Missoula Sheepheads

River & Fish

2012-02-08T08:59:00.004-07:00

The West Slope banquet is the 25th this month. The River cleanup is 4/21.

First Lamp

2012-01-16T19:57:00.007-07:00

I rolled out early this morning.
The streets were empty while hiking along to the Village.
Neon beer signs were glowing in empty bar windows.
It was cold.
The wind blew fresh falling snow onto my face.
Finally, it was snowing.
There was a half moon and the stars peeked out between wandering clouds.
The groomer's had already done their work late into the night.
New snow now covered their work.
I took the skis off of the pack and pressed on the skins.
It was dark.
Two hours prior to sunrise.
Toni-Matt
Chair 1
"Hey, That's what the lifts are for!"
The kids (boarders) had yelled down Saturday late in the day during a lap.
I could still hear them as I skinned along this morning under the moon.
I notice no new skin tracks in the fresh 6 or so.
However, looking up I saw a lamp coming down the mountain.
Headphones on with mellow tunes,
I though this may be a snowmobile coming down from a distance.
Then, the lamp made fluid S turns and dropped out of sight over to Bench Run.
"Did that really just happen?
Was it my imagination?"
Good Medicine.
Ponds.
I continued up in the darkness.
Winds were stronger now and the snow blowing a bit more.
Upper Chair 5
Exploring Sunday, I had finally found a line without a traverse.
Quad laps of Chair 5, Big Face, Powder Trap, then Russ's briefly back to 1.
Connie's side had the traverse of the century with number 8 still closed (no base).
North Bowl or Cal's dumps too quickly into the flats.
I peeled the skins and pulled down the goggles.
The goggles were full of snow.
A moonlight descent.
Fresh smooth surface powder.
Then, a repeat.
Dawn.
Two snowmobiles driven by patrollers heading up to work sped by on lap two at the Ponds.
Chair 1 was now running employees to the upper House.
Eight shoes dangling without skis from the quad.
On the descent, three skiers were now skinning up Toni.
Back in time to catch the first run.
A good morning.
Thanks Big Mountain!

Another Tool in the Shed

2012-01-09T10:49:00.008-07:00

I was able to schedule the time to attend the LV II course last week. This was put on by an instructor from Victor (ID) in conjunction with the folks here in town with MslaAvy. The course covered rescue, documentation and stability (day one), snowpack (day two) terrain (day three) and weather and decision making on the final day. Time was balanced between the field and classroom. The instructors were knowledgeable and good communicators. I enjoyed the course. Missoula is fortunate to have these resources.

Jazzy Jam

2011-12-31T08:22:00.001-07:00

Tart this year 50 Eggs! Excellent! Thanks and Happy New Year!

Lolo

2011-12-22T17:07:00.004-07:00

Just got this one. Not the best, but it still makes me want to get out there!

"Moving on a Slow Bell"

2011-12-20T21:19:00.009-07:00

I heard it at first sounding faint from afar. Then, it became more clear. The snowplow! I sprang from bed and sure enough, it was snowing this morning (21st)! Not much accumulation on the bird feeder yet. Hope it keep it up.

So, continuing to build a bit on the machine at the gym. Got in three pretty solid tempos last night. Time to tweak the diet a bit as well. Back to a left over chicken breast on some bananas, avocado, blueberries, spinach, tomatoes, lemon juice and olive oil topped of course with heaps of cinnamon. Oh, and a few almonds in there somewhere for my knees. Regulars have already noted this dish... Excited to get in the hills!

Where's the Geese?

2011-12-17T17:08:00.005-07:00

Two at home today with a touch of something. Wen and I went to the Bitterroot this evening to throw sticks. Felt like spring out there. Maybe tomorrow the canoe, a rod and perhaps some waterfowl gear.

"A Psalm of Life"

2011-12-16T22:50:00.016-07:00

Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!-
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not the goal:
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Finds us further than today.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, - act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Back at It

2011-12-16T08:40:00.003-07:00

I finally figured out how to pair a new belt with an old and nearly broken watch. Ordered a new back to the watch as well...so far so good. So, it has been determined that I will attempt to get back in shape again to at least not make a complete fool out of myself (hopefully) at a couple of rando events. It's a bit embarrassing creating a pool under the cycling machine at a gym, but I guess that happens. So, the h/r stuff is to continue to get me motivated. Thad and Max are up for a few events as well. Thad is working on going sub-seven on the erg (I've never done that) and Max checks in that SLC needs snow and that he may be able to do the Keg this year rather than the sweep detail. I appreciate the Fam letting me take time to have fun in the mountains - Thanks Guys!

'Tis the Season

2011-12-10T18:50:00.007-07:00

'Twas rock skis this morning and a shift on the Trees in the afternoon.

Doves

2011-12-04T13:00:00.010-07:00

I noticed some doves in the backyard today. We finally got enough snow to cover things and remind me to put out some bird seed. Also, Carson's aviary had me thinking of it too. We usually feed the birds and enjoyed having a nest of them on our front door last year.

Things have been busy lately. Hunting season wrapped up empty handed this year. Some of the highlights were hunting with my daughter and giving her an opportunity at an excellent whitetail. LR blew a stalk on a buck as well. We never got into the elk, other than my early season bump into some cows. Late season, I had a brief window at what I believe was the same whitetail buck on the same ridge (as we were on a few weeks prior) while hunting on an A/T setup. Hoping to hone this skill for next season. Maybe he'll survive the winter and still be around.

Got some skiing in yesterday at Lookout with some friends. I looked at my training log and at this time last year it was non-stop bowl and Griz runs. We need more of the white stuff.

Columbus

2011-11-23T15:04:00.010-07:00

"Gratitude - not only the greatest of all virtues, but the parent of all others." ~ Cicero

Happy Thanksgiving!

Fixed

2011-11-18T13:21:00.002-07:00

Just wanted to take a moment and thank the local folks for repairing my 5 weight WT and honoring the warranty. Butter is back!

Lunch Today

2011-11-08T13:14:00.002-07:00

Things are coming along...

Another Whirl

2011-11-06T05:28:00.010-07:00

It's five thirty in the morning, Sunday. Today the clocks went back an hour and I am awake. There's no coffee, so I went the tea route until a bit later when we will make a coffee run prior to other activities.

I got home late Friday night. I think over a couple of hours a group of us had played something like a dozen games of squash, rotating among friends. I was pretty hammered, but the sauna felt great. Something I've not experienced in a long while. "Are we still going tomorrow morning?" I asked my daughter who was a bit bummed Todd had decided to take in the Griz game Saturday, rather than go hunting. But, replied "yep." I suggested we go ahead and sleep in as there was no rush and I knew some new muscle groups would be in agony for me in the morning as well.

"Look in one of the bins in the garage." My wife said the next morning. Between Sponge Bob episodes and breakfast, we were looking for some a pair of her brother's old winter boots. Sure enough, another hand-down to the rescue. One of the advantages of having three kids, except as the youngster will protest, "not for him." I finished some oatmeal and we filled the thermos with coffee. She likes coffee, but we keep it in check and generally decaf. Her brothers don't get her coffee thing.

"Maybe the cows will still be there." I said as we drove the truck down the road. Missoula experienced its first snow Friday evening. As skiers, we celebrated seeing it on the top of the grill looking out on the deck from the kitchen window that evening. Driving along, there was a quiet "Hope so." response to the cow comment. "Which spot are we going to?" She asked. I proceeded to explain a spot south of town where I used to go with a former neighbor when we lived in Lolo a while back. The former neighbor is now retired living in bird heaven in the Dakotas, formerly employed with the U. maintenance department.

We parked at a gate not too far off of the main drag and assembled our gear. She had a bolt action .270 with a Mauser type action. 150 grain Noslers. At this point I'd have to confess I am a fan of Mr. .270. I still today enjoy O'Conner's writing and have most of his works. One of the pleasure's of the Devil's Slide race (it's been a long time) was going to his museum in Lewiston. I think he generally stayed with a 130 grain, but I like a little insurance. I think once again the game in town takes some pressure off of the woods as there was no one else in the area. There also was not much snow, but just enough to be able to point out sign.

"What are those?" She asked looking down. "Pine squirrel tracks." I replied. It was maybe ten thirty or so as we walked up the road. In the thirties and occasionally snowing with the breeze. The boots were a bit too large for her, but seemed to be working out well. "Slow down." I whispered. Not sure where she picked up such a fast gait, but she loves to cruise along at a pretty good clip. "Look up into the hillsides and into the trees. Look at the sign on the ground in the snow." And so it went as we wound initially north up a road. "Which way is out?" I asked her. "I don't know." "Southeast." We left the road and had hiked up to a ridge top. We looked across the valley and I noticed another hunter walking a road through a clear cut far off in the distance. "Do you see him?" I asked. "I had no idea this orange was that bright." She said. He was a small orange dot, but visible and watching us too no doubt.

On top of the ridge, we cooled off with some water. We observed the wind and talked about staying silent going across through the trees. Many were now pines turning yellow. There were no human footprints. We pulled out two compasses, and discussed orientation. "This is the one we used in our class." She said, recalling her hunter safety class and showing me which way was southeast on the non-lensatic compass. We reviewed both and then started slowly working our way across through the trees. "Once in that bottom we watched two bulls sparring with one another. The neighbor took a pretty long shot and missed. I did not have a scope that day, so I did not take a crack at one of them as well." Looking down into the bottom where the lower road junctions I had recalled the old story.

"Wait a minute, don't just go cruising out into the open. Look first, take a few steps and then look again." Still on the ridge, we were coming into a little more open area where I've seen quite a few whitetails, most of which have generally seen me first and bounded explosively off of the ridge. We did not have rounds chambered which is the general approach when hunting with my kids. We saw nothing along the ridge and wound our way closer to where I saw the elk last week. While taking another break, drinking water and having some jerky I recalled another story about hiking out one night alone in the dark when a bear came up from the creek after me. I was sidehilling it out of there on a weekday evening when I had slipped out of work early to get in a quick evening hunt. The bear was running up the mountain towards me and growling. It echoed across the hillsides and I went pale. Finally I shot over the animal, just before seeing it. A long flash of yellow and red came out of the barrel and the woods went silent. A few days later, some other hunters confirmed that there was a dead elk calf in the creek bottom the bear had been feeding on. They were aware of the bear as well.

Approaching the top of the drainage, I had pointed out numerous deer tracks and we discussed simple things like "What direction is it going?" Which she figured out. There were no beds on top in the snow and there were no elk tracks. However, after a few miles and finally getting close to the main area, I smelled that familiar elk smell and enquired if she smelled it as well. "Yes, I smell something." The breeze was coming from the west, off of the mountain in a thickly treed gulch that I was not going to go down into. It was encouraging, however. On top in the open clear cut we glassed the entire section and I noticed a whitetail buck on a distant hill side. "Do you see it?" I asked. "No." She said. "We'll work our way over there by doing a loop across the top and down. But, this is where I saw the elk recently, so let's focus on that." I continued. "But, I want to go get the buck." She said. "Relax, he'll still be there when we go across." I said explaining the approach and going across first looking into the east among the clear cuts as well. I had taken a picture of a cow moose last year in the same general area as where the deer happened to be at the moment. She was so enthused though. "Is he still there? Where did he go?" She asked as we occasionally looked back southwest, while continuing north to the uppermost end of the ridge looking for elk. I could not believe my ears.

Unfortunately we bumped a whitetail doe which quickly sprang forth in the southwesterly direction towards the male on the distant hillside. We had finally reached the area where I could observe all directions with the field glasses and noted no elk. It was snowing. So, we dropped carefully down in the direction of the two deer. This meant digging in the heels and being safe going down and across to the west. She was in the front. We had followed the doe and she had gone across an old skid trail, up another small ridge, and probably back down still west to where the main large hillside was where the buck had been seen. That of course was not good news. We scampered up the little ridge and crept across the top. "Slow down." I said again. We peeked over and down to the base of the hillside and three deer, maybe a hundred yards away, sprinted up the lower hillside among pines. The buck was in the front, and he was a nice animal.

Last year my oldest had some issues holding the rifle steady while hunting. Even taking a rest against a tree was difficult. So, for my daughter, I picked up a cheap aluminum portable V job to have along to help in these situations. It also makes a nice walking stick. She put in a shell and I helped her get the rifle situated on the rest. "He's behind the tree above the does. Be ready he may walk out briefly in the open again." I said. The two does were legal for her and standing in plain view, but she was not interested. It was a pretty good distance, and when he went through the brief opening, it was too fast. I whispered "shoot" but the window was too brief and the three of them scampered quickly up the hillside to the top of the ridge. There are many small ridges all going north, fingers, to a main ridge that runs west and east.

We went to the top to where they were last seen and briefly followed their tracks. They had gone south down the ridge. To our west was a road which we could hike down which parallels its way south, to the west of the ridge the deer were on. We drank some water on the road and looked across and saw the buck standing with the two does many football fields across a drainage between us on the ridge side. "They may go all the way down to the bottom where these join back up." I mentioned. She liked the idea of the road walking out, so up above we had made the decision not to follow the animals. Once spooked, their hard to get back up on anyway. We never saw the deer again. After a chat about where I had once seen two large bull moose together where the road junctions in a section, we called it a day and headed for a hot thermos of coffee. "Dad, can I go tomorrow?" My son asked when we got home.

Squash

2011-11-03T08:42:00.010-06:00

"You know who his favorite writer was?" Todd asked walking into the room as I was lying down reading Franklin's autobiography. "Locke?" I asked. "How'd you know?" A nifty little chat began at that point about a past class of his and studying Mr. Franklin. I'm not completely sure if Locke is correct; however, I'm reasonably certain it (he) is. It's refreshing to note that Franklin in the initial pages of his work indicates his reason for writing was to provide some account of his life for his son. Todd also pointed out that William was not in the end a fan of Ben's. An ironic lesson. Locke made the early pages as well. Now, where was I going? Ah, yes.

"I hear you're dusting off the old racquet?" Came a question from a friend. I still have not located the racquet which is buried somewhere in a closet with second one that had year's ago been a gift to my oldest by another player. I had dropped the sport cold turkey following a knee injury skiing and a local facility with courts closing. The mountain bike happily filled the gap - and still does.

Squash is an amazing sport. Excellent for fitness as one has to "go to" the ball, which is soft and dies with proper drops or lobs. The sport involves technique as well with court boundaries and an annoying lower tin on the front wall. At higher levels, rallies can be quite long and fatiguing.

The sport, as rowing, still may be viewed today by folks as somewhat highbrow, where courts were once mainly found only at the nation's top schools. However, many of the best players in the world and at all levels for that matter come from all walks. Perhaps this was also the appeal of Saint Sing's rowing work. I have fond memories of whacking the ball around with my father year's ago in CharlieWest. I picked the sport back up in the late '80s playing at a court facility in Allston while at Huskyville as a student, where I met a CJ major and the head of the outing club, who was to eventually become my wife.

Squash is about fitness and fun. It is humbling to get severely beaten by a large former rugby player from England who simply knows the game - court knowledge and shot placement equal less running around. Perhaps we can squeeze in a few matches. There are new courts in town.

To Be Silent

2011-10-29T20:39:00.002-06:00

Yes, I believe animals send warning signals. It is always interesting as pine squirrels create a ruckus and then others chime in as well from more distant quarters. Might as well crack the largest branch in the area. Birds for me are harder to understand. Maybe ravens are somewhat understandable, but the smaller species are more complicated in their warning signals. I'm sure the signals are there though and probably game senses the signals as well. Good article Thursday in the local paper.

I was solo this evening and as things often go, the two legal cow tags were doing other things. I sat and watched three cows not twenty five yards away. They were hanging out among four whitetail does. No young hunters today though.

"Why do you have a band aid on your face?" My daughter asked upon my arrival home. "I had a quarrel with a polecat." I replied. Actually, I was hiking into the west in a thick bit of trees as the sun was setting. I was partially blinded by the glare and walked directly into an unnoticed branch. It started quickly at the right temple, and then forced itself under the glasses towards the eye. After the shock of the experience, I brushed it off and continued hiking. Then I felt the warm fluid run down my cheek and drip off of my chin. At that point I applied first aid and headed out. Lucky.

The Paper Roll

2011-10-29T20:36:00.005-06:00

Drafting Paper?

Been in the same section for two decades.

An old landmark.

Mule's Weekend

2011-10-27T13:31:00.004-06:00

Just got an e-mail to help spread the Mule's event on the 29th. We'll be in the woods most likely, but we'll be cheering for Sten, Bill and Rich!!! "Fuel the Mule." I still have it in the truck Stenster!

Base

2011-10-23T17:40:00.002-06:00

Rode up the gut today. The extra cloths on and in the bag cost me a couple minutes over the forty five target. Clipped out twice too, once traffic and once slop at the top. Penalty = Beacon. Went pretty smooth. Base is there for sure. Maybe start doing a few more tempo items now to bring down h/r. Getting pretty fired up for skiing. Had some rando chats with the mates as well. Looks like possibilities again this season. So, something above to improve on when there is time. Red is running well.

Carlton Tonight

2011-10-22T21:57:00.011-06:00

I took a quick shot tonight from above Carlton Lake looking towards Lolo Peak. Not too much snow. Steady rain this evening. No sign of game.

Quality Time

2011-10-20T20:12:00.011-06:00

I managed to get in some serious QT this afternoon and evening hiking through a favorite area not too far up the Blackfoot. Today and tomorrow the kids have school off and coincidentally the opening season for the youngsters is today as well. Either sex whitetail in our chosen district.

"Can we take the dog?" I was asked just prior to leaving. "No, not for deer hunting." I replied. She completed her hunter education just recently, so we went to the store around two and picked up a free first time sportsman's license, another nice incentive to take a kid out for her first day. There are already a few camps set up for the main opener on Saturday. I like to cycle this area too and once had a very unpleasant encounter with a mother brown bear and two cubs near the upper section just before it drops into the Seeley area. Never knew for sure if it was a griz or not, but noted tonight a sign in the area pointing out the difference between the two types of bears for those of us like me who happen to be also sporting a bear tag. I've never shot a bear and can't imagine a reason to do so, unless he's a dandy of course. She carried the bear spray tonight in her front coat pocket.

We glassed the bottoms looking for whitetails prior to dusk. The leaves below Mineral Peak are turning. It was light rain, with off and on partially blue skies. I got to catch up on basketball and school in general. Of course a peanut butter sandwich and a nap were first order shortly after our arrival. There was some sign in the area and we discussed that a bit. There also was a small thinning operation going on. Nice to see some employment in the woods. It seemed to be one fellow and he did not cut out until dark.

The deer never surfaced this evening (I think they're all in town), but I would not have traded the afternoon for anything. It's nice to have an opener for kids without many folks afield and miserable weather conditions. She wore sneakers. Perfect.

As usual, we should have taken a rod though. The Bonner check station has a vacant trailer awaiting Saturday for occupation. Tomorrow maybe again at some point. Another one wants to go too. We'll see. Some of us still have to work.

4-H Lamb Chops

2011-10-17T18:59:00.002-06:00

Another early fall favorite. Fresh chops from the auction.

Fall Traditions

2011-10-17T17:56:00.002-06:00

Someone recently asked if fall was here yet? So, I thought I'd post a few things that indicate we're there. Turning shrubs and fresh apple bread almost straight from the tree indicate things are turning.

The Goalie

2011-10-16T13:12:00.003-06:00

The inside of the truck is going to need some serious cleaning at the end of the day. Two games down and one more to go. Good job Wookie!

The Apple Pickers

2011-10-15T21:56:00.001-06:00

"At regionals, Dad, they asked us if we ride to school on horses, and they were serious." I was standing with Todd in the middle of an apple orchard at Green Bluff having a chat.

There was laughter and no response other than the suggestion to help his brother and sister pick some more Empire
apples. We also got a few pumpkins as well.

There were no shells on the Spokane today, though we looked while driving to and fro. It was another fun and generally uneventful (the best kind) road trip. Always good to get back though.

FTC Ends 15th

2011-10-09T17:16:00.007-06:00

Nice 10,000m pull yesterday Picidae! I think you and Thad are getting the hang of this! Muddling along into the wrap up....

9-15 through 10-13:

TJ: 55,790
ET: 2,009
TT: 21,174
PW: 68,867
PT: 7,851
BC: 57,765
GT: 226,975

Total: 440,431

Over the Hill for Marcy

2011-10-08T23:40:00.010-06:00

I could not make the final decision to go over the hill tonight or not. I got a call while watching Todd's game. A fellow who had only been to Blue and on Friday thought today's ride may work for his first full crossing was canceling. Then, on Bill's home page after the game, I noted on Twitter that due to snow at the A-Frame Norman had understandably called off that section and Sheep. I figured Bill, who I think had started around noon at Blue Mountain, would maybe still be plugging along somewhere behind and a track over may be encouraging. And, after all, it was for Marcy. So I'd still give it a whirl. Or, I could always turn around at the snowline in the East Fork if conditions were too bad. I needed to get a couple of hours of riding in the daylight because my batteries would not make a full dark crossing in the snow, which would be sure to take longer. I had three sub par extra lights in the pack too, along with extra cloths and necessary gear to make it through the night if I had to spend it on the mountain. Heavy. I left around five.

The corridor was totally gorgeous. Aspens turning above the main Rattlesnake creek. There was no one at the camp site at Franklin Bridge. I could not figure where the snow line was looking into the mountains prior to the bridge, but it seemed pretty high. I saw no game. I made the East Fork turn off, and the adventure had begun. I've written pretty extensively about this section in the past. It is a favorite area for me, though sometimes terrifying at night. I once while going across one of three creek crossings had an animal growl at me while slowly descending at dusk. Scared the hell out of me and stays with me each time through. Tonight, it was its normal Cascade like jungle, but other than that was fine. No snow until almost 6,800. A few portages, but not bad thanks to the horsemen.

At 6,800 things got interesting and I had to make a decision. Press on and see it through got the nod. Climbing through the snow I was remembering yelling down to Ed and Aaron last year from this area, the red light on my back flashing. This year it was just good tunes and good memories to get me to the top.The Canon that had survived submersion through Tumbleweed did not survive this trip. Climbing the upper switchbacks, it took a little tumble during a small slip on the ascent. I stupidly had it in an exterior strap pocket and did not notice until I got to the helepad area and wanted to get some shots. So I used the phone and took a few. I called Molly and visited, saying I on my way down through Marshall and Woods. I also sent out a signal. It was about eight, dark and the wind was blowing. I took off the wet jersey and replaced it with a warm thermal below my shell. My feet were wet, but still warm in heavy wool socks. The snow on the face was blown off in many places. Wisherd was quiet with some accumulation. It probably won't be long.

From Sheep Pk. to Blue was full on snow, about six inches most of the way. I descended with out the clips as they were loaded with snow and ice. It was fun. Slow and cautious going, but not too bad. I took the photo of the bike where I once stopped and sat on a log with many friends, enjoying an overlook during a group ride (Rick, Dave, Dan, Max, Bill, Sten, Ronnie...et.al.). There were a nice set of elk tracks through the snow here which was a new first. Some hikers had been to the top, maybe hunting but probably not. There are sheep on top and in the Wisherd are, but I've only seen them once. I cannot imagine trying to get an elk off of this mountain without a mule or horse.
Between the peak and Blue I was listening to mellow tunes and taking it all in. I was also wondering if Bill was behind me yet. The moon was bright and at my back. I occasionally turned around thinking the light may be my friend. Once at Blue there were two other mountain bike tracks that had stopped there coming up from Woods at some point recently. There was still plenty of snow. I descended down to the first (last) Three Pines turn off and then took it home to the trailhead. I had a text from Norman saying they had talked Bill into pulling this section and they were going to go off again at 12.30 AM to finish the balance of Marcy's ride. I was hammered, but felt great. Martin always motivates me to get the bike out for one more. Thanks Bill.

Bill's (Marcy's) RMVQ

2011-10-07T08:11:00.005-06:00

Bill's RMVQ is this weekend. On the DL and open to anyone. Looks like a hunter ed field day and two futbol games for us... but, one never knows. Maybe some riding in the night in the rain and snow. Um, between pulls that is.

ps. Cheering for Norman!

Too Tempting

2011-10-02T14:53:00.000-06:00

I went back to the marsh this morning. The big trout was on my mind through the night. Maybe the kid could get it done. After setting up the decoys, few birds were flying so we hiked a little upstream to see if he was still there. Same fish, same location. LR tried the adams while WD observed. Nope to the adams. Then a small group of mallards flew right over us, of course. LR attempted a stalk on the birds which settled further upstream. Nope to the stimulator. It was my turn, while I watched the stalk as well. I started casting a black wolly without weight. I finally got the drift right under his nose. Annoyed, the big fish swam under the bank and brush just below my feet. A whirl of now cloudy water. That was that. There were no shots upstream. "Any luck?" He asked, coming back down to me. "Nope." I said. "While I was trying to entice him, your four birds flew back down right over my head." I noted. "I know, that's why I did not shoot." We went back down to the blind and collected the decoys and headed to his little brother's game. I'll probably be thinking of the trout again tonight.

Back Channels

2011-10-01T15:43:00.000-06:00

Today was opening day for waterfowl. It was in the mid-seventies and a blue bird sky. WD and I canoed into some back channels in the early morning while still under the stars.My hunting partner made an impromptu decision while we were driving back from Helena last night to support his club today by joining their float during the university's homecoming parade. There will be many other duck hunting opportunities. It was also a shade lonely at this year's banquet too without the old greenwinger, who had understandably opted for his first high school dance instead. It was nice to catch up with some of the old duck chums.

Things are moving along fast these days. Other younger rascals are in the game, too. One will complete her hunter education next week. However, hoops loom large. I never thought I'd write or utter those words. Life is full of surprises however and our community has many amazing people who truly take an interest in Missoula's youth.
Wen and I shared some jerky and watched the sun rise. Birds were occasionally flying our way, being pressured by the guns on the main river. The geese were flying high, significantly out of range and safe. Getting the ducks to decoy was a challenge which during the opener is not usually the case. Again, nervousness from the other hunters on the river coupled with someone's out of tune calling.

We shared the section with a large trout. He was surprisingly content right under our noses, owning the hole. Next time the rod comes along as well.

We managed to jump shoot a teal. This was a second effort at another small flight of birds that did not decoy, choosing to fly a bit further upstream to land. Someone tried to ruin the parade on a few initial sneaks, dancing happily through changing fall cover and over the raised bank's edge crashing into the water and sending unseen birds into the sky well out of range. Early season exuberance.

"Once More unto the Breach"

2011-09-18T19:54:00.017-06:00

Otra vez. Thad and I decided to once more head into the Gorge prior to the snow flying. Planning for things has gotten plenty complicated given all of the other activities going on. Finally we decided on a date a few weeks ago and hoped for the best from mother nature. Today, Todd and I watched the little man's soccer game. It was a blustery afternoon, typical for mid-September. Some of the parents were wrapped in blankets as the wind blew across the field. Most simply wore shorts and a shell. It was not that cold, but windy. Following the game, Todd and I drove with the raft to a grocery store to get one last cup of coffee. Then it was off to meet Thad, Neil, Bill and Brittney.

Cyr was quiet. No buses filled with young guided rafters from Spokane or Coeur d'Alene. No clogged put-in with officials directing traffic and maintaining their tempers. No difficulty finding a place to park the trailer after the shuttle down first to the take out at Tarkio. Cloudy skies, but no rain and limited wind. Fall in Montana. Perfect.

Finally, the river is calm. Running substantially lower than our first jaunt down not too long ago (3500 versus 7500 according to Thad). Perfect for a first time float along this section for three in our party, including Todd who shared the bow with Bill. There was one party with inflatable kayaks that put in at about the same time we did. We were wearing shells and some of our party had on whitewater dry pants. I wore a swim suit, shell and life jacket. Although I brought along my cowboy fishing lid I use for sunny days, I left it in the truck, deciding the simple 'bowl lid tonight may make more sense due to the wind.

"Are those eagles?" Someone asked looking high into the sky at two large birds circling below the clouds. They were too large to be ravens, but we were not sure if they were eagles. Too distant. "Maybe turkey buzzards." Thad said. The bow dipped through the first little burst of whitewater and Bill and Todd got wet. Neil mentioned something about happiness having Bill in front of him to block the water, realizing what was on the way.

Bill and Thad told some funny stories about their run yesterday in the local Mudder obstacle trail foot race. Both had good races. Something about monkey bars in one section and also something about a skinny rope in another? They agreed that it was a good time.

Bill is doing the erg pull with us this month. Like Todd, he had done a 10k meter row prior to the float. One could tell quickly Thad and Bill were good friends. "Bill, whoa!" Thad yapped over the whitewater a few times next to me from the stern. Clearly an experienced and strong waterman, Bill occasionally was too strong up front on the port side in a few sections for Thaddy to balance out from the opposite starboard stern. Opposite Thad in the back of the raft I was laughing silently. Perfect addition for the ergometer fun, Bill.

50Eggs was chatting with Thad about a past ski trip to Fernie. There was also a discussion about a nagging back injury interfering with the upcoming season for our friend as well. Morphine was mentioned. Someone brought up steelhead season, also right around the corner. I asked Brit and Neil how the steaks had been these past few seasons at an old favorite fisherman's motel near Orifino. We had in the past always bought and later cooked a steak on a community grill at the hotel. Usually with fingers still numb, frozen from a cold day along the bank of the Clearwater. Evidently, things recently have changed a tad. They always do.

Tumbleweed and Fang were not big productions tonight. We got wet, but whittled our way down through the rocks and channels no problem. Brittney and Neil, from mid raft, kept us steady as she goes. Todd and Bill observing any trouble down river. Our laughing photographer was not at his post atop the large rock where he was last perched observing and photographing the tourists. It was spotty sunshine and getting late. Maybe six or so.

Not too far below the mouth of Fish Creek we observed five otters playing along the bank. They finally one by one got into the river, swimming away upstream along the bank. The leader was making a crunching sound, head out of the water eying us while chewing with his back facing upstream. Maybe on a crayfish. Bill had brought a large crayfish over to us he'd found along a beach we stopped to eat a snack at just above the Triple Bridges area. "Would be good bait." He said as it swam backwards back into the deeper water.

There are plenty of rocks sticking up this time of year, but we managed to miss them - with the exception of one little one above the take out. Todd seemed about to doze off at that point, staying quiet with water drops flowing down along the goose bumps on his legs.

It was disappointing seeing an old favorite stretch for fishing is now posted. Sad. Bill had mentioned slipping and losing a rod in the same area while fishing many years back. There were quite a few rises this evening. Thad threatened mutiny if I brought a rod next time, but I'm pretty sure I will. Hell, I might even put the frame back on the raft for that matter. Tonight would have been perfect.

Brittney warmed us all up with some excellent hot tea at the take out. Pure joy. I gave Bill a lid. Rafting season had ended. LR never once opened his eyes driving home.

FTC

2011-09-11T15:59:00.008-06:00

We'll be d0ing the FTC again this year. It's an open team. It's for fun. Starts on the 15th and ends on 10/15.

Through 10/6 - Rounding the Bend: (Thaddy pulled his first n/s 10,000! Woo Hoo!)

TJ: 48,790
ET: 0
TT: 16,174
PW: 47,684
PT: 4,755
BC: 57,765
GT: 179,582

Total: 354,750

Grouse & Apples

2011-09-08T18:55:00.004-06:00

Grouse Camp

2011-09-04T18:31:00.033-06:00

"You better change those tires when ski season rolls around." We were walking out of the breakfast joint, and someone was looking at the tires on my truck, parked next to his. I don't recall my response, but knew he was right. Last fall I reluctantly had to get new studded tires. They are now a fortune, new tires. An imported item, and petroleum based. Too many Montana ski trips; however, rather than let go of the replaced studded tires, I decided to have the studs removed and see if the tires could make it through this summer. My regular all season jobs are larger and heavier than the de-studded snow tires, and thus get poorer mileage. So after ski season, this past spring, I put on the old snow tires. Of course, at one point, I was pretty certain spring would never come! I think some folks were still skiing in July.Saturday, LR had a futbol game. I think the rascals were still coming down from last weekend's canoe trip as well, so I decided after the game to do a one nighter in another old haunt pursuing Blues and Franklins with WD. Maybe even make it what is somewhat common in these parts, a "blast and cast" with some bird hunting in the morning followed by trout fishing. The mornings are cool and the nights are getting darker sooner. At last, harvest.

As I (re)type this morning, editing and trying to recollect, a small wild hare is playing in the front yard under a pine. New first. Something about golf today was mentioned late last night.
Twenty something to seven, almost halftime. The AM reception was fading fast. I had turned off of the lower drainage and was now making my way up a jagged jeep trail Saturday at dusk. I also had just photoed a blurry coyote playing in a field. Montana was at Tennessee and had just scored prior to the end of the first half. Hard to believe we were playing Tennessee. I was cheering after the score, but as soon as I did reception was gone.Driving east, I topped out at a junction where one can turn north and in a couple of miles, be on a mountain top, or head south following the drainage along from the center of a lengthy ridge. I drove over to the peak to see if I could catch the sunset. There were two bow hunter camps set up not too far below the locked gate. Wen and I got out and walked through what was once a lookout and through some old log cabin structures."It's going to be 28 degrees tonight" my wife had warned me prior to my departure. There are some fires in the region so the sunset we observed was nothing short of spectacular, looking north into the long distant Missions resting below a red and orange glow. Once the sun was down, the chill was on. There was very little wind, though.Following the sunset, we headed south along the ridge to our camp site. No one was in the area. We had eaten prior to departure, so there was no need to do some cooking in the dark. We got the camp set up, did some reading while drinking tea. I had picked up the recent edition of the Drake and enjoyed a passage on steelheading written by a local author. I was in my old tent, which carries many great mountain bike race memories. I was glad this trip I did not forget my pillow, and quickly conked out. For some reason, Sunday morning I was not hungry, opting not to build a fire and to just drink robust, scalding black coffee. Wen had a bowl of dry dog food and missed the children's pancakes. It was cold, but we noticed no frost on the tent. We quickly took down camp. The coffee kept the fingers warm. Following a brief drive to a trailhead, Wen and I started humping into a beautiful area with cover for the birds. There is a good trail system in the area, taking hikers to many points, including one back down to the drainage. Also, we noted numerous new and undisturbed (read not shot or pulled down) trail signs. Unlike grouse hunting in the east with a pointer through heavy cover usually along the bottoms, hunting mountain grouse is usually more successful simply walking abandoned, kelly humped roads. The ruffed grouse are found more often along streams and creeks down low. Wen and I first clicked down to a spring, prior to the main hike up the mountain. It was so quiet, peaceful. Unlike the crows and squirrels that created a racket getting me finally out of my sleeping bag earlier in the morning. Coming back up from the spring, I shot the first male franklin that was spotted from a distance below some red huckleberries (grouse whortleberries) where the trail again met the road. The dog recalled one of her ends, and joyously gathered up the bird. There were also wild raspberries along the old road. I had to again consult Wild Berries of the West (Derig and Fuller, 2001) to take a shot at figuring out the whortleberries. Still not sure on that one. But, later gutting the birds, these red berries were what they were eating. I admired the quarry and then headed up the road slowly and alert. I brought along a model 1100 twenty gage. It was not my shotgun. Someone had asked me to check it for her to make sure it was still functioning. As I had mentioned when I took it a while back, it was fine. A very nice, light shotgun. Perfect for the day.

As we walked up through the area, the weather turned to sun and heat. I shed layers at the top and took a seat on an old log. We saw no birds. I was thinking about another road on the east side, above where there had been a burn similar to our present area.

Slowly walking back down however, the dog flushed a small covey of spruce (franklin) grouse below the road. I very luckily knocked down two hens which Wen found and brought to me. We were now ready to head to the bottom in the pickup to go fishing. Three mountain grouse are the limit this year.

Walking back to the truck we came across a large covey of more spruce grouse. The birds flew up into the surrounding pine, sitting in the branches teasing the dog. I took numerous shots (with the camera), including one of a cock nervously flying out of Dodge. Further down the road, almost to the vehicle, Wen finally flushed a large blue grouse. The bird was noticeably larger, and made the normal loud thrumming upon flight which has startled many a deer and elk hunter. I watched the bird fly off below the road into the cover of many trees. Wen looked at me with the expression, "What were you waiting for?"Driving out, I was almost to the bottom. On a final switchback there were two mountain bikers sitting along the road in the shade. I had the window down and while driving around the turn, said "hello." The road has a lot of loose rock sections. Large, sharp rocks. A few hundred yards from the bottom, I heard the front right tire go. A bit louder than Red's. I found a small turn in the road, above what I believe is an abandoned mine. I crept off to the right, tucking quietly into the small bend, and changed the tire. While working on it, the cyclists sped by not noticing and probably thinking I was off exploring the area somewhere. It only took about a half an hour, but I quietly laughed at myself during the process and decided to cancel the fishing.

Sunset from Point Six

2011-08-30T22:01:00.003-06:00

Tumbleweed

2011-08-30T13:17:00.002-06:00

As described in Sardines and Green Tea, Thad and I had a little trip through Tumbleweed a while back. Well, one of us had a little swim. We decided to spring for MT River Photography's work.

Into Notellum

2011-08-28T20:02:00.020-06:00

It seems to have only begun yesterday, but summer's over. Tomorrow, LR is a freshman entering a new world. His orientation, not long ago while still in eighth grade, included the resource officer giving the incoming freshman a warning, for lack of a better word, about the potential perils ahead.New liberties equal new responsibilities. We'll see how things come together. It could be fourth generation at a military academy in Indiana too, I guess. Goodbye mountains. I can still see Schultz's expression, "You're going where?" Not too crazy about seeing part of his work go to the corn fields, I believe. Funny what we remember. A hell of a difference probably in the plebeian system and LR's upcoming freshman year in Missoula. We're Spartans now.Friday, after work, someone had a slumber party to celebrate her big day - which is close at hand. So, Saturday, we took LRjr and decided late that afternoon to wrap up the summer season in an old favorite local spot. Not too well know, and excellent. Another nineties hangout while a student at UM. It meant a hike (and portage) into the lake with the Rogue (canoe), WD, tent, and gear. I'd never taken a canoe or float tube in. After numerous trips, we finished setting up camp in the dark. We were pleased to note no one else was in the area.At this point, we did a canoe junket that I will never forget. Two boys, one Lab, and the perimeter of an alpine lake at dusk, in complete silence. No casting, no wind, no sound. Smooth paddling from a sole paddler in the stern, complete solitude. Mr. Moore's wilderness.

Then, melted chocolate and gram crackers with marshmallows were the order of the evening. Following the standard camping fare of hot dogs of course.

LR proceeded to educate us on the constellations, which he had learned about at a local summer camp near Great Falls. We looked up and listened to his descriptions, but his little brother and I could only see the Big and Little Dippers and, other than that, ten million stars and maybe the Milky Way or something. Clear as a bell it was. Spectacular.

There was no way I was making another trip back to the vehicle for WD's crate, so when she refused to sleep out of the tent (under the fly - getting up and constantly wandering around - generally lion bait), she won and proceeded to sleep on my head off and on while in the tent. This was a new first (and last), shedding still - everywhere. I felt guilty as the crate and blanket have become WD's generally accepted security for nighttime happiness when on the road. There were also plenty of fresh lion tracks around to add to my sympathy, knowing I'd never get over that if it were to occur.Sunday morning could not have come quickly enough. Up most of the night and morning with Wen's snoring, I promptly escorted her to the exit. Dogs snoring, unbelievable. Not sure how the boys slept through it, but they seemed to have no problem doing so.

I put on a pot of coffee and then told LR I was making an early morning trip down to the Toyo to gather additional breakfast and lunch items. Like the crate, I had decided to leave all food (including the cooler) at the pickup. It was another hike, but it felt good in the dawn's cool air. There was smoke around from a local fire. Three Gray Jays were in the camp when I got back, but there was no game hanging for the Jays.

The first order of the morning was coffee, which I happily consumed. The second order was pancakes which hit the spot for all of us, including WD who always seems to weasel her way into some of our breakfast when on these camping trips. The boys caught quite a few fish. Lake cutts. They've always been abundant here. Stocked I suppose. Plenty of fun to catch.It was a hot day. The sun was bright and no clouds in the sky. The boys stripped down to their shorts and went swimming. At one point, I paddled over to lilies and took a photo of their yellow flowers. While there, a cutthroat swam below me and almost under the stern. I reacted by lowering a tan stimulator (that happened to be tied on at the moment) from the line with my hand quickly to the water literally right next to me. The fish rose and actually hit the fly. I lifted the line with my hand like a crab pot, not with the rod, boating the trout. A new first. "Did you see that?" I yelled to the kids. The commotion echoed across the surrounding environment, mostly quickly rising alpine rock. The boys were playing along a bank, oblivious. I was in shock. I guess most high country lake fly anglers have experienced this sort of thing. These trout can be pretty stupid, hitting anything/everything that causes motion on the water. This still was pretty odd though. I was so excited, and feeling a touch guilty, that I let this one go. Hope he learned something.

Point Six mtb Fundraiser

2011-08-27T08:34:00.008-06:00

50 Eggs mentioned to us over our usual Friday coffee a quickly approaching fundraiser. Bike the Bowl supports local charity M.M.A. The ride is the 11th and the sign up deadline is the 6th (Sept.).

Riders will go up the Beargrass Highway and then continue to the radar station at Point Six and finish coming down the same route to a party at the Lodge. Sounds like a good time! Info at: Bike the Bowl

Down to Whitaker Bridge

2011-08-25T23:02:00.003-06:00

Finally got the Rogue on the river. Did a quickie tonight down to Whitaker. That first rapid after the put in is always a good time in the canoe. Someone in the bow got bounced around a bit. We saw one golden eagle that came off of the bank from a complete standstill. It startled us as we were looking for rocks along the way. The river is starting to finally get a bit bony. I always forget how large eagles wing spans are. Also, we watched one bald eagle quietly observing us as we drifted below.

The Sugar provided the shuttle tonight. I still love that bike. Glad it still has some life in it with a recently replaced chainstay. WD got to do a little running during the shuttle back to the truck.

Otherwise, pretty quiet. The exception being the large orange glow across the river from the empty mill east of town. There is also a full camp set up just off of the highway which from a slight distance looks like a small MASH unit, with large lights above the operation. How fortunate we've been to have not had many fires over the last few summers.

the Ducks

2011-08-24T07:38:00.003-06:00

Looks like the banquet is early this year for the ducks, Sept. 24. Info. at DU.

Sardines and Green Tea

2011-08-21T18:39:00.020-06:00

Friday after work we once again had the good fortune to embark on another weekend trip to Georgetown, staying at our friend's Fish Camp. There have been very few adventures this summer. No canoe trips (yet) down clear streams and honestly no significant camping thus far either. Other activities have been at the forefront. Well, I should mention that there was an excellent Sunday afternoon a few weeks back when Thad and I attacked Tumbleweed below Three Bridges through the Gorge while straddling the starboard and port portions of the Odyssey raft. I took a little dip on that one getting the "lower section" of the wave (complete submersion of my half as we cut in); yet, keeping on the Wayfarer shades and Bridger lid upon surfacing, I gave a jubilant thumbs up (with the free hand, the other still grasping the paddle) to the regular photographer standing on the rock laughing his tail off with me and photographing the whole episode. "Go to my web page, I got the whole thing." He yelled as I floated by laughing. "When I saw the thumb up, I knew you were ok." Thad said prior to our going into Fang, the next big wave. Still looking back on that one, I'm not sure how Thad swung so quickly back into the center of the raft, keeping her upright, after my catapult - but, he did.As one can see, my camera survived my swimming in the drink that Sunday afternoon. I had it in the left life vest pocket in a sandwich bag which as it turned out had a small hole. The camera was drenched, but somehow I managed to luckily dry it in the hot sun for the remainder of the day. The phone's sandwich bag, in the other pocket, stayed tight. Thank you Glad.At any rate, back to this weekend. Friday night we caught numerous fish, but probably missed more. We had two canoes this trip and managed to keep them both upright while fishing late into the evening at the lake (second lake in the distance in the above photo, below the ski hill). I decided after fishing that evening to go ahead and do a morning hike into the Pintlers. Perhaps fly fish as well. Everyone else in the party wanted to sleep in and then canoe and fish out the back door. So, WD and I got up early and took off on a little adventure of our own.We watched fish rise as we hiked a trail going in along one of the lower lakes. Folks were camped near the far end, just below a wall of rock (top photo). I started up some switchbacks, thinking how nice this would be on Red. WD had her bear bell on. A bell that formally belonged to Rebel, a Llewellin Setter I hunted with years ago. Not too far up the trail, in a shaded section, a Boston Terrier came fearlessly trucking down the trail at us with his master yelling and running quickly behind. WD was on a small lead which ended in a choke loop if I decided to apply pressure. The Terrier had a lead on as well, just no human attached to the other end. I knew what was going to occur next. The little black and white dog proceeded to grab Wen's lip and shake, not wanting to let go as I hoisted Wen up with her lead so she would not chomp the little whipper snapper for breakfast. Not an easy situation. The Terrier's master finally arrived, winded, clutching up the little fighter. "I'm so sorry." He said. "It's ok. I understand. My mom has had Terriers and while they are ferocious little rat dogs attacking anything, they often do not exercise good judgement." I calmly replied. I was thinking of one while growing up which thought he could whip his Bouvier counterpart when the roughhousing got a little overboard. Pepper had class though, that was for sure.

I continued briefly up the trail, while the man stayed below scolding his Boston. "He's really gotten so much better." The man's other half not too much further up the trail assured WD and me as we went on by. "Sure." I thought to myself. WenDawg was a bit out of sorts for the initial part of the the climb to the first pass, exercising an understandable caution with anyone else we encountered.Rather than click over to where everyone else was hiking, towards Goat Peak, we made the decision to avoid the crowd and continue climbing up along loose scree piles to the top of the wall, just under 10,000 feet (again top photo). We had a grand view of the area, looking into the Big Hole, the E. Fork, numerous lakes, and Howe and Evans. We found ourselves among friends. Friends with large horns crossing snow fields and just generally hanging out. No concerns whatsoever. We decided at that point to not fish during this excursion, but to save that for later on the lake in the canoes.WD and I decided to have sardines and green tea, enjoying mountain top scenery. Skiing was on my mind. We also taste hunting season in the crisp morning air.

Tuesday

2011-08-02T22:07:00.010-06:00

I took my best friend to the river tonight. Right after we dropped the boys off to their practice. She's been wondering why we have not been spending more time fishing lately.

I guess we did enjoy an afternoon canoe excursion Saturday on the lower section of the Bitterroot. One of our favorite old snags is officially gone. Taken to Who knows where? with the recent high waters. Probably Astoria. The lower 'root has been slow on top. At least it has for us. So, tonight we headed elsewhere.

The temps were in the lower eighties late today. We hiked down to the river as a brief storm blew in. As I placed the water bottle in the river to stay cool, I was thinking lightning may not be the ideal situation. The storm's cloud cover, however, briefly brought trout to the surface among the water drops' rings. There were small flies, emergers, coming to or staying just under the surface. The Adams I was using was too large, maybe a twelve. I switched to a parachute fourteen or sixteen. Still, the fish would not take. Then, the sun came back out and everything shut down.

The dog and I played leap frog up the river. Somehow, she stayed out of the main sections, playing with chipmunks on the bank while I tried different patterns. I finally had success with a stimulator along a stretch that is usually good with hoppers. A nice cutthroat. The fish fought hard against the four weight I'd brought along this evening. As we continued up stream, it became quiet again. Except for the birds. I've heard reports that the waterfowl are abundant this year and their numbers were obvious along this walk. Many geese, mergansers and a few greenheads here and there. Encouraging. I'm looking forward to waterfowl season.

Across the river from a nice braid of water, a raft pulled to the bank. The evening sun was bright and glaring off of the water. I could not see well, but I waived to one of the two men. He wore a red Hawaiian style short sleeved shirt with large yellow or white flowers. They were nymph fishing a shallow section.

The condition of the river is starting finally to come together. Still up a small amount and a shade off color, but close to about right. It was getting late and there were some Caddis coming off. I had also noticed on the bank what I thought was a cicada. There was a lot of chirping. Finally, the hoppers are out as well. I caught a few more smaller fish on the attractor pattern. One rainbow and another cutthroat.

I decided to walk along the rocks on the bank above the regular section to an area I had not fished. Casting a caddis pattern into the ripples below a rock, as the sun was setting, a beautiful fish snapped up the imitation and went under again. The light rod almost could not handle the cutt in the fast, deep water. A very nice catch for the evening. Someone's snout snuck into the photo.

Missoula's 4-H and FFA Livestock Sale

2011-07-29T08:26:00.005-06:00

The 4-H & FFA Livestock Sale this year is the 13th of August at the Fair. Information at: 4-H

Come on out and support the kids and the community by teaming up with friends and buying an animal. If one wants to make a donation, purchases can be donated to a local food pantry.

Beautiful Day

2011-07-24T09:26:00.004-06:00

Missoula lucked out with the weather yesterday. It was beautiful. We made it out and enjoyed the race. Great job to all of the folks putting it on. A big congrats to the Schultz family on getting it done in front of the home town crowd! Awesome.

Tomorrow's Garden City Mountain Bike Celebration

2011-07-22T08:02:00.006-06:00

Tomorrow will be (what some might say) Missoula's most significant mountain bike cross country race event to date. Many of the greatest mountain bike racers in the country at 6:00 PM will do laps around a new snappy, technical course in Marshall Canyon: Missoula-XC

Former mtb-XC olympian JHK will battle local great Schultz (who was second last week at nationals in Sun Valley). Another regional adventurer and pro favorite, Craig, is here as well. There are thirty eight pro men signed up for tomorrow night. Beyond the local Schultz brothers, we will also be cheering for Montana pros Curry (Bozeman), and Cooke, Grove, and Parsons (all out of Whitefish/Kalispell).

There are twenty one elite/pro women signed up, including Irmiger and Davison. We will be cheering for locals Blasi (the Zepher) and Curry (Bozeman).

Juniors go off at 9:00 tomorrow morning followed by experts at noon. We will race in these events. Here is the link to the full Schedule. There will be additional time to register today at Marshall from 12:00 to 9:00 PM. So it's not too late to sign up for this event.

Come on out and support mountain biking! Beer, food and music will be on hand. A big thanks goes out to ALL of the event's organizers!!!

Respite

2011-07-17T20:05:00.007-06:00

You know, sometimes I wish people was like dogs, Luke. Eventually the bitch has to let the pups go. Luke's mom Arletta was in the back of the pick-up, lying in a makeshift bed, smoking while telling her wayward son goodbye. I was flipping through the stations Saturday, trying to find the British golf tournament while reading the financial news online. Instead, I landed on an old favorite. Cool Hand Luke. Now the kids know why one of our volunteer patroller friends is sometimes called 50 Eggs.

Last week I read some of the latter sections of Thomas McGuane's work The Longest Silence (Random House, 1999), thinking of a section on Thoreau and Walton. I wandered through a section on the Big Hole and fishing with one of the author's friends Mike. The chapter on Sons is excellent. A great bonefishing story. I was happy the book had been brought back to my attention. The section on Haig-Brown is really well written - convincing. I found a compilation of all of the Seasons in one work, which is on the way. In part, the Thomas Hardy comments sold me. I keep a copy of the The Return of the Native on the book shelf next to the bed. Still highlighted from my old Indiana high school days.

Today after the Homestake race, I went to the lower section of Rock Creek along the way home. "The creek's clear and fishable, but there are no bugs hatching at the moment." My friend who dropped off the Skwala's earlier this year had stated on the phone recently. "Usually there are birds all above my place." He was right. This afternoon, I could not get a rise casting the usual dries. There were very few bugs in the air. So, I went for the Prince option. Nada. Then, the Hare's Ear. Nada. Remind me not to buy white strike indicators, by the way, as they blend in nicely with the surface breaking water. Especially on a sunny afternoon. So, I waded, taking a bath. Still covered in mud from the lower sections of the course. It felt great.

Homestake

2011-07-17T18:48:00.005-06:00

I woke up this morning and found the above on my wallet. Pretty cool. It was going to be a solo trip back to Homestake for today's XC, but I took his Livestrong bracelet and wore it throughout the day. The kids have been enjoying a lot of futbol with a second week of camp starting tomorrow. The high school has also been putting on a speed and agility camp in the mornings. Busy times.

"Can you drive my wife up to the Lodge? We ran out of gas." A man asked as I was driving up the dirt road to the Lodge. "He had to see if he could make 1000 miles." She informed me. Something about a 25 gallon diesel tank in the Subaru. He got his 1000, but was short of the Lodge. Not sure if Chris, the owner, had some diesel or no?

Two Saturday's ago I was sitting in the Rattlesnake parking lot, not really able to walk. On the fifth lap around a fun loop on what was a very hot afternoon, I dehydrated. My legs severely cramped - also, re-aggravating an injury I've been dealing with off and on for over a year. It was a stupid situation to be in. I was done. My friend Rick ironically came riding through the p-lot with his girlfriend while I was sitting next to the toyo. "I over did it." I told them. "Rest up." he said. I told my friends over coffee I was now getting out the canoe.

Both of the subsequent Wednesday nights I avoided the beer league in town, and only got on the bike again Thursday last. This week I've been lying on my back, toes facing the ceiling, placing a rope around my foot and pulling one leg at a time (while still on the floor) back to the side with the rope stretching the adductors (groin). Read about it in a book. Also, using a rubber strap tied to the house at one end and my foot on the other, stretching the same muscle swinging the leg in and out. Friday, things were less noticeable, though the still there. I decided last minute to get back in the saddle again and go to Butte to see how things would hold together and then fish coming home.

The goal was simple. Don't cramp. Don't bonk. Spin. Saturday afternoon I drank a lot more water than usual and ate a bushel of bananas. Sunday morning (today) I again drank a ton of water and ate more bananas with the plain flap jacks for breakfast.

There were three experts (all with GAS) at the race, and myself. Very quiet. I guess folks are either at Nationals at Sun Valley, or are tapering for this coming Saturday's race (the Pro XC Nats here in town). We were to do three seven mile laps. It was a hot morning with the race starting at eleven. Chris debriefed us on the course and how the loop had been extended. John gave us one minute, ten seconds and then sent us.

Two of the GAS racers took off and I stayed for part of the first lap with the third, eventually pulling away. I sipped electrolytes throughout the laps riding the hardtail - the Sur. It still has Max's stickers and odd ball colored brake housing. I love that bike. However, riding through the bumpy indented grass in the swamp brought back nightmares of the same section during a past eight hours of labor. I laughed about it with another racer as we bounced along.

Well, the excess fluids and potassium helped and I finished the race without things breaking down. I went around to the side of the back porch, where Chris was grilling burgers and brats for everyone. I visited with Warren and Chris, thanking them for the fun day. Then, I went and visited with the official, John, who was still sitting in the finish area, wearing his large sun blocking hat and waiting on a few more racers. "Thanks John. It was a fun race. " I said shaking his hand. "Aren't you staying for the awards?" He asked. "I'm going fishing." I said, thinking about how nice the creek would feel on my legs. It was maybe ninety degrees.

Farmer's Mkt. Flowers

2011-07-16T12:05:00.003-06:00

Learning to Hunt

2011-07-10T20:33:00.018-06:00

The rivers in town were still on the way down to reasonable levels to safely fish, so I decided to take Todd to a local historical battlefield to hunt for brook trout. We decided to hike into the tribs and look for openings where we could find them. Someone had never seen nor caught a brook trout, so observing
the magnificent colors was the first order of the day.
Learning how to hunt for these fish in very tight quarters was a significant part of the program. Lots of lost flies and snapped tippets. There were no grayling caught. No bulls seen. The brookies were abundant, however. So were mayflies and golden stones. The mosquitoes were horrid. The temp. in the high '80s.
This was bear country for sure. We saw one small
black bear not too far from camp. Brook trout and chicken were the table fare. With a dash
of pepper and baked beans too. Another good day in the field. Now, how to get my hat back?

A Work on the Brook Trout

2011-07-10T18:30:00.006-06:00

There do not seem to be too many western fly fishermen enthused about Salvelinus fontinalis. Brook trout, however, are a beautiful fish with a long and colorful history in North America. The species is also quite tasty. After visiting a local used book store, I came across a small stack of new books, including Brook Trout by Nick Karas (Lyons Press, 2002). Karas, a biologist and NY outdoors writer, dedicates the work "to the return of the native." Karas takes readers from the brook trout's distant past up to recent issues facing the species (including, for example, the encroachment of stocked rainbows). The initial chapter on Daniel Webster's great catch and the subsequent Currier print capturing the moment was an entertaining read - a great American fish tale if there ever was one.

I would categorize this book as a thorough reference work. It covers many waters, including Canadian rivers, the Allegheny area and Appalachia. On Montana, Most western fisheries people view brook trout as a nuisance and a threat to the native species... However, some anglers do prefer brook trout and like fishing for them. Maybe it's the gourmet in them. pp. 403.

Brook Trout is an excellent work on the charr that somehow continues endure.

An Old Axe

2011-07-10T17:48:00.003-06:00

I have owned this axe many years. I found it in the Montana woods, rotting at a quiet, empty camp site on top of a mountain. Long abandoned, forgotten. Recently I placed it in my one ton Record vice and sharpened the blade with a file. In the process, I cleaned it with bicycle chain solvent and then with a cloth applied some dry lube. At our camp site this morning, I had my son look at it closely to see the irony of where it was built. "No way!" he said. It needs a new handle. Sharpens well enough to slice paper.

How Much Fun Was That?!!

2011-06-30T08:49:00.007-06:00

It was the first night for the new local XC series in MSO. Todd mustered up the courage to join me in partaking in the new course. His first time on a mtb in a long while. I dusted off the old Sugar fully and pumped up the tires. Lighter than his Marlin and an extra shock to boot. First we had to get a new pair of shoes for the kid, now running a whopping size 12, two or three larger than this time last year! Well, at least we could simply swap out the cleat's from the old pair. Kids feet....

It was raining, but no lightning. Todd decided to try for two laps. There were folks from many parts of western MT in attendance. Missoula had a huge showing of racers/riders from all walks on hand. Not sure, maybe it was the draw of the Cold Smoke, or the hot dogs that were available post race, but there were many folks in attendance. Great to see. Also, many spectators. The course is very accessible for fans, which is nice.

It was literally a shotgun start. The first pull there was a "click." Laughter. Then, a "boom!" The young guns exploded up and under the new bridge and into the woods. A friend had recommended correctly we at least take the first lap easy to learn the descents. That was good advice. I twice went off the track, once looking at a tree almost in the switchback, rather than looking around the bend and following out the turn. I'd say the course is quite technical and speedy. The Pros, when they arrive, are going to love it. It will be fun to watch.

We had a ball and are looking forward to the next opportunity to ride the course again. Thanks to everyone putting it on!

Cory

2011-06-26T17:44:00.015-06:00

Many folks may have read a post or two of mine alluding to my friend Ed Stalling (or "Mr. Cymbals"). Outside of his normal occupation, Ed plays the drums, is an avid outdoorsman and of course is a regular mountain biker in our community. Some readers may recall last year when Ed, Aaron (another Missoula outdoor athlete) and I rode together over Sheep Mtn. in the middle of the night during an unofficial local event.

Ed's nephew Cory (riding above) is sick. Cory has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, a disease that results in progressive loss of strength. "We have 'Cory Night' once a week at my house." Ed says. "We got Cory a specially designed bike that he can step through. He can't lift his legs very far. I ride along side of him and push him up the slightest hills just to see his smile as we descend. I try to forget that he will be wheelchair bound before I know it. These bike descents will be our memory." Ed notes.

Ed and his wife Laurie raise funds for Duchenne through Parent Project MD, an organization providing funding for research on Duchenne. Once again this year, "Cory's Champions" (family and friends) will arrive in Missoula for the July running of the annual marathon. If you would like to support Team Cory's Champions, you may do so at - Run for Our Sons.

"Running the race is simple, it's the reality that we are running to save my son's life that hurts." Chris Stalling (Cory's mother).

Supporting Local Events

2011-06-24T08:27:00.003-06:00

I see in addition to the great race that is headed our way in July -Msla XC, there is also a kid's mtb camp being held as well - Kid's Camp. There will also be a weekly mtb series starting Wednesday night next week. These are all great opportunities and another way to support local mountain biking. A big thanks to Shaun, Jed and everyone else responsible for bringing these events to Marshall and our community!

Wilson Creek - Nampa

2011-06-21T21:06:00.002-06:00

Drool...

2011-06-19T17:44:00.006-06:00

Attended a classic car show today. Among old Mustangs and Thunderbirds sat the above beauty. A 1971 International Scout. My first old beater. I had a Scout II that roamed much of West Virginia. Heavy, coupled with a 302 that went anywhere. The perfect hunting rig. Not the best outfit for roaming the Beantown during college, however. Soon the mirrors were torn off and the undercarriage rusted out due to the city salting the streets during the winter. Managed to take a few trips into NH and VT to the ski hills prior to her demise though. Wish there was something like this still around with decent mileage. One can only wish.

Along the Salmon

2011-06-18T20:09:00.003-06:00

Racing is Training - Ouch!

2011-06-18T18:37:00.027-06:00

I decided to attend this race when I found out it happened to be the same weekend that LR happened to be headed to Boise for other matters. It's been a while since the last race, let alone the last full on XC ('09). I knew it would be a suffer fest, but I was going to be there anyway, so I signed up and looked at it as a training race, C level, first of the year. After all, the best way to train is to race. As a matter of fact, given the work and extracurricular schedule lately, that may be the only way, actually.My wife, three children and I spent Friday night in Hailey after a few mandatory stops. The first stop was to buy a fishing licence in Stanley on the way down for LR. Being 14, as I mentioned in a prior post, he needed one. This time, however, we had his ss number to complete the deal. Driving into Stanley is always a beautiful site. The Sawtooth's looming in near distance. Snow covered still and as jagged as ever. At some point, there will have to be some skiing in the Sawtooths for us. The draw is too powerful.Rather than fish the headwaters of the Salmon, we continued on past the three antelope we observed in the upper Salmon, dropped over the pass and into the Galena valley. Home of the upper Big Wood river. There were a few folks parked at the Galena Lodge riding their mountain bikes in the area or hiking. It's a bummer the Grinder is the same weekend as the cross country race in Missoula.

The weather was cool and overcast, but not raining. LR got out his rod and drifted prince and hare's ear nymphs into the narrow upper drainage. It was up but still clear. The young birthday boy was near at hand with the net sometimes watching his older brother, just in case. The Galena area peaks were above us while we fished, snow covered still. LR raised a rainbow finally but did not quite set the hook and off it went followed by an understandable, "damn!" The excitement was welcome. Two were in the car asleep waiting on the fisherman to wrap it up so we could head down to Ketchum. So that was the next stretch.There was no way we were not going to first pay our respects to Papa prior to getting a burger at Lefty's. So, we went to the cemetery to see what changes, if any, had transpired at Mr. Hemingway's grave site. Cigars, booze and coins from well wishers were still at hand. Long live Ernest. Saturday morning we had about a fifty minute drive to Soldier Mountain. Not too far above Fairfield, ID. I've never skied there - or, cycled for that matter. I had the whole crew along for this one. I felt pretty well, trying to remember the old routine, and not sure what to expect. A friend in Missou had recalled riding to the top of the world and then down to the desert. That was his recollection. Still pretty accurate. One can do that in Idaho. Pretty epic country.I took Red down. My fully with tubeless endurance tires, though the rear had a tube due to a leak in the tire. It was a heavier rig than the Sur, but I've come to trust it on the down. Kinda fun actually. So I brought it for this one. I visited a bit with a friend or two I had not seen in quite a while. Things really don't seem to change much. Although, we seem busier lately. This certain applies to me anyway.

I asked the promoter about the course and he explained the cat ones would go off with the pros and do an immediate left shortly up the road after the start to complete an audience lap back through the start area and then head back through for a fourteen mile loop that would be completed twice. The larger loop would climb the mountain and there were numerous "creek crossings." The Soldier Mountain patrollers were in the dangerous sections and were volunteering for the day. I was informed (as was everyone during the pre race meeting) that one creek section would for sure be wade only and carry the bike. It was suggested to face upstream, carrying the bike on the left shoulder maintaining balance in knee deep fast flowing icy cold run off.

I drank a fair amount of water Friday and was pounding water the morning prior to the start. I had waffles for breakfast early with a small amount of scrambled eggs. The start was at 10.30, so I figured why not? Plenty of time for things to settle down. The announcer mentioned there were more than one hundred racers at today's event. A new record, I think he said. It was a qualifier for nationals, I guess. It's confusing understanding what is nationals? I think the pro national championship is in Missoula in July. So the nationals in Idaho must be the other mtb calender."Do you miss this?" I asked LR. "Yes." Came a jubilant reply. That made my morning. He took some photos, but was not racing - that was ok. We were given ten seconds and sent. As is typical, things pretty well exploded with dust going during the first tiny lap. The pros screamed up the mountain on the first loop, leading everyone. Man, as my lungs became oxygen deprived and my legs felt the searing pain, things started coming back in a hurry. Namely, full on hurts!The initial climb was not too bad and my legs felt ok. I was breathing hard, however, which was no surprise, given my level of activity over the last numerous months. The course was a sandy single and atv double track going up. The patrollers were at a creek section that everyone clipped out on and waded across. I fumbled feeling along the bottom of the creek trying not to slip in the current that was up to my knees. Fresh cold snowmelt. I got across and then clipped back in again in the middle ring granny and headed to the top of the mountain - trying to remember to drink and eat a gel when I could.There was a Miller card board piece of a box on top somewhere that was bonus points (maybe a six pack?) if we found it, but I did not fiddle with that, already getting killed (probably should have in hindsight). I forgot about the perils of the downhill and saw my life flash before my eyes in one section at mach something with dust flying from two racers in front of me and a deep trench in the right downhill track which I managed to hop out of without buying the farm. The two racers in front of me crashed. I asked if they were ok. After that I toned it down on the downhills. They were loose, dry and super fast, typical Idaho soft sand, easy to bury into with too much front brake.The first lap took about and hour and ten minutes. At the start I had no idea if I should have taken an extra bottle or not? How long it would take. Some guys had a bottle and a small water pack on their back. LR threw me a bottle as I came through the finish/start area, while his little bro rang a cow bell and sister cheered too. Pretty cool really. Last year at father's day we were in Oregon doing the TOE, this year it was Soldier Mtn. and then to watch a tourney. I headed back up for another lap, knowing I was getting hammered by the other racers. "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son." Dean Wormer. I wobbled a bit in the creek.

Cramming last minute is not the best method for planning a season. I managed to pass a few folks towards the tail end of the race, but it made little difference, that's for sure. "Dad, Berry finished in an hour and a half." LR informed me at the finish. I was like two hours and fifteen minutes. "Gee, thanks son, I was thinking..." It was a fun day on an epic course and I left with renewed enthusiasm for racing. Knobbytire and Brokenspoke put on a great race. I enjoyed a brat afterwards, complements of the promoters.

Back in the Wood

2011-06-12T07:05:00.007-06:00

I looked up. Four horsemen (three were women) were just below the area I was descending, clip clopping up the trail. Red, my full suspension bike, was feeling smooth and great on the down. It was trip number three down Three Pines. We've had a lot of rain to go with the recently higher temps. My glasses were caked. I slowed and stopped well ahead of the riders on horseback. I dropped off below the trial watching them approach with smiles. "You've found the mud today, G." A friend, the lead rider, said. "Am I far enough below the trail for you?" I followed. "Plenty." They said. "Have a good ride." I said as I went back up on the singletrack and watched the last horse head up the trail now above me. I guess things were a bit muddy. This mess was mainly from the water on the road from the last bail off junction going up 513 - little creeks flowing down the two tracks in the road above the mtber's prized singletrack descent.Wonder if I can get my friend to take a saw up 513 and down through the East Fork shortly? Guess that is what I was thinking on the fourth lap. There's still plenty of snow not too far below Blue; or, at least a few weeks ago there was. The bicycle in the woods is peace. I miss it. It appears that what I thought was a hamstring injury back in Feb of 2010 may have been (and still be) a groin adductor injury. It is now along the lower inside of the knee, little webs that have over time moved down. Guess I'll get to grin and continue to bear it, continuing with some massage and ice that is. My diagnosis, remedy. Less erg at the moment, more cycling. Taking the recent months off for new family activities has probably been a good thing too. Though rest is not my forte.Was hoping yesterday to look into the new track in Dodge, but it was not to be. Always a fan of making lemonade out of busted logistics, however, and had a great morning along my fav. lower trail. Lots of hikers and few mtber's. Getting there slowly.

2nd One Down

2011-06-05T14:22:00.012-06:00

Well, the first annual BPR is a wrap. 46 riders came out to a beautiful day in Bearmouth and rode along the Clark Fork, and then turned off at Drummond (I almost went to P-berg) and then took the Helmville cutoff, turning around at the Nevada Creek Reservoir and returning along the same route. There also was a 50 mile option along part of the same route mentioned above. The club volunteers did a good job with the rest stops along the route, which provided water, Gatorade, fruit and bars. Also, at the reservoir, lunch was provided. This is a very relaxing and mellow route. The cutoff road to Helmville is spectacular. Today was in the 70s and sunny. The countryside was green with yellow flowers in the pastures. This, below the snow covered Bob Marshall peaks. I posted some of the general stats to encourage folks to attend next year who were uncertain about the route. There really is only one brief climb which does have a pretty steep grade, however, the route generally is very rider friendly. Going out I had a very relaxing morning and visited with friends at the stations. At the finish, a full barbecue was provided with refreshments. Great experience and I hope to do it again next year. Thanks too to friends for getting me back in the saddle! Jake's knobbies are running down.

Memorial Weekend

2011-05-30T08:24:00.004-06:00

Coaches Joe and John get a lot of credit. They started the team training early in the winter and never let off. Also, always being willing to take additional time to work with the athletes. Yesterday, all of the work and preparation paid off with the U-14 boys winning the state title and the Kalispell tournament. So, now more to come with regionals in latter June and another trip to Boise.

Following Sunday's championship game, we utilized the season pass and got some ice cream in Glacier park. Incredible weekend. The sun even came out. Thanks Veterans!

Still Skiing

2011-05-21T22:50:00.035-06:00

A couple of weeks back there was some rumbling over joe one morning about wrapping up the ski season with another trip into the mountains. Then, between children's events and work, things got dropped. My bud Thad had also disappeared off of the grid on a work project as well. Then, this past Thursday rolls around. "We going skiing?" Came the e-mail. I happened to be in town and was sure this whole matter had been dismissed. "What?" I replied. "Where are you, anyway?" "Let's talk about it in the morning." So, Friday morning, over our traditional cup of coffee at the regular spot, we decided for Saturday we would head to the Missions. We had done some general route planning in the prior weeks, and had polished up on a few things. After all, we decided, it could be good. I plugged in a bunch of general waypoints and printed off a couple of topos. Thad had read up on a trail that led into the two Riddell Lakes, which began not too far from the Twin Lakes camping area. The trail was not on the maps, however - na klar! I was brushing up on a few last minute reviews on general matters, such as What to do and not to do ifs on Friday night. Also, spending a bit re-reviewing Tremper's work. The weather indicated Friday night that there was a possibility of rain, and a higher possibility Saturday (5/21) afternoon. Rain on old snow. Perhaps not as significant as rain on new or recent snow, but still something to think about. I picked up Thad at 06.40. At the Evaro area, 50 Eggs indicated on the cell that we had missed a big breakfast opportunity at his shop, which we had driven by. "Seriously? Why didn't you bring that up yesterday over the cup-o-joe?" Thad asked over the cell. "Well, I figured you'd just come by!" 50 Eggs continued. I had slammed three bananas for breakfast. It had been my suggestion to get an earlier start on this one than 6.30, but hey, next time someone is going to get up earlier anyway for the free breakfast now, no? The good news was it was a blue bird morning in Dodge and on the Reservation. We picked up our Reservation permits prior to this one. Both of us had axes, among the standard equipment. I brought my metal shovel rather than the rando race plastic job. This was not a race. Thad had the rope, and I had bear spray clipped to the front of my pack and a bell on the rear next to either the running shoes or ski boots, whichever I did not happen to be wearing. Griz country. Two Griz have recently been shot in the state, one in what used to be a favorite waterfowling area down low. Coming out of hibernation the bears are hungry. "I can curl into a ball." Thad said coming out. "The bear better leave my skis alone, though." "After you hit him with the pepper spray, follow up with that ice pick." Or something like that, Thad continued. I was glad he had the rope, though I offered to carry it and each time he refused. Rope is heavy. I had point for the first two or three miles in the trees in and out. Thad did a bang up job locating the initial trail, not too long after we humped up a gated logging road. However, the trail reminded me of the East Fork of the Rattlesnake - especially this time of year. All down fall. I was not certain which was worse, carrying a bike over trees across the trail or trying to dip ski tips under and around trees? My skis are black with pine and dirt on the upper bases. On top of the first little summit, maybe 7000 feet I put in a waypoint titled "corner." We had an awesome view of the St. Mary's area eastern aspect. The snow was wet and soft. Maybe sinking in, with skins on, three or four inches. The sun was shining and we were sweating quite a bit, drinking fluids and eating the usual stuff, bars, gels and I think Thad had an almond butter sandwich with peaches. He gave me a bite - pretty good!
We scooted across to Lower Riddell after observing a few things, including one small slide that had occurred not too far below (east of) the St. Mary's viewing area. It looked like wet, heavy cement blocks. Maybe a week old or so. One of the things that occurred to me making the crossing above the lower lake was that there was a creek flowing below between the two and to pay attention. The snow was deep. The lower lake had just begun to melt around a couple of the edges. The color of the water was a bright turquoise. Glacial like. Amazing. We chose routes through the trees where we could. One of my Trab skins was now failing to stick to the base of the ski. Things were soaked from recent moisture and now the sun. Generally, however, I'd say I'm pretty unhappy with the glue on the skins. Thad had a few words about them as well. The strap worked no problem and was a quick remedy. Going to have to apply some more glue shortly, though. Our objective was to ascend the south aspect of the peak, booting up and then skiing the same aspect out. Observing the area prior to heading in, we noted numerous sluff slides to the west of the main chute and one coming out of the chute as well. Also, at the top of the chute there were numerous large cornices. Though if left alone, cornices will probably sit pat; however, the observations still had us a bit concerned and we had a pretty good discussion about plans. We decided to skin across under three large rocks that from the lake below below did not look nearly as large as they were once we skinned below them. Getting past the last rock, we were in the apron below the main chute. Lots of exposure. While skinning across, we pushed off some sluff that was maybe only a few inches deep. This was an interesting thing to watch as it was so wet. It basically was like watching slow lava on tiny soaked ball bearings, working its way down resting on harder packed snow not too far below the surface. It did, however, get our attention. Below, at the lake, we had decided to dig a pit after the last lower rock on the aspect we would be descending, in the apron area. We were not too far from the rock, but we felt far enough in on the same slope. The compression test went on the full shoulder swing, number 23 following 10 small taps from the wrist, 10 from the elbow, and then on the 3rd from the shoulder it exposed a weak layer. The shear quality was a two or maybe even three. It was a "hard" result. Thad likes the Rutschblock. We decided maybe a RB3 "and a half." Looking back towards the lake, it was evident also that rain was on the way and clouds were coming in. We discussed it and made the final decision to end it at this point even though the results were generally stable. There were clearly two small slab slides that had occurred in the area and we also did not want to get caught in a storm going out. We skinned a bit further up towards the objective, somewhere near 8,000 feet, staying apart, and then separately enjoyed a descent to the south east of the lake on wet, heavy snow. On both of our descents, the snow did absolutely nothing - solid. We looked at each other and the question came. "Should we go for it?" Half jokingly, but maybe not entirely. We looked also at the clouds rolling in from the south and decided otherwise. It was maybe a bit after 15.00.On the trek out, we skied a few other sections in the rain. 50 Eggs was receiving a few beacon bips I was sending out so he could follow along. I think I sent out four or five over the course of the day. We spoke along the route out about things like skiing the same b/c spot often and becoming complacent. Upon being below the corner, I noticed a person skinning above some trees above us. It was maybe 16.00 and this fellow was just getting in. Once we got up, we visited with these two folks, from town who were touring with their dog. "Pretty hard finding that trail!" He said. We put on our shells as things were deteriorating significantly by this point. He mentioned they were going into the lakes. It seemed pretty late in the day, but it's getting dark around nine now too. I was completely soaked skiing through the trees coming down and along the hike out. My heels had held up fairly well today. Thad was a beast carrying the rope among his other items. At the truck, we were exhausted. We had climbed maybe five thousand feet and covered twelve miles. The only miserable part was the downed trees for a few miles to and fro and the fact that I missed a few spots on the lower arms with the sun screen! Thanks for the mystery jerky Thaddy! Great day.

Gierach's Latest

2011-05-19T00:15:00.006-06:00

I concluded this evening that the reason I like this writer is that he's a fisherman. No other writer about the sport of fly fishing has done a better job of capturing the experience of fly fishing better than Mr. Gierach. That's our conclusion after reading all of his prior books and now the first 100 pages of his latest work, No Shortage of Good Days. I had to stop, for fear I'd read the whole work in one night. The rivers are up in Missoula and the lakes are still frozen, so the release of the new work is perfect - as Gierach outlines in his chapter Book Tour, his publisher likes spring for releasing his works. Not bad timing, but we honestly would have bought the book during elk season in the fall, too - regardless.

Regular followers (of our nonsense) know we like Gierach. We often listen to him reading Trout Bum in the truck in the tape deck, which still works even though the CD player is broken. Entertainment to and from races and/or other events or fishing excursions.

Gierach writes well and I've concluded represents the man I've fished with forever, though never known. His stories resonate with us. Writing of copperheads, thick rhododendron, laurel and spider webs in Appalachia, frozen fingers and nymphs in Colorado at altitude, deet and deer flies, and pitching lead with fragile bamboo fly rods made by friends. These are all things we can relate to. Night fishing as well - absolutely! No experience like it. Gierach takes us back to memories of great times once again. Thanks! Saving the second half for a tent.

No Shortage of Good Days, John Gierach, Simon and Schuster, 2011

Coeur D'Alene

2011-05-15T23:19:00.010-06:00

Following not too far on the heels of a trip down to Boise, we found ourselves headed to Coeur D'Alene for another tourney. This trip, however, I decided to take along Jake for an early Saturday morning spin south to Anderson Lake along one of my favorite scenic areas, Idaho's Hwy 97 Scenic Biway. LR and I came back this way last year following the TOE and fished the St. Joe on a loop back up to St. Regis.

I got a bit goofed up for part of the morning tooling around figuring out the connection between the Hwy 95 exit and getting over to the Hwy 97 exit. Mainly in the E. Sunnyside and Yellowstone trail connector area. Made an extra trip down to the lake. Typical start for something planned totally the night before, impromptu. The sun was hitting the Vet's Memorial Bridge early in the morning.
I guess I'm trying to maintain at the moment. Nothing more. There was not one other rider on the 97 portion. The road is narrow and there is not much in terms of bike relief. This, however, is nothing new if one is used to riding Hwy 12, so I really did not mind. I watched a dachshund gnaw on an elk calf carcass in one section heading south. Roadkill for breakfast I guess.

There were not many lodges open yet and I think I noted one gas station about halfway down. The wind was blowing along the shore, but it was a warm morning. Slowly the sun was peeking through the trees along the way. The boy scout camp was active, and the young troops were up doing their activities as I rode through.

I started to get a bit nervous going down and turned around just above the Anderson area due to low water supply, the logistics mess up early in the ride, and the desire to catch the second match.

I stopped at a bar/lodge near the Beauty Bay area on the return. There was one truck out front, and the door was open. When I went in, there was a kind older lady in the rear deck area who allowed me to fill the pack in the kitchen sink. She mentioned in a couple of weeks they would be open and the area would be alive with fun. There were slides above the boat docks, which at the moment were all floating tightly tied together like sardines. "How much were those shoes?" She asked me out of the blue. "How much was all of your gear, including the bike?" She continued before I could even answer. "My doctor says you can take all of the drugs you like, but it's exercise that helps." By this point, I was just listening. "This is a dangerous road. I'm afraid to bike on it. I have bad joints though, so maybe I'll get a bike" She said. "You should be able to get set up entirely, bike, shoes, helmet, and clothes for under a thousand dollars." I said. "Is this your place?" I enquired. "No, the owner lives in Vegas, I'm the caretaker." There were many mansions along the route. I thanked her for the water and headed back to town.

The wind along the Wolf Bay section blew so hard I almost could not stay to the right of the lane. White caps. I took the photos above and below in the main city area on Sunday. The boaters looked like they were having a good time.

The team Todd is playing on really played their hearts out. They won three games on Saturday against mainly Canadian teams - I missed the first one. They then defeated another team Sunday morning out of BC in the semis and lost in the finals, following a shoot out to settle a 0-0 tie against a very tough home team during a torrential down pour that lasted from start to finish. The drive home was wet. The snow is pouring out of the Lookout area.

Wallace this Evening

2011-05-15T23:15:00.001-06:00

Finally Spring

2011-05-11T19:29:00.000-06:00

Got the green light from the committee (as a ski friend recently put it) to go ahead this evening and do whatever. Practices were covered.

It's funny what people do in Missoula when the sun finally comes out and it hits the seventies. I took advantage of the situation and headed to the 'bowl parking lot this evening. There were two other cars/trucks parked outside of the gate. I was hoping for everyone to be cycling, running, fishing, or, or, or... not skiing.

My favorite bartender was hard at work outside on the deck getting ready for something. We visited for a bit. He looked at me a little funny as I was in shorts and a t-shirt. I turned on the latest Radiohead and had the Eastern Conference folks, who I had come across on the U radio, along also for a back up for somewhere up top.

It was roasting going up the outrun. Things are going to melt off pretty quickly given the new temps. Wonder how things are going to shake out with the salmon flies and higher water? Guess we'll see how things develop.

The climb was fine. Figured I'd go straight up the west bowl, but it did not quite work out that way. Things are a bit soft. I followed a pretty well set track up the west ridge instead. Thanks, by the way, whoever you were! Pretty good track.

Skiing out there was a fellow on snowshoes below A-face and then a couple in shorts and t-shirts too skinning up along the rope tow headed somewhere. Then, driving out, there was Martin, hammering up the asphalt of Grant Ck. Rd on his mountain bike also headed somewhere. We waived at each other.

First One In the Books

2011-05-07T11:23:00.004-06:00

My daughter and I managed to get in twelve miles along the Bitterroot and through the Fort this morning during a fundraiser for a great local shelter. This was our first charity ride this year. The weather cooperated and smiles were abundant. Thanks to all of the great volunteers!

May Day '11

2011-05-01T23:56:00.006-06:00

Back from the Lochsa today. The route began Friday. MSO, Lemhi (remember the fire with Alden above Salmon in the snow? Very good weekend), Birch Creek, Arco, Boise. Going down we discussed a few matters. "Quick, look to the left (near Birch Creek), there will be a hole in that mountain side (pre-historic area just above the nuclear site where I did a few laps prior to a race once)." Sure enough, it was still there. The rancher had lost his American flag on the end of his irrigation system, however. I missed that. We took the whole fam. down Friday. I had the con.

Today coming back it was Eagle, Donnelly (remember Tamarack? I flatted I think twice), Riggins (still low and clear), South Fork and Kooskia below Grangeville (friends caught 7 there couple of weeks ago), Lochsa, (fished lower section, above photo - time to get the Canon back out, right?), then at 23.00, home. Now coffee'd out and writing away.

It took a while today after the last game, but I decided to make a donation to the folks in Idaho and buy a $98.00 out of state annual license. We did not have the LR's social security number along, so he'll have to wait and see if we make it back this year (being 14 and all) - good probability. Pretty quiet over there tonight, though. Someone continued working on his 2,000 pages that are due soon, while we fished at dusk. I pointed out numerous deer on a hillside, not too far from a new sign pointing out an "avalanche area." What's up with all of the new signs on the route, by the way. New creek citations and what-have-you. I realized driving home that I miss the Lochsa. Hope to ride out there soon. There were very few raft and kayaker's out today as the snow is still frozen in place high atop the drainage. The stars, however, were abundant on Lolo pass. I stopped and gazed while others slept. Once, driving home with 50 Eggs after a steak in Orifino, I stopped on the pass and was directed above to the sky to observe the stars. I have not missed the opportunity since. Funny watching the mile markers and telling stories about some of them coming home though! I think George Winston and Dave Brubeck (my recent downloads) are going to be replaced by the Foo Fighters and AC/DC shortly (Scoob's choice). Time to see where things are. Is Sheep ready yet? Two months to cram now. Argh! Big Sur coming out tomorrow.PS. Someone is having a good time with the new routine. Learning all over again. Great time at the tournament. Good job FC! Truly enjoyed it. All had fun.

East of Town

2011-04-24T20:21:00.005-06:00

Todd and I made it out to Rock Creek this afternoon - Easter. It was his call. I actually got the mountain bikes down first and cleaned them, but the decision was made to drive out to Rock Creek and see what was going on on the creek. We chatted a bit in a section and let the dog get in the creek. Quite a few folks frown on dogs being along while fishing this creek. I'm not sure why. Someone cited cow moose once to me. I always take the dog along anyway. The weather was spectacular today. Perhaps spring is truly here. The creek is a bit murky, but not bad. Todd's casting is getting to be pretty sound. He even tied on his own flies this afternoon. We could not get a fish to rise for him, however. We watched a couple of sippers along the west bank, but they would not take the imitations. I managed to connect with two fish. One got off. One didn't.

Happiness Indeed

2011-04-23T21:28:00.005-06:00

After a couple of fun games in Butte (once again today), WD and I did an immediate b-line for the river when we got back to Missou. [Wen below Lolo Pk above]. The phone said sunset was at 8.30, so we were in business. I was excited to pitch a few of Fred's flies and hoped the river was running clear. Wen was well behaved and steady as usual in the canoe. This was our second trip out this year.

We adopted Wen and I've come to care for her a great deal. I usually worry about labs dealing with ice shelves while waterfowling; however, this evening, the old girl found herself battling a couple of large fallen snags on a distant bank and managed to drift just downstream below them and then over to a sandy, rocky beach, rather than under the large fallen trees and into the abyss. Scary moment.

Labs. Now-a-days they seem to be born with webbed feet. Powerful water dogs after years of development - specific work related breeding. We've owned many breeds over the years, but I've come to love this one, adopted or otherwise.

The fishing was quite poor this evening. We had one rise on one of Fred's Skwalas (getting to be a bit late on this hatch). I had a beautiful little bead head dropper with a peacock dressing dangling a few feet below the dry imitation on the surface. The hit on the surface fly was snappy. I missed him. It may have been that certain others, read numerous fishing buds, would have missed him as well, but I doubt it. He was above one of my favorite logs. Appeared to have been just a little fellow.

Last week I ran into an old timer not too far above the same location. He was clear out in the middle of the river, casting into a deep section. I had canoed as usual to the far bank, gotten out, and was drifting nymphs while hiking above a couple of nice sections. "I wonder if the dam removal is affecting this area (upstream on the 'root, just above the confluence with the Clark Fork) the same as it has the Clark Fork?" He inquired. That evening, as tonight, things were very slow on top. This guy had a white beard and fished methodically. Often changing flies and hitting numerous sections over and over again. He had been here before. He did not change holes or move up and down the river. He changed methods, and flies where he knew the fish were. Perfect drifts on many different nymph patterns.

That night last week, as I came back down the river below the golf course and over the east side where this fellow was hard at it, he wrapped up wading to the bank saying he like my canoe and noticing it had a lot of rocker. I thanked him and agreed. I liked some rocker, I said. Not a bad idea for Missoula's rivers during high water, the Flathead and numerous other local streams. My general reasoning. Not a Missouri rig for between the dams, that's for sure.

The amount of life and activity on the river this evening was amazing. Finally, some damn sun in town! Mallards and diver's were abundant. Geese everywhere. One heron and numerous kingfishers. Some kids had pitched a tent along the bank in one section. Nice to see.

I have a feeling my snag in the drink is going to get flushed downstream shortly. A friend said there were something like thirty autos that came up the 'bowl road this morning to skin up and spend a day skiing laps on the one hundred and twenty inch base that is still on top! [another phone camera photo below...getting the hang of it slowly]. Can't blame them for that. Beautiful day.

Not Yet

2011-04-22T17:28:00.002-06:00

Quite a bit behind last year. Won't be long now though.

three 20s

2011-04-21T11:00:00.003-06:00

Just prior to the memory running out on the watch, I managed to get in three twenty minute tempos on 17 on the LF machine on the 15th. Almost maintained 90 cad on the last 20 throughout. Not sure I've done this before this early in the season. Ski legs count for something I guess. However, during the weekend, I got the request for a normal summer this year which is sure to mean more of things like fishing and camping and less training and racing. It might be good to spend more time on the river. It's also been interesting having spring events already with different kids on each weekend day. Things are busy!

Last Day

2011-04-17T18:11:00.004-06:00

Last day on the hill was extended this year to today, the 17th. The place seemed a bit busier than I can recall in the past. Thad, two rascals, and I managed to get in quite a few runs during the afternoon. Darth Vader and storm troopers loaded us on the Griz Lift. Packman was fast on top and plenty of suits were skiing down the hill. We bumped into numerous mates enjoying the afternoon sun. At one point, the Griz lift broke down. However, soon a fuse was replaced and we were once again on our way to another run. Perhaps a few skin laps may be in order now, as the upper fences are still almost completely buried.

Inspiring Ride

2011-04-13T21:21:00.006-06:00

During LR's practice I managed a few singletrack laps in Blue Mtn. area tonight. Cold and non-stop rain. Felt pretty good! Then, descending, I noticed a dark green jacket riding up in the puddles. "Hey!" "I did not expect anyone else out tonight." He said. Then, before I knew it, Ross was clipped out and gave me one of those big Ross hugs. Not sure of the last time I saw Ross. Probably during the last ride for Marcy. We were soaked in the rain, and I was covered with mud. "I got in trouble wearing the Sheephead hat at a race in Idaho." Ross continued. Seems the man got yelled at by an official for wearing the lid and not a helmet at a venue. It does not get any better than that! We caught up and then Ross continued up the trail while I took a phone call reminding me to pick up someone at his practice. Ride on Ross, ride on!

Fish Flies

2011-04-06T08:29:00.003-06:00

Monday a friend brought by some Skwala's he tied up. On the left. On the right are Max's Salmonflies, tied in Brighton. Hope we get another shot at the Skwala's with some clarity on the 'root. Thanks for the fish flies fellows!

Confluence

2011-04-05T08:34:00.007-06:00

Confluence. Tuesday afternoon. It was raining - somewhat welcome and not atypical for a late March day in Missoula. Overcast and just above freezing. Time to check the waders as the Skwalas were soon to begin their bursting forth. Dogs. Unwavering love. Tail thumping, she looked up at me from inside her kennel and knew something good was about to occur. I pulled the clip from the door handle and she burst through the yard, mud flying, then the gate and into the back of the pickup. Driving through town, matters were still undecided. Then, the confluence got the nod, where the Bitterroot flows into the Clark Fork. Why not? I had the fast action rod, though the evening was not about fishing, but a hike and perhaps a wader check. No one was at the access. One blue pickup parked at the far end. I pulled on the waders, grabbed a light down coat and my vest. We left her bumper. We took the rod. It continued to rain. It was nice. Our journey began by walking upstream. The confluence consists of many braids of water, flowing through a large wooded area. Eventually, the Bitterroot channels in. Many trees were down with fresh beaver activity. Bark stripped away. We walked over them. Downed Cottonwoods. The rain and wind felt almost welcome. The river was chalky and rising. I was surprised by the lack of change in the area. Almost two decades had gone by since my last visit to this section. Mostly the past visits were to pitch decoys into still unfrozen channel water and hide among the animals along the banks, whitetails, ravens and blue herons. I would sit silently waiting for mallards while watching the sky and the lab’s eyes. Dogs learn to mark the sky and often give hunters warning of incoming game. However, in the muck, when I arrived at a certain pool, I saw him there. Almost twenty years ago, graduation. He had come to town. Hang gliders were sailing above Jumbo and Sentinel. He was casting live hoppers into one of my favorite rips. A spinning rod rigged with split shot a foot or so above the bait. I had helped him catch the hoppers along the dry rocks and grass on the bank. We had always fished the Greenbrier, the Williams or the headwaters of the Elk with nightcrawlers, mill worms, salmon eggs or hellgrammites. Or, also spinners or sallies. They each had worked, particularly if the stock truck had just come along, though often a string of miners were sure to have been close behind, following the truck with Gen. Yeager’s golden trout. He hooked and landed many large rainbows that summer near the confluence. Significant bends in the rod. Grand smiles. A young Labrador, Lex, prancing around all the while. However, the best ones, large ‘bows, were caught on the fly rod, which I would demonstrate how to cast, often handing off the rod while following the hopper down along the distant bank. We gave the trout to the neighbors that day. On high school summer break, one day after work, I had gone to a box store in Charleston and taken a stab at a ready to go, plain Jane, fly rod kit – literally a K-Mart Special. Something totally foreign. On the Williams, during a sunny afternoon while fishing alone, a beautiful native brook trout had actually come to the surface to consume a tiny Royal Coachman. Not one witness. The fish was released. Stunned, a new way to fish had been discovered. The memory of that final time of recreation together, where the Bitterroot meets the Clark Fork, burned through the rain and cold during the evening walk. The dog and I continued our journey, wading through another section. “Can I pursue?” The expression exclaimed. The dog was asking for permission to chase a pair of geese that honked at us in a smooth flowing area. The request was denied. Somewhere was sure to be a nest with eggs, or perhaps goslings. We crossed through another section onto one of many islands. Whitetails were springing through the trees at a distance. Looking up, I noticed a deer stand that an archer had left attached half way up a tree. Black and metal, a strap wrapped around the tree held it in place. The seat was up. It was getting dark, still raining. We turned back, again stepping over beaver felled cottonwoods. There were rusted old vehicles in an area. I did not recall the old vehicles. Reaching the same familiar hole on the return, I waded deeply into the channel casting a San Juan worm. The wind was blowing rain onto my glasses. The waders did not leak. Later, arriving at the vehicle near dark, two pick-up trucks were parked next to ours. I changed, removing the dirt and rocks from the base of my waders.

10/16/11: Revised: I added a photo from the day and removed the bumper sticker which was on one of the pick-ups. Possibly taken out of context by some readers.

1939

2011-03-30T07:07:00.002-06:00

From the wife's office.

Too Nice Not To

2011-03-24T09:16:00.003-06:00

It was too nice yesterday not to get Jake out finally and go for some climbs. We decided on eight tempos up lower Gharrett and 55th to an old favorite mail box, wrapping up at the water tank. I forgot how much these hurt. There were numerous other riders out consuming the dust clouds being kicked up by passing vehicles. We hope to make a few races this year; however, with three going in all directions, everything is going to be subject.

Confidence

2011-03-18T17:19:00.003-06:00

LR did a few monkey turns and then dropped into Hidden Couloir full on today. We're having fun now!

Upcoming Cycling Charity Events

2011-03-15T14:40:00.005-06:00

May 7th - Watson's

June 5th - Lion's Bicycle

June 25th - Ratpod

August 11th - Symphony: Cycle

New Vert. Event

2011-03-14T20:12:00.003-06:00

How to make the Old Man proud. Come home with an original watercolor (no. 30 of 30) from the bowl's inaugural event. Seems that while someone was down in UT over the weekend, the LR and his partner FJ, managed to each ski 48,000 feet of vertical doing mostly Spartan laps, winning their age category. LR said he thought Ty made the above work (soon to be happily framed in his room). LR mentioned the winning partnership did 50k, on a tele setup no less.

Brighton

2011-03-14T16:45:00.042-06:00

"You want to head down to see Max?" I asked my friend Pete while I had a cup of soup at the Last Run in early February. He'd been doing some occasional work in the ski shop on the hill. "Sounds great, I'll check the weekend and as we get closer let's touch base." I was in luck once again this year [Skin to Win the first time] as the rascal's did not have an event away from the 'bowl on the 12th and that happened to be the date for the Wasatch Powder Keg, a randonee event held this year at Brighton - where Max just happened to be employed on the patrol. "Can you fit a carbon Felt road bike in the back with our ski gear?" The night prior to our departure, Pete enquired. "I need to take one down." So, with a bike in the back that was more expensive than the truck, we headed down to SLC to see Max, Kristen, Zak (Labrador) and Smoky (a rare cat with a great personality). It was good to be carpooling to SLC. There were a few items of note that occurred on Friday driving down. One was an e-mailed photo from an old ski buddy in WV (below post). Another item was a new NFL player's strike. I mentioned to Pete that the last time a strike occurred in the NFL my dad turned the NFL off for good. The last item was the tragic earthquake that occurred off the coast of Japan, an event that continues to unfold. A friend in Hawaii at the time sent a text to me indicating the tsunami had caused quite a scare Thursday night.After work Friday, Max met us in a modern office complex at the base of the canyon where the racer's meeting was being held. Max and Pete took off and I sat among the nearly one hundred and forty participants and payed attention to understand just what exactly I had gotten myself into. There were racers from different parts of the US and I believe some folks from Europe. Chad reviewed the rules and thanked the sponsors (there were many). As I attend events, I appreciate more and more the importance of supporting sponsors and try to make it a point to do so in the stores as well. Chad indicated, during a slide presentation, that there were some sections that they were concerned about for the next morning depending on what the temps did overnight. If it was cold enough overnight, things should be stable in the area of concern. The call would be made in the morning. He indicated they had added an additional section to the course ('10's course), making it a little over eleven miles and about 6k of climbing. There were something like ten or eleven transitions! Part of the course was out of bounds, something Brighton is well known for - o/b access.We went out to dinner and I had some light pasta. I was trying to figure out if I wanted to take a shot on the mohair skins w/o the rear clips I had doctored up. Given all of the transitions, I was not sure if this was going to be a good idea. I had brought along a few straps as well, just in case. There was not a lot of sleep Friday night. The start was at 07.00, so we drove over a tad after five. These things are a lot like the mtb scene. There were folks getting in their last slugs of water and running through the gear check area. At this check I realized the batteries in my transceiver were dead. It was still in the on position for some reason? I had some extra batteries in the truck, but I used Thad's extra old Pieps I still happened to have along in the glove as it was quicker than finding a screw driver.The start was a Le Mans start; however, the skis were to be on the back rather than waiting in an orderly line at the end of the sprint. So, the skins were first put on the skis prior to going on the pack. I did not see anyone go down, but the parking lot was a shade icy. Max got a few photos. I had my standard set-up. Duct tape shim, brakes and so on. I did go for the mohair, hoping to stay upright stripping off the skins and keeping the glue out of the snow. The temps had been warm and I had an odd feeling during the warm-up trying to glide down a hill with the skins on - they felt like they were sticking when they should have been gliding. I'll have to look into skin wax I guess. The only thing I did not have along was goggles which I opted to keep in the vehicle knowing I had the old Uvex mtb glasses just in case. The guys at the front sprinted hard and took off immediately. I literally almost bonked on the first section. The h/r was fine, but my lungs were not happy campers, so I backed off on the initial two mile ascent realizing it was going to be a long race. I think the upper sections, Preston and Milli peaks, are about 10,400 feet. Chatting with Max later, I mentioned the anaerobic start (like an XC mtb event) to these combined with elevation may have gotten the lungs attention - that combined of course with the fact that someone may also be a touch out of shape! On the way up we traversed under the Great Western Express lift (Max and Zak riding up below) and made our way to just below Clayton Pk. This transition went well for me. Snap rear of boot into ski mode. Adjust brakes and turn heel piece to ski mode. Snap in rear boot. Lift left ski. Grab ski pole just in case. Lean forward and down, grabbing washer with ski lifted. Strip skin down ski trying not to step down on skin while peeling down the ski. During this first transition, the glue was still very sticky and the rear of the skin was a bit unwilling to easily strip off w/o stepping on it, but it worked fine on both skis. I tucked the skins into the jersey and headed down into an open bowl area. Someone said to us to watch out.The snow in this section was sobering. There was about a one inch crust on top and under that was a foot or more of heavy snow. This was just perfect on boots with no ability to drive the ski! It was almost hopeless. My legs were tired from the prior climb. I made my way down this and another racer came literally bombing by me skiers left. I could not believe it. Then, as soon as he went by, he went into a wild face plant and something like two full cartwheels with speed, skis and poles exploding. Part of me was laughing, but I skied over to him and asked if he was ok? He said he was and I continued down. Shortly after, my right binding released, but I stayed up and hiked up to the ski and put it on. When I got to the bottom of this drop, I was seriously concerned about the rest of the morning and what had I gotten myself into? I complained to myself while trying to pull the skins apart to put them on the skis. Each skin was stuck to itself! I could not believe this! Finally, I checked the base of the skis and snapped the washer in the top and carefully slid the skins on the base of the ski. I listened to the other racers pulling into this transition area behind me and just shook my head laughing now, skinning back up to the next peak.This transition was not as smooth as the one on top of the Clayton area. While pulling off the right skin, I did not get the rear of the skin quite off, stepped on the partially off skin and then fell over. "We're having fun now." I said to myself, laughing with a volunteer at the station. I thanked her for volunteering and she mentioned the snow on this descent was much better than the last one. She was right. It was great snow, with some moguls and a few trees.

This routine went on for a while, putting back on the skins and heading back up. Then skiing down. Part of the race was in bounds and part o/b. The organizers said to make sure we did not accidentally go off of the back of Preston as the avy conditions back there were perilous (south aspect). I paid attention in that area. The course was very well flagged, ascents and descents. I only had one problem with this, and that was hauling down a groomer/cat track that snaked through some trees. Things were moving pretty fast and I lost the flags slamming on the brakes and waiting for someone behind me to double check I was still in the right area. It was brief.

On another section similar to the above described descent, I was carrying a lot of speed and flew off of a blind drop. I'm not sure how many feet it was in the air, but it was not small. I landed on a bump in the road or a mogul and managed to keep it together. I'll give the Dynafit bindings thumbs up for that one! Max, Pete, Kristen and I were free skiing in the area Sunday, and I then understood how it happened. A bit of a quick drop off on the road.

The transitions, drops and climbs continued working our way back across the ridge line. Finally, back to the lodge area for one last blast up under the Milly Express area. It was an odd feeling, but I was coming back to life for this last portion and I passed folks skinning in this area. There was another racer behind who gave a jubilant "Woo Hoo" along the way up this. Some racers had gotten on their edges and slipped backwards falling on the switchbacks coming up under a section under the lift. I managed to move along and got to the last climbing section, a boot pack to the top of Mt. Millicent (below).

I asked a volunteer if he knew if I'd need skins at the top of this section or not? He said some of the leaders had kept theirs on the ski during the climb and others had stripped them off prior to the pack up. I stripped the skins off, clicked the skis together, and put them in the pack. The climb felt fine, although the leaders were finished by now and there were not many folks to pass. At the top I put the skis on quickly and skied and skated my way over to Stupid Chute which sits below the Wolverine Mt area. One participant skinned along the top section across to the chute, while I side stepped it. Stupid Chute was more snow similar to the first descent. My legs burned heading down to Twin Lake Reservoir and I had to sit back a bit finding the center of the light gear. AT rando events, "It's about the up" they say. Yep, for sure.

I did not skin across the lake. This may have been a mistake though because there were only two sets of tracks and both were straight "classical" tracks. I could not skate due to the type of snow. As a matter of fact, I found myself pressing my poles into the snow between my feet and skis to move forward. This was due to the poles going deeply into the snow on the sides if they were not pressed into the track. My shoulders were hammered at the end of this reservoir.

The race then wound down through some tree sections and along what appeared to be some nice homes, then into the finish area. I was glad I made it through. Three hours and seven minutes. Twenty two of thirty eight in the men's race division. Not a great result, but another day of learning this sport was in the bag. Max said he had sweep, so I hung out in the lodge staying warm waiting on my buds to come in. I also hit some of the booths and bought an avy dog hat to support the cause. Two Race Videos:

2011 Powder Keg

PCTV

Sunday was a great day skiing with my friends. Max pointed to an area near Wolverine where a popular Missoula area skier lost his life skiing for a movie. It was 59 degrees during the ride out of the Big Cottonwood Canyon. Max pointed out Gobbler's and some of the other local A/T terrain. He mentioned this year has not (thus far) been as bad in UT for avalanche issues. We chatted about using the dog, and how it would be a very unique situation for the dog to be able to find someone buried, but still alive. It rarely happens and the dogs have mainly been used to recover bodies that did not have transceivers. Zak passed his Level A test the morning we arrived. Congratulations Zak and Max!

We closed out the weekend getting a lesson on how to tie salmon flies with elk hair. Someone may be coming up in June to float a favorite section. Thanks Kristen and Max! Good times.

How to find out if One's Rascals are Reading...

2011-03-14T16:30:00.003-06:00

So, Friday afternoon I'm driving down to the Big Cottonwood Canyon area for a randonee event and my buddy Todd (red jacket) e-mails me the above blast from the past. Probably somewhere in PA in the '70s. He mentioned that that was quite a "goggle gap" someone had going. Guess I'll find out if my kid's are reading the Sheephead posts!

Back to Granite Co.

2011-03-07T08:45:00.007-07:00

A highlight of the weekend was getting to know "Psycho," who we learned regularly patrols the roads around Georgetown in his John Deere pulling folks out who park a bit off the main road. In our case, at a popular sledding site. The Anaconda and Butte snowmobilers were great, getting us out in a snap. It was mentioned that Psycho was truly his last name. A little beer money donated, and we were back to our sledding!The above owl (top) did not seem to mind us a bit as he patrolled the frozen lake. Amazing creatures, owls. We also saw a heron fishing in an area not fully frozen. Ran into TNRer's Bob and Aaron enjoying the back side of Disco and got a run in with Bob. Lots of folks over there from Missoula this past weekend partaking in the good snow. Someone mentioned that folks were downloaded off of the Griz lift Saturday. Guess we missed that.

Beehive

2011-02-27T19:35:00.011-07:00

Always a beautiful site, I had to first post a shot of Lone Peak. The Bozeman paper mentioned that the base was about 58 inches. The significant recent winds did blow out some of the coverage exposing some rocks below Challenger and along the face of the peak; however, conditions are generally quite nice. The patroller's were selling Avy dog t-shirts this year to raise funds for their program. We picked one up. Saturday evening I managed to get a few laps in along the Beehive trail area. The trailhead's parking lot was totally full with folks taking advantage of great b/c conditions. A couple coming out asked me if I was trying to get a running start to climb the road I had just driven down to the trailhead. I stated I was trying to find a place to park and ended up getting their spot, not registering the significance of their comment. No four wheel drive this weekend.

This is a really nice area that will hopefully be revisited again in the future. There are opportunities for nice touring along high ridge lines, as well as plenty of good terrain on the down. I managed some quick laps in a lower area on the trail, once again just prior to dark. I think the trailhead road was 2505. On the second attempt driving out, I managed to make it back to the top. It was a tad icy.

Elk are Back

2011-02-20T17:54:00.002-07:00

How many folks have the good fortune to look out their back door and see such a healthy herd? I need a better camera. These elk (South Hills area) are going to catch up with the Mt. Jumbo herd shortly. Wonderful.

Ah, Sunday

2011-02-20T06:40:00.009-07:00

The milk in the Joe this morning tastes just fine. Looking at that cup has me thinking of Oregon and the Puff. Love Sunday's fresh java.

So, the week of February 14th, 2011, will be remembered as the week a couple of good friends went to their maker. I quit skiing for almost twenty years and picked it back up when my oldest was able to strap on a couple of boards. When I came back to the sport, my old long skinny Blizzard jobs (great skis by the way) were a touch out of date, still with straps no less. So, I bought some strange things by Volkl called AC4s. These were the older, flat AC4s, that allowed the binding of one's choice. I put on some Looks (which ironically in the 80s were the choice to avoid). Those skis went through anything, anywhere, anytime. Strong. A little heavy in the air and a tad stiff in the bumps, but I loved them. They were down to one edge each, and I had snapped the rear binding out twice. This week was the third time watching a ski snake down lower Chicken chute while I held the binding in my hand. My friend's son, from Portland, managed to stop it. So, it was time to say goodbye to a great pair of skis. Too bad Volkl's present edition does not allow for the bindings of one's choice, as I'd stay with their powerhouse ski.

I remembered some skis that my son had seen earlier in the year sitting in a dark corner of a local store that had been marked down significantly. I think they are 2007, Atomics (Sweet Daddy's). They will probably be a little softer and lighter, but that also may not be a bad thing. We'll let you know. The Looks survive for another round. Hope the screws hold.
"I'm at the coffee shop waiting on Dave, who is coming down. We're skinning up Sheep today if you want to come." I was reading an e-mail from a friend while riding up the Griz lift. "Rats" I responded. "Have fun." As it turned out, my two youngest took me to spots still unknown throughout the day. How can one beat that?

More Climbs

2011-02-17T08:19:00.002-07:00

Managed to get in five last night. After first two, the skins were not sticking to the base, however. Another sport with "mechanical" issues... Something fun to do while rascals are doing their thing. A trip to see Max may be in the works! Going to need some new glue, Max.

Good Training Post

2011-02-17T05:51:00.003-07:00

As usual, the rowers have posted another interesting topic.

Busted Exercising at Granddaughter's Race

2011-02-16T06:59:00.006-07:00

I caught this article reading Lou's site and I have to say it resonated with the old traveling race parent! Pretty funny.

Mid-Feb. Check

2011-02-15T14:09:00.003-07:00

Getting pretty close to where I want to be for this time of year. Some long rides and some additional climbing should do the trick and bring things down a bit further.

Exploring near Neihart

2011-02-13T18:20:00.014-07:00

Saturday I found a moment to escape Showdown and venture into the unknown. From the top of the little resort hill, I looked towards the small town of Neihart and decided I would see if I could find a route into the two clearly visible mountains.

Driving over and through Neihart towards Great Falls, I was not able to locate an access route, so I turned back around and headed back to where I had seen the Memorial Fall's trail head sign and decided to head into the the lower drainage and make my way up to a ridge line which may eventually hit what I now know as Baldy Mtn.

I had a nice visit with some local snowshoers who indicated that the creek would wind eventually to the points I had seen from the resort. This area has had a lot of snow. It's not too far away from where I sometimes antelope hunt. The elk were not along the Little Belts this year, though I usually see a few around.

One of the reasons I went for this trail head was that there were no sleds. This area, Hwy 89 from White Sulphur to Neihart, is loaded with machines on both sides of the main hill. After the very brief hike to the falls, the woods were totally still. No animal or human sign. The snow was heavy and deep. Booting became an issue, so I skinned up through the trees keeping my poles softly on the surface as they would otherwise sink to below their grips.
I realized I was not going to have time to get much done as the start was late. I had all of the usual safety gear, but decided to keep this trip brief. The tree line started going at about 8,000 feet and the snow was severely wind blown on the south aspect.

The plan had been to attempt to get on the ridge to Baldy, but I had realized that it basically begins northeast of Neihart (taking Rock Creek). I knew I may be a bit too far southeast, probably one ridge over. Once almost on top, Long Mountain makes a simple connection to Baldy. I skied the trees, staying on Long due to time constraints. It was nice to learn some new country for future trips. It was interesting to note no machines in this section for some reason, though there are probably some less taxing ways in. Just above the trail head are F.S. roads going north with sled traffic which may loop into the upper area. This jaunt made for a very relaxing late afternoon.

More Bridger Fun

2011-01-30T20:37:00.023-07:00

Well, I'm not sure what it is with this event [Skin to Win], but this year once again we've just made the trip back to Missoula from Bridger in a snow storm. When we drove through tonight, it was two plows in each West bound lane moving at 25 mph - but, we were moving. It was a bit too bad that the pounding was not Saturday night in Bozeman, but things still worked out fine. So, happily having a cab (after a lot of coffee driving home) and writing my first report since the summer mtb race in Butte.At some point I realized that the rando race was once again on a date when one of the rascal's had a race, so my friend Thad and I decided to give it another whirl this year. However, we decided to enter the pro [race] level this go 'round rather than the recreational. I managed to pick up some lighter gear, getting some advice from Max. I went for the 12 din bindings, which were not able to accommodate the shim for the used F1's I picked up from a racer [I believe] in CO. I skied a few times downhill at the 'bowl through things like tree chute w/o the front toe piece releasing; however, the night before the race, I duct taped in a temporary job that ended up making things stable under foot. Thad was going to do the race in his 181s, four buckle boots and heavy metal bindings. All guts, Thad!

A week out, we went to our standard spot for a Friday pre-race breakfast and I gave my teammate a long sleeved green and white. Neil gave us his nod of confidence and it was official, we were going in. The course for the pro division was the same as 2010 (see race reports tab for last year's map), after the initial skin from the Bridger Lodge and upper boot pack, head north to the boundary and drop into a couloir, boot back up part way, then skin up and south, then two more drops off of the ridge heading still south and skin back up and then at the southern most boundary, drop down to the bottom of the Slushman's lift without crossing under it, and then skate to the finish area.

Once again, the pre-race mandatory meeting was held at the Bozeman public library the night before the race. Doug, head of patrol for the hill, was great outlining the ins and outs of the routes and "do and don'ts." Such as Do have fun and Don't litter gel wrappers on the course. Or, don't run into each other. He got a pretty good laugh out of everyone with a comment about racer's preferring "goat's milk" to other beverages. This year we received a very nice locally knitted wool lid rather than a metal bottle. This was quickly swiped by my son, who was also in attendance and had a GS race the same day as the rando event. After the meeting Thad and I looked at each other and I said something like "Are we still up for this?" The slides of the drops were a bit sobering. "[censored] Yes, I drove over here from Missoula!" I did not get a lot of sleep Friday night. Typical race night jitters. Get the sleep two nights out and expect the night before a race to be subject. [Thad below booting up for a Sunday fun run - what it's all about].

Saturday morning the three of us headed to the hill after Thad came by the hotel to car pool up. At the lodge I had a half a cup o joe, which hit the spot since I took Friday off on the caffeine. I had a piece of bread and one pancake prior to the race. Like any other endurance event, I pounded a lot of water part of the day prior and the morning prior to the race. We did a few little climbs to warm up. This year I left the camera in the lodge during the event. It was a goofy feeling wearing cycling pants (spandex) with ski gear, but that's what I did. I had a small first aid kit in my pack, and electrolytes in a camel back. Hoping to keep the hose from freezing this year, I cut a hole in the toe area of a wool sock and duct taped the hose/sock to the inside of the shoulder strap, tucking the bite piece into my jersey. I knew this was wishful thinking and would still be purely subject to the elements. As it turned out, it was in the upper 30s and sunny - pure luck. A beautiful day to be out and about on the ridge.

It was a Le Man's start once again. After being sent and my getting to my skis, I fiddled around trying to get the toe piece into the dynafits, even though I had practiced this a bit and had drawn marks on the toe of the boots for where things went! I managed to catch up with part of the pack, but the leaders were pretty well ahead. Thad had a nice and smooth start. I recognized a GAS jersey in front of me and stayed behind this individual for most of the initial climb. Not too far below the boot pack area, I actually had a good visit for a bit with another Missoula racer, Shane. We spoke about some of the 'bowl skiers we both knew. We had to be to the base of the patrol's lift in 50 minutes. I was there in 41. Things had remained pretty mellow on the h/r this trip up, just at or below threshold. The rec division started about half way up and I believe at 08:30 as well. I recognized one of the "race parents" in the rec division and said "hello and great job" as I went by. She said hello as well. [Thad quickly took the below shot of the typical out of town Missoula tourist on Sunday morning].The racer's at the higher end of this event [and these events] are on 160s [I think the minimum allowed - as per the mandatory meeting discussion] that are skinny. Their dynafits [or equivalent] do not have brakes, and have one setting for the heel piece. I visited with a lady who was a serious racer in the Bridger lodge just prior to the awards at 14:00 and asked her about her carbon F1s. She thought they were great, except for on the downhill. The skins are basically mohair that have a stopper at the tip with a bungee cord and no rear connector to the end of the ski. Visiting again with another fellow who travels on the circuit, these skins work great until skinning up a side cut, getting on an edge, sliding backwards and having the skin peel up. At that point, one will need a strap to strap the rear of the skin down, or the race is over. For friends reading this who know nothing about this business, skins have a sticky substance on the base that sticks to the ski. When this becomes wet, or snow covered or cold or icy, the skin does not function well and a rear clip helps to keep things going - however, in a race, a rear clip equals more time during transitions. For me, I first have to loosen the rear clip, then flip the ski and release the forward clip and strip the skin from there. It works fine, just a tad slower.

Heading north on the ridge, I dropped off just enough on the skis to pass two or three racers who had passed me on the climb. Then I quickly removed the skis and booted across the last bit to the drop off. A patroller greeted me and explained quickly the two different routes into the couloir. I quickly bombed in and man, what a super nice descent. I had been up during the night worrying about this drop and now I realized it was pure steep fun. Carving snow the whole way down. The only spooky part was the lack of initial visibility to what was below [a common issue on the ridge]. I had been passed by many of the racers on the initial climb, but I was having a good time now on top and taking things in. The volunteers at the base of this drop, which ended near the top of one of the lifts, were very nice and I thanked them for volunteering. I tried to do this at each check point.

So, from here it was a boot pack again and then some difficult skinning after that to reach the top. The skinning was side hill with switchbacks. More than once I fell forward and skis slipped down behind me as I got too much on my edges and off of the skins. Also, the switchbacks were nerve wracking as it was steep and I did not look at what was below. I had my old cross country poles and they sank down into the snow often on the climbs. I held the upper hill pole at about the half way point to attempt to stabilize things.The water pack worked fine and I was watching my consumption hoping to maintain some still in the pack for deeper into the race. I ate only one gel just prior to the start, but did munch on some shot bloks along the way and a couple of endurolytes at one point. I stayed below threshold pretty much the whole route, being a bit conservative and safe. My only issues with this race were technical, such as transitions and some of the difficult side hill skinning. My start needed a little help. Knowing a bit more (about the sections of the course I had not been on) ahead of time would have been a smart idea.

The coverage on the ridge was tremendous this year. Last year going across the further points on the south end, I was on my hands climbing. This year, anticipating that again, I put the skis on the back of the pack only to watch a few locals pass me carrying their skis over their shoulder as they easily booted up the last few sections.

At the base of Slushman's I visited with someone who had DNFed and then I stupidly started to pull my skins out of my jersey for a moment not remembering that it was only a brief run or skate up the road to the point where one skates down the road and then briefly up again into the finish area. I visited with the check station volunteer there who said "you can run up this." Then I remembered the long road in the finish area and ran up the brief hill. Another racer I passed on the final descent to this area quickly skated up behind me, but I managed to use the old fiberglass nordic poles to press to the line. Two hours and fifty five minutes. 4th of 4 in age and 17 of 25 o/a. I was exhausted. However, I was extremely pleased to not see my partner yet at the finish, which meant he had made the initial cut off. Very soon, Thad came through the finish as well, with his heavy metal gear. Incredible! Thad mentioned after the initial climb, that he had started to regain while moving back southward.

I visited with some mtb friends in the finish area who had done numerous of these before and stated that they like them because these races are difficult. The finish area this year had excellent tomato soup and wraps! The race was very well organized and the course was well put together. Congratulations to Brandon, of Whitefish, who won the race, setting a new course record of just under two hours. He also was second at this year's Nationals.

Prior to the awards, I had a nice visit with a friendly racer from Oregon who indicated he had never been to a race with so much exposure on the mountain. Because of this he had decided to boot across the top of the ridge rather than ski some of the top sections. I attempted to gps the course along the way, but I kept slamming the garmin (in a shoulder strap pocket) off on some of the sections. Here is the Bridger Video and race page.My son had broken the zipper on his shell pants Saturday. He was a little down too on the alpine front, having a rough race weekend, so Thad loaned us his second beacon Sunday and knew the proper medicine to perk things up. I managed to get some batteries in the lower lodge and then we scooted quickly up two lifts to get to the base of Slushman's. We made pretty close to last chair to the ridge. I had just gotten a text from my wife, "You are on your way home, right? The highway is closed at Drummond and there is a blizzard in Missoula!" Once on top, in sweat pants and a cast on the right hand, he booted over to the southern boundary and smiled the whole way down!

Back in the Backyard

2011-01-23T06:45:00.009-07:00

My wife bought me the above J. Niehues print for Christmas. I have not framed it yet, but I like it a lot. It captures the hill quite well. Yesterday was the perfect day at the 'bowl. "It's good to be home." I said to friends who asked "Where have you been?" Two prior weekends away, one to a hill with little base (they'll get the spring snow) and another with a lot of fog, meant a homecoming to endorphins flowing dropping off little Cloud Nine for first run. Friday night's snow made for a delightful morning of fluff. Riding up the Griz with our youngest after lunch, I was asked if we could continue to make free runs after his practice. "Dad, I have to show you Windows! It's perfect." He was right, even late in the day it was!

The MST is having its most important annual fundraiser shortly. Info. here - Ball. Or, feel free to contact me for tickets.

Still Trekking

2011-01-20T08:24:00.004-07:00

Things are smoothing out a bit. Think I'm getting the water system to not freeze finally and transitions are easier in the daylight when I can actually see the toe piece. Almost got in a half of a fifth prior to p/u of rascals! Now, securing the skins on the descent so they don't freeze or fall out of the jersey and figuring out the shim issue? Getting there. Time to consult with friends in the know!

Contrast

2011-01-17T19:01:00.002-07:00

Prior to "first chair," skiers ascend the hill with skins in the rain Sunday morning in Whitefish.

Liver-Eating Johnston

2011-01-07T18:12:00.011-07:00

LR was given an assignment for extra credit by his history teacher while in Red Lodge last weekend. Visit Liver-Eating Johnston's cabin and bring back photos for colleagues. The former Red Lodge constable was a pretty rugged fellow, as noted above.
Following the killing of his Native American wife by the Crow Indians, Johnston [according to legend] is said to have eaten the liver of each man killed during a long campaign that followed against the tribe by Johnston. He became the constable of Red Lodge for a lengthy period. Johnston also served in his earlier days in the Union army during the Civil War. Born in New Jersey, Johnston (formally Johnson) died in California. For more on Johnston, see the work Crow Killer.
PS. While in Red Lodge, LR got to bomb down the mountain with some of the Rocky kids and learned a lot - to include that head wall's are hell on thumbs! Someone got a nifty new green cast!

Figuring Out a Few Things

2011-01-06T08:48:00.003-07:00

Thinking out loud again. Software is acting a little goofy at the moment again, but we're figuring a few things out none the less. Managed during kid's practice to get in a few climbing intervals during the evening, and also practice transitions. Since I'm generally interested in the outdoor experience, we continue to keep things light, not fully with a race emphasis. The skins remain basic, with clips on both ends. The bindings will not allow for the shim behind the toe piece for the used F1s I picked up; therefore, we are descending on our toes and heels! Duct tape may remedy this a bit (as usual). Two buckle boots? Delicate. Also, we continue to believe in brakes. Brakes do not help the twist test with rubber AT soles. Keeping water from freezing remains an issue. Experimenting further here as well. The shovel remains metal. Going to go with the bicycle attire (hoping to avoid the ponds in the boots). Should be fun!

Ghost in the Garage

2011-01-02T07:45:00.005-07:00

What a nice bro. Waxing little bro and sister's race skis in a frigid garage. Of course, not the old man's though! Something may be wrong here?