Psychlo Night - My First Cross Experience

It's Sunday morning and I'm having a cup of Montana Jacks I just brewed with a bit of milk. Sunday's I put a little milk or cream in the coffee. Something to look forward to each week. Other than my lungs, I'm feeling pretty good.

Todd and I left at about four yesterday and headed for Butte and once again Homestake Lodge, where Chris (the lodge owner) and Warren (Highlands Cycling) were putting on a cyclo-cross bike race under the trail lights at night. Last year I finally got tired of riding my Big Sur out 12 West to the Lochsa or out 200 and decided to buy a cross bike (Jake the Snake). At some point I decided I'd attempt to race the Snake, though its principal function for me is training for endurance events and commuting.

On the drive over, we got to Garrison Junction and noticed a plume of smoke coming on fast from the Deer Lodge area and I started to get bummed. By the time we got to Race Track, it was full darkness in spots and it appeared that the fire was just south of this exit. We got optimistic as we drove along as it had cleared just west of Butte, but then coming into town, it was almost completely socked in. Homestake, just prior to dark was pretty clear. The original plan was to camp and head back the next morning.

Warren and Dave were pretty funny when I registered grinning saying "I thought you only did the longer rides." I put my hand on Todd's head and explained it never hurts to try something new. Dave asked what category and I said 3. I had checked the cross results from last year and decided to begin here. Russell (a local official) in an e-mail said I could be anywhere Master B or A or 4, 3, or 2. I figured I may as well make it hurt.

Friday Todd had run 10k for his school's main fundraiser, jog-a-thon, and had decided to sit this one out, acting as my "pit" and seeing what this new sport was all about. There were quite a few racers from all over the state. I recognized quite a few folks and visited with many of them and asking a lot of stupid questions, though I had read Burney's Cyclo-Cross book.

The first thing I noticed was that no one had saddle bags. Then also that most did not have water bottles in their cages on their frame. Where were the tubes and pumps and tools? Then I heard racers asking other teammates or friends if they had an extra wheel? Guys were hiding wheels along the course. Wheels. I took my saddle bag off to not look stupid I guess, but kept the pump on the bike and put a tube and tire tools in the back of my jersey. The number went on the back right of the jersey as well, not the bike. I just told my son to have a bottle ready when I came by if I asked him for one. All of the above was consistent with one thing, cross was going to be full on for 50 minutes - period.

The first group (Master B, 4's and kids et. al.) were sent at 7.45. It was a large group and I was happy to see the youth there. This group had mountain bikes and cross bikes and represented the majority of the evening's racers. While these racers were racing, it was interesting that the next group to go was simply riding around the start/finish area on the course (where there were lights) and it was pretty laid back encouraging their friends and team mates on course. I was trying to get warmed up as I had already done so pre-riding the course prior to the first group starting. This meant forty five minutes of cooling back down while they raced, not good. So, I re-warmed up about 10 minutes prior to their finish, trying not to wreck into anything in the dark away from the course doing so. One of the A Masters looked up at the half moon and said it's orange, also not good. It was hot, 8.45, and we were now in the smoke for sure. One guy was coughing and hacking away (me too). I drank a bottle of sports drink and ate a gel, lubed the chain and checked my starting gear and went to the line.

10, 9, 8, 7, ...1, GO! I was about column two on the right. It was a powerful explosion consisting of a large cloud blend of dust and smoke as racers fully sprinting out of the saddle ripped through the start and down the first turn. Bob was there and said he'd be cheering for me and was not too surprised to see me at the race. I said look for me near the caboose most likely. I tried to stay on a few racers I knew, but when we got to the single lane I was probably about 5th from the rear of the pack. The course had been rutted up a bit now by the first group to race. After the start area, it descended a road that was divided by cones for racers to come back up the course opposite where we were descending through out the 50 minute race. The ruts were sandy, and one of my objectives for the evening was not to wreck - read stay off the front brake as much as possible. Cross bikes have skinny tires, like a road bike to some extent though knobby, which makes matters interesting off road.

After the cone section (my lungs, legs and heart were all screaming) there was a brief single track dip to the left in the dark with roots, and then a clip out and run up the hill section. One of the things about cross that I was a bit worried about is that it involves running (up hills, hopping over barriers etc...) and a lot of clipping in and out of the pedals. My only concern about this was my knees (turned out fine and not to be an issue - good news). Climbing up that hill hurt as racers ran up the hill carrying their bikes. For the first few laps I carried Jake, on the last ones I jogged up pushing the bike holding the bars. After the climb, we bombed down a road section with some lights off and on, around some loops then into a sandy mucky dip, up and out, off the bike across one barrier (a board) down and around up to the cones, staying right. Then, on the road to the lodge again, off the bike for two boards to run over and then back into the start area.

On a couple of the laps I got a bottle in the start area from Todd, took a few sips and immediately tossed them in the same area off of the course while riding through. At about 45 minutes I was lapped by two of the top racers, and then a third at the end of the last lap. Bob, Dave and Warren were cool in the start/finish area encouraging all the racers during the race and said on on my second to last "one more." I was happy to hear it and wondering if I was hearing things. Full exhaustion. I may have had my first DFL (dead flipping last) in a long time, not sure yet. It was cool though, and I'm pretty sure I can get the hang of this and now have something to build off of. Many of the successful mountain bike racers (see this year's Butte 100 results and the CCPs in '08 and '09) are also cross racers. So, it certainly can't hurt. It is going to take a back seat to antelope and general big game season though. Hunt, train, race. It can be done.

One of the highlights of the night for me was seeing Bill Grey come into the finish. Bill probably does not realize it, but he was one of the guys who really encouraged me in 06/07 during the cross country races and I really appreciated that immensely. A true steward of cycling.

Todd recognized one of his friends from the youth group at FPC and after the race we had a nice visit in the smoke. Many folks were camping and doing the next race, Copper Mtn., today. We had to be back for two soccer games (one Todd is ast. coaching and the other for the little bro.) and a paint ball birthday party. We thanked Chris and drove home.

I think the enthusiasm is there. Missoula is fortunate to have a Wednesday night after work series which we plan on attending. Part of me feels like I went to a gun fight with a sword, but we had a good time and learned a ton!

Scapegoat Wilderness Fly Fishing

This time, Nick was in charge. We left the office today at about 13.oo and headed out 200 East from Missoula. I was glad to have another driving and in charge today. I could focus on one thing, relaxing and fishing!
When we got to the trail head into the Bob, there were more horse trailers than I have ever seen at any one entrance into any wilderness. Big game season opens typically earlier in the Bob than the rest of the state, but this was ridicules. More horse trailers than I could count, literally, including wall tents in the lower parking area where we were parking for a simple brief afternoon hike to fly fish.

Well, it was maybe close to 85 or so and we were both sweating walking up the trail to sections of the drainage that we were familiar with. Nick was wearing his jeans and running shoes rather than hike in in his waders. He carried a pack with needed items. I, on the other hand, had decided to go ahead and walk in this year in my hip boots, knowing some of the pools would not forgive me for this short cut.

We started on our way and the first folks we saw coming down the trail back to the trail head were two game wardens on horses. The one in the lead coming at us said the mule behind his friend's (colleague's) horse, was unpredictable and to watch out when he came by. We stood quietly below the trail waiting for them both to pass. It went fine and they continued on to the campsite where there were umpteen horse trailers. We, meanwhile, continued forward up the trail into the Scapegoat.

Something pretty funny occurred while we were hiking away. Following the two rangers on horseback came a solo man down the trail towards us. He was wearing an orange vest and carrying a rifle. His eyes were blue. He said "How far are you going?" We said we were not sure. He said if we continue just beyond two miles, there were five large brown trout rising to flies under the pack bridge. He appeared to be dead serious. "Stay on the People Trail and you will see them after the bridge." he said.

Well, we already knew where we were going, but this changed things and, after all, what did we have to lose going further up the trail? It was hot, but we decided to hike in two miles or so to find this bridge he was talking about. In the parking lot, among the horse trailers, was a Toyota with a "Cows not Condos" and U. Penn. sticker. After about forty five minutes, and hiking in my hip boots, I was wondering if this man (probably from Lincoln or Ovando) thought we were from the east or west coast or something and was giving us a good story to "influence" our afternoon - read, extend our walk in. There was no doubt he was a local, and I had chosen a nice long sleeved oxford over my Bike t-shirt due to the hot sun (Nick, from Gold Creek, always looks "local"). By the way, I said to my friend Nick, "I've never seen or caught brown trout in this drainage!" We both still agreed he seemed darned sincere.

We were beginning to get perturbed and were sure this fellow had taken us and finally decided to drop down to the drainage which was not too far below the pack trail anyway. We decided to forget the so called bridge that the "local" had pointed us to.
I went up and Nick went down. I started with my typical routine, a stimulator. One rise which I missed. Then nada from there. The pools were deep and crystal clear. Then for fun I put on what had never failed on this stream, a green drake with a golden wrap. Not even a bump. So, in frustration, I reached for the last option prior to going wet - an Adams (I was out of parachute Adams flies).

[Nick above working a nice pool late in the day]. There were fish rising in the hole I was fishing. The Adams, as always, worked. I could not see it worth a damn though, lucking out promptly catching a half dozen or so West Slope Cutthroat Trout. The fly survived all of the fish but the last which mangled it beyond recognition. These were very large and healthy fish. I could not have asked for a better Friday afternoon in Montana. This is, after all, why we live here.

I slipped down to my friend to see how it was going and he said he was mad also that that guy had sent us so far beyond the holes we had fished in times past and done so well in. Translation, he was not connecting. He tied on an Adams and have a look at the above! Look pretty happy? It was a respectable cut for sure. One happy camper.

We played leap frog down the stream back to where we though we could hike back up to the pack trail. It was getting dark at about seven thirty or so and we decided we better call it a night. I connected with a nice fish just prior to departing at dark. Man, I cannot describe the mellow feeling tonight of just getting on the creek and away from it all. It was wonderful.

The fall colors are finally starting to change here. It seems odd given how late in the year the present warm temps are lasting. However, I know how cool it is getting at night (getting up early to hunt grouse) and it is most welcome.

Nick and I visited extensively about how fortunate we have been this year. We both could not think of a period where the summer has been so excellent. Usually, something is fubar. Fires, hot temps, cold, rain, smoke from Idaho, something. This year it has been A plus. It's great to be able to take advantage of it.

In the dark hiking out we came across three young hikers (two men and a women) in one party heading into the wilderness to fish and camp. They were not wearing orange, though the lead man was carrying a rifle. We asked if they had a map and knew anything about a bridge about two miles into the hike? They were new to the area they said; however, one of them had a map. Well, lo and behold, there was indeed a pack bridge two and one quarter miles from the trail head! The man who seemed sincere to me was indeed accurate about there being a bridge about two miles from the trail head, and had we continued on a few hundred yards or so, we would have been there. Now, about those browns? It was a great night regardless and my deeply held belief to trust one's instinct remains intact! Next time we head for the bridge.

Beargrass Highway and Point 6

On the above map, the star is Second Thought and the red flag is the Beargrass Highway. The wings are on Point 6. The below satellite is coming up the Beargrass.

Well, I guess I can only stay off the the bike and out of the mountains for so long. I was feeling the urge to ride and decided to strike out Tuesday after work for the Bowl to do a few laps. I always feel right at home at the Bowl.

It seems that people in Missoula either love the place or go elsewhere to ski. I guess it is an intimidating hill to some folks and some simply don't like the road in the winter. The road is looking better every year and the equipment is working away again this summer.

I do not go up on the weekends to ride the lifts up and then put on the pads to ride down the Beargrass single track. I prefer to go up on weekday nights and be with the animals and birds and that's pretty much it. I rode with five blue grouse Tuesday night, one of which (just below the Hour Glass) refused to get off of the trail. The above couple of shots are above Chicken Chute and then the brief drop going over into the West Bowl (also below).

It is about 45 minutes from the parking lot to the Upper Grizzly Lift and then it is a road basically to Point 6 (an electronic site). I updated a few photos on the right of this page of the Bowl views and sections. Below is the peak looking into the Rattlesnake Wilderness.
Below is also from the top looking north towards the Mission Range on the Flathead Reservation. Tuesday was the perfect night for the ride. It was crisp on top with a nice breeze. I usually drop off of the front face (a steep road) coming off of the point, which is more fun.

I notice that the boys have been tearing down a few trees above lower LaVelle when I was riding up. I slowed down on the first descent coming out to get a shot of the new run. Should be good. They left a few trees in there as well. It drops into the creek.

The sun was setting when I reached the Angel Face entrance and I stopped and took the below shot looking back towards the Griz lift. It felt good to stop and take it easy. I noticed the crack in the Bontrager carbon race bar is getting worse. When I was in the shop looking at the Superfly, I noticed the whole bike is basically carbon, but not the handlebar. I cracked it the day I went to the helepad twice on Sheep prior to the race in Colorado. The weekend riders have managed to loosen the trail significantly in spots, but it still is one of the best in the area. Missoula mountain bikers love this trail and have constantly voted it number one (most popular) in the area. The full ride to the top and back down is about 16 miles and there is about 3300 feet of cumulative climbing.

Once I got to the truck, I got my pack and lights (in case it got dark coming down) and headed this time up Second Thought. It was getting dark and there was now a chill in the air. This is a quicker climb, but there are some pretty steep grades on this section. I usually get to lower Spartan Headwall in fifteen minutes, but tonight it was almost twenty. It was quiet and I was at peace in the woods.

I took the below shot of Missoula from Point Six when I was again at the top. Then, rather than drop out the Beargrass in the dark, I went back down Second Thought. The above shot is right at the lake above Spartan. The red lights are TV Mountain ( a popular hike in and ski or board down area). This was the perfect ride. I am looking forward to strapping on the boards and seeking out the fresh powder soon though!

MT mtb Scholastic Jr. Race

We tried at the last minute to find a couple of other kids to attend this race from the Missoula area, but tennis, little griz football and a soccer tournament in Idaho this weekend meant no luck. We really have to give Geoff and Scott in Helena two thumbs up for putting on a great race and developing a powerhouse youth mountain bike program. I think Geoff mentioned that there were 30 orange jerseys this year versus 15 last year. I noted quite a few Helena area ski racers racing their bikes today as well.

Todd (LR) managed to put in five laps for the Sheepheads (and his school at this one), though he's been mostly off the bike since the Scratchgravel race. I think the top racer in the grade 6-8 (Middle School Category) did 7 laps (45.23 min.) - an incredible performance. My friend Chad (who took below photo) said they have been training for this race. Effort equals results and that was clear today. Todd said he had a great time and one of the spectators commented to me that he was smiling each time around.We headed with his sister after the Middle School race directly to Rock Creek. The High School kids were just getting started and the WERKs racers were pulling in for their noon hour start as well. Along the drive from Helena to where we were going fishing, I realized that I'm at a crossroads now (and feeling a bit guilty for focusing on the longer races and their training regimen). My kids are finally getting old enough to race and I'm pretty sure they enjoy mountain biking. Therefore, next year it will be back to cross country races for me for most of the season for the kids. We'll figure it out.Great race to all of the Helena racers. Very well put on and a big thanks goes out to all of the volunteers. We'll see you next year (except for the ski racers - see you folks in a few months). Hopefully next year we can get a larger Missoula turnout (two racers from Missoula this year - a big congrats to Alex in Missoula on his 2nd place!!). Fun time! Article and Results.

Can't Help It - Excited for Powder!

I was hoping to get a written report from Max on the Park City Point to Point, however, I think he summed it up with the call from his cell the morning after the race - "brutal!" The results indicate he got it done though! Nice job Max! I hope to do that one next year.Every time about this time of year when I watch the Gaffney Brothers scene in High Society, I am ready to strap on the boards. Their scene in this film is one of my favorite high octane skiing clips. This year I have to admit I'm looking forward to some serious skiing. Antelope, elk and then powder. Picked up the Mt. Baker's today for $275 at a local trail shop! Now will apply last year's John Wayne's and be in business. I checked out my latest issue of Powder which indicates the average price of the new boards across the realm to be north of $700 (most w/o bindings). Nuts.

The two shocks in the picture are going to have to go somewhere this winter to be serviced as they are both hurting units. Shipping shortly.

Autumn

As mentioned in the below post, when I got home from Homestake Pass, LR and I decided to make final preparations for his first grouse hunt early Sunday morning. We decided to stay local and search in the surrounding hills. I'm not sure when the last time was that the little guy got up at 5:30, but after I had the coffee going, I grabbed his leg and said time to get up. He was pretty excited springing quickly to life as this was his first hunt. The labs know when Autumn rolls around because the guy who spends his summer riding bikes and fishing finally puts them under birds. They get birdy and so does their owner. When we got to an area I like at about 7,000 feet, there were two pickups parked there and I explained that these were probably archery hunters, as Sunday was also the first day of bow season this year. I know there are some super mule deer bucks in the area the bow hunters were in and that was probably what they were up to. Rather than upset the bow hunters with dogs and grouse hunters, I dropped back to a lower section that has some great fingers to walk out below a ridge. Driving down to this area the sun was just coming up and a large black bear crossed the road right in front of us. "Did you see that?" I asked. "At first, I thought it was a dog." came the reply. We were awake now! It was not too cold and LR was wearing running shoes. That will change shortly though as antelope season is just around the corner. We walked maybe a mile or so along a onetime logging road that now had trees growing in the road. We talked about safety and he reviewed some of what he learned in his hunter safety class. I am a believer in that program put on by community volunteers and the dept. of fish and game. The kids come away knowing a great deal. LR had his mom's 20 gauge Remington pump. We walked along without one in the chamber. That was my idea. The disadvantage of this is obviously that when the dogs flush birds (mainly ruffed grouse) we have not first seen, we may not be ready to shoot; however, if one of us slips during the hunt, we will not have an accidental discharge. I felt better taking that route. Besides, often I see blues in the trees giving plenty of time to shuck a shell in the chamber. The pump had a different safety than his rifle and we once again went over that. "Red is dead" he stated showing me when the safety is off. We walked through many huckleberry and serviceberry patches as we neared the end of the first old road section. There are finger roads above and below this area that will eventually work their way back to the same area we had parked the truck. LR was not sure what to be looking for and I explained that the dogs would probably spook birds ahead of us and most likely out of the berry patches. Often, as a matter of fact I'm pretty sure always, the birds will flush down the mountain and not up above us. The explosive sound of the beating wings as the birds lift off will probably give him a brief heart attack as they often do. This most often occurs when one is big game hunting in a quiet stand of trees and tracking a beautiful animal or (also common) when riding one's mountain bike up a tough climb in the boondocks.Finally, the dogs did indeed spook birds and three or four rapidly flew down the mountain through the trees. We were now into the birds. I was not sure I wanted to drop down through the trees in this section. We were at the end of the road which along with the old roads above us and below, ends at a steep ridge that has a game trail going up connecting everything together. We decided to go down following the birds flight path. We finally flushed a couple of the ruffed grouse again but were not able to get a shot. I noted these were pretty large birds for ruffed grouse as well. We hiked back up and I noted someone was breathing pretty hard and he better get it together if he's going to ride in Helena next week! We crossed over the end of the road we had just walked out and continued up through huck patches to the road I knew was somewhere above us. Along the way, LR froze and said "Dad, look!" He had seen the bird prior to the dogs, sitting quietly on a the top of a ponderosa that had been snapped at some point by wind or lightning. In a flurry of excitement, Allie and Wen retrieved LR's first bird.

8 Hours of Labor - Butte

Friday Dan and Peter (these guys have been really good to me) made a last minute determination that I needed a new chain. A couple of the links were twisted or something, making the chain hop off of the smaller cogs on the cassette. I did not replace the cassette, which one normally does when they replace the chain. Both were practically brand new anyway. Pete also showed me a topeak bag w/o plastic clips (I hate those) to replace my saddle bag with a rip from the cartridges inside above the zipper. I learned about the chain issue tooling around Thursday up Pattee, thinking I would go ahead and attend the race at Homestake Lodge this weekend. I told Pete and Dan not to expect much as I had been living large (ie., Kettlehouse, good food, obligations out of town...) after Colorado and that included not riding. However, last year I had a great time at this race and I felt somewhat obligated to attend again as it is a local endurance event.


I got to Homestake after work on Friday and went for a pre-ride, after visiting with the Mules Sten and Bill. Bill caught up with me on the ride and we both agreed that the course was a big improvement over last years, with less wood chip sections. There also were some new single track sections which I had not ridden. The loop was a bit over 7 miles and had about 800 feet of climbing. After the pre-ride, we could not figure out where to pitch tents this year as the area we tented last year was off limits to vehicles this year and the field grass was up. So, we slept in our outfits (me in the back of the truck which worked fine). Chris has an incredible lodge on site which is only $20 to stay in (see last year's post above). There are also yerts and the area is popular for cross country skiing.


I had a great time during this evening. I met Jesse, who had the one nice tent set up next to his truck. Jesse was from Fernie, and had made the six hour drive down to this race. Jesse had met Bill at the World 24 Hour Championships in Canada which Jesse had completed. Bill had placed 6th. Jessie had also done the Transrockies this year. As you might imagine, Jessie and I spoke quite a bit about the Elk which flows through his home town, and also about the skiing in his area. I gave Ross, Bill, Jesse and Stenster each a Sheephead lid. It was incredible listening to their stories about the World 24 Hour event. Going dizzy and seeing things, getting sick, seeing crashes and accidents that were very scary and somehow mustering up the strength and will to endure to the end. I got some great tips on the Transrockies too should I ever decide to head that way. Jessie asked about Leadville and will probably put in for it next year he said. We stayed up until like 10:30 watching Bills homemade film of the 24HR race. The Mules (Rich, Sten, Bob and friend Paul) were incredible support during his race as was evident during the film. When we hit the hay, it was a full moon. We got to the starting line for this event at 9:00 and Chris, the Lodge owner, had indicated prior to sending us that we were the only people he knew who were needing to ride their mountain bikes 8 Hours over Labor Day weekend, and then he said go. It was a quick first lap and Jesse and Sten lead the pack. Bill and I were figuring maybe forty minute laps the night prior, but I was in after the first in 35 and some of the other guys were faster as I was probably like 6th at this point. There were more racers this year, including a guy from Alberta and one with a jersey indicating Wyoming (from Bozeman). Also, there were quite a few racing as teams. I ran an initial H/R too high following the guys in the lead. Average about 169 or so.The descents were fast. The course had a blend of jeep trail, dirt roads, some wood chips, single track through thick trees, and a very annoying couple of parts through high grass that had been cut to create a path. This grass section was filled with large bumps that were killing me on the hardtail. There were some creek/marsh crossings that initially had boards over them, but as the race went on they became broken up and on the 4th lap on one I had been riding across, I went for it again and my front tire went "in" (deep) and I almost did an endo. After that I walked across that one. There was a nice new bridge over a third one that last year was boards. At some point I passed Jesse and he said he had had a really bad face plant somewhere along the way and seemed happy to be ok.

By about the 5th lap I had moved into second and held that until maybe lap 7 when the bumps in the grass were killing my right knee and I was really getting annoyed. I think the cattle (which were ranging in this section) had created these. Then the fellow with the Wyoming jersey (Zach)passed me and I attempted to hold him. Bill was in the lead and according to Ross, was about 10 to 15 minutes ahead by this point. It was warming up now too, with the sun out. I was getting tired, and feeling my lack of effort recently. The food did not seem to be doing much to help either. After lap eight, just over 5 hours, I told Bob I was done, but may do one more. It was pretty funny, I signed in on this lap, was eating an apple riding, and there was Sten who had called it the prior lap. I said I may do another one, but was hurting. I got to the top of the little initial climb, felt the knee, knew I was tired, thought of the grass section and called it a day. Maintenance, essential to do these things.

It was a fun time and I was glad it was Butte because I was home at 5:00 planning a grouse hunt with LR for Sunday morning. It was great to see old friends and meet some new folks too! I wonder how Max did at the Park City Point to Point?

No Way!

A friend just e-mailed this video link of an urban cyclist in Scotland.

North Rim, Grand Canyon

A quick trip down to Scottsdale resulted in these shots for the LRs. Southern Utah is burning for sure and Salt Lake was smoked in when we drove through. Sad to see.

Cedar City was also filled with smoke. Rather than stay on the interstate and go through Vegas, I took the back road to the park (R. 89A) and then down to Arizona. I now know where Brian Head is and passed through some of that area heading down to the N. Rim.

It was my first time to this area and visiting the park. I'm going to have to slow down the next time through to get to know things a little better.
One thing that kept surfacing as well (in addition to the Brian Head riding) was Kaibib. Again, something new that I think Bedrock here in Missou knows a thing or two about. I was dying to explore the Vermilion area knowing this is where some folks get in some riding. However, it was not to be. It was 106 in Tempe! As always, I was glad to get back to Missoula where it is a very comfortable 89.