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Let there be cake

The Girl and I, along with a couple of friends, are skipping town for Kalispell, Montana to attend a the wedding of Patagonia-clad flyfishing extraordinaire Tonda to his over-educated fiance, Dulce. Unfortunately we’re not going to have a ton of time to explore, and wildfires have affected a fair amount of Glacier NP, but we’re goin’ to make the most of it. The following weekend I’ll be loading up the dogs and heading West to Seattle to visit family. At around 5.5-6 hrs each way, neither drive is necessarily heinous…but it’s good to have plans to get out of town and see some friends, family, and new country.

I love weekend road trips. Several hours are spent pre-planning in the form of iPod playlist creation, searching out trails to run/hike, places to stop and take photos, coffee shops, breweries to enjoy a beer at and BBQ joints in which to chow down a messy sandwich after a long day. It’s the little things. And in this crazy world, where people dwell, fight, kill, slander, and generally aggress,  I think it’s important to look for the good in things and also plan good things to look forward to. 

In the meantime, off-season pre-training training is going along just fine. My buddy, who also serves as my legal counsel and pseudo-coach, drew up a weight lifting plan that I’ve interjected into my weekly running & biking duties. Hoping this will provide some good base strength over the winter that will a) help protect against over-use injury and, b) get to that ripped Hugh Jackman bod I’ve been dreaming of for so long. #nohomo #butmaybealittle

The other day I was digging back through some old training/racing spreadsheet files and came across a running log I was keeping back in 2009 before I moved up to Washington.

Nothing special…but my weight (which alone, is not an indicator of health) was right around 180 in the Summer of 2009. Fast forward a couple of years, in 2011 I was up nearly 30 pounds to 208. When I started seeing the trainers here at the University, my starting weight was 224 pounds. We can easily round and just conclude that I was up 50 pounds from my triathlon days in AZ to my sedentary days in Washington. Gross.

And enough of that shit.

Let’s talk tech. Gravel bikes are all the rage right now. So are ‘cross bikes. So are “all road” bikes. There are slight tweaks in geometry to each, but who really gives an F? For the sake of keeping it real (as the kids say) I’ve decided that my grave/cross/all-road rig is going to be built upon my original gangsta MTB hardtail, a 2006 Cannondale F400. Not the top of the line in terms of the groupset but I was wreckless and all of that shit except for maybe the bottom bracket was soon replaced anyhow.

The frame is still sound though the rest of the rig has seen better days. I rode this thing hard all over the great state of Arizona. Too many rides to count, too many crashes to remember, and sadly it hasn’t seen proper singletrack in years. Though the specifics are yet to play out, my plan is to strip it clean and build it back up as a drop bar 1×11 rolling on 650b’s. As of now I’m thinking I’ll probably roll with a rigid fork but if I happen to find the perfect Lefty on eBay…

Well I’ve sufficiently filled up an entire post of random rambling. That’s it for now. Until next time, I leave you with a new training mix:

Fourth of July weekend, a time for friends, beers, bbq, and of course, blowing shit up. A few months ago while killing time at work, I saw that Widespread Panic had a pair of shows scheduled for that weekend in Bend, Oregon. Knowing I’d be able to talk someone into tagging along, I snagged a couple of tickets of booked an Airbnb.

Along with a friend and former co-worker, Keith, we met up with another friend for a night IPA consumption at the Viento Park campground near Hood River. Fully paved and complete with showers, the campground was predictably packed. It’s all good, the purpose of this weekend was simply to get out of town. Note, though, that if you ever plan on staying there don’t plan on getting a restful night of sleep; every 45 minutes or so a train rolls by on tracks no more than a few hundred yards away and the engineer seems to purposefully blast the horn as if to remind sleeping campers of his presence.


Camping, American style.

The next morning we drove a rather sketchy road up into Mt. Hood where we hiked up to get a better look at the receding Eliott Glacier. Pressing on into Bend, hitting several breweries and enjoying a steady diet of tacos, the remainder of the weekend carried out as-planned. The Panic shows were great, the people we met were all awesome, and the most notable IPA of the weekend was from Boneyard Brewing. Happy birthday, America!




Clyde, the resident roommate at our Airbnb.


If I’m ever to start my own business, this would be it.



Basically toe-ing the line.

I think I’m ready?

T-Minus 10 Weeks


This will be like last year but more and better.


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