross trail. Apparently, Holy Cross meant I would be making the sign of the cross more than I actually rode. Because that shit was hard. Much too hard for me, especially alone, tired after three days of riding and with zero experience on that trail. The good news is that my bike makes a fine hiking companion. The bad news is, well, I wussed out a ton. I know there were some moves on that trail that I was perfectly capable of riding but I was just too tired, too alone and too wrapped up in my own head. So I hiked. 

I don't feel too bad about it. The trail lead to Holy Buckets which was much more doable. 

The main trail out resembles Mars. I think. Having never been to Mars, that is nothing more than an educated guess.

Thus concluded four days of riding, camping and hanging with the family. By the time we made it home at 6pm, everyone was exhausted. Everyone except the kids, who had slept the entire two hours home. No rest for the weary around here.

I have spent the past 24 hours thinking about bikes and plotting our mountain bike trip to Salida this coming weekend. Only three more days.

The view from Sunday evening

We stayed in town this weekend, with no real plans other than catching up on sleep and riding our bikes. Brian has been working 12 hour days in preparation for his brand launch on Friday and I was just freaking tired. On Friday, I snuck out the door after work as fast as I could, busted my ass home and went for an hour spin on the Contour Trail out our back door. It was the best way to end what seemed like a never-ending and frustrating week.

On Saturday, I took the kids to the Community Cleanup so Brian could get some alone time and just BE. He ended taking the mountain bike out for a spin and taking a nap, which he sorely deserved. Then I spent Saturday evening making the skinny tires go in circles with Anna up Ohio Creek Road. It was windy and alternately cold and warm and sunny and cloudy but oh, it was wonderful.

And then Sunday. Brian took off with some guys on some ridiculously challenging mountain bike ride for hours and hours and I stayed in my pajamas until noon. I had a baby shower to attend in the afternoon. Regardless of who the baby shower is for, those things make me TENSE. I feel socially awkward and I never know what to say, even if it's my best friend who's having the baby. Why can't we just go to a bar and the pregnant lady can watch us get drunk?

It ended later than planned and I called Brian to say, "Maybe I don't have time to ride?" His response was "SHUT UP, GET OFF THE PHONE AND GET ON YOUR BIKE." And then he hung up so I couldn't even argue.

He's a smart man because I found myself riding much harder than planned. Stress much? After 800 feet of climbing, I was rewarded with this view and smooth, flowy, downhill singletrack for the next 3 miles (yes, I am aware this picture shows a dirt road. This was the best vantage point for the picture. The singletrack is off to the left. I promise.).

It does not suck to live here.

Tuesday

Since we came home from Fruita, all I can think about is riding my mountain bike, no matter how slowly and easily.

That's not wrong, is it? Because if it is, I don't want to be right.

Fortunately, I live in a pretty good spot for trail access. Right out my back door, I can ride singletrack for miles- even ride up a peak if I wish or, if I am feeling super ambitious, I can ride all the way to Salida on trails.Down the road a few miles, I have access to a network of trails at Hartman's Rocks. And in the summer, all of Crested Butte is at my fingertips.

So many trails, so little time.

That's getting a little ahead of myself though. For now, I am still confined to easy riding, in an easy gear. And on Tuesday, I did just that. Coincidence was on my side and both Brian and I got off work early for a quick spin on the the Contour Trail.

Did you catch that? WE RODE TOGETHER. Sometimes the universe DOES work in my favor!

It made my day. Some days, my job drives me insane and it was the perfect escape. One hour of riding on beautiful singletrack, home in time to pick up the kids from daycare and make dinner?

I love this place.

Fruita

Last week, my pt gave me permission to do some easy mountain biking. I took that as code for "Head to the desert". Never one to go against my pt's wishes, we did just that.

And OMG OMG OMG it was rad. Well, to be honest, the 60mph sandstorm on Saturday night was decidedly NOT rad. But the rest of it was. I rode my bike on some flowy, smooth singletrack (spinning easily of course) and spent a crazy amount of time taking pictures of scenery when I should have been riding. The kids buried themselves in sand (well, Hazel buried herself in sand. Tygh just looked around in bewilderment). Brian raced and then rode some more.

It was successful weekend despite the sandstorm driving us to a motel on Saturday night. While we do have a trailer, the prospect of spending 12+ hours with all 4 of us in our miniscule 50 square feet while sand made its way into every nook and cranny was less than appealing. We are not proud. And we all slept 9-11 hours snug and sand-free in our motel room (Tygh continues to WIN on these trips, logging 11-12 hours of continuous sleep. We are planning on keeping him.).

We will be back to Fruita in 2 weeks. I am counting the HOURS.

Desert Rat. In a Bumbo.

Now, he's a hood ornament. He's a versatile baby.

Off to ride. Hazel is wearing her nightgown because apparently nightgowns are appropriate desert attire. Also, I learned long ago that the fight about clothing choices? NOT WORTH IT.

Brian rescues our camp furniture from the sand storm. I am still cleaning sand out of my ears.

Home for the night. The trailer was sad not to spend the night in the desert. I was not.

Pre-race. This was his first USAC race (vs. OBRA) and I have this to say: LONG LIVE OBRA! $45 for a 30 minute race?? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. You suck, USAC.

Start line. This was THREE fields. True story. Good job attracting amateur racers, USAC.

It was a windy during Brian's race. Super windy. The trailer served as a refuge for two kids who sort of not really care about bike racing.

My bike likes the trails off 18 Road.

Scenery and blue sky.

My bike also likes trails near Kokopelli's.

The mighty Colorado River. It doesn't compare to the might Columbia- it just offers more sun.

You see cool things when you ride a bike.

Bliss.