Base miles...

It is so hard for me to just get out and ride some miles without trying to plan a big ascent, or hook up with a singletrack diversion, or stop waaaaay too often to take pictures. It's what keeps me from getting as much mileage as I would like, and what leads to a certain kind of over-training: too many moderate/short rides at high intensity. Big fun factor, but no active recovery, and no base, so big pain.

At least recently... pain that just won't seem to stretch away. I decided it was time to dial back the intensity meter again, and (try to) be a roadie for some active recovery and easy base miles. Just keep the pedals turning. It will be easy. And boring.

We rode out of Missoula down MT200 and then headed South on Old Hwy 10. Got just past Turah and then turned around.

30 miles of relatively flat pavement. 14mph average speed. 1 stop. No pictures. Headwind. Coffee and scones at City Brew.

Julian says that next time we should go to Blue Mountain. I'm inclined to agree.

Sundaze...

Yeah. Two whole days of sunny and warm. I was feeling like I was under the influence of some psychedelic substance. Starting to get tan lines after 2 days of sun... that's how dark it has been this winter.

So what better to do than sit around on the front porch, soak up the sunlight, sip some cold beverages, and grill?

She wanted a picture of me grilling... I'm confused as to why.

So I took a picture of her grilling.
Then I ran to chase down soccer balls for the kids.

And helped Julian climb a tree.

Everyone was relaxed, happy, warm, and enjoying a day where we could have fun outside and not really go anywhere. Feeling very good about this. The clouds rolled in, rain started overnight, and it is supposed to continue through the week. Snow on the hilltops this morning. It will be May next week, and Spring is bound to get a foothold sooner or later. 

The sweet spot...

It is a challenge for me. Finding it, that is. If I ride solo, I want to go as fast and as hard as I am physically capable. If we go riding as a family, I want everyone to enjoy themselves and push the limits just a little. There is a "sweet spot" where any more would be too much for a family outing, and any less would just leave me - and possibly everyone else - wanting more. Today was about finding that sweet spot.

We started off down the Kim Williams and ran straight into a bike race. The roadies with the narrow tires and the deep-dish composite wheels were out in force. We dodged runners for a while, and then headed straight up Deer Creek Rd.

This ascent is steady and not too difficult for everyone.
Views from near the top aren't too bad either.

Rene doing his best to keep a positive attitude while working hard.

Melissa made a butterfly friend.

The plan was to get to Pattee Canyon Rec Area, ride some trails in the Southside network, and then hook up with Crazy Canyon. A secondary objective of this ride was to scope out trail conditions in the Pattee area. Result? Trails are not quite ready to ride, and we checked out a few different loops. Next month will bring some great riding in this area, I'm sure.

We crossed the road and headed up Crazy Canyon. This is a not-so-steep jeep road that climbs to the top of Mt. Sentinel (5000 ft.)... we had no intention of making it to the top on this ride, but to hook up with Crooked Trail and MoZ to get back into town. 

We rode down the steep switchbacks dodging trees.
Lots of cyclists climbing up, too.

Crooked Trail bursts out of the trees, and crosses the wide open space on
the southwest flank of Mt. Sentinel

Tired, but happy riders.

Once we got off the mountain (that last bit is pretty darn steep!), we headed at a leisurely pace through the University District, headed downtown, and were quickly caught in the gravitational pull of the Bridge pizza.

Remains of post-ride nutrition.

All in all, a great way to spend a Saturday with the family. The weather was sunny and warm, and we found ourselves not quite heading home until almost 7pm. A long day, but not an overly hard day. We are all tires, but better for the experience, and I'm just very happy to have hit the sweet spot one more time.

21.5 miles. 2000 feet of climbing.

Convergence

That indescribable feeling when countless things come together to produce an experience. A sunny day. A smiling child. Steep, heavily wooded canyons. The desire to climb them. Springtime. Single speed bicycle. Zone 4 heart rate. Rushing creeks. Eerie silences. High speed descents. Laughter.

I wanted a hard day. I wanted to get home and not be able to walk. I wanted 3000+ feet of climbing, fast. Obliteration of all the mental driftwood. Today was a good lesson. We don't always get exactly what we want.

Low snow line... still. Julian has a limited tolerance for sitting on road rides. Give the kid a mountain trail, and I'm sure he would ride almost all day... but watching Dad grunt up the side of the road just isn't that entertaining. I needed to pack in some climbing by doing laps, with relatively little mileage. I decided on Pattee Canyon Rd. Ride up, ride down... repeat. I figured I might get away with two laps, and appease Julian with some hiking. That's pretty much what happened.

The climbs were difficult. I went out too fast on the first one and got burned by the 10% grade near the Rec Area gate. Stayed on the bike and toughed it out. The weight of the trailer and Julian made the 34x18 gearing a questionable choice. Made the first 1000 feet of climbing, turned around, and rode back to the bottom.

This is always the least enjoyable part for me. I just worked up a killer full body readiness to do MORE... and now I get to sit on the bike while it does 25mph down the road all by itself. YAWN. 

Purple mountains majesty.
The pointy one is Squaw Peak or Cha-pa-qnn or Sleeping Woman
or whatever the hell they call it these days. 

The climb back up was better. I paced myself a little more, the pathways were all open, and everything was firing in a coordinated fashion. I did reach the Sammy B TH ready to NOT do a third lap.... Okay... actually, I probably could have, but Julian had other ideas, and I didn't have the strength to disagree.

We decided to check out the condition of the Southside Trails since we were there and didn't see snow all over like we did the last time we were here. Overall, I was surprised at how dry they were. I winced in a couple spots as my tires left tracks in a soft section. We turned around pretty quickly. Should be firm enough to ride in a few weeks, depending on the weather.

See? Trail = Happy Kid.

We turned around, not wanting to damage the trail by riding on.

A quick descent down to the road, and we stopped at the Crazy Canyon TH for some nutrition and to let J stretch his legs and hike around. We hiked further than I thought we would.

(A little over a mile on some fairly steep trails is pretty far is you're 3, I'm guessing.)

Up the hills.

We totally need to do more hiking.

Conditions on Crazy Canyon were pretty good too. A few sections of mud, some water running in places. But the surface was firm and draining well.

Fortunately, only one spot, about 25 feet long, looked like this. 

This picture does nothing to relate how green it was.
I swear it was turning the air green. Enchanted forest.

We headed back to the bikes, and logged 20 miles and 2250 vertical feet biking and hiking around.

The forest was beautiful, my legs felt pretty cooked, and that mental driftwood I was talking about wanting to get rid of? It had a proper viking funeral and was duly incinerated on the ocean of effort required to achieve this much enjoyment.

Mission accomplished.

Sometimes it DOES all come together.

It LOOKS like a couple of boring road climbs and some screwing off.
Okay... so that's pretty accurate. But... I guess you had to be there.

PS:

I like this sign so much, I thought it deserved a repost.
Respect.

PPS: On the way back home, I realized how sensitive I was to the traffic.. There seemed to be so much of it. Maybe its just me. The more time I spend riding out of town, in the woods, the more hyper-aware of traffic I get. It is the hazard of its own kind of wilderness. In the woods I might watch my footing, make some noise to avoid startling a bear... I prepare... I know what the dangers are. In the city, these dangers are different, and they are everywhere, and they move fast. It is so LOUD that I am running on sensory overload and adrenaline, navigating the grid, attempting to flow through... I tell myself that it is just another kind of wilderness... what a stark difference from the place we just left.

Sunday Blue Mountain Ride

Everyone was up early on a Sunday. The promise of great riding and maybe even decent weather right on the other side of breakfast. The whole family was finally going to be able to make it out together to ride some dirt. It almost didn't happen. We rode out of our parking lot and down the street to see snow falling over the mountains.... the mountains we wanted to go ride on.

Fortunately, things are not always what they seem in the valley, and the weather can change fast. And it did, for the better. By the time we arrived at the East Blue Mountain TH, the sun was out and the wind was gone. Time to climb.

The crew after climbing up to the 6.03 trailhead.

It flurried on us briefly, but it was kind of refreshing after the climb, and everyone was happy to start the long winding descent.

A maze of flowing singletrack awaited us.

Somewhere down on 3.04 I had my first Bill Martin sighting. Apparently he was out getting 10,000 feet of vertical in for the day. He came up behind us, and I suppose we probably slowed him down considerably while we found a suitable spot to pull off and let him by. We still haven't met formally, but I figure that I will show up at one of the TNR rides soon enough... maybe without the 60 pounds of "training weight" that is usually attached to my bike.

It was a beautiful day in the woods, and plenty of other people felt the same way. I've never seen so many smiling faces... no... BEAMING faces on the trails.  Even the forest itself was bright, colorful, and full of birdsong.

I love the moss hanging on the trees.

This season is starting to shape up nicely. Spring has sprung, and even Melissa is getting out for some recreational rides - a change of pace from her usual commute.

The boys were both tired, so after consuming copious quantities of chinese food, they were off to an afternoon nap... something that doesn't sound like a bad idea at the moment.

---

Turning the wheel...

Cycles.

The ancients were acutely aware of the nature of the world around them. How it moved. How we fit into it. The seasons, the moon, the stars in the sky, even life itself moved in cycles. This knowledge gave some assurance of the unknown future, gave people a place in the universe, and people focussed more on where they were, than where they were going.

In a modern world where we are often so focussed on linear, goal-oriented thinking. We are so preoccupied with where we are going that we often lose sight of where we are right now. Viewing the broader context is key to overcoming this narrow view. What is my place in all of this? Somehow I fit perfectly into this seemingly random and infinitely complex clockwork, but I'm not sure how.

Yes, you must hurry to get to work. From your house, to your job. Quick now. Don't be late. But your journey does not stop there. It will bring you back to your house at the end of the day, and you will arrive where you began.

When we leave the house on one of our long bike rides, my oldest son often asks where we are going. Sometimes I tell him "Right here." We leave, we return. It is the nature of things.

In the mind arise many such things. Premise, rationale, argument, consideration, conclusion. Also worry. Worry caused by fear of not knowing precisely where this all going. Worry less. It is all going right back where it began.

Take whatever route you like. The hurried, direct, fast paced route. The winding scenic route. You can only inhabit whatever moment you have right now. You can choose the outward appearance of this moment, but not its nature.

Its nature is movement. Its nature is cyclic.

Its nature is that of going and coming back again.

Everywhere you look, everywhere you go, everything is cycling...
on two wheels or not.

Cycles.

Embracing the inner roadie...

The first thing I noticed when I woke up this morning was the bluebird skies. The second was the vestigial soreness from my last couple of rides. I decided that I needed to ride, needed to get out in the sunshine, and Julian DEFINITELY needed to get out of the house, but I didn't want to do anything too strenuous. I needed a mellow ride. I needed a road ride, spinning for a couple hours without a big mountain to climb.

Now, I am not a very good roadie. I can't seem to keep a cadence for more than 5 miles without stopping to take a picture of something or dart off on some dirt side track. I find myself getting bored easily, evidenced by thoughts like "Aabear Lane is kind of an amusing street name" ... right. In the end, we only made 26 miles in 2 hours, headed east out MT-200 toward Potomac. It is a very pretty stretch of road, and the wind blows in all directions simultaneously due to the local topography.

We started out of Missoula and passed through Milltown, and then Bonner. It really is quite amazing how quickly the city just fades away, and looking back, you would never guess that it was there.

Bridges over the Blackfoot River near the confluence with the Clark Fork.

Quite scenic

We stopped for a water break, and soon after a sign warned:
"Watch for Bighorn Sheep"

Sure enough, they were right on the road in front of us.
They moved en masse up this unbelievably steep talus slope as we approached.

Powered by nature's own anti-gravity

This small roadside waterfall marked our turn-around point.

All in all, just what you might expect 26 miles of western Montana pavement to be... the sun is out, warm and brilliant, doing its job of melting off the snow from the high country. Soon there will be dirt under the tires and mountains to conquer... but for today, I feel blessed to have had the ride I did... even if it was on the road.

Escape.

Life was a little rough around the family unit today. Lots of details later, I decided to flee and leave the demon childrenz behind for a while. This happens so rarely, I figured that it was justified and perhaps even a good idea. This gained some needed validation when I was encouraged to get out of the house and ride by the significant other.

I made an ambitious plan. Up to Miller Peak. It was already almost noon. And it was only April. I figured I would get at least as far as Hollowman Saddle. Even if I made it that far, it would still be 40 miles of riding, and probably 4 or so hours away from the stresses of domestic life.

Off I went.

I made it down to South Ave before I saw this big storm cloud dropping snow over Blue Mountain.
Coming my way. Maybe I can outrun it.

Turns out I was able to outrun it. Just. Miller Creek Rd. turns southeast just in the nick of time and I got just the scantest of flurries. I was feeling really good on the bike. It was about 60 pounds lighter than it usually is, and I was climbing at a speed that I usually find quite respectable on flat ground with a decent tailwind. There was lots to look at.

I've got a thing for old stuff... and this old stuff had wheels. Cool.

More old stuff with wheels. Montana yard art.

An assortment of deer.

And the rather winding Miller Creek.

The first 15 miles went by in a flash. I was ascending at astounding rates, watching the grey skies close overhead, and occasional flurries cropped up now and then. I started the climb up to Hollowman Saddle and the road took a turn for the worse.

This was the good part of the road. It only got worse from here.

Litter. I was tempted to collect these in an effort to clean up after someone else's carelessness.
Decided that since the road was technically crossing private property at this point, that might
be considered stealing?

So in that last pic, the road surface is already a mix of ice, deadfall, wood chips, and very soft slush due to the warm temps (50 degrees)... I hiked about 2 miles, thinking I could make Hollowman. The whole bike succumbed to the slush and icing became a real problem.

Clearance on the cantis is good. The fenders? Not so much.

I had to bail. It was either that, or carry the bike to Hollowman. I got within spitting distance of 20 miles and called it a day.

The turnaround point.

The descent was a mixed blessing. I usually don't like long descents. Not much happening. Hang on, steer the bike, try to avoid having my muscles cramp up from not having to work, other than hold me upright. Today, there was a good headwind, flurries, and a couple miles of deep, soft slush that made the decent quite technical. Then it became the usual downhill 25 mph dodging and hopping potholes all the way back to town. Some nice views.

Looking across the entire valley to the mountains on the opposite side.

By the time I got back into town proper, I was feeling good. I had to work hard to keep the speed below 18mph and cool down before getting home. A great ride. A little disappointed at how low the snowline still is. I felt unbelievably strong without the trailer and Julian on the back. I'm sure I could have doubled this distance and elevation if time and conditions would have permitted. Soon.

39.5 miles round trip, 2000 feet of climbing.

Percent error...

I made a goal this year... rather unlike me, actually. My goal is to climb over 100,000 vertical feet for 2011. I've been really good at keeping track, but the season is early and the tools are new. You've seen my lovely elevation profiles generated by GPS and Topofusion, but I can't seem to wrap my head around the huge discrepancies between the two.

Usually, if my GPS records 1000 ft of what Garmin calls "Total Ascent" then Topofusion's climbing analysis wants to make it 2300. Who to believe? Thus far, I've been using a complicated algorithm involving averaging, subjective effort, and beer to determine Total Ascent. I refuse to be so optimistic as to believe Topofusion when it says my climb up Grant Creek was 2000 vertical feet... that's crazy talk... but I'm also having a hard time with the GPS which loses 200 feet of elevation at a trailside photo-op from time to time.

The weird bit is that all of the options in Topofusion's Climbing Analysis window give about the same percent error, regardless of parameters... so what makes DEM elevation values turn me into a superhero climber?

Maybe I'll have to keep relying on intuition, averaging, perceived exertion, and beer... you see, this algorithm isn't as crazy as it sounds... I'm pretty sure I average between 2 and 3 bottles of the hoppy stuff per 1000 feet of climbing... leaves me with a percent error of about 30%... same as Topofusion... go figure.

Blue Mountain

Today started off clear and cold, with the appearance of our long lost companion, the Sun. We hadn't been on a ride for way too long, so off we went. The goal: check out the trails at Blue Mountain to see if they were dry enough to ride yet.

We ride on a combination of road and bike path to get to Blue Mountain.
There was this persisent haze in the air, and some high cirrus clouds.

The haze and clouds made this beautiful ring around the sun.
Shot a few pics "blind" into the air and was amazed they turned out so well.

Julian spotted this "heblicopter" ...

and lots of animals along the way.

A field full of Prairie Dogs.

Cows with their calves.

This friendly horse.

So by the time we made it to the Blue Mountain Rd. turnoff to start the climb, everyone was in a great mood. We started the climb up the fire road past the frisbee golf course.

The first lookout above the Frisbee Golf course. You can really see the haze in the valley.

Up the hills. 7-10 percent grades.
Rene looks like he is on top of things on his singlespeed.

After climbing about 950 vertical feet we started seeing patches of snow
and encountered some mud. So when we saw this gate, we decided to take this
opportunity to ride some trails.

Trail conditions were close to perfect.

I had Rene take a couple pictures of Julian and I riding.

The Weehoo tracks very well on the trail.

We were hoping it wasn't all this wide and easy.

Mmmmm.... Singletrack.
No more pictures after this point. Too busy enjoying the ride.
First dry singletrack of the season.

The trails we rode were great. Plenty of twisty, moderately rocky singletrack, a fair helping of doubletrack and wide forest causeways, and enough trail features to keep everything fun. This is one of the shorter loops in the Rec Area, but due to the still soft conditions up high and the 10 miles of road riding we did to get to the TH, it was all we were up for.

25 miles, Topofusion says 1500 feet total ascending.
I cropped our huge road loop out of the topo image.
The loop starts at the West TH at Blue Mountain Recreation Area,
goes up the road, and down the trails.

I think it is safe to say we will be spending much more time up there as the season warms up and the crew gets their legs up to speed.