U H L B L O G G I N G

what do you do?

2012-02-06T18:11:00.000-08:00

What do you do?

People like to ask each other that question. What they usually mean is "what do you do for work?" I think its inevitable, but once the other person answers your question, you start creating your impression of said person. Some people identify with their work more than others but regardless I think its interesting that this has become the single most normalized question we ask someone we've just met.

I've tried substituting the inevitable for other first get to know you types of questions but it never really comes out right. "What do you like to do for fun" (sounds kinda kinky) and "So... what gets you up in the morning?" is sort of depressing for some reason. Anything else I've tried sounds too rehearsed. Or it reminds me of all those icebreakers your high school teachers tried to use on the first day of school. Those are just plain dorky.

So I ask the damn question every single day. I do it, even though it pains me so. People expect it, they answer and we move on (or we don't.)

I think we actually do a lot of impression writing before we even plop the inevitable question on someone. I've realized lately that my gravitation towards people has a lot more to do with the the type of community I'm looking to associate myself with. So if your me, you like to ask the inevitable question to people wearing micropuffs. Yeah, thats right, the jacket.

3 for 3 here with micropuffs

Sounds silly, doesn't it? All kinds of people wear micropuff jackets these days- they are stylish and warm- but for some reason my brain has associated the wearers of these jackets with the community of folks I imagine getting after it in the outdoors (even if they are just sitting in a cafe, legs crossed sipping a latte and eating cake in that moment.) This association has been written deeply into my subconscious and all I've got to say is Congratulations Patagonia! Is there any greater a success than underwriting my subconscious?

I think I've got my new infamous cocktail party question.... "So... what sort of jackets are you into these days?"

I do believe my gravitation runs deeper than the jackets, but it does point out that I like to know people who share the same passions as me. It's admirable when someone is passionate about their work, but this typically it not how we choose to identify ourselves. I'd like to think that its our ski goggle tans, the scars we wear and the funny limp we've been rocking from a weekends worth of play that defines us more than our work.

I'm open to suggestions, so fire off your first liner question in the comments and maybe we can all get somewhere!

An Ode to Hut Life

2012-01-25T21:41:00.000-08:00

Happenstance is cool.

happenstance [ˈhæpənˌstæns} n

: a circumstance especially that is due to chance

:	a chance occurrence

I happened to be searching for the best buttermilk biscuits Summit County has to offer when I crossed paths with an old friend over Christmas vacation. She too was seeking the biscuits (or something of the like) at a local's hideout in Breckenridge when our paths crossed. Our reacquaintance offered me the opportunity to join her and friends on their annual winter backcountry hut trip. I joined this same group of friends on a hut trip 4 years ago as an awkward snowshoer plowing through 3 feet of fresh pow pow with borrowed gear (including my mother's backpack from the 80's she mailed to me a week before the trip) and wide eyes (that was my first trip into the winter backcountry.)

Hut life offers many important lessons and I've been running them all through my head since emerging back into the every day rigamarole.

24 inches of snow in 24 hours!

Many of my friends (myself included) chase simplicity in a time of busy and complex lives. We venture into the woods for relief from many of the modern day impostures. I venture into these wild places to reset my priorities from time to time... as well as just remember what I already know about how to live a meaningful life.

Here is what I've learned from this years trip:

1. Chop wood. We all need to keep a hot fire burning throughout our lives- and not just to keep warm. While living in Margy's Hut, its mostly to keep warm- but back down here in the real world we need to have passion, intention and drive to keep us engaged and inspired.

2. Carry water. While sharing a hut with 15 friends, it's important to take turns fetching snow from outside and melting it into drinkable water. This makes me think about seasonality and where things come from. Water doesn't come from opening the faucet... it comes from the rivers we swim in and the snow we ski on.

Recess. Slaying the 25 degree slopes!

3. Respect Nature. With 24 inches of snow falling in 24 hours everyone's temptations pointed towards making epic turns the next morning, but conditions were not having it. With incredibly high avalanche danger, we were humbled by the forces much larger than us. Sometimes is not about conquering our surroundings but just staring in awe.

4. Love each other. I don't think anybody was bored for a single moment on this trip and thats in the absence of phones, TV and all other forms of modern day entertainment. What we had was each other and all of the incredible creativity (as well as humiliation, farts and bad jokes) that comes about while sharing the chores of cooking meals, tending to the fire and carrying the water.

Our view of the Elk Range from the front porch only revealed itself on the final morning.

Shedding Layers

2012-01-10T18:44:00.000-08:00

I cry a lot. I don't know why and I don't always like it. It is what it is.

When I was in high school I wrote a poem to my boyfriend, explaining that I was like a peach with soft skin, a juicy middle and a hard core. Maybe its just the peach skin rubbing off. Maybe the tears are just layers I'm shedding. They are rolling off my cheeks like rain drops destine for the sea.

A friend recently admitted to writing this quote on all her things the other day:

"Just when the caterpillar thought the world was ending he turned into a butterfly."

Pretty cheesy, but I like it.

Growing pains suck. I hate them right now, but its fine. I authorize them to have their way with me. I give them the right to rip right down to the core and unveil what they will.

Its hard to admit we don't always stay the same. We all grow at different rates and sometimes all I want is to stay on the same page as my friends and cohorts. Its comfortable to be in companionship, but its not always the right fit.

I know you've got no idea what sort of growing pains I'm talking about but you've felt them too. You've had to cross over to your own realm and it wasn't always easy.

Its important to live an examined life and I'm doing my best to live just that. I'm humbled by the grace and gratitude of everyone around me despite the tidal waves that knock me down cryin'. We are all just where we are and thats as beautiful as it can be polarizing.

Friendsgiving: A four sport playground

2011-11-28T16:42:00.001-08:00

I was tending to a strange flair up of back pain from the bathtub last night when I came across this:

Whatever comes, comes from a need, a sore distress, a hurting want... And every need brings in what's needed. Pain bears its cure like a child.

That's from Joy At Sudden Disappointment, the first poem I flipped to in The Essential Rumi.

I'm not sure what my back is trying to tell me after my trip to Grand Junction for a four-sport-Friendsgiving- but I don't think its about my back- or my four favorite sports.

I think its about always getting what we want, even when it seems like we're not. Rumi has a lot to say on this subject and he always makes suffering seem so eloquent.

Suffering can be really rewarding. Any type two or three fun lover knows this. Its easy to understand how physical pain can manifest its way into mountain top summits, epic race finishes or an evolution of human endurance. But what about spiritual or emotional pain? How do we connect those dots to how we arrive where we are?

I'd like to get to know my hurting want, my sore distress, a little better. She's been knocking, making herself known, and I would be lost without her monotone- but what is it she wants?

After one week of skiing, mountain biking, Friendsgiving feasting, and the successful assent of my first desert tower- I'm sitting here at home with a heating pad on my back. I know its not because of all the physical play- its because of an overactive mind. I've been trying too hard to answer all the big questions- and maybe all I really need to do is slow down and be more of a passenger- see what this pain has to bare and hold on for the ride. Ankle bone's connected to the chin bone, right?

Honesty Bread

2011-10-06T07:50:00.000-07:00

What is it to really live an Honest life?

And I'm not talking about how to avoid cheating on your wife, punching babies or stealing from your neighbor... I'm talking about that little scratchy voice we all have inside.

You know which one I mean. It gets really loud when your sitting in a theater watching a ski movie or when you meet someone that has risked everything to live more simply- perhaps out of their van- traveling the land doing Rad Things. We can all hear the voice crystal clear in those moments, but I've been hearing it pop up even more frequently to the point where it is a constant hum. Maybe you hear it too...

See those aspens? I want to eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I know you've got the voice... That stupid little voice that suggests you've got some work to do if you truly want to live honestly. Its up to you how you want to slice your Honesty Bread, but I know my tolerance for living within my means is defined more by the voice than bills, loans, and what I am going to be when I grow up. They are important ingredients that go into the recipe for Honesty Bread- but I won't choose to let them dictate how I slice it, how I enjoy every bite of it.

sometimes you have to give your best work away

2011-09-19T18:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, you have to give your best work away. The great moments our life affords us are in direct proportion to the effort we put into creating them- but I also think these moments are supple, tender and fleeting. The better we understand that they are not to keep, the more competent we will will grow in our next attempt at creating another original work.

A day rafting and mountain biking with my mom.

The farmhouse we used to live in.

Standing on summits.

Lots of painting or drawling I've fallen in love with and then sealed into a letter to another.

The way I feel sitting high in the hills, with alpine lakes and pointy peaks all around me.

The 9 jars of pesto we made to get us through the winter.

All this stuff is gone. We exhausted the moment together and now it is done. Out it goes making room for more.

I am pushing myself hard right now to keep giving it up. To keep letting go of the old stuff I want so bad and to make room for new. Its fall, so we let go. We take our most vivid lessons from the winter and learn to persevere so new beauty shall arrive by spring. It takes constant attention to continue this path, not submitting to complacency even when your life is particularly rich.

Keep making your best work, then give it away so you can make more.

Perfect in your place.

2011-07-17T13:16:00.000-07:00

To be perfect in your place is a something to cherish. Its not always a state of mind we can summon ourselves, but when it happens its worth taking note.

I'll define place as wherever you are at any given time.

I'll define perfect as a state of mind that gives you the sense that you'd rather be in no other moment than the one your in right then.

Eating a salad and listening to Paper Bird, I'm perfect in my place. I grew most of its contents in my garden and the rest were things I gathered at yesterday's Farmer's Market. Just being able to attend a Saturday Market makes me smile since we're usually off on an adventure somewhere. Far off adventures make me perfect a lot of the time. Making arugula pesto, basil pesto and black bean dip in succession makes me perfect. And so does sitting here at the farmhouse eating a beautiful salad.

Its a state of mind we chase more then our goals and dreams, but the ability to detach one from the other is probably going to be a life long journey. I'll surf this high for now, and maybe re-read this post if mindfulness on this topic escapes me. For now, i'll assume that perfect can happen anytime- when your alone or in good company- and is often as likely to occur in the rare wild places as it may in your very own home.

perfect, even though 10 mins later i almost got stuck by lightening

my finest catch of the season

hiking down from ice lakes

afternoon sun on engineer mountain

capturing the clouds in the springtime

2011-05-27T07:47:00.000-07:00

Have you ever tried to capture the clouds?

People like to hold things just as they are. We want to tuck what we cherish safely into our pockets, hold it in our hands or write it on our heart. That is a noble attempt to appreciate the beauty we see, but a fearful rendition of the reality that all things move and grow with the spring wind. I see this movement as an invitation. A right to apply my own interpretation and creativity to a moment, a person or an experience that stands still for no one. This invitation is as wild and forgiving as ones imagination is willing to extend.

taking risks, trading sports, and living your life

2011-05-05T12:04:00.000-07:00

I was grabbing coffee at the Bellvue Bean this morning and started telling the owner about my four day weekend adventure- one abundant enough to include both skis and bikes, spring snow and desert love. I also mentioned I was leaving again tomorrow for more of the same. At about this point I realized it was 11 o'clock on a Thursday, I just got done mountain biking, and still have not clocked into work yet. This Thursday was dedicated to working... Damn it! I was starting to feel guilty. I drank my espresso, told him I had better get off to work and stood there for a second. After a long pause, he said:

"Your living your life."

Damn Straight.

I most likely will always opt for the work less, play more equation whenever its available to me, but I would just like to make sure the play side of the equation never becomes dull, unchallenged or complacent.

I would like to take risks. I would like to oscillate in and out of my comfort zone- wheather its admits the familiarity of having a bike underneath me or the terror of two long and stange looking planks attached to my feet.

I suppose its a special time of year, and a special kind of place, when we can find ourselves making a 3,000ft assent of a snow covered peak one day and glorious descents down tacky singletrack the next.

This beauty is wild.

Doing things in order

2011-04-23T16:33:00.000-07:00

Step one. Wake up and drive to the closest snowy mountain, hike up it and ski down. Repeat the hiking up and skiing down part 7 times. (another tip: do it with someone you like.)

Step two. Drive home and eat breakfast with a beer. I reccomend 3 poached eggs with potatoes and onions. Pairs nicely with a Dunkelweiss or any other dark beer that rings in at 9% abv.

Step three. Reflect upon the Springtime.

She's so fickle, The Springtime. Offering up her extra hours of sunshine at the price of a wind so sharp it resembles the invisible knife puncturing our lungs and ripping into our legs as we attempt to pedal through her. But that's just it, Springtime teaches us to pedal through the turmoil of our short attention spans, our pain, and our fear for the unknown. We want sun but we get rain. Is it really about the mountain bike trails being too wet to ride or the soil so desperate for moisture it crumbles and burns?

I will attempt to do my best, in the fickle and careless nature of Spring to trust the big picture and know all that occurs has its time and place.

time out

2011-03-27T05:59:00.000-07:00

I have to take a time out today.

I was supposed to go ski some new lines with friends that are much better skiers than me, in a place I've been wanting to go all winter.

Instead, I cut off part of my thumb cooking dinner last night so I'm in time out to let it heal. (Hopefully just enough so I can go mountain biking tomorrow after work:)

These somewhat unknowingly self-prescribed time outs due to injury really get me pontificating on our drive as athletes and people to do things in our own self-righteous order in complete disregard for what nature might have in store for us. These sorts of "accidents" could be put in the exact same category as a major front rolling in just hours before your planned assent of XYZ peak. We get so goal oriented we become blind. Mix in a dose of the "9-5er M-F, weekends are my only time to play and I have to make the most of every second of them," blues and your basically crippled and blind. Its hard to stop, give up your most cherished endeavors and just sit around to let an injury or storm pass you by.

As much as I would rather be out skiing than sitting in my house blogging right now, I suppose I should relish the opportunity to rest, revive my spirits for the next adventure and get centered... balanced out... catch up on news and the stack of magazines sitting on the coffee table I never have time to read.

But that can be harder than you might think. What does it mean when its harder for someone to sit around the house than do something that really pushes their physical + spiritual limits?

Maybe there is a medical condition me and a lot of my friends have that we just don't know the name of. Or maybe I just have a big cut on my thumb and all my friends are having more fun than me today.

Either way, I suppose I can use this as an opportunity. I can consider being more conscientious about everything I do, more calculated, and take my time (especially when handling sharp objects.) I appreciate the tiny reminders that pop up (in seemingly the worst time) to provide us indicators of what we really might need to focus on in a bigger picture sort of way. Lots of great pontificating I suppose... but I still wish I was skiing right now!

View from the yurt

2011-03-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

It does not matter if you are bivouacking beside a granite cliff or eating five pounds of bacon in a yurt. Its impossible not to notice that feeling you get inside of you. The one that tugs at your heart and suggests there is a secret wisdom greater than all the things we find ourselves obsessing over in our daily routine. Its when our yearning for less trumps our yearning for more.

I know you've caught yourself basking in this peacefulness, which can be resurrected the moment you hear the crackling of a fire or even the unmistakable sound your tent or sleeping bag zipper makes. Its a language that resonates well with me, and I've felt it over and over again in the backcountry.

I asked Andrew how he slept the second morning we woke up in the yurt.

"Like a rock. I always sleep better in a sleeping bag than I do in a bed."

Its not worth arguing. There is nothing better than living in the woods, even if its just for a couple nights at a time.

Oh to take a 360 degree look at the landscape from your doorstep, scope out a sweet piece of terrain on the horizon, and find your way there one step at a time. This is worthy and just. For me this is the steady state of being, homeostasis.

At the false summit, 45 minuets or so above tree line, coaxing a few more freckles out of my sun crusted face.

A few old friends along for the ride, Fat Tire, Ranger, and big brother Bullet Bourbon.

Trail amigos carrying string instruments... trying to keep up with their friend Wayne, 60 years young and skiing with his very own bottle of O2. Wayne turned out to be quite a crazy old man, but his effort was nothing less than a great reminder that the journey is long and the life worth living happens to occur primarily outside, oxygen bottle and all.

trees have mustaches too

2011-03-11T15:51:00.001-08:00

I was listening to a recent edition of the dirtbag diaries last week. The story was about this crusty old mountain guide slash spiritual guru who didn't give two shits about what grade his students could climb. Instead he cared to point them towards something you couldn't measure- the wilderness within. The place we could spend most our lives traveling through- lost most of the time- but fascinated indeed by how far we may have to come in truly understanding ourselves.

Its easy to get comfortable, to live on the surface and avoid getting into uncharted territory.

But there is no map to life (or I just have not found it yet.) Every day is full of unexpected things. Some days it smacks us in the face and demands we cope, other days the unexpected is as subtle as our appetite for delight is strong.

Pay close attention, and you too might start to see such wonders, like trees and men with mustaches.

who's is better?

and trees (and men) with hearts.

and that any monday-friday segment that includes several trail runs, a long bike ride, and a ski tour... is a great week.

Brewing with Beets

2011-02-26T16:02:00.000-08:00

Back in the fall I got the rare opportunity to create my very own New Belgium beer.

We have a super-taster contest of sorts a couple times a year and the person with the best luck and savvy on the day gets to go big... they get to create

their very own dream beer, a beer with no limits, and a beer that shows up strong most likely never to come back.

Beauty beholds the treasure of fleeting moments. After months in waiting, I reveal to you Sarah's Beet Red. Get a wiff of her before she's gone!

I have been enjoying the glorious frills of her fuchsia foam and earthy flavor almost daily since she came to see the world a la keg. Before she's gone I wanted to reflect on the brewing process a tad.

First of all I think its ironic I got a job at a brewery fresh out of my professional cycling career. You could say I was a long shot for getting hired considering I barely even drank beer, let alone knew anything about it... But here is the thing about beer- it is one of the most ancient and beautiful crafts out there- and it's all about passion. This liquid nectar has forever strived to tell the tales of people and their places. So I got to tell mine, a la beets, two short years into my new relationship with beer.

My job at New Belgium affords me a desk and a computer. I basically tell stories for a living, vivid and enchanting true stories about our company. All of this is nice but I don't get to get my hands dirty making something every day... and thats what we do, we make something. When we wrote the recipe for Sarah's Beet Red, I didn't think too much about the 95 gallons of organic beet juice we would be adding at the end of the boil. It turns out beet juice is too thick to pump into the kettle (it actually fried our pump in the first 3 minuets) so by the time I was transferring it one 5 gallon bucket at a time, I started to realize that 95 gallons of beet juice is something special. And messy. And good for getting your hands dirty.

I didn't brew a beer with beets just to get my hands dirty though. I wanted to make this one-time-go brew something to get people talking, even if it meant that they were talking about how strange it is. This beer is all about love, and what better to tell the tale than the vibrant hue of red beets? I have learned, and I am sure you have to, that love isn't always what you think its going to be. Love actually is probably one of the most unexpected flavors we have ever fancied in our lives, and so this is a beer to live up to that. Spiced with licorice, fennel and rosemary she is a savory and seductive nymph silvering down your hatch at a clean 7.9% avb. So if there is anything to take away from this, I have found that life is always worth of taking risks, like brewing with beets, as long as its in the name of the most passionate forces that drive our lives forward, always pushing the limits.

Getting High

2011-02-12T13:01:00.000-08:00

Today, I had my first Runner's High. It was probably only for five minuets, on a downhill and with a tailwind, but it made me say "fuck yeah" a whole lot! Mix 8 miles of trail with a light dusting of snow and invite epinephrine, serotonin and dopamine! Its a party!

I've certainly had that quintessential sports-induced adrenaline release in the past, but never from running. This girl don't got no thighs for such a thing as that...

For most of my life, 50 degree Saturdays in February were reserved for one thing only- long bike rides that felt like you were getting away with something. Its like living in a wintery climate that just threw you a bone- so you get the hell out there and ride as long and as far as you can. No matter how windy it is.

I am happy to report extreme wind is not nearly as much of a soul crusher while trail running as it is while road cycling. Its almost enchanting.

I was so excited about my runners high I just wanted to keep going even though I was back at the trailhead. I hit the road and started running home down the canyon. I was so high I was passing cars (parked ones) and looking down at my thighs and asking them if they were going to start getting smaller (and if they ever wanted to ride a bike again.) Natural highs, they make you do strange stuff and come to completely irrational conclusions. I guess some of that is okay.

Coming down off of it now. Making Gumbo and getting ready to go skiing tomorrow- my other new activity. Bike love, don't you worry, in time we will meet again.

The story is always still being written...

2011-01-31T07:00:00.000-08:00

A close friend of mine told me once, not too long ago, to remember that the story is ALWAYS still being written. You don't know the end. You can't. No matter how strong your intuition, your hunch, your pain or your ecstasy. Perfectly vague and somewhat unhelpful advice in the height of challenge, but incredibly true.

Change is the only constant!

I want to celebrate my flaws with you reader. I want you to know how good it feels to be human. Its a messy existence swimming in our own sea of desire, often time moving closer- then farther- and again closer to that which we fancy.

Observation... a great position to assume when life smacks you in the face with a coconut cream pie. Seems like we are never expecting that to happen, as if we are immune to such a spectacle. How hilarious! A yoga teacher once mentioned we could confront our anxious and judgmental logic brains with one thought: "Isn't that interesting." For example- Isn't that interesting that I have coconut cream pie all over my face. I can't breathe but it does sort of taste good. A much more grounded and observational perspective then something like this- Where the hell did that come from?? I can't believe life would do that to me... I don't even like coconut!

Anyway, all this stuff is out there in the hills just waiting for you to dig in. I like to associate mostly with folks who understand this, and who use those incredible natural landscapes to discover a thing or two about themselves. For me, they make up my most important home, the one most accepting of my flaws and most willing to seduce me to succumb to them by giving me no other choice.

learning new stuff is good for you...

2011-01-22T08:14:00.000-08:00

"Free the heel, Free the mind," right?

I know you have heard it before, but its so true.

I am learning to ski downhill for the first time in my life, and I decided Telemarking is the way to go. I would like to admit a few things, in no particular order, about this obstacle I've been avoiding for a long time.

Avoiding this 'obstacle' has only been a method of delaying unlimited bundles of fun.
Being a mono-sport athlete for the majority of your life has its plusses and its minuses. Translation: you become really good and really confident in one thing, while all along narrowing the playing field to the idea that this confidence can be applied to the ability to do anything else.
You can do anything, but part of the equation is time and patience. And falling.
Falling is only as painful as the skis become tangled and twisted, thus propelling your body into weird angles at strong forces
Emotions you never knew you had can rear their ugly heads on the the side of slopes that to some, seem to be made for grandmas.
These emotions make you forget anything you've ever done athletically. In their place comes the confusing notion that maybe you've been a pathetic, fearful couch potato your whole life. :)
Watching ski movies on you tube make you feel better about the process.
Living in the mountains > not living in the mountains
This is the first new sport I'm sinking my teeth into (slowly, mind you) with the same guttural instinct of desire I had when I was 14, swimming laps in a pool all winter so I could get better at bike racing. I want this.
Once again, sport is reminding me that its lessons are the same god damn ones life has to offer up, but they are just coming in an exciting sweaty package with great views.

Ask and you shall receive

2011-01-02T15:40:00.000-08:00

Its true. Ask and you shall receive is a real thing. It is showing up all over my life and the life of those around me.

Sometimes it takes the least amount of effort to see this concept come to fruition... but that is the beauty in it all. If we show up fully available for the tides to take us as they will, we become shaped by the forces of nature as it manifest in our life.

Even when those good things seem to take a toll, they take only the most important toll in this big interconnected web we weave.

A friend of mine told me that its only the souls that love us the most that are willing to hurt us the most... its sort of an investment they are willing to make for the bigger picture, the one we rarely have access to understanding while trapped in this physical body. To build upon that concept, I was reading The Essential Rumi in the bathtub on Christmas eve and he suggests that we must trust our closest friends enough to give them permission to kill us if they see necessary. That seems to contradict any sort of logical thinking, but I get the point in a metaphorical way.

How willing are you to trust the process?

With these ideas in mind, I write my manifesto for 2011:

May we rise up and be our best, most joyful selves. May we be only where we are and so we start there.

Beda, Christmas day

May we notice the beauty right before us, and let it inform the perspective we carry into each day.

double rainbow in our yard, Winter Solstice

May we celebrate the uncanny and pay thanks so the luxury of a new beginning. May we see each day as an opportunity to begin a new, carrying the nourishment of everything that came before...

New Year's Day Breakfast with Andrew

hugs!

2010-12-22T14:48:00.000-08:00

source

2010-12-15T15:10:00.000-08:00

Here is a thought...

all behavior is motivated by love or a need for love

I like considering this, while also tapping into the many important sources that feed me. Things like mountains, strange desert rocks, home, vast landscapes, yoga.

source, defined:

1. the point at which something springs into being

2. the point of origin, such as a spring, of a river or stream

3. one that causes, creates, or initiates; a maker.

I've started playing with my paints, pastels, and pencils again. Its fun to watch the evolution of color. First few pieces were in blacks and blues... focus was on lines, shapes. Now, color blasts, blurring of the lines, no need for shape.

I like it.

No Matter What

2010-12-06T17:00:00.000-08:00

Do we make things more difficult than necessary sometimes? Maybe its as simple as pouring some Fat Tire, slicing some cheddar and sitting down to take a few deep breaths. I'm going to try it.

Mmmmmmmmm.... Pretty delicious.

I remember a time a few years ago when I was feeling particularly devastated, I kept telling myself this one, silly and simple thing: there will always be peach milkshakes to be enjoyed in the afternoon sun. That was it. It got me through. The simple fact that nothing in life could take peach milkshakes away from me. Not even winter, because I live in Colorado where the big bright sun can warm any brisk afternoon.

Sometimes it helps to hold onto something so simple. Something comparatively that has nothing to do with, and holds no weight in comparison to, whatever it is your dealing with in life. Its good for me, at least. I tend to get caught up in my overly philosophical big picture thinking. It can be my greatest enemy. The Whys of the world. There is a quote "any man with a why to live has a how to live." Something like that. Have you ever wished those quotes you love also come with instruction manuals?

I guess, no matter what, there will always be Cheddar and Fat Tire... and blogging.

apple butter!

2010-09-27T08:38:00.001-07:00

gather the apples

together we peel layers away

fall is here now

the harvest, collected locally by bike trailer and backpack

it all starts with a peeling party

cast iron love

grinding the spices- cinnamon, clove, and our secret weapon: cardamon

we played with multiple methods, and came out with 4 different batches. Peels n' all required a sieve to separate the peels from the guts... or in our case, a vegetable steamer.

alex likes it to be sterile.

friends friends, we split the bounty:

13 jars of eager beaver

6 jars of peels 'n all

9 jars of jungle butter

3 jars of hot mama... for Andrew only

Cargo Bikes + Bike Culture

2010-09-24T07:46:00.000-07:00

Watching this video resinates with me tremendously. It makes sense. It seems second nature to think that this is how urban living is accomplished. It seems so obvious to me... which leads to tremendous disappointment and fear that we are so far from a culture like this that we may never get there.

A few simple take-aways from watching this video- the people featured in the video are happy, they exude a sense of "I can do anything with my cargo bike" and of course, are quirky Europeans that are fun to laugh at.

Where does it begin... in the hearts and minds of the citizens of a place, or in the hearts and minds of the developers and those responsible for the infrastructure that supports such a thing?

bike love: evolution

2010-09-05T19:45:00.000-07:00

I can't imagine a more graceful transition of bike love than when it moves seemlessly from a 6 day ultra endurance mountain bike race to a costumed bicycle parade called Tour De FAt. All the $$ raised by the freak show of gushing bike love benefits our local bicycle advocacy groups and trail builders. The creative expression runs with reckless abandon all weekend, with pockets of magic everywhere you look.

To start it off right, I invited all my friends to join in our own mini-theme: a vegetable garden. I made my costume out of cabbage leaves, late friday night.

Then I made breakfast for my fellow vegetable companions:

and then we took off for the parade and the free music

With Breck Epic and TdF behind me now, I am looking towards the Fall with willing reluctance to give up the burning desires of summer and submit to a changing of seasons. Andrew has been trying to convince me to do some trail running and the only thing that inspires me about this is the prospect of keeping up with him on some cool new fastpacking adventures. I used up just about every drop of vacation time already this year so fastpacking is a promising option for weekend warrior type activities limited to less daylight and more regular 9-5er-type responsibilities back at the workplace.

Yoga and rock climbing are also high on the list for fall. Sunday we got up to the Monestary for a beautiful beginning in that arena.

big dreams for the bike industry

2010-09-01T21:09:00.000-07:00

I like meeting nice people. Good ideas come from folks that make you smile. Sometimes good ideas come from folks who may even make you a signs that makes you smile. Check out these guys: http://yourorganicmechanic.com/

I met Tim (one of the Organic Mechanics) at The Breck Epic last week. We were bound to meet mostly just because I'm mechanically deficient and I've gotten really good at befriending any available help in this department. Typically this works out well and Tim was no exception.

We got to talking about the bike industry, space cowgirls, and a crusade I backed down from three years ago after a disappointing trip to Interbike. I went to Vegas seeking out work within the industry that brings union to all the powers of the bicycle- an answer to the transportation crisis, simplicity in an overcomplicated world, community, and a little bit of speed + fame. It turns out that most folks have the equation wrong. Its low on sustainability and advocacy, high on speed, fame, and strapping your bike on the top of your car (or inside a jet) to go ride somewhere else.

How about out the back door?

I'm lucky. I leave my porch on one of the various commuter bikes that live in my garage, travel along a beautiful bike path that hugs a scenic river for 5 miles and arrive a workplace where many of my co-horts also choose this mode of transport. We have a bigger bike parking problem then a car parking problem actually. But I also looked to create a lifestyle like this and just happened to find it by getting a job in the beer industry instead of the bike industry.... maybe they overlap a little bit, not sure.

Sheila Moon is a friend of mine who is doing something cool. She started a cycling clothing company in the Bay Area because she couldn't find bike clothes she looked good in or that fit well. She decided to do something about it and now we all have a more locally made, artful choice when it comes to ordering the next batch of team jerseys or spandex costumes for bike riding. check her out here. Sheila was so kind and sent me some of here jerseys to play around with while I experiment with bike racing and projects related to this line of thinking via my new mechanism: Team Space Cowgirls.

Who the hell are we anyway? I'm not sure yet. Well, besides Sarah, JJ, and Eszter.

But with the collaboration of folks like The Organic Mechanic, New Belgium, Walt and Sheila (or anyone in the bike industry making things carefully, one by one, with their hands) I think we can get somewhere, promoting something... profound, connected, and all encompassing of bike love in its endless forms.

Breck Epic Stage 6. Gold Dust.

2010-08-27T14:55:00.000-07:00

Sitting at Amazing Grace Cafe in Breckenridge Colorado, a few beers in and more tired then I've been all week.  This is bliss.  Home made muffins + cookies at a local haven and the joy of knowing I got this thing done!   

I wonder if I feel more tired now then I have all week because I know I'm done and I can afford to be tired, or if it all truly did catch up to me today.  Even though the Gold Dust stage was announced as considerably easier than the rest of the stages, it started with a bang.  My eyes were stuck on Jill, who has been creeping closer to my hold down on 4th overall every day.  She was not messing around.  Off the start line like a rocket, that girl kicked ass up hill and left me to my own devices.  I was feeling the burn as we traversed beautiful singletrack high above Breckenridge.  Killer views and all, I was reminded that we were still knee deep in competition and this thing wasn't going to be over til it was over. 

Jill's yellow Ibex jersey crept in and out of my visible horizon for 32 miles.  By the final slice of singletrack I had completely abandoned my relatively conservative agenda that kept me upright all week and went head over tea kettle about 2 miles from the finish. Pick myself up and rally home as quickly as possible was all I could do.  It ended up being enough to maintain my 4th place overall in the women's solo open division.

I am surprised with how well I performed, considering my relatively lackadaisical approach to training for this thing.  I enjoyed watching my formula play out: no numbers, no worries... ride when you can for as long as you can and as hard as you can.  Thats it.  Beyond that, I had other areas to attend to this summer - things like getting a good costume together for bike prom, working at a local organic farm, making sure there were enough sparkles on my bike, designing custom jerseys and rubbing my boyfriends feet at night.  The     true competitor inside of me is satisfied and fulfilled with this physical result... on top of that, the more spiritually wondering side of my personality is mystified with the journey this provided.  More incredible then the moments of solitude in the Colorado backcountry and pushing my own personal limits was the warmth of the mountain bike community I got to bask in all week.  Living in tent city at race central for 6 days was a mini-lifetime it seems.  It will be sad to leave the simple life I shared with a few new friends in the gravel parking lot of the ice rink.   To endure such epic feats amongst the company of others, with unique tales and talents of their own to chase down blends super well together.  

Stage 5, 32 miles over wheeler pass at 12,500ft

2010-08-26T15:34:00.001-07:00

Today was big, really big.  Wheeler pass tops out at 12,500ft and we reached that altitude within 10 or so miles from the gun going off.  Ex-sprinters love shit like this...

The final 2 miles to the first summit are spent alongside your bike hiking most the way, then you crest and traverse high alpine singletrack for a little over a mile to reach a second hike-a-bike summit.  The beautiful, vast landscape seeps into your psyche forever from a perch like this.  It makes it all okay that your brain stopped working properly about a 1,000 feet below.

I felt like todays stage, even though it was shorter in distance, required a tremendous amount of mental concentration.  The high alpine traverse was tricky- full of rocks and ruts and very little flowing mindless stuff- and the final 10 miles on the peaks trail was relentless with rocks and roots.  Maybe I'm getting soft 5 days into this thing, but I had to really tap into more mental reserves than physical today.  I actually am feeling physically stronger every day- which makes no sense whatsoever.  

I had a sweet sprint finish with Katie from Giro.  The girl was chasing me down like a tiger for the final 10 miles, sometimes biting at my ankles, other times lurking a few feet back in the trees.  She kept me on my game down to the wire and we screamed into the downhill finish less than a wheel length apart!  How did she know I was dying to flex my fast twitch, just once, in this 240 mile marathon?  

I should start tomorrow with a 10ish minuet lead over 5th place in the overall women's solo open.

Before this thing is all done, I want to quickly thank a few folks:  

Walt, thanks for designing me the most beautiful piece of art for such a stunt as this.  A custom steal hardtail is all you ever need.

New Belgium, my glorious employer.  Your the best title sponsor I could ever ask for!  Not only did you give me 6 days off work to do this, but you helped me land so level headed post-bike racing addition 2.5 years ago. Don't worry, I'm not going to quit so I can go back to the crazy bohemian life of a bike racer.  I really like doing what we do together... you know, make good beer, do our part to be kind to mother earth and our community, and promoting the pursuit of peoples passions. Oh, and encourage each other to be silly.  I've been spreading the NBB liquid love as best I can all week.  

My bike riding hommies.  Eszter, Chris, JJ, Dave, Stephen, Andrew and my Mom...  Thanks for encouraging me to do this silly thing and not pre-riding too many of the course with me, in the event that if I saw all that was to come you probably knew I wouldn't want to do it anymore.    

Oh, and of course, Mike our promoter.  He let 4 of us kids in for free in exchange for these bloggy blog posts.  If I wasn't stealing wi-fi and drinking thai ice teas in the afternoons to blog, I doubt I'd leave Breckenridge with as fully loaded of an experience.

Breck Epic, Stage 4 report

2010-08-25T15:59:00.000-07:00

Breck Epic, Stage four.  42 miles, 6,500 or 7,500ft of climbing (its all becoming a blur)

Okay guys. Time to come clean with all of you about a few things: The Breck Epic is only my third mountain bike race. So, after completing the 4th stage today, I have tripled the number of times I've raced a mountain bike. Kinda cool. But, I won't lie to you... I've have plenty of experience with the whole two-wheeled eye of the tiger bike racing thing. It was just on skinny tired bicycles. Once, about 10 years ago, I even won me some rainbows in the jr. worlds for match sprinting. That was cool too. This Breck Epic thing seemed like a great way to dust off the cobwebs from a 3 year hiatus from any sort of racing at all.

What really stood out to me today is that the competitor inside of you never dies.  I did come to the Breck Epic with my own personal agenda (you know, the whole "make bike love" thing) but I didn't really know which way my competitive spirits would take me.  Would it be a dull distant calling or a fierce vengeful whip, screaming at me for not training enough.  It turns out the voice is still pretty loud, clamoring around in my head.  I wasn't okay with my performance yesterday, 3rd mountain bike race ever or not.  It was time to make a comeback and assert myself.  So today, I dug in deep.  I oozed the love of competition.  I decided at the start that nothing today's course threw at me could phase me.  I was so personally offended by every inch of elevation gain yesterday it made me so angry and disconnected to the task at hand: get to the finish as fast as possible.  I rode strong, and hard.  I got to each aid station so invigorated by my renewed spirits I announced to everyone there "I feel STRONG today!!"  Somehow, that reinforced the positive attitude and helped me ride into a 5th place finish.  Right back to where I want to be.  

The promotor called this stage a "queen" stage and suggested it reminded him of a rabid dog that just kept coming at you.  It was hard, no doubt, but it was also my favorite course thus far.  With long, low gradient sections to power along I actually felt fast for once... Views were killer and the tree canopied singletrack sections were yeehaw worthy.  

I have been meaning to spend a little blog-time to painting a picture of our sweet accommodations at race central, so here is a brief photo essay for you:

tent city, where about 20 of us brave kids are living it up all week.  

race central, adjacent to tent city, where meetings and meals are held daily.

Tim and Todd, the organic mechanics making bike love to my Waltworks and refueling with finest New Belgium Brews.

The view from tent city this morning: a moonset.  

Breck Epic, Stage three. 44 miles, 9,800ft of climbing.

2010-08-24T19:22:00.000-07:00

Lets start at the end and work backwards.

The night before todays stage we all got a map of the course and a brief description of the stage.  It said that after we cross the continental divide for the second time in the race, we would make our way down a rocky-gnar descent on the Colorado Trail that would bring us to the base of yet another climb, American Gulch.  It was said that American Gulch would crush our souls, just in case the double wammy, above tree line climbs over French and Georgia pass didnt.

So when I got to this soul crushing aspect of the course I decided to play a little mental tick on myself.  Because I was demoralized at this point already, completely spent and angry at the idea of yet another hill in this completely grueling stage It seemed like a good idea to convince myself of the following; pretend you just drove up here for a few days of exploring the forest.  Someone you trust told you American Gulch is a great road to explore.  There are great views at the top and it will be a nice short ride.    Yeah that sort of worked for like 10 minuets.  I got to the wall-like steep sections that went on for miles of this road and decided that if my idealized scenario of a fun afternoon ride in the forest were true, I sure the hell would not have continued to go up this god damn road.  Where are the mushrooms and wildflowers today?!!!

I did of course, make it.  Even after consider the deep questions of why am I here? and what is the meaning of life? and what is the benefit of feeling my soul get crushed? in the final 10 miles, I decided it was all well worth it.  It made me angry to consider after all the evil curveballs this course threw out at us, I was willing to admit I liked it.  I did.  I climbed well up into the belly of a rain cloud at 12,000 feet, rode over the other side without being able to feel my hands and then repeated it...  All while watching 4th place, 5th place, 6th place, and 7th place pass me by like I was standing still.  I ate 6 oreos, 4 fig newtons, 27 ruffle chips, 3 bananas and two bottles of chocolate recovery drink at the finish, took a shower, and reminded myself: this is why Im here.  To do epic shit, to  make bike love, and to figure out the benefit of feeling your soul get crushed.   

Somehow, I am still holding onto 5th place overall after three days.  Three more to go

Breck Epic, Stage two. 42 miles, 7,800ft of climbing.

2010-08-24T09:19:00.001-07:00

Today, three things stood out: more wild mushrooms, dead trees that looked like bears and that mountain bikers dream state of flow, which came in abundance today.

If I had to re-name the stage, I’d call it “the gift.” I say this because even though we managed to squeeze 7,800ft of climbing in, the pay back was seriously outrageous; the good kind of outrageous. I’ve ridden parts of the Colorado Trail before, but today’s sections were glorious at race pace. Imagine gliding through a canopied forest on a magic carpet of pine needles and tacky dirt.

The skies were ominous at the start. You can’t argue with the weather in the Colorado mountains; You take what you get and you don’t ask questions. The storms can roll in as quickly as they can roll out, but you don’t always get that lucky. Today, we got lucky. Just about 5 minuets after everyone put on their rain jackets in anticipation for a wet ride, we could see beautiful blue sky behind the storm clouds. Lucky.

I started off at a more relaxed pace then yesterday and continued to feel strong into the first climb. I committed myself to riding everything I could today instead of getting off in frustration and hike-a-biking, even if everyone else around me was. This is why I’m here, I kept saying to myself, to get to know that oh-so-uncomfortable feeling even more intimately. It pays off in big grins the more times you go there, but not necessarily in the exact same moment…

After climbing up, over, and down the other side of Westridge on the Colorado trail, I found myself in a beautiful meadow where fellow Breck Epic race blogger Thom Parsons was dealing with a flat tire. Later he caught up to me and explained that it was his THIRD flat. Very unlucky. It gave me more gratitude for the good fortune I’m enjoying thus far and hope to continue to surf throughout the race. This is the unexplainable, sometimes magical, sometimes completely downright annoying part of the sport that I love. Sometimes all the stars align, sometimes they don’t.

Wild mushrooms, wildflowers and dead trees that looked like bears made great company today while riding alone for most of the race. I enjoyed the solitude and the mystical surroundings. By the time the mushrooms started turning purple, red with white stripes, and bright orange I though, just for a moment, that I had been eating them again. But, before I could get lost in another bit of hallucinating on the side of the trail, I realized that Mirelle Montiminy and Jill Damman were breathing down my neck. I was no longer alone. These girls caught up to me and I didn’t like it. So I found some extra gears and powered away with the slight enough gap to keep them out of sight for the final 15 miles of the race. With a minuet to spare, I slid into the finish for 4^th place, moving me to 4^th overall in GC due to a few of the other top gals dropping out of the race. Lucky, I guess.

Breck Epic, Stage One. 42 miles, 6,100ft of climbing.

2010-08-24T09:14:00.000-07:00

Make Bike Love. That's my campaign. Check out my jersey. I made it on my sewing machine.

"Is this what you call making bike love?" a fellow competitor yelled at me in a hot mess while we scrambled together up a climb called little french. I later re-named that climb big motherfucking french monsieur.

The big motherfucking french monsieur was a ways into the race, and honestly I didn't remember it to be as challenging when I encountered it the first time about a month ago at the Breck 68. That's okay though. We are only one day into this thing and there is no point in getting too caught up in memories aligning with reality.

The race started with a fury. It faintly reminded me to the start of a criterium except we are headed straight uphill on a road for multiple miles and we were on mountain bikes. By the time we hit the dirt, I think I completely forgot everything I knew about off-road cycling. Sketchy! Luckily, the skills returned and I got some legs under me. Good thing. The first half of this stage was much harder than the second (and thats even including the big motherfucking french monsieur in the second half).

By the time I got to the first aid station I had a legitimate argument with the innocent volunteer trying to hand me my aid station bag. Apparently I was convinced the bag was green even though the orange one he was handing me clearly had my number on it. I saw lots of wild mushrooms growing out there on the trail, but I don't remember eating any. True fact: pushing your limits and creating a hypoxic physical state leads to mental failure and hallucinations in a similar way as mushrooms. Well, not too similar, but kinda similar.

Between Aid Station #2 and #3 I was feeling kind of slow. I was trying to figure out if my pace was more reminiscent to a snail, a slug.... or more optimistically, the tortoise that beats the hare. This race is 6 days long and all, so I figured being somewhat conservative could play out well in the long run. But then the hypoxic state (or the mushrooms) had me so focused on figuring out whether a snail or a slug would move more slowly. Apparently I could not come to any consensus so I decided I was the tortoise.

With about 10 miles to go in the race I got a great pick me up. Right next to the trail was a tiny groove of wild california poppies, bright orange in color. It re-focused me on the mission: make bike love. Bike love is complex, just like any good relationship. There are moments of obvious passion: like the final descent down moonstone trail (think middle-of-the-night sex.) Bike love can be scary- like the rest of the descents in today's stage: rocky gnar-diddly rutted out double track. It certainly takes work- um, 6,100 feet of climbing above 9,500 feet elevation. But most present for me this week is that bike love evolves. From racer to rider; from road to mountain; from sprint to endurance class... we find our pathways via bike, each with deep pockets of salt, sweat, love, and lust.

I came out 6th in the solo Women's open class. I'll take it. Tomorrow: 7300 feet of climbing in 41 miles. ouch!

Breck Epic Race Updates

2010-08-23T15:44:00.000-07:00

Hola Amigos!

Currently I am poaching internet at a hotel lobby. I guess being a dedicated race-blogger after each stage requires taking some risks (like stealing internet) especially when your camping in a field.

You can find my race reports from every stage here:

www.singletrack.com

.... but I don't see anything up yet. I guess just keep looking (maybe they are slow to get it up from yesterday).

its going great!! sitting in 5th or 6th place and loving the hurt!

bike love

2010-08-16T06:28:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend preparing for the great adventure of my summer: The Breck Epic.

I got a little freaked out last week, thinking that the race was a week away and I had not done adequate preparation. I should have ridden more! I should have taken the preparation more seriously! What was I thinking?! This is not just some stroll in the woods!!! Its 6 days of relentless crossings of mountain passes by bicycle, filled with unforeseen challenges, human psychological prowess and great feats of endurance!!

But then I took a few breaths and realized something:

This is all about bike love. For more on my thoughts about bike love, see bagfag's in depth article on the topic here.

This is all about being in the wilderness, with my bicycle, because I want to. Its about pushing my limits and discovering untold truths regular day to day activity can not show me. Its about doing something I have not done before and loving my bike in a way that I never have before. Yes! Of course! I saw this sign on a long ride this weekend and it pretty much summed up the whole thing: Boogie Woogie Way. I'm going there.

So after I got my heart and mind back in the right place, I could focus in on the final pieces of preparation necessary to pull it all off: putting the final touches on my space cowgirls uniform, creating uber-natural energy elixirs, enjoying a few cold ones and exploring some new territory by bike with my sweetheart. (Well, both my sweethearts: Andrew + my Waltworks)

So after such a revitalizing weekend, I feel like I have all my ducks in a row. I'm ready.

I know these are now ducks, but hey, Cows in a row still gets the point across.

Sometimes you can cross the river...

2010-08-11T18:29:00.000-07:00

Some beauty is obvious. IT STANDS OUT. You are compelled to stop and capture it however you can. Like a drug, this vivid reality causes intoxication. The good kind. The kind we all need more of. The more we experience, the more hungry we find ourselves; the less satiated we become in the company of more regular environments. This is okay, its good, but not an easy condition to maintain.

Other beauty is less obvious. Its fleeting, seasonal, and finicky like my garden. It comes and goes with our expectations. We know spring flowers do not last into deep summer, yet we still love them for the time they are around. Butter lettuce latter to be devoured by the rabbit, is no less delightful as the centerpiece to our summer salad. Even though we are aware of these great fleeting, impermanent principles, we find ourselves unprepared for the losses in life- be it a dear friend or your favorite season. We want to hold on.

Maybe we need to let go. Learn from the times when we are not surrounded in obvious or fleeting beauty. Recognize the stillness. Know empty so that we can then become full. How are we ever to know what to wish for if we have not suffered in the cold and the wind, alone. Its easy to forget what surrounds us. All the mystery in the world keep us pacing in the daylight, looking for more food to sustain our curious appetites. We must remember that that bewildered place is okay.

Sometimes you can cross the river. Other times you have to stand by the side for a while. Upon rare occasion, you have the opportunity to wade upstream until you find what your looking for.

space cowgirls are real

2010-07-21T18:15:00.000-07:00

We exist. Team space cowgirls. Check out our race apparel. Don't we look fast?

We are.

Eszter and I went to Breckenridge to compete in the Breck 100 and the Breck 68. We passed lots of dudes out there on the trails, looking like tablecloths, announcing our empowerment with home made flair. I got the jerseys from the wondrous Sheila Moon, a friend who started sewing fashionable women's cycling apparel out of her house in San Fran a while back and now runs a tremendously well established business. She was kind enough to send us spacecowgirls a package of pretty flashy jerseys to sport. A magic marker seemed to be a suitable mechanism for pimping my sponsors- so I stitched in a big blue patch on the back that read: POWERED BY YOGA, BEER, AND THE BEAUTYWILD. That about covers it. Those are the main title sponsors this year. I'll try to get some real estate lined up between flower pedals for a few of our supporting sponsors. Oh, there is also Walt. He's the maker of our beautiful bikes. We heart him. It was fun to feel so fast.

Eszter and I both got second place overall in our races. She did the real deal and raced the 100 miler, while I did the little sister version, a 68 mile course. I consider this my first real go at racing since my 2007 departure from pinning the number on. I must say, the race was a blast. I kept saying "this is awesome" while I was out there, railing downhill loving the looks of my legs crusted in mountain dust. It takes a little longer to go 68 miles in the high country of Colorado on fat tires - but there is a renewed joy to not having cars following you with an instantaneous supply of water, food, and spare wheels. I created up my own fancy energy drink- a curiously blue-green nectar with coconut water, spirulina, and maple syrup- while finding myself lucky enough to not need much mechanical support the whole race.

Racing finds a place for me again. I'm excited. Especially because they gave me beer at the finish line... thanks Oskar Blue's and Breckenridge Brewery!

Soul Food

2010-07-07T08:30:00.000-07:00

I wanted to write a post about soul food. I've been thinking a lot about it, as its hard not to notice when your getting stuffed to the brim with what I call the good life, that times are grand when your daily diet is packed with the stuff that makes life interesting to you.

That may seem like a simple, easy equation to success, but for some reason its not. We all know it when we are thriving. Its an obvious buzz. Life seems seamless, full of possibility.... we know ourselves better during these high tides and soar on the confidence that it brings.

But access to soul food is somewhat limited. (a.k.a. Monday Morning Reality) I wish the equation was as simple as input more soul food, output more happy and healthy human beings... but just like any diet, the variables are dynamic and variety is an essential ingredient. The main hang up seems to be time. Time to do the things that make us happy and time to do the things that make us responsible people.

I do realize that everyone's soul food looks pretty different, so I will concentrate the rest of this article on what mine looks like and how that relates to the other variables in the equation... (the responsible people part.)

soul food:

riding your bike to swim in a secret lake with amigos, burritos, and beer.

Trails that go from flowers to snow drifts.

Mountain bike rides above treeline.

friends who do love the same things I do..... Ezter and Chris love their mountain bikes so much they decided to incorporate the two together as a part of their wedding in Beautiful Crested Butte.

And of course, what I call witnessing the beautywild.... an often times fleeting moment of awe.

So if we are obviously thriving in these moments, recklessly consuming our soul food, what are we doing the rest of the time? Who are we when we are stressed out, upset and deprived of soul food? Is that ReAliTy... or is that just the balance that is life? Does work have to be meaningless, or from another perspective, a means to an end? Does work and play always have to live at polar ends of the spectrum?

Sorry for all the questions, but I have been thinking about this a lot. I would love to hear from you. I think the more packed my life gets with all the good stuff above, the less engaged I become in my work, my home, my community... which are actually all very awesome things as well- just a different source of income in my emotional spiritual bank, if you will.

she's a soulmate

2010-06-21T07:26:00.000-07:00

They say that you can't name a bike until you meet her, and this, I completely agree with. In order to really get to know my new beauty, a custom Waltworks, I decided to go somewhere extra special for her virgin flight... somewhere we would be spending a lot of time getting to know other this August, and somewhere that has much less oxygen then down here in the low lands of the Front Range.

So here she is, amongst the hills outside Breckenridge. She got me up those hills with all her grace and beauty. She glides silently through the forest floor, knowing every move I make with the highest degree of accuracy. She is me. It turns out, we are soul mates. This my friends, is the excellence of a hand built, custom craft. Thank you Walt, for pouring so much perfection into her design and truely sculpting something that mimics my every hickup, swallow, gasp, giggle, and move of the hips. She is my shadow, my tandom, my twin spirit, my metallic other. I beg you all, to consider supporting a local hand built bicycle builder next time your heart throbs discontent with the bicycle you currently possess. Go local.

The sweetness of Colorado high country in the summer is only enhanced by fearless leaders, who always know "the way."

If you look really closely, she is covered in shinny sparkles.... but sometimes the BIG scenery drowns them out.

I think I'll keep her!

It's On!!!

2010-06-17T06:54:00.000-07:00

Towards the end of winter, I started to get into what you would call a "slump." I decided to follow the advice of my boyfriend: choose something that scares the hell out of you and commit to doing it this summer. So I got thinking about a mountain bike race and thats how I landed on the Breck Epic.

Now its on! Its on for real people. I got a free entry into the race in exchange for daily blogs documenting the epicness of this adventure. Thanks to those that supported me in the voting contest!! The only thing that remains between me and this event is lots of hills to climb before it starts.

There is approximately 37,000 feet of climbing over the course of 240 miles in 6 days. And yes, I am scared.

I went for a ride up our backyard canyon last night and thought about a few new priorities to sink my teeth into. I do well with structure, but I have committed to making this a number free experience (meaning no intervals, no training logs, no stress over how much time I do or don't have to ride)... so I need another way to funnel my time + energy into a productive run up towards the race.

A few simple objectives for my new obsessive time suck:

1. Ride as much as possible. Simple.

2. Feel good and look good on the bike. Who says pearls don't make you climb faster?

3. Make as many trips to the high country as possible. Colorado is beautiful in the summer. Duh.

4. Remember, while coming down for the high of being in the mountains, that you will not live in the Front Range forever.

5. Remember that I have an awesome job, and even if it robs me of time with my bike, its one of the best jobs I could ask for. we make beer and love bikes, and that's neat.

6. Document the process. There is always time to stop and take a picture, write a story.

7. Beer is an essential recovery libation, and its equally important to promote this awareness amongst those around me.

8. Its fun to keep up with the boys. It's even more fun to make them hurt. Do this as often as possible.

9. Install a big crazy horn on my handle bars to remind me not to take myself too seriously.

10. Promote the great work and legacy of the amazing people I ride with and the companies I admire.

rainbow

2010-06-03T08:27:00.000-07:00

shared

beauty

The Breck Epic is calling....

2010-05-25T06:50:00.000-07:00

Hello pretty people. Its Tuesday morning and the forecast is still sunny, inside and out for me.

I am writing to announce my big, looming, epic goal for this summer... a 6 day endurance mountain bike race called The Breck Epic! You may have heard of it before. All I know is that its going to be HARD, and WILDLY different than anything I've ever done before... So I figured it would be a great "first race back," if you will.

A big reason I chose this event was because it offers me this great opportunity to publish a new and refreshing perspective I'd like to bring into racing. I call it the Do It Yourself approach to racing: I am my own sponsor (thanks to my j-O-b at New BElgium Brewery), I bought my own bike (a beautiful custom hand-built Waltworks), and I am going to make my own clothes (on my sewing machine) and my own energy bars (in my kitchen.) The race promotor is hosting a blogging contest, with four free entries at stake. If you win the contest, you get to document your lead up to the race and a report after each stage. I am hoping to win the contest primarily to entertain the success or failure of this perspective.

I've got one week to collect votes, so I'd love yours. Read all the applications under the "discussion tab" on The Breck Epic Fan page on Facebook and vote here:

http://www.facebook.com/TheBreckEpic

Whiskey Fire Sunshine Stew

2010-05-24T07:45:00.000-07:00

Its funny, how re-vitalizing a weekend can be.

My idea of a good time starts with shoveling, spreading, and sifting manure in the garden all day Saturday. Get out the whiskey and slow cook a stew over the fire in our back yard Saturday night. Wake up the next day and drag your SS on a ride from the house with about 4,000 ft of climbing. Monday morning, check your fate and find sunshine in the forecast for the next 10 days!

I have been noticing a slightly unattractive agitation in my moods the past 10 days. I think thats what working over 40 hours a week does to me. It makes me irritable. I am lucky. I rarely have to work over 40 hours, and I rarely have bad things to say about my work... but more than 40 hours of work does not translate well for me. I hope you have this problem also. We are thriving human beings when playing in the sunshine and the fire- much more than we are behind a desk of any sort.

My Mom Shreds the Wild Gnar!

2010-05-18T18:17:00.001-07:00

Its true. My mom is rad!! Check her out:

Pennsylvania may be a wonderful place to be from, but I have certainly found my home in Colorado. Ever since I made my way out west, I have been making my Mom jealous with tales of adventure in wide open wild places. She is not like typical moms, as far as I know. Instead of growing up doing the typical kid stuff, I grew up with cold toes from winter camping voyages, oatmeal breakfasts on the weekends in a homestead with no water or electricity, and a harness around my waist descending into vertical cave passage. I couldn't ask for anything better!

We both love mountain biking, and she has been reading books and articles about Moab for years. I decided to take her there, so she could shred the wild gnar...

Moab didn't feel as "wild" or "remote" as I had remembered it since this is the height of tourist season, but I think the spring flowers made up the tourist overload.

Being the fun hogs that we are, we squeezed some sweet singletrack revenge out of Fruita along the way home. A stop in Fruita should always include a visit to Hot Tomato Cafe for pizza and beer (after 4 days in Utah, 1554 Never tasted so good.) We also had one boy and one girl to scoop up from their fearless journey across the kokopelli trail, drenched in mud. Check them out. If my mom had a blog, I'd link her here too, but she sure the hell don't!

faces

2010-05-05T06:45:00.000-07:00

How often do you feel that sense of familiarity to the people around you? I would consider the occurrence of this high for me, but lately its been more variable. I have been wondering if I am becoming less of a people person as I get older, loosing some of my idealism, or just recognizing differences more frequently than familiarities. But alas, I have come to this conclusion: I will always been an idealist, tickled by the random kindness of strangers and the unexplainable current that binds us all together as an interconnected web of faces... but I also am growing to realize that culture is one of the most powerful forces of nature. We are culturally polarized in infinite substrata.

Two Thanksgivings ago, my girlfriend Cait and I packed up a car and drove to the western slope for a week of long mountain bike rides by day and elaborate meals by night with a group of friends which has fondly been referred to as the "friendsgiving posse." We started drawling portraits of our friends at night with chalk pastel. Just quick, intuitive sketches the the people we've known for years and the people we just met that night. Impatient to wait our turn for the page, we decided to draw one person on the same paper, at the same time.

The whole concept evolved from there, and we started taking our playful musing to the floors of Gallery Underground in fort collins during the first friday art walk.

The beauty resides in that 5-6 minuets we spent with each subject. This brief encounter was so free, timeless and open to the possibilities that reside in all human beings. We could literally see them, all of them, no matter how familiar or unfamiliar we were in real life. Its kind of this beautiful hybrid of two people feeling like a palm readers while gracefully dancing around one another's interpretations of the subject, on the same page, all to be presented as one. Maybe its the yin and the yang. Maybe its the balance of feeling connected and disconnected to those around us. But it surely is about feeling present and connected- which is a feeling that can be born anywhere- being it drawling a friend on the floor, zipping down some sweet singletrack, or eating a delicious peach on a summer day.

100 things

2010-04-28T18:41:00.000-07:00

It’s a beautiful afternoon. I’m at home, cooking while Andrew rests in the other room, reading. Two very simple, daily life kind of activities- but it is so pleasant, so perfect to do these things right now. The sun shines into our kitchen while I cook soup and bake muffins. The wind is blowing so loudly its impossible not to notice springs momentous arrival. The other day in yoga class we were asked to consider making a list of 100 things that make us truly happy. I thought it was a little silly and at the time, but now I'm stuck with this stream of consciousness that begs to be recorded in some way, while my muffins bake in the oven. I've got 25 minuets, so here goes the list, as of 6:45 on Wednesday afternoon on a fine spring eve.

1. the sound of wind

2. the smell of baked goods in your own home

3. my inability to follow a recipe

4. afternoon sunshine

5. happy house plants

6. drinking beer out of a mason jar

7. music that reminds me of other times and places in my life

8. organizing the clutter I want to hold onto

9. getting rid of the clutter I can live without

10. reading a whole book in one weekend

11. finding a beautiful flow to my day

12. being able to “just know” what I should do next

13. feeling graceful while knowing fully I am a klutzy person

14. twinkley stars

15. tailwinds

16. swinging as high as I can and concentrating on nothing else but swinging

17. tree climbing

18. river rocks

19. swimming

20. laying in the grass with the sunshine on my skin

21. smiling

22. making other people smile

23. yoga class

24. cooking dinner for my friends, my family

25. writing letters

26. getting letters in the mail

27. my grammy and grandpop

28. the sense of nostalgia

29. Déjà vu

30. being messy

31. trusting my friends

32. bacon

33. ice cream

34. eating a mango over the kitchen sink while it drips all down my chin

35. surprises

36. simple acts of random kindness

37. flower sniffing

38. day dreaming

39. garlic scapes in spring

40. rain on a tin roof

41. wrestling on the living room floor

42. watching steam dance

43. singing, even though I can’t at all

44. camp fires in our backyard

45. moonli dog

46. the satisfaction of a good sneeze

47. feeling fearless to be myself

48. encouraging others to adopt more reckless abandon into their lives just by living that way myself

49. hiking alone in the woods

50. dirt under my fingernails

51. sweet and savory together in any food ever

52. wide open spaces far away from anywhere

53. getting lost on bike rides

54. saying thank you

55. long, awesome bear hugs

56. jumping off rocks into rivers

57. story telling

58. making things up as I go

59. feeling inspired, connected

60. wishing

61. wearing weird clothes

62. honoring unique and beautiful things in the people I meet

63. SWIMMING!

64. being crazy, wild, and free

65. rocks, canyons, trees, and mountains

66. being muddy

67. thinking about the things I did when I was little

68. curling up really small

69. riding my bike super fast downhill

70. twirling around in a dress or a skirt

71. ringing my bell at strangers

72. taking pictures

73. feeling pretty

74. cowgirl boots and big, bright colors

75. bubbles

76. back rubs

77. giving foot rubs

78. kissing

79. believing in something so strongly nothing can alter your path

80. knowing that I am a passionate being

81. jumping right into something I love

82. taking care of other people

83. creating

84. trusting people

85. fluffy clouds in a big blue sky

86. SUMMER

87. the smell of a grapefruit that remains on my hands for hours after I ate it

88. coffee, coffee, coffee

89. big windows and wood floors

90. old things in general

91. an empty mind

92. bare feet

93. quiet, wide open mornings at home

94. waking up in a place I’ve never been before

95. feeling attracted to… anything, everything!

96. strange unexplainable things

97. conversations with my mom that I couldn’t have with anyone else

98. riding a tandem cruiser bike

99. good kitchen knives

100. holding hands

spring blossom

2010-04-19T06:48:00.001-07:00

Oh spring blossom, you are so brave! Your fearlessness is in my favor, for you have shown me the way. It is no matter what decay from which you bloom, as all eyes are on you. Nothing more but an endless cycle, your delivery is true. Winters interwoven dread simply melts away. All hearts open and lighten to the possibilities of spring. You find pleasure in providing, no matter how brief your tenure. To our relief, your beauty is a timely broadcast.

And of course your omen beckons not just a snapshot, but a personal tango, for you pulled me from my path down to your level. There beside you I am one, intoxicated by your symbolism. The ways in which you woo me, spring blossom, are too endless to count.

thank you spring blossom, for all the possibility you provide!

sarah snacks

2010-04-05T20:24:00.000-07:00

Solo mission, single speed bliss all morning on local dirt transitions well into sunshine, yard work and mothership wit all afternoon. I like this. I like it so much.

Sarah Snacks. Try making them at home.

Ingredients:

pepita seeds

sesame seeds

flax seeds

rock salt

sea salt

almonds

oat or kamut flakes

dried cranberries

walnuts

peanut butter (lots)

honey or agave nectar

2-3 overly ripe bananas

special instructions:

First, crush the almonds to a pulp. I recommend doing this with a mortar and pestle. You are looking for a grind slightly coarser than flour. Starting with sliced almonds helps.

Dry roast the pepita, sesame, and flax seeds on a cast iron pan. Add a generous dose of rock salt and fine ground sea salt here. keep the pan moving and toast until perfectly brown. trust in the beauty of sweet and savory all together as one.

Then mix everything listed above together, press into a pan and freeze for 24 hours.

Let thaw in refrigerator for a day, then cut them into squares the size you want to eat or carry them in. They will be kind of moist, so I roll them in a flour and cinnamon mixture before tucking them into a neat sheet of wax paper.

The last step is to pack them in your bag or your pocket and then be sure to set out to do something that makes you feel really awesome about who you are and where you are. Then eat them and share them with other sarah snack lovers.

playgrounds

2010-03-29T18:33:00.000-07:00

playgrounds are important. you must find yours and return often. please take your friends and hold hands. point out pretty views. take pictures and take time to giggle so hard you lay on the ground with your hands holding your belly it hurts so good. take chances and try stuff that might make you fall down. stay a little while extra. sing songs and celebrate make believe holidays just because. know what it tastes like, feels like, looks like.

Yeh! look at that sweet, desert singletrack! happy, happy, happy! spring is really here and the ceremonial trips west have come again! this weekend provided perfectly dry singletrack to revel in with space cowgirls, sunshine, and pockets full of desert love.

"thats where i fell in love"

"this is where I live"

go there. go where the rocks are so weird. make the crust crunch beneath your wheels. be inside a landscape so wide open with possibilities your wild and enchanted imagination soars. come back when the seasons beckon. bring your secret places of paradise with you everywhere you go.

elements of a successful week of training

2010-03-20T18:47:00.000-07:00

Because I am on this crusade to do something "epic" this summer, I have been training avidly.

Recently I posted the breakdown of my daily commute to work and yoga. This is the fundamental daily bread of my training activities in this transitionary phase one of my handcrafted program.

I have realized that since the adoption of my new intentions to be more epic, I have neglected to notice some of the more subtle elements that keep any training program in check. I spent some time reflecting on that this week and have recorded some highlights below. I recommend incorporating some of these fundamentals into your program sometime soon.

yoga. be sure to be fashionable about your attire, and flowing in synergy with those practicing near you.

baking. best saved for rainy (or snowy days), this does count as training, I swear it does!

taking time to bask in your own glory. seriously, isn't that what they made dirt roads in the middle of nowhere for?

Keep your eyes open. Just when you thought you were lacking direction in life, you might find answers to life's tough questions spray painted to an old rusty milk truck on the side of the road your riding on.

Remember and repeat: winter will end, winter will end, winter will end! Green grass is in sight!

what does it take to be a cyclist?

2010-03-14T18:06:00.000-07:00

Not much really. Hipsters and elitists might try to convince you otherwise, but you should not listen. All you really need is a sock to keep your jeans from getting caught in the chain and your good to go.

Myself and some friends decided to pedal into the dreariness of this cold, ugly Sunday morning for the final ride in our local underground series, the winter ralleyes. Todays route was supposed to travel about 85 miles, going through the town of red feather lakes... but collectively low motivation and looming thunderstorms diverted the route back towards home early on some of our favorite gravel roads with an elongated visit to our favorite country bar in laporte, colorado.

Scheming something epic

2010-03-12T06:47:00.000-08:00

So I have been scheming something epic involving a bike... Its been on my mind now for about a week and it has lead me to the inevitable... this undertaking is going to require training. Training has been a very bad word according to my personal vocabulary over the past three years. I have gone long lengths to avoid any sort of activity that could be classified as training... which has been great. I have enjoyed a casual paced life, learned what its like to have a real j-0-b (well sort of), and have relished in the opportunity to dig deep roots in one place and create a community bound to one zip code.

But the time has come. An epic goal looms on my horizon and I am going to have to initiate a legitimate training program.

I am going to concentrate the first block of this training program around my daily commute. I have just calculated my workout stats on mapmyride.com

Calculated Workout Stats

Lap Dist:	17.24 miles	Total Dist:	17.24 miles
Avg. Speed:	14.8 mi/hr	Calories:	693
Avg. Pace:	04:05 min/mi	Your BMI:	22.5

My average daily commute to work, from work to my yoga studio, from my yoga studio back to work and then from work back to home... comes out to a grand 17.24 miles every day!

I conduct these miles using one of my most valuable training tools, beautywild the bike. check her out:

This is the ultimate training tool! Notice several key features that signify my daily training sessions:

Her age. She is significantly older than me, which means she is much wiser

Her extra baggage. My ortlieb panniers are the bomb! Every day I carry extra weight to make race day feel that much lighter.

She is a fixed gear. The advantages of training on fixed gear are too long to list right now.

She has a Mavic Ksyrium front wheel. this is to remind me that I once was fast and people gave me things for free like sweet ass wheelsets.

She has an upside down stallion attached to the top tube. speaks for itself.

She is named beautywild. refer to previous blog entries for more details on this.

mega materialistic underconsumption

2010-03-09T18:43:00.000-08:00

According to last weeks promise to myself, March would be the first of three months that I live a consumer free lifestyle (save food + bills + non-tangible items like my yoga membership). I have decided to keep a recording during this time of everything I have thought about buying.

I started out writing kind of large and then I realized that it was the end of day one and I already used 30% of the two pages in my journal I dedicated to the recording.

I have started to write smaller and take note to any trends. seems like bike parts are on the brain. interesting....

MaRcH is for mOtivaTioN!

2010-02-28T14:07:00.000-08:00

YES! March is for motivation! March is for new tracks in the snow. March is mindless bliss everyone. March is time to magnify what life is all about and ask yourself what you would like to boldly proclaim as yours in the upcoming season of abundance, Spring! Figure it out and shout it out. Here is a list to Mark my March!

(1) March is for mega materialistic underconsumpiton. I am pledging the challenge of forgoing all these nice and "necessary" pieces of gear I think would be great uses of my money and saying fuck it! I am going to attempt three months of non-materialistic acquisition. March, April and May. Food and bills are allowed and I'm keeping "services" like movie tickets and yoga memberships within my consumer reach for now as well. Check back often to learn about how easy and hard, wonderful and fulfilling these three months might happen to be. It is my belief that this will come with no sacrifice of proper outdoor play, depressing episodes of dress or personal glamour, or outrageous outbursts of consumers glee. Hopefully it will instead be all about stopping long enough to really notice what I lust after as a consumer and reassessing if I already have it or could make it myself.

(2) March is for meatless monogamy. I have thought about it before, but never really loved the idea enough to be exclusive. I consider myself primarily vegetarian, with the semi-regular love affair with bacon, burgers or gas station pork green chile burritos. Apparently I have the "look" of a vegetarian already, since many new acquaintances seem to just assume I'm a vegetarian. For the sole purposes of proving them wrong, I will probably eat meat again some day soon.

(3) March is for a two wheeled return. I never thought buying a car would make me feel so gosh darn guilty. Its too terribly easy to forget about how fulfilling it is to rely on the rusty bikes in your shed to get you everywhere you need to go. I have options, sure. But I have lost a little bit of that fearlessness that faces any weather or lack of warmth in favor of pedaling to work. Its time to return. Plus, we just rolled out this new software at work that tracks everyones mode of transportation- daily- so I've got reality to face with my peers now also. ha!

what color is your parachute?

2010-02-20T14:29:00.000-08:00

For all of my life, I have been plagued by the infamous question "what do you want to do when you grow up?"

And when I say plagued, I mean seriously plagued.

tr.v. plagued, plagu·ing, plagues

1. To pester or annoy persistently or incessantly. See Synonyms at harass.

2. To afflict with or as if with a disease or calamity.

All of my life, it has felt like a disease. A chronic dis-ease that does not go away. It started when I was a little girl. My parents never really liked their jobs too much and they were always stressed out. Every school project that allowed for it was dedicated to researching stress management, the side effects and causes of stress and the general topic of human contentment. Research (and real life) always lead me back to the same thesis- that people don't like their jobs and that stresses them out.

Then I befriended our high school guidance counselor. She was also my field hockey coach. I IDOLIZED her. She seemed so smart, so powerful, so essential in providing some sort of allusive and inaccessible direction that leads us towards our path... towards knowing what the heck we want to do when we grow up, what we should study in college, where we should go, do, be.... I told everyone that I wanted to be a guidance counselor when I grew up and people made fun of me a lot. They thought I just wanted more game time for field hockey and that I was a brown noser. But no! I was conducting research, getting closer to my very own calling, uncovering mysteries and moving towards the the groundbreaking discoveries that would make up my life's work....

Why, I kept asking, do people consciously and continuously choose careers that are unfulfilling?

Maybe its because its really stressful to know what, exactly, you want to "do" when you grow up. Most grown ups are still asking that question. Maybe you don't want to grow up. Maybe you don't want to do anything. So many things inform the ways in which we go about answering these questions for ourselves... things like what our parents expectations are for us, what we see on TV and hear on the radio, what we have grown to idolize, what we are good at, not good at, what's available, what's easy, what's realistic, feasible, meaningful, smart. What does all that mean anyway???

Dude, I'm sure just reading this is making you tired, stressed out, and unsure of the goodness of your life's destiny. I don't blame you!

I have done my best to avoid the reality of the word "work" all together as best I can. I hate the word work. Have a look:

work
	A place where people have to go everyday to get paid. Also known as "hell". I don't want to go to work today!

Yeah, I mean seriously, we need to make a mind altering shift here. Work, as we all know, is a means of subsistence. A way to gather the goods- just as hunters and gatherers did back in the day- to survive. It means one thing folks:

Benjamin Franklins, people. You need lots of them. More than you know, to survive in todays world.

So how, then, can we acquire the necessary hard cold cash, to survive while sustaining a peaceful and fulfilling existence in our work lives????

Is it all about figuring out the cliche "what color is our parachute" mystery, or is it about our culture and our society, that is largely unhappy with their work but views it as a necessary evil, normalizing the whole equation that an unfulfilling work life is just what everyone deals with, so put on your big boy pants and deal with it kind of thing?

february is to surrender

2010-02-01T16:43:00.000-08:00

Today a friend of mine told me that February is the month to surrender, to submit. I found this interesting conversational material with myself, while pedaling home from work through a tremendous headwind. The suggestion, that February is for surrender, seemed to make a lot of sense. The wind wasn't going to stop for me. The summer sun is nowhere to be found, no matter how wildly I crave sweaty skin, t-shirts, and swimming, we remain in deep winter. 40 degree highs are not too bad, but it sure is not shoes off and sitting on my porch weather. Its an interesting thing, to redirect your desires... to "align them with the season." Normally I enjoy living seasonally but right now that just seems like bullshit. So are all these brick walls that beg us to submit here to say fuck you, or are they more subliminal offerings to slow down and pay attention to that which we don not hold control over? What really, do we have control over in life? Its a big messy mystery if you ask me and the only opportunity we really have is quite simple- to smile while submit our moods and our whims to that which we are presented, while quietly and earnestly saying thank you. Thank you for that failure of a sewing project. Thank you for the beer in the fridge when all I wanted was wine. Thank you for the mental breakdown and thank you for the stubbed toe. Each one of these things is a pretty damn unique canvas just begging to be made into something new.

Sometimes its beneficial to turn off the group ride early...

2010-01-02T13:52:00.000-08:00

I decided to check out Fort Collins "infamous" Saturday group ride this morning- The Oval Ride. It was my first time doing it, yet alone doing any group ride in over a year. Nothing has changed about roadies since I myself identified as one. I suppose I never really enjoyed being identified as exclusively a roadie, preferring titles like "bike racer" or "elite athlete" or on more casual days, just a regular old "bike rider." At least bike rider implied you could ride anything, anywhere. Thats more what I relate to now. Bike rider. People ask me what kind of bike riding I do and I say that I have 9 bikes in my shed for different occasions.

Anyway, I got a little bored on the group ride today and decided there were some serious advantages to turning off early and locating a cafe. I ordered a breve which is basically a latte made with cream instead of milk and a cheese danish. I scored some bacon that was destined for the trash because I overheard the kitchen saying that it got 'burnt' so I rushed in and upgraded my afternoon delight. Bacon cheese pastry + breve latte = extremely better afternoon than suffering on some skinny tires.

The Hills Behind My House

2010-01-01T15:52:00.000-08:00

January 1st, 2010.

Being the first day of the year and all, I decided to get out in those hills behind my house.

How big are they, and what great omens do they hold for this new year? Sitting in my favorite perch, I discovered that bigger is not always better. Even though the snow covering makes them look less like foothills and more like mountains, these are no 14ers to say the least. I look forward to living in the belly of the Rockies at some point, but for now, the foothills have more to say to me... They remind me of where I am at, amongst this incredible new landscape and how I've gotten myself this far away from Pennsylvania Dutchland.

I thought about going up there to scribble down some intentions for the new year, but used the time to record all the goodness of 2009 instead.

2009 seemed to offer up some pretty big ticket items: a new job, a new car, a new home and a new relationship. wow. Thats a lot of things to sort through and I realized that I want to spend the first part of our new year really being grateful for what i've already got, before I go asking for anything else.

misplaced things

2009-12-23T09:58:00.000-08:00

What is it about old things? I constantly find myself drawn to old things. Out of date and discarded books, Colorado magazines from the 1970s, antique glass jars, wooden milk crates that are falling apart but still good... how the makers of these things would laugh at me back in their day, if they knew how I continue to choose their craft over anything modern day has offered to me now. But it feels better to me. Its as if I was there, as if I made that old glass jar myself and just misplaced it for awhile. There is something amazing about the feeling you get when you find something you've misplaced for awhile. And I am not just talking about your favorite pair of striped socks that got stuck behind the dresser all last winter. I am talking about new people and new experiences that seem to "return" to you, with a familiarity you can't quite put your finger on, even though everything logical allows you to believe the encounter is original, unique, never had before. Ah nostalgia, you are one of my favorite things. A few days ago I went to an estate sale down the street and bought a bunch of old things. My favorite acquisition, which I got for free, was a whole bag of left over pieces of wrapping paper that the woman saved over the course of her life. Each slightly torn piece of paper was a remnant from the celebrations of her life. She saved them, thinking to reuse the paper... but did not get around to using it all up. It is greatly satisfying to me knowing that i saved her treasures from the trash, and wrapped up all my own gifts this year with her lost pile of reusable bounty.

2009-12-14T10:08:00.000-08:00

to blog or not to blog

2009-12-14T09:59:00.000-08:00

uhlblogging. an interesting concept playing around in my mind for some time now.

i have been waiting, holding out, contemplating the the worth of a blog and the purpose of such a thing. content. that has been the biggest question in my mind. what the hell is this thing going to be about? but what it really comes down to is very simple: we all have something to say. some small beauty we recorded in our mind, that we would like to share, or expand upon... just so that we may live it just that little bit further.

so my content? the beautywild. its all around us. everywhere. everyday. more than you ever knew it could be.