SMBA Shenanigans

I haven't been posting much, but I've been riding SMBA twice a week or so. I guess I don't post trip reports every time for the same reason that I don't post trip reports from Gore every time I go - it might get a little boring. On the other hand, I always enjoy reading the Gore Reports from the NY Ski Blog or the Saratoga Skier. So maybe I should post more TRs. Maybe if there was something called the NY MTB Blog with a bunch of different contributors, I would post on there.

For now, though, I'll just stick to riding around and making videos every once in a while. Here's a video from yesterday on the "Here to There" trail:

When Life Gives you Lemons . . .

. . . just go Mountain Biking.

It was 56 degrees when I left work on Wednesday, February 1st. Unbelievable. So we decided to check out the mountain bike trails up at SMBA. The riding was pretty difficult. It was a combination of icy death, nicely compacted sun softened snow, surface layered mud, and some prime dirt and dry rocks (mostly on the south facing slopes).  Here's a couple of surreal pictures taken with my buddy's camera (I was going to bring the DSLR, but the "icy death" kind of discouraged me. It ended up being a poor decision - there were some stellar photo ops):

I'm still skiing (went to West Mountain Tuesday and tonight), but this was just . . . better. It's weird. I had more fun learning some new riding styles (snow riding is a lot different than regular riding), messing around in the snow, and sliding around wildly than I did skiing tonight on a bunch of groomers. We really need to get some snow. I'm still hopeful for a good skiing winter, but if it doesn't happen, I'm glad that I've got a bunch of new skills to try to master on the bike.  Sometimes, you just have to take what Ullr gives you.

  

Last Day at Gore - 4/17/11

People generally have a feeling of anxiety as the ski season winds down. On Sunday, I felt a general malaise. I had heard that the skiing was kind of crappy on Saturday, cold and snowy - nowhere near the epic spring conditions that we had enjoyed the previous weekend. I figured that the weekend of the 9th and 10th would serve as a pretty good bookend to an excellent season of resort skiing (definitely the best in the past 3-4 years). Besides, I had gone to the SMBA Trail Maintenance Day on Saturday, built some bridges, moved some rock, and rode my mountain bike for about 3 hours in the afternoon. I was really starting to get into the summer frame of mind, and freezing my ass off on a windy Sunday wasn't really something I wanted to do.

But when you're a skier, you ski.

That's what you do.

So I ate some breakfast, waited until around 10:30, filled my car with $4 gas and drove up to the mountain. Things started off kind of strange when a woman stopped me in the parking lot and asked me if I thought it was worth it.

"What?"

"Do you think it's worth skiing today? We usually ski Whiteface, but all the lifts were on wind hold, so we drove down here."

"Well, you're already here, so you might as well get in some runs."

"Is that it?"

"What?"

"Is that the whole mountain?"

"No, don't worry, there's a whole 'nother mountain area behind that one. It's the last day, I'm going skiing."

After that strange exchange, I booted up and got on the lifts around 11:45. It started off cloudy, dreary, and cold. And they had lost a lot of snow from the previous weekend.  But at least the place was empty.

We skied Uncas down to the Straightbrook chair.  It was okay, nothing special, but okay.  Then we did Hullabaloo, Darby Woods, and some off the map glades down to the Darkside Chair.  Those were interesting.  Fun to ski trees on April 17th. Then we looked at the top of Lies, but it was super sketchy (icy crust that broke into fragments that looked like shattered glass).  We skied Straightbrook Glades and Reaper, both of which involved careful line selection to avoid getting trapped in a snowless dead end.

We felt that everything could use some more time to warm up, so we headed down to Topridge to do some runs in the hazy sun that was trying to break through the clouds.  The snow on Topridge and Uncas was a lot better than the snow higher up (corn vs. granular), so we did a lap of each.  Then, as we rode the Topridge Chair we saw some people poaching Rumor.

Later I heard a story that there was a call over the Patrol's radio:

"There are 5 people in dark jackets poaching Rumor!!! We can get them at Headwaters"

"Just let them go"

Shortly thereafter, Rumor was open for business

(Sorry for the crappy pics today, All I had was my cell phone. Also, that photo has a warm filter on it)

After 4 laps of Rumor, we called it a day.  The scene on the deck was pretty mellow.  The sun had come out, but it was still cool.  There were lots of extended breaks and pregnant pauses in the conversation.  Lots of looking up at the mountain with silent stares.  I couldn't tell if everyone was longing for more skiing time, or just reflecting on a solid year.  For me, it was a little of both.  "Anticipatory satisfaction".  In fact, the whole thing reminded me of the second to last scene in Ocean's 11.  It's like we just pulled off an wholly unbelievable heist, and we're all looking forward to whatever comes next.



And when it was time to go, we left in the same way.  One by one, we said our goodbyes and walked off.  Some people I'll see over the summer, but some I won't see until next year.  How do I know I'll see them next year? Well, they're just like me.  They're skiers.

And yes, it's always worth it.

Mountain Biking Last Weekend

I'm feeling a little lazy right now (in a real beer drinking/football watching mood), but last weekend was a great MTB weekend.  We explored the Pine Hill Park in Rutland last Saturday (awesome) and ripped the SMBA trails north of Saratoga on Sunday.  A friend of ours put this little video together (I'm riding the orange bike).  Enjoy!

Happiness is . . .

Because I am a snobby elitist, I was reading the New York Times and I stumbled across this article. The same theme always repeats itself in articles about happiness. Basically, instead of spending money on material possessions, we should be spending money on experiences. However, I also noticed this section:

Thomas DeLeire, an associate professor of public affairs, population, health and economics at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, recently published research examining nine major categories of consumption. He discovered that the only category to be positively related to happiness was leisure: vacations, entertainment, sports and equipment like golf clubs and fishing poles.

Ah-ha!!! I can use this to justify my purchase of the mountain bike. I was just making an investment in my future happiness. And really, the investment has paid out substantially. I've been riding twice a week (or so) and every weekend. We're getting better and better too (despite the horrific fall that I suffered last Thursday). I don't think this quote applies to my 6th pair of skis, though. At some point, I'd imagine that the law of diminishing returns supersedes the happiness rule.

In all seriousness, though, intuitively, this seems to be the case. I always seem to remember trips that I took, events that I experienced, and adventures that I had. Were they all great times? No, but according to the article, that doesn't even matter:

One reason that paying for experiences gives us longer-lasting happiness is that we can reminisce about them, researchers say. That’s true for even the most middling of experiences. That trip to Rome during which you waited in endless lines, broke your camera and argued with your spouse will typically be airbrushed with “rosy recollection,” says Sonja Lyubomirsky, a psychology professor at the University of California, Riverside.

Professor Lyubomirsky has a grant from the National Institute of Mental Health to conduct research on the possibility of permanently increasing happiness. “Trips aren’t all perfect,” she notes, “but we remember them as perfect.”

NICE!!! And I've had that theory for a long time. In fact, some of the best stories come from trips that didn't go according to plan.

Think about it. How many of your best stories start out like this: "Well, I was sitting at home on my couch and . . ." I'd imagine pretty much none of them. Most of my stories start out like this "So there I was in [insert crazy place/crazy situation/crazy predicament] and then . . .". Stuff never happens at home. Cool stuff always happens out there. And "there" is a different place for each individual. Some people do all their cool stuff at the nightclub. Some people love the beach. Me? All my cool shit happens in the mountains.

Which leads me to my greatest epiphany ever. When we were mountain biking up at the Stables the other day (Carriage/Powerline/Pilgrim/Dam/There to Here/Dam/Rock Garden/Unkown Trail out), Ace had a message on her phone when we got out of the woods. We threw some high fives, changed into flip flops, and cracked open some beers. She called the guy back in the parking area, and she got great news from a job interview that she went on the previous day. She got an awesome new job, in the ski industry, making more than she's making now, and she gets July and August off.

It was such a great moment to celebrate. Hanging out with a bunch of friends, drinking cold beer on a hot day, trading stories and barbs. Everyone there was psyched for her new job, and she was loving it. Later, when we were talking about how great that day was, I had this epic quote:

"When you're doing cool shit, and cool shit happens to you, that's just more cool shit!"

Basically, what I was trying to say was that, when you're living your life the way you want to live it, and things fall into place for you that makes your life even better, it's the cherry on the sundae. It was already good. Now it's just better (and really, there's nothing to stop it from continuing to get better - how about some rainbow sprinkles on that bad boy?).

I kind of liked the way I put it originally, though.

I should write for the New York Times.

Epic Ride @ SMBA

Long Ride today up at the SMBA trails near Skidmore College.  We wanted to do "Dam" the long trail that goes out extremely far from the trailhead with no support or civilization in sight.  We made it, but it was a struggle.  We started off on the carriage trail, and then we rocked "Swam Pass".  I was feeling rough.  I usually make it without putting a foot down, but today, I dropped it twice.  I'm going to go ahead and blame it on my heavy pack.  I was carrying water, some Gatorade . . . Ahhh, who am I kidding?  I SUCK!!!  Anyway, here's the Video:

After Swam Pass, we cruised on Bee over to the Dam trail.  We knew going in that it was gong to be tough.  We saw a vertical rock wall, and we told each other that it might not be possible.  Fortunately, we were prepared for a long day.  We hiked/biked/hiked/biked/biked our way towards the Dam Peninsula trail.  It was tough going in some spots, but really fun in other spots.  Here's a few pics:

  
The Fish Eye Lens of my helmet cam gives a little distortion, but you get the idea.  A lot of it was pretty great.  Some of it was pretty Gnarly.  For Example after we rode the Dam, The Dam Peninsula, and then the Dam for a while, we came upon this little treat (called "The Dragon's Back"):

It's this kind of ride that makes me ask myself if I'm a panzy.  I mean, it's a brutal knife edge rock, steeply dipping, with a rooty runout between trees.  When I first started mountain biking (a mere month and a half ago), I never would have even thought about attempting it.  But today, I stood on top and I wondered:  "Can I do this????"  I eventually decided "No."

But I still wonder if I could have gotten it.  The trail today was filled with chances like that.  Times that I asked myself if it was within my ability level, and I either risked it or pussied out (like a boss). When I risked it, I made it a bunch, but I missed it a few times.  Is there a harm in risking it?  I mean, obviously there is the risk of falling on some granitic gneiss (sorry, that's the geologist in me) and breaking my neck, but will that happen?  The times I risked it today I got away scott free (except for a bruised toe where I slammed my foot into a rock).  Will I be so lucky next time?

It seems that the older I get, the more these questions come up.  When I was younger, I wouldn't question riding some rocks, or hucking a cliff while skiing, or starting my life over in a new city.  But now that I'm 30 (ugh), I think about consequences a lot more.  What if I break my neck? Or tear my ACL?  Or go broke?

What is the correct way to think about things?  Is youthful naivete just that?  A stupid thought, that could only be dreamed up by someone who doesn't know any better? Or is there something behind it?  Maybe we should be pushing ourselves.  Maybe we should be expanding our horizons.  Maybe we should be making ourselves uncomfortable.  Maybe, just maybe, the smooth, easy path is the way that everyone else goes, and the only way to truly be great is to conquer the Dragon's Back.

Recent Mountain Bike Adventures

Really hitting the Mountain Bike hard lately (which is a good thing, considering the amount of money I spent on it).  After a so-so trip to Garnet Hill two weekends ago (trails are slightly overgrown and underused), we went up to Lake Placid to see what the Whiteface area had to offer.  We were definitely not disappointed.  On Saturday, Ace and I sampled the "Flume" trails down near the Hungry Trout Restaurant.  The trails are relatively new, and very well maintained:

Really, just a great day.  Rock Garden was a little above our skill level (read: impossible), but we rode all the way up to the Whiteface Kids Kampus on the Lower Connector trail, and then all the way back down on the Upper Connector trail - really, really fun with some technical areas and some stream crossings, but just enough difficulty to make it a challenge.

The next day (Sunday) we tried a little loop right near my parents camp detailed here.  The route into Deer Pond was mixed.  The first half was a really nice, wide-ish nature trail that we had a blast on.  The next part was a series of two plank bridges over some swampland.  Some of the bridges were ridable, but a lot of them weren't.  Between the bridges were some sections with roots, stumps and rocks that tripped us up more than once.  A tough hike/bike experience.  Eventually, through, just as we were getting towards the pond, we were rewarded with a nice downhill and beautiful views of a remote lake.  We didn't really have the map linked above, so we had a little discussion about which way to go out.  Eventually, we decided on the trail that pointed us to "Old Wawbeek Road".  This turned out to be a good decision, since 95% of the trail was perfectly ridable (as opposed to about 65% of the previous trail).  And eventually, we reached the aforementioned road, which turned out to be abandoned asphalt - perfect for our somewhat weary legs.

Finally, we joined some friends for a ride yesterday (Tuesday) up at the Skidmore Stables.  We just did a quick loop of Carriage Trail-Pilgrim-Swam Pass-Here to There-Rock Garden (different Rock Garden)-Carriage Trail.  Ace and I seem to be getting better because sections of trail that we used to struggle with, we are now flying over with ease.  I think the difficult trails that we are subjecting ourselves to are making us better riders.  As hard as the Flume Rock Garden and Deer Pond trails were, we're subconsciously taking what we've learned on those trails and turning it into positive movements on our regular trails.  Kind of like skiing in a way.

In fact, I'll have to remember that this winter.  A great way to get better is to try new trails at new mountains.  Or new trails at old mountains.  Or new lines on old trails.  Even if it's a struggle while you're doing it, subconsciously, you're learning what works and what doesn't.  So eventually, when you get back to the trails you're used to, you'll be rocking them like never before . . .