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grrgoylThis week's adventure took place at Golden Gate State Park, accompanied by MyFriendDeb. Her idea was for her to hike (she has an ancient touring bike that isn't even roadworthy for pavement, never mind off-roading) while I biked. It didn't sound terribly appealing to me at first, but ended up working out pretty well -- even though biking with Deb walking a half mile behind me felt a little like we were fighting or something.
I won't bore you with too many details, since these adventures, while thrilling for me to experience, might not be as enthralling to read about over and over. I will say this is my second favorite trail so far, after the Audubon Loop, before Elk Meadow and WAY before Deer Creek.
Obligatory self-portrait. Still wearing the Adidas. Also the shades were completely unnecessary, it turned out
It's mostly double-track, as in two wheel ruts, all the way up the mountain. Pushed some of the way but pedaled the rest, having discovered how much easier it is to granny gear it -- every trip teaches me something new.
Plenty rocky but most of it loose, not the mini Walls of Shame I'm used to. Sandy or hard-packed earth in between. Up was not as strenuous as I'm used to, which made the down twice as fun -- enough of a grade to coast, but still gentle enough to not feel like I was barely in control.
Today had an extra quality to it that made it easier: it was overcast all day, threatening to rain. We didn't mind since it meant there was no one else in the park, even though it was an "all parks free" day (we didn't realize this until we got to the visitor's center). Plus we're in the delightful part of summer, where every day starts out clear and bright, but then the ominous clouds roll in; which is annoying because only about 50% of the time does it ever actually rain, and I have an uncanny knack of picking the wrong 50% of days to thumb my nose at Mother Nature.
Ominous Clouds
Consequently, without the sun beating down on me all day I didn't even finish one bottle of water, and could have gone much farther up the mountain if Deb hadn't gotten tired.
There was this tiny little historical landmark nestled in the mountains
Very Blair Witchian on the inside...
But how's that for a front yard?
I'm in love with the cross process button this week
I took a little video to show how quiet it was up there. 30 seconds later Deb came tromping along and made a liar out of me. I'm all squinty because the light on my phone is blinding me. Also, my disdain for hikers is written all over my face.
It was at this spot that I took off down a lovely bit of singletrack, my spirit soaring. It wasn't until I reached the bottom that I noticed feeling particularly free and breezy -- because I had left my helmet back at the top. D: I hiked back to retrieve it, because no way in hell am I abandoning a $40 helmet on the mountain.
Having done it both ways, I have to say I decidedly prefer biking to hiking, even when it involves pushing Rogue MT up a mountain.
It started spitting rain on the way down. I don't care if I get wet, I'm just worried about Rogue's chain getting rusty. So at first I stopped and huddled under a tree, trying my best to shield her. When it showed no signs of stopping, I realized the path was only getting muddier and I had better get my ass down it.
We both made it to the bottom fairly quickly (Deb walks surprisingly fast when she wants to, especially downhill). We ate our picnic lunch under a huge stand of pine trees that kept 95% of the rain off us. When we packed to leave, it was with huge sadness that I strapped Rogue to the trunk of my car, fully exposed to the downpour. It was like making my cat ride back there or something. I would have just crammed her into the backseat if she wasn't already too wet and muddy.
We were so cold and wet I cranked the heat on the way home. Crazy Colorado summers.
My point is, if there's a sign for it, it can't be that forgotten. Also take note: Trails named after animals were unavoidable this time, though fortunately somewhat easier
Aspens. Beautiful and interesting looking
~*~
The real adventure of this post was Tery's. Sunday she did her first triathlon! Tri for the Cure. I couldn't be prouder of her.
I'm putting this before the cut because it's my favorite of the bunch
Tery's sister had prepared this big package, signs and pics of the whole family holding them. It gave her just the morale boost she needed (and Logan helped)
Haha, Tery snuck a photo of my boyfriend from Bicycle Village. We call him Tim (from his nametag) Cera, because he's got that geek chic going on like Michael Cera. Whenever he rings me up he makes a big deal of remembering my last name, which if you know what it is is no mean feat. Yeah, he totally wants me.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the race.
I was working the night before, but she wanted me to leave early so I wouldn't be quite so grumpy on her big day. This worked out well as the construction crew at the hospital was doing major demolition work and I couldn't bear being there a full 8 hours anyway.
Tery was stressed enough. Then our neighbors, who have a huge party about once a month throughout the summer, chose that night for another. They invite like 50 people, most of whom end up milling about in the stairwell and all over the grounds, which drives Tery crazy. It's no picnic for me either, but I just have to pick my way through them and then drive off to the hospital and forget about them.
She kept calling me with status reports, how she could still hear them through closed windows with the AC turned on. I said they weren't breaking any rules until after 10 pm, and promised to intervene if they were still at it when I came home at midnight. I told her to listen to some music on headphones or something. It's not every day I'm the one talking her down from frothing-at-the-mouth rage, although I understood completely.
When I came home the number of guests had diminished, but those left were sitting out on the balcony chatting and laughing as if it were high noon. This is what they do, usually still sitting there when I come home at 5 am. It's highly inconsiderate, but it can't possibly bother us as much as people living across from them, or above them.
I would have spoken up, but when I went inside Tery seemed to be asleep thankfully, so I went to bed too.
Next morning. Big day! Tery was up puttering around and I reluctantly joined her, packing sundries and things not related to her gear. She thought her front tire was a little flat so tried pumping it up. To both our surprise, the valve snapped clean off in her hand.
So now the whole tube had to be changed, when we should have been walking out the door. I'm a whiz at my own tires, but her fancy schmancy racing bike has these impossibly thin tires that are a bit trickier. Hell, I couldn't even figure out how to unhook her brake cables to get the tire off.
Pit crew of one. Two if you count Logan, which I don't because he was even less help figuring out her bike
We eventually muddled through, however. Tery chose to see it as a blessing in disguise; if it had happened during the race, it would have been all over for her. It took us a good 20 minutes to get it changed.
Despite the race being right across the street in Cherry Creek Park, Tery got the impression it would be closed to bike traffic, so we had to pack up the car and drive up an exit and double back. Stupid. Tons of other cars of course. Then about a 15-minute hike into the park from the lot.
Long story short, Tery made it into the "athletes area" with only minutes to spare before she had to line up to swim.
The race from my perspective wasn't very exciting, mainly because I was trying to work out where she was at any given time so I could capture crucial video and photo footage. Fortunately the camcorder's battery died before she even got into the water, making one less duty for me (she had the whole week to make sure it was charged up, so it wasn't my fault).
I did have plenty of time to stare at this cop while waiting for her to transition to her bike. He was on hand in case of any shenanigans, which you would totally expect at an event full of women cheering and crying and hugging each other. It was a hotbed of crime.
Move along, nothing to see here ladies
He became fixated on a bike that had been chained to the fence. "Well, this can't stay here," he would announce to anyone passing by. Bikes chained to fences: The biggest, yet least publicized, threat to American security.
Anyway. Tery made it out of the water and onto the bike. Then our friend Becca called me. She hadn't been sure if she would make it, she comes in Sunday mornings after me to feed and walk the dogs, but she was going to try. Bless her, she went to the hospital, raced through her duties (only four dogs boarding, not a lot of work), and tore across town to get there. She forgot her cell phone and was calling me from strangers' borrowed phones (she said the only guy that wasn't so eager to help her out had an iPhone. Go figure).
So Becca hooked up with me and kept me company. We staked out a spot right in front of the finish line and chatted. We were so engrossed in our chatting we worried that we had missed Tery.
Crossing the finish line! (in blue)
She not only finished, she ran the whole way, which wasn't a given for everyone -- this was no Iron Man. There were all levels of fitness represented, from the "elites" to an obese woman we saw strolling along chatting on her cell phone for the running portion. Tery loved how informal and supportive it was -- most women weren't competing each other, just hoping to finish, like Tery.
By that time the heat was quite oppressive and we all gladly headed home. Tery and I crashed and napped for most of the afternoon. Later she wouldn't stop thanking me for going to see her, as if I could get away with lounging in bed all morning and sleepily asking how her first triathlon went when she got home. I'm selfish, but not THAT selfish.
Unfortunately, some people are. Like Ryan, who knew she was doing the race. Maybe not exactly when, but he knew what a big deal it was. So Tuesday I emailed him inviting him to keep me company (I was worried about staying awake). He begged off with the same excuse he's been using for a month now -- "working on the condo" (still remodeling it for renting/selling, even though he still lives in a shitty neighborhood; I keep telling him he can fill it with Travertine tile and granite countertops, but no one is going to pay him his asking price to live on that ghetto of a street. It sucks, but that's life). Even when I pointed out it was only two hours, would be over by 9 a.m. Nope, working on the condo.
Which I wouldn't have minded if he hadn't turned around and invited us to a barbecue Saturday afternoon. Plenty of time to sit around getting drunk with John and his loser friends. Two hours to support Tery while she achieves possibly the greatest goal of her life? Sorry. Unfortunately she can only do her first triathlon once (in fact I had to nag her into wearing her little medal she won to work on Monday. "Today's your only chance," I pointed out. "If you wear it after today you'll just look like a smug asshole.")
I cut him a little slack considering it was sort of last minute when I emailed him. I also noticed him ominously dropping the pronoun "we" into the conversation, clearly assuming (wrongfully) that John was invited. I would be happier alone than hanging out with him and John.
The day of, could he spare 30 seconds just to text and check in? Sorry. Though I strongly suspect Sunday was not spent "working on the condo" so much as sleeping off a hangover.
I'd have been happy with a short email Monday, "How did Tery do?" Or even Tuesday. Or even a quick comment on Tery's Facebook. Yet here we arethree four days later and all I've gotten from him are mass forwarded email jokes, which don't qualify as communication.
Revenge is a dish best served cold, but I may get it warmer than expected. Rumor has it he and John are considering a commitment ceremony. Because that will magically solve all their problems like marriage has for 50% of straight couples in America who are now divorced. Tery and I will be unable to attend; we're working on the condo.
Apropos of nothing, this here is my new favorite song, yo. My everlasting gratitude to whoever can find it as an mp3 (disregard. Found!):
I won't bore you with too many details, since these adventures, while thrilling for me to experience, might not be as enthralling to read about over and over. I will say this is my second favorite trail so far, after the Audubon Loop, before Elk Meadow and WAY before Deer Creek.
Obligatory self-portrait. Still wearing the Adidas. Also the shades were completely unnecessary, it turned out
It's mostly double-track, as in two wheel ruts, all the way up the mountain. Pushed some of the way but pedaled the rest, having discovered how much easier it is to granny gear it -- every trip teaches me something new.
Plenty rocky but most of it loose, not the mini Walls of Shame I'm used to. Sandy or hard-packed earth in between. Up was not as strenuous as I'm used to, which made the down twice as fun -- enough of a grade to coast, but still gentle enough to not feel like I was barely in control.
Today had an extra quality to it that made it easier: it was overcast all day, threatening to rain. We didn't mind since it meant there was no one else in the park, even though it was an "all parks free" day (we didn't realize this until we got to the visitor's center). Plus we're in the delightful part of summer, where every day starts out clear and bright, but then the ominous clouds roll in; which is annoying because only about 50% of the time does it ever actually rain, and I have an uncanny knack of picking the wrong 50% of days to thumb my nose at Mother Nature.
Ominous Clouds
Consequently, without the sun beating down on me all day I didn't even finish one bottle of water, and could have gone much farther up the mountain if Deb hadn't gotten tired.
There was this tiny little historical landmark nestled in the mountains
Very Blair Witchian on the inside...
But how's that for a front yard?
I'm in love with the cross process button this week
I took a little video to show how quiet it was up there. 30 seconds later Deb came tromping along and made a liar out of me. I'm all squinty because the light on my phone is blinding me. Also, my disdain for hikers is written all over my face.
It was at this spot that I took off down a lovely bit of singletrack, my spirit soaring. It wasn't until I reached the bottom that I noticed feeling particularly free and breezy -- because I had left my helmet back at the top. D: I hiked back to retrieve it, because no way in hell am I abandoning a $40 helmet on the mountain.
Having done it both ways, I have to say I decidedly prefer biking to hiking, even when it involves pushing Rogue MT up a mountain.
It started spitting rain on the way down. I don't care if I get wet, I'm just worried about Rogue's chain getting rusty. So at first I stopped and huddled under a tree, trying my best to shield her. When it showed no signs of stopping, I realized the path was only getting muddier and I had better get my ass down it.
We both made it to the bottom fairly quickly (Deb walks surprisingly fast when she wants to, especially downhill). We ate our picnic lunch under a huge stand of pine trees that kept 95% of the rain off us. When we packed to leave, it was with huge sadness that I strapped Rogue to the trunk of my car, fully exposed to the downpour. It was like making my cat ride back there or something. I would have just crammed her into the backseat if she wasn't already too wet and muddy.
We were so cold and wet I cranked the heat on the way home. Crazy Colorado summers.
My point is, if there's a sign for it, it can't be that forgotten. Also take note: Trails named after animals were unavoidable this time, though fortunately somewhat easier
Aspens. Beautiful and interesting looking
~*~
The real adventure of this post was Tery's. Sunday she did her first triathlon! Tri for the Cure. I couldn't be prouder of her.
I'm putting this before the cut because it's my favorite of the bunch
Tery's sister had prepared this big package, signs and pics of the whole family holding them. It gave her just the morale boost she needed (and Logan helped)
Haha, Tery snuck a photo of my boyfriend from Bicycle Village. We call him Tim (from his nametag) Cera, because he's got that geek chic going on like Michael Cera. Whenever he rings me up he makes a big deal of remembering my last name, which if you know what it is is no mean feat. Yeah, he totally wants me.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the race.
I was working the night before, but she wanted me to leave early so I wouldn't be quite so grumpy on her big day. This worked out well as the construction crew at the hospital was doing major demolition work and I couldn't bear being there a full 8 hours anyway.
Tery was stressed enough. Then our neighbors, who have a huge party about once a month throughout the summer, chose that night for another. They invite like 50 people, most of whom end up milling about in the stairwell and all over the grounds, which drives Tery crazy. It's no picnic for me either, but I just have to pick my way through them and then drive off to the hospital and forget about them.
She kept calling me with status reports, how she could still hear them through closed windows with the AC turned on. I said they weren't breaking any rules until after 10 pm, and promised to intervene if they were still at it when I came home at midnight. I told her to listen to some music on headphones or something. It's not every day I'm the one talking her down from frothing-at-the-mouth rage, although I understood completely.
When I came home the number of guests had diminished, but those left were sitting out on the balcony chatting and laughing as if it were high noon. This is what they do, usually still sitting there when I come home at 5 am. It's highly inconsiderate, but it can't possibly bother us as much as people living across from them, or above them.
I would have spoken up, but when I went inside Tery seemed to be asleep thankfully, so I went to bed too.
Next morning. Big day! Tery was up puttering around and I reluctantly joined her, packing sundries and things not related to her gear. She thought her front tire was a little flat so tried pumping it up. To both our surprise, the valve snapped clean off in her hand.
So now the whole tube had to be changed, when we should have been walking out the door. I'm a whiz at my own tires, but her fancy schmancy racing bike has these impossibly thin tires that are a bit trickier. Hell, I couldn't even figure out how to unhook her brake cables to get the tire off.
Pit crew of one. Two if you count Logan, which I don't because he was even less help figuring out her bike
We eventually muddled through, however. Tery chose to see it as a blessing in disguise; if it had happened during the race, it would have been all over for her. It took us a good 20 minutes to get it changed.
Despite the race being right across the street in Cherry Creek Park, Tery got the impression it would be closed to bike traffic, so we had to pack up the car and drive up an exit and double back. Stupid. Tons of other cars of course. Then about a 15-minute hike into the park from the lot.
Long story short, Tery made it into the "athletes area" with only minutes to spare before she had to line up to swim.
The race from my perspective wasn't very exciting, mainly because I was trying to work out where she was at any given time so I could capture crucial video and photo footage. Fortunately the camcorder's battery died before she even got into the water, making one less duty for me (she had the whole week to make sure it was charged up, so it wasn't my fault).
I did have plenty of time to stare at this cop while waiting for her to transition to her bike. He was on hand in case of any shenanigans, which you would totally expect at an event full of women cheering and crying and hugging each other. It was a hotbed of crime.
Move along, nothing to see here ladies
He became fixated on a bike that had been chained to the fence. "Well, this can't stay here," he would announce to anyone passing by. Bikes chained to fences: The biggest, yet least publicized, threat to American security.
Anyway. Tery made it out of the water and onto the bike. Then our friend Becca called me. She hadn't been sure if she would make it, she comes in Sunday mornings after me to feed and walk the dogs, but she was going to try. Bless her, she went to the hospital, raced through her duties (only four dogs boarding, not a lot of work), and tore across town to get there. She forgot her cell phone and was calling me from strangers' borrowed phones (she said the only guy that wasn't so eager to help her out had an iPhone. Go figure).
So Becca hooked up with me and kept me company. We staked out a spot right in front of the finish line and chatted. We were so engrossed in our chatting we worried that we had missed Tery.
Crossing the finish line! (in blue)
She not only finished, she ran the whole way, which wasn't a given for everyone -- this was no Iron Man. There were all levels of fitness represented, from the "elites" to an obese woman we saw strolling along chatting on her cell phone for the running portion. Tery loved how informal and supportive it was -- most women weren't competing each other, just hoping to finish, like Tery.
By that time the heat was quite oppressive and we all gladly headed home. Tery and I crashed and napped for most of the afternoon. Later she wouldn't stop thanking me for going to see her, as if I could get away with lounging in bed all morning and sleepily asking how her first triathlon went when she got home. I'm selfish, but not THAT selfish.
Unfortunately, some people are. Like Ryan, who knew she was doing the race. Maybe not exactly when, but he knew what a big deal it was. So Tuesday I emailed him inviting him to keep me company (I was worried about staying awake). He begged off with the same excuse he's been using for a month now -- "working on the condo" (still remodeling it for renting/selling, even though he still lives in a shitty neighborhood; I keep telling him he can fill it with Travertine tile and granite countertops, but no one is going to pay him his asking price to live on that ghetto of a street. It sucks, but that's life). Even when I pointed out it was only two hours, would be over by 9 a.m. Nope, working on the condo.
Which I wouldn't have minded if he hadn't turned around and invited us to a barbecue Saturday afternoon. Plenty of time to sit around getting drunk with John and his loser friends. Two hours to support Tery while she achieves possibly the greatest goal of her life? Sorry. Unfortunately she can only do her first triathlon once (in fact I had to nag her into wearing her little medal she won to work on Monday. "Today's your only chance," I pointed out. "If you wear it after today you'll just look like a smug asshole.")
I cut him a little slack considering it was sort of last minute when I emailed him. I also noticed him ominously dropping the pronoun "we" into the conversation, clearly assuming (wrongfully) that John was invited. I would be happier alone than hanging out with him and John.
The day of, could he spare 30 seconds just to text and check in? Sorry. Though I strongly suspect Sunday was not spent "working on the condo" so much as sleeping off a hangover.
I'd have been happy with a short email Monday, "How did Tery do?" Or even Tuesday. Or even a quick comment on Tery's Facebook. Yet here we are
Revenge is a dish best served cold, but I may get it warmer than expected. Rumor has it he and John are considering a commitment ceremony. Because that will magically solve all their problems like marriage has for 50% of straight couples in America who are now divorced. Tery and I will be unable to attend; we're working on the condo.
Apropos of nothing, this here is my new favorite song, yo. My everlasting gratitude to whoever can find it as an mp3 (disregard. Found!):