Who the Hell is maadjurguer?

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I like to ski, mountain bike, drink beer, cook and listen to any jam band I can get my hands on; all while making a complete ass of myself. Hopefully this catharsis is as interesting to others as it is to me.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Powderwhore's flick for the season

It's that time of year again folks....the annual gear guides have been out for a month and the pages of these magazines adorning my home are now as ragged and chapped as last seasons skins; wrapped in their bag all summer, eagerly waiting for that first snowy encounter of the season.  With temps still in the absurd range....we can all still live vicariously and watch from our comfy chairs, beer in hand.  I've always loved Powderwhore's entire approach to the ski flick....moving beyond the ski-porn which dominated the 2000's....these flicks capture the soul of the sport as much as the stoke.  Just a note....check out the zipper at 3:13 in this flick....I've watched it several times and am hoping I avoid that dragon for just one more season.....

 

Monday, September 26, 2011

Rancho Relaxo 2011

A friend of a friend has a tradition every fall called Rancho Relaxo....beer, bikes and tequila.  The first day we planned on doing some Sedona riding on the way up to the Rancho....so we fixed our sights on riding Highline.

In the waning 92 degree heat of summer, we left the Bike and Bean and started climbing....blurry shots of switchback riding were absorbed along with copious amounts of brow sweet on my viewfinder.  Never sure what I had, I kept shooting.....some good came of it with some slower exposure times.....

Fixing the exposure and contrast and shutter speed.....so you know.....just about everything.....I'm able to capture Chollaball on his new Pivot Firebird climbing a switchback....This'll go I tell myself.....

.....that slack head tube angle and front tire seem to gobble up anything in it's path.....

......but can you haul the rest of you along with it I wonder......

......waiting........

.........pushing........

......hauling......

.......... success......

Traversing along the cool, shady side of the hill.....a rider is seen below an azure sky which is holding down crimson and cream lithic expressions....a gentle breeze brings relief up here.....

Keeping an eye on the trail and the dirty side down is a full time job at times.....

Making our way to the saddle, a pause in the climbing is appreciated through smiles and laughter. I take an obligatory blue-bike shot against amazingly crisp red sandstone and sky.

It's hard not to admire the winding singletrack down below.....

....in spite of the landsape dominating the horizon above.

Descending off of the saddle, I get Alex and Chollaball set up for a shot......

 ....rolling in tandem......




In a steep slot, I hunker down in a crevice along with a shrub to watch Alex shoot this line.....it's steeper than it looks......


In some late afternoon light, I feel lucky to be in the right spot at the right time......







Finishing off the descent....a break is taken at Buddha beach.  I wash the cool waters over my face and arms while enjoying conversation with friends.....

The lushness of this oasis cleaved into fiery rocks is the definition of beauty....

.....but so is some beer and tequila with friends at the end of a well earned ride.

After a night of Relaxo....we decide to ride Shultz-LilGnarly-Jedi-AZT to Aspen Corner and back.  The light was a bit flat....but the riding was not....more fun with slow shutter speeds capture funny faces in a life gone blurry....

The mini-Relaxo crew for 2011.....from left to right....me, Mr. Relaxo....and the disturbingly jovial Pirate.

Mr. Relaxo being.....Relaxo......

Monday, September 19, 2011

Life without GPS

Last week I took some time off from work with the plan to set out on a bikepack from Flagstaff to the Canyon and back.  Unfortunately, my plan never survived the first engagement....leaving home with all my crap.  I left my backpack with camera, gps, iPod, rain jacket, tools and tubes at home.  Determined to forge on with my ride in spite of these modern conveniences, I bummed some tools and a pack from Dara, a camera from my dad and a trashbag instead of a rain jacket.  This decision came with many consequences, some negative and some positive.  The experience was nevertheless, rich in lessons as they often are.

I have to admit....you don't really know how much you rely upon a GPS until you suddenly find yourself without one....but I quickly became more aware of my surroundings as I made mental notes of landmarks as I progressed north through the rain squalls; comparing my experienced memories against how long I thought I should be taking.  I surprised myself at how fast it felt when I completed the climb up Schultz against a grey, menacing sky.

Progressing up the new sections of AZT, I climbed into a world recently forgotten by summer; bracken browning in the coming coolness of fall......

Being forced to seek shelter under trees when squalls would wash over me, rather than pushing forward in a protective shell of GORE-TEX, forced me into an interrupted tempo.  These irregular, yet enjoyable, intervals forced me to stop and look around a little more than I normally do.  Here, I witnessed the sun move shadows of cloud across the shining prairie surrounding Bismarck Lake.  Each passing line of clouds would bring a fast moving line of shadow projected upon the shimmering expanse of fall grass......

The decision to take water at Bismarck was welcomed because a detour to Little Spring would have put me a bit out of the way.  The Elk of fall had firmly trampled this water hole into a milky and muddy mess....perfect for filtering....

Waiting for some electrolyte tabs to dissolve, I found a lone flower looking out of place in this grey and browning landscape......

As I crested the hump along the AZT, I made quick work of the descent down to FR418 and beyond.  I reveled in the rapidly warming temperatures as I descended down into mixed Pinon and Juniper forests.  Feeling good in the sun for the first time that day, I stripped my arms of their warmers and left the coldness of the subalpine behind me....fast riding was in front of me.....or so I thought......

Cresting Missouri Bill Hill, I got my first glimpse of the raised lip of the Grand Canyon to my north on the skyline...and was humbled by a fast moving thunderstorm which was sending sparks just a few miles to my west.  Feeling exposed on this pass, I made my way down and to the north to find the smallest, lowest tree to seek cover from the storm.......

Rolling up as the rain began to pummel me, I broke out my bivy for the first time that day and sheltered for 30 minutes as the tempest washed over me....me, snacking on food and hydrating.  Peering out of my bivy, I snapped some shots of the mud which was starting to slow my progress in the short section of doubletrack prior to the storm......not a lot of mud clearance between that tire and the suspension box right now.....

There's still some mud clearance up front....but not much......

Post storm:  I continued on to the north in death mud conditions.  Attempts to ride in the field off the double track were as useless as riding on the double-track...it too was inundated from the prior storms the past 5 days......this marked my turn around point.  To continue from here meant carrying my bike across an unknown expanse of death mud, with more storms to come.  I resolved to turn around and modify my route......perhaps I'd ride around Kendrick....

Just 10 minutes later after riding back up Missouri Bill Hill, I heard and felt a snap with the sickening limp pedal feel that can only mean one thing........a snapped deraileur hanger.

Realizing that my spare hanger was in my pack....which was at home...with my rain jacket and tools....I used Dara's tools to break my chain, remove the deraileur and convert my full squishy to a Single Speed.  As I was doing this, an elk hunter came by and offered me a ride to the highway....I turned it down.  I was determined to self rescue this rapidly deteriorating ride of mine....plan be damned.

Riding back up into the Ponderosa forest to the south, I realized that a Bomb had just gone off and destroyed every single one of my goals for the trip....except one....to have a good time.  As I tore into my Bomb of a burrito, contemplating how liquid cheese can still be liquid at 45 degrees.......I came to my senses as I consumed this monstrosity and called for a ride from Flagstaff.....I would meet them at the intersection of FR151 and Hwy 180.....Riding back to Flagstaff at 5 mph was doable, but would have sucked as thoughts of my drivetrain exploding with every pedal stroke consumed me.

Coming to the end of my ride which had been defined by forgotten gear, weather and major mechanicals....I stopped to watch the sky light the horizon on fire.......

Realizing that for me to be in this place, at this time seeing this beautiful sunset against Kendrick Park; I HAD to go through all I did.  Otherwise, with a rain jacket, my gear, spare deraileur hanger and no weather....I would have missed this moment and would have been somewhere else entirely.  This ride took me places I never expected or planed.....which is what I've learned most about life in the past 3 years....it happens....it's up to you to keep riding through it.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Change

Details are everything when the seasons start to change....a note of "different" comes wafting through the air....a coolness just south of normal, catches your mind in the morning as you go about your morning ride.  At first, you doubt it's existence after a summer of certainty....and yet it eats at you until you search for it's roots and you find what you've sought......a change in season is upon us.

The skies begin to clear and the royal blue of a fall sky begin to appear above tendrils well versed in the change...

A coolness takes over.....the icy touch of an aspen along the singletrack with filtered sun overhead offers a cool respite....

....hug one this fall and you'll feel what I'm speaking of.......they hold the cool of night well into the day.....

Lichen covered rocks catch the first leaves to fall...the young buds of spring drift downwards and coat the trail heralding a season to come.....

North facing moss coat volcanic boulders, growing into a fading light which will soon disappear under a blanket of gold, then white.......

A Hookers Evening Primrose sits in a rare spot along the trail....catching my eye despite the high speed descent back home.....I fist the brake levers and back track.....the next day when I return, the flowers are wilted and gone from their beauty of yesterday......transition witnessed.....

A cool 37 miles and 4000ft gained on the day with my tempo meter pegged at 11 earn me a 'Lucky Buddha' Beer.....and a few other beers of less dubious construction, yet owning insufficient names such as Summersault Ale and Dales Pale Ale.

Light moments in camp are shared in laughter and experience along with an offering of broccoli florets and hummus; a micro-urban garden of sorts precipitates out of the joy of the forest......

Trips back into town pay homage to the best damn block in all of Flagstaff....home of a new brewery, a new bike shop and a new pizzeria......The corner of Mikes Pike and Phoenix might as well be Mecca for those of the two-wheeled persuasion......

After a calamitous storm the likes never experienced, the new day dawned much as the previous day..... Sassafras tank, or Alfalfa tank to those USGS Quad freaks, reflects the sky of a season yet to define itself as summer or fall.

The thistle drying in the garb of late summer...........

....is contrasted by the hint of fall in the air and the hidden promise of winter in the clouds; leaving snow above treeline in the rocky expanse of tomorrow.......my heart be still, for the next season will be here soon enough....

Turning around from the future, the present still shows the tall grass of later summer, drying in a stiff cool wind of fall.

A fading collection of energy from flowers long past their prime is still harvested from those industrious enough to try.

Caterpillars and butterflies still crawl and float about on the last flowers of summer....but their time in the sun is in short supply to this witness.....I wonder if they sense it too......

Floating along "The Trail", one can pick their poison....go low......

..........or stay high............

Trees soak up the last available moisture before the freezing variety falls.....an ooze of energy coats all seeds of hope....too young to contribute this season, hopeful in their abundance; they prepare for a frozen time in nurtured anticipation of an awakening still far into the future.....

Yellow Salsify, introduced from Europe, springs forth in the transition.  Optimistically exhibiting in the face of change, a star-burst of expression still goes a long way......

Micro-fungi grow from cracks in a dead tree....only to be witnessed by those who slow down to appreciate the details and beauty of hidden places.......

Filtered light of afternoon shades the bracken below in a variegated pattern......

Pure shafts of light enable some to flourish...........

........while others retreat from the pinnacle of summer and turn back into the earth with a fading of color.

First signs of the supernova of gold are found in select spots........

......cool droplets of rain from the night before rest upon the transitory nature of everything.....to the river goes the cloud...to the cloud goes the rain.....and to it all, those who travel the river will enter the path......

Those who float along these paths in the forest will return next spring....they ride in anticipation of a time when they can't....some will return, some will not.  But the path will remain the same........

A last glimpse offers a view into a world defined by change, and yet connected by a permanentness; perfectly in balance with the dichotomy we've created for ourselves.