Tequila Tree 2.0

Her presence long past

guarded over a stash.

The bottle we once left,

sat hidden amongst the best.

But yesterday I retrieved,

the last of her gift;

a contribution of gold

which passed between her lips.

I left in place, a necklace paired;

beads, brass and feathers,

floating free in the air.

The feathers belonged, to a bird of prey,

which I found lying still as I pedaled along my way.

Staring at beauty, even in pause;

I reached down to feel its golden sharp claws.

Or talons I recall, stained bright yellow, like it's beak or maw; 

her locks of gold, took my innocent breath.

I plucked from it's body its flight modus in death.

They're now tied to a necklace, with beads adorned;

like a noose on my neck, my hopes were bored.

Bored of waiting for an opening in the trees,

for her to pass through and leave insanity.

The moment never came, the present became the past;

when custodians of infinity, left a piece of brass.

A token for her to hold, in her journey through fires, 

which took her human form which had too soon expired.

For many a month, this talisman meant to me;

a symbol of hope, in the spaces in between.

Wings no longer fit to soar,

form a reminder of what is in store,

for all of us will fall to the earth, like the bird of prey,

and the golden woman, who made my every day.

Until that day....not yet I say,

I will ride to the toast, and toast to the ride;

With every pedal stroke, my heart swells inside;

the future now, the horizon confides;

your path is anywhere, you place your mind.

This cairn of granite still contains some glass;

holding tequila and memories past;

Formed of picture and words, protected from rain;

she's now at peace, no longer in pain.

For the memory of her gift, will stand in guard

over this cairn of gold, this expression at large.

But what of the original bottle, is to become of itself,

which I removed from its rocky shelf?

You ask for sure, wanting to know more;

I say to you that more is in store.

For a second tree, born of her spirit;

is in the works today, of which you'll soon hear it.

Rising from the ashes of what is left,

A phoenix always rises among the best.

The McDowells will hold, the bottle removed;

In a rocky cleft, the gold imbues,

your climbing efforts and soaring views.

In search of the breeze

Around October, the breeze dies down and lays still until March...or so most years go.  This personal weather change of mine, of wholesale fabrication by design, heralds the long awaited ski season.  I downgrade my bike for shorter rides, eschewing the long days of summer and tire for the grippy cold skintrack in powder.  This year, the breeze has started up very early....all because Father Winter has turned into a one-pump chump in these parts.  It was under Father Winters failure of high-pressure and blue skies where I found myself experiencing a short solo beatdown on the AZT segment from Superior to the Gila River and back.....along the way, I found my breeze.  

What better occasion to throw my salt encrusted cycling glove into the ring for the AZT300.....Fearing what this means....I climb up seeking the breeze.

The breeze is something you lose for a bit when you haven't been riding the long ones for a few weeks.  It can come along and help you out when you're out of touch, out of communication, out of food, out of water, out of....time......Its the only thing that gets you through the ride sometimes.  Here, when I peer down into the abyss for the first time....I hope for the breeze to find its way to me by the time I have to climb back out........

.......the trail seemingly goes on forever, pushing down into the dusty haze of the lowland deserts.....The breeze here becomes gravity....for now......

Gravity pushes me along into another canyon, out of view from the previous canyon and into a new one......

...the ink-black depths set against the toothy cliffs on high suck me in.....

....it's impossible to just RIDE through here....every few minutes, I'd find more jaw dropping scenery falling away from both sides of the singletrack.....

Scrambling down a bit in hopes of seeing the bottom of this canyon....I fail....it's down there somewhere I trust....mark that one for future exploration.....

The breeze pushes me along, at times feeling as in flight.....

On my turn around back down in the lowlands if the Gila....the breeze holds strong....I settle into a gear and resign myself to pedal....and then I loose my memory....this usually happens when the breeze blows the strongest, drowning out all thought.  I can't say I remember anything of the climb other than the left-right-left rhythm in my legs, my lungs and my heart......It was after this, I found myself back on the ridge, this time looking back from where I came earlier in the day....

Sensing the close of the ride and unknowingly lamenting the impending separation from the breeze....I pause more, breathing in the light, rock and plants around me....

The landscape in my solitude, disturbs and delights.  The immense remoteness contrasted against the comfort of the breeze I feel in this harsh land of thorn and cliff is what fuels my ride....

....the breeze causes me to pause and marvel at alien bioforms clinging to ferrous rocks......

.....a breeze that presents itself in tilted strata against open skies as I contour across each step-like escarpment.....

....and it's a breeze that reminds that although winter may be on hiatus for a time, the snows beneath the pine of the Pinal mountains off in the distance tease at a quick return....

My new mistress winter

On the 1st day after the Winter Solstice, I sought a final release....a release which has been long overdue.  This plan started with a vision I had during my last bikepacking trip of the summer season....a vision which I shared in an email to a few friends and family immediately following that trip.  Yesterday, that vision came true....what I wrote back in September is quoted in italics.

Gearing up outside of the truck....Graham's whimpering became a constant reminder to hurry up and adjust my bindings and skis.....

Sunflowers are hard to come by in winter in a grocery store, so I grabbed the bouquet with the most yellow "sunflower" like flowers and strapped it to my pack for the climb up to the clearing I had envisioned.  As I skinned through the forest, I could feel the Folgers coffee can holding her dig into my back....a reminder that I was taking her to this spot one last time.  Listening to a few choice songs on the iPod, "I made my way to the clearing at the edge of the dark forest, thoughts of black and white swirling about in my head like the soft snow falling at my face......."

".....Walking out into the open expanse, snow slowly falling from above....the promise and potential of a warm dawn is dead...the heated romance that once was summer is gone......."  It is here that I paused for a few minutes and reflected.....Graham sensed something too and became much more stoic....

Climbing higher, I started to notice Graham struggling on the skin track.  The soft powder was not compacting enough under my skis for him to pass....so I helped him along physically in spots....and realized that he was helping me along in other ways.  I felt that he was helping me through this process of return, acceptance and release......What I had envisioned as a somber trip...was mixed with happiness and joy at my companions occasional hijinks....new beginnings for both of us.....cut into the virgin canvas of snow....on a skin track symbolizing a climb out of the darkness....

Arriving at the spot I had seen in my vision many months ago; I dug out a bivy for Graham and I to sit in, protecting us from wind while we watched passing clouds drop the occasional stellar dendrite from the sky...

   

Above me I planted the yellow flowers in the snow, lay down and cried a mixture of emotions....

Removing her from my pack, I planted the rest of the flowers at the spot I last saw her adventurous spirit....a fight to live life, a will to explore and a drive towards new experiences.......this is the lasting memory which will triumph over the memories of sickness and death......

 ".......He lets go of the memory as he falls into love with his new mistress winter....." 

"........It is here she comes to rest for time immortal amongst the snow and sunflower owned only by seasons eternal..."

Returning home, I make a few cautions turns in the thin snowpack....I look back to view our spot one last time as an eye in the sky looks down upon me.

That night as I lay in bed....the sound of a winter storm raging above me kept me awake for most of the night.....several inches of new snow had fallen.  My new mistress winter has come home.

Road Trip

A trip across the expanses of time....geography....is a thing to behold. A road trip is a brilliant event marked by experience, expectation and newfound experience.  As in all seasons there must be a marker thrown down on the ground to identify the change......a change in seasons marked by the falling leaf of fall.  Our season is now marked by the fallow bike gear in the garage in place of the wax iron stinking up the closet......a closet that now smells more of melted P-Tex and wax as opposed to Stans's Sealant and ATB lube.......the search for the crystal.....the zero-gravity mass which lifts us up......the cloud of frozen Hydrogen and Oxygen in a 2:1 ratio....it awaits us all.....

The darkness of a straight road cuts below the pregnant low clouds of a leading low-pressure system presuppose a healthy dump........

The climb on the first day up Alberta Peak, against the helmet of the man before me,  reminds me that the race is on......never slow in your search for powder....for there will always be another before you.......strive to be the first.......

.....the mantra to be first is etched in my toes of winter.....with every step I take, I peer down and realize my own commandment.......climb....CLIMB......Never stop climbing.....never stop attaining what you dream of.....never stop reaching........for this is the goal....the fight, is the goal.....and you'll never get there......Climb Dammit!!.....and if you stop.... well.....then...you're probably dead....

.....but never forget, that climbing blindly will result in folly.....climb with caution, climb with knowledge, climb with certainty......climb as an educated individual and all I know......will climb with you......

Turning my eyes to the lens, I spot a shot where the light of early afternoon backlit the chunder of an oft-used corridor of powder......the powder in this shot was heavenly......Cholla shows the cush.....

...in a rare moment.....the photog gets his backpack and glass snagged.....and gets a pic in.....

......or two...........

The afternoon celebration, steeped in stories of frozen crystal clouds, bails and near-misses is captured in the stoke of brilliantly glistening bottles of microbrew.

The next day dawns with a focus on improvement.....improvement requested........you're lookin good bro....just get that positive pole plant out there to increase your upper body angulation which will result in better control on the steeps........outside of that....your flask of aged Jameson makes me happy.....

On day two....I revisited the shot we were in before....the light angles necessitated it.....and so did the powder...the later being the dominant factor.......

The splash off of the bow of board.... illuminated by a shaft of light from an early winter horizon fascinated me......

......shadow of rider, and brightness of effect became what I sought......I no longer cared for a face shot......

......I wanted illumination of frozen water.....a crystalline expression, frozen in time and space against the body of force....,,,,

......a force which made it all happen.....a force driving forward.......

......a force which can reverse itself.............

At other times....this force drives higher......

High enough to the point they stop shit talkin' because they can't catch their breath.....

......for but a second.......

The vision of what is possible....me encouraging a path forward is defined.......

On the way out....the skiing over.....more beauty and experience is captured.....

One can't drive the expansive void without thinking of nothing for at least a few moments....this is one of those moments......

........and yet, another........

As I think back on this seasonal roadtrip with friends, it is not the times with friends I remember as the marker for the season.  Rather, it is the last turn I took....in hip deep powder.....and the ABSOLUTE absence of thought that occurred when I did so.  My mind at peace, present and focused:  I was living in the moment......I'm glad to have found that in the middle of good friends.  There is nothing like a powder day.....NOTHING.