New Format

As you may have noticed, I'm trying to make the blog look a little more professional, so I'm messing with the format a little bit. Check out my cool picture on top. I also made one for mountain biking season:

I still have to put a few more links up on my bar up there (hiking, road biking, etc.), and I might adjust the columns and add more fun stuff on the periphery. So, just know that I'm still trying to improve the blog and also trying to make it as functional as possible.

Gift Guides = Garbage

Around this time of year, ski sites start coming out with “gift guides”, which are really just a bunch of kickbacks to their sponsors. Everything is overpriced, everything is gimmicky, and it’s almost a guarantee that everything you get will make you look stupid (also, the time has come for me to officially come out against Transpack backpacks. They are the Ski-Tote of the new millennium and as easy as they might make things to carry, you generally look like a complete and total gaper when you have one – exceptions can be made for kids, but that’s the only group with immunity). Gift guides as a general concept are so beholden to the “consumer culture”, it’s hard to think of any way that they make people’s lives better. Many years from now, when historians write the book on the decline of the American empire as a result of capitalistic greed, rampant egoism, and uncaring selfishness, the “Holiday Gift Guide” will have its own chapter. It’s so much better to think about gifts like this guy:

The best gift for an adventurer is a great plan in a brand new place and a way to get there (gas $$, plane tickets, whatever).

He goes on to do the kind of gift guide that I’m really interested in: the best adventure spots in a variety of states (for New York, he recommends tagging a bunch of peaks in the ADKs on a long hike from Keene Valley to Marcy). That’s the kind of thing I want to know about. Don’t tell me what to buy, tell me what to do. Tell me what to see. Show me a cool place that I’ve never visited. Introduce me to an activity that I’ve never done before. Better yet, come with me! If you’re passionate about Stand Up Paddleboarding, or Canyoneering, or Snowmobiling, or whatever you’re into, show me why you like it. Tell me why it’s awesome, and take me on your favorite trip.

I was recently reading an article about donations to food banks being the most economically inefficient way to deal with feeding the hungry. There are many problems with the “food drive” model: charitable organizations can get cans of food for much less money than you can, handling that many cans are a logistical nightmare, and a lot of food ends up getting wasted (because they’ve received too many cans of beans and not enough cans of tomatoes, for instance). So should we stop giving cans of food? What’s the solution?

In-kind donations still help, of course, and nobody’s turning away boxes of food. But a fundamental issue is that many organizations feel that asking for money—like requesting cash as a gift—seems somewhat gauche. So, let me be rude on their behalf: Find well-managed charities in your community and trust them to know how to do their job. They have access to food at a fraction of the price. They know their clients, and they have better things to do than to sort through your canned goods.

Exactly. When it comes to food banks, the best strategy is to let them handle it. And maybe this is the best strategy for gift giving, too. I can get pretty good discounts on Outdoor equipment. I know a couple of trips next year that I REALLY want to go on. And I don’t really need that 8th pair of ski socks.

I know that this is antithetical to the whole capitalist system (or “spirit of giving” if you please), but the money that people are going to spend on Christmas gifts would do a lot more good if it were in the hands of the people who are in line to receive the gifts. I’m in favor of stipulations (“you have to spend this on something fun and not on bills”), but I’m just not in favor of filling my house with more crap. I’m not about to go minimalist, I just feel like I’ve gotten to the point where I already have enough stuff (besides that avalanche gear I need . . . and that rock climbing equipment . . . Damn. This anti-capitalism thing is harder than I thought).

I really just need to get out and start using the stuff I have.

Come on, Snow.

Sedona, Arizona - 11/21/11 & McDowell Mountain Regional Park - 11/24/11

I'm bored tonight, so I thought I'd do a quick report of a couple of mountain bike rides I went on while I was out in Arizona for the Thanksgiving holiday. My brother and I had these great plans to ride all over the place, but he got into a motorcycle accident, broke his collarbone, and was unable to do any kind of physical activity at all. So, I stole his bike and caught a ride up to Sedona.

The weather was pretty nice.

The scenery was decent, too.  I rode around the Bell rock area for a while (nice wide roads, but nothing overly exciting), then I took the Templeton Trail to the Baldwin Loop.  That's where the riding got really good.

After cruising the high desert and rocky switchbacks for a while, I dropped down into a river valley, and suddenly, I felt like I was back in New York.  Roots, grass, and actual trees! Crazy for Arizona.

I was feeling freaking fantastic.  I was ripping technical lines, hopping off of knolls, and pumping banked turns to gain speed (but not too much speed because I wasn't really familiar with the trails and I never really knew what was around the corner).  I was feeling so good, though, that I decided to follow this guy's advice for taking better outdoor photos.

Thankfully, I avoided that cactus.  I continued on the Baldwin loop, and got to some more stellar scenery:

Then, I finished up by riding on the HT path, and some more stuff closer to Sedona proper.  In fact, my route was similar to this route (probably what a lot of first timers do, as it was recommended by the guys at Sedona Bike & Bean, the first bike shop on the road in). 

I cruised into town for a while for some lunch with my parents.  The town was a little hokey with all the typical tourist shops. Apparently there's a big new-age hippy dippy contingent in town that hawks tarot card readings, fortune telling, and "magic" crystals.  I guess there are several "vortexes" in the area that supposedly harness some kind of cosmic energy.  I just rode right past them, but I saw some people who appeared to be deep in meditation (I tried not to disturb their chi).    

After lunch, I headed out on the Deadman's pass trail:

After a couple of miles of riding, though, I realized that I just did not have the leg power I wanted for the climbs.  I did a little more riding and turned around.  I was starting to think that maybe the mystics were punishing me for doubting their power.  But then I looked to the southwest, and I realized that at least someone was shining on me.

On Thanksgiving day, I thought I'd try something a little closer to my brother's house in Scottsdale.  A 30 minute drive in his ridiculous Jeep brought me to the McDowell Mountain Regional Park.  I asked the guy at the Gate where the best mountain biking was, and he pointed me to the Pemberton Trail.  While the views of mountains and Cacti were good, the trail was super boring.  No hills, few turns, and no challenge at all.

I noticed on the map that there was a "Competitive Area" in the southwest corner of the park.  This is where I should have been all along!  Because I was a little tired from the 10 miles of boring riding I had just done, I opted for the "Sport Loop" (I would have done the Long Loop if I had gone to this area first).  It was a little boring at the beginning, but then I saw this sign:

After that, it got good.  Fast, flowy, not really technical, but just what I needed before I laced into some Turkey.  The other cool thing is that all the trails were one way, so you didn't have to worry about anyone coming up on you when you're banking turns down a desert ravine.  Very Cool.

Mountain Biking in Arizona is pretty damn fun (and I really just scratched the surface - mostly sticking to the "tourist" spots).  Next time I go out there, I'll be sure to dive deeper into the scene and really see if I can find some more technical stuff, some cooler scenery, and some crazy lines.  Maybe then, I'll be able to go with my brother too - might have to hire a mystic healer for him, though.

Patience

I write a lot about anticipation. It’s not that I’m incapable of living in the moment; it’s just that I feel like life is better when you’re looking forward to something. But one thing I don’t enjoy is the griping around this time of year about terrain options (or, more specifically, lack of terrain options). Sure, I’ve definitely complained in the past. But since then I’ve realized that, instead of spending all your time waiting for an enjoyable payoff, it’s better to enjoy the time leading up to the payoff. Patience, it turns out, is a virtue.

So, after skiing on Saturday, I went mountain biking on Sunday, then watched football, drank beers, and took a nap. Sometimes a little decompression is good. I know that the snow is going to be there in February, March, and April, there’s no need to go crazy. Or is there? Here’s a story about a bunch of people who’ve been skiing on crushed rocks:

The daredevils carved their way down a steep slope in the western Austrian village of Haiming, producing clouds of dust and at least one face-down tumble.

Among reports that a mild winter has left sportsmen with a lack of the white stuff in Europe, the skiers obviously decided to take matters into their own hands.

I’m not going to be doing that anytime soon. I mean, maybe if it was grass or dirt, but talus slope does not scream “Number One Option” to me. A real option when you're going number one is this new urinal game in Britain that incorporates skiing:

Drinkers can enjoy a spot of simulated skiing or extinguish some virtual flames while relieving themselves at The Exhibit bar in Balham, south London.

High-tech sensors detect the direction of urine and translate it into action on a 12-inch screen above every urinal.

By aiming carefully while spending a penny, users can guide a skier off piste or put out a raging inferno during their 60-second toilet trip.

I think I can be patient for a little longer.

In fact, I’ve tried to incorporate this theory of patience into my entire life, and I think it’s finally starting to pay dividends. Just this week I learned that Lindsey Vonn is getting divorced. I’d like to throw my name into the hat for a rebound relationship. I wouldn’t be all overbearing and domineering like her former husband/coach/trainer/career adviser. I’d be content to just travel to exotic destinations, lounge around in expensive hotels, and support her during all of her races (unless it was a powder day, in which case, I’m sure I could just catch the highlights later). I think that that Lindsey and I have a lot in common and if she needs it, I could totally be her shoulder to cry on (and if not, I was always more of a Julia Mancuso guy anyway).

Really, anything would be better than 65 degrees and raining. But if you do like this weather, Yahoo has been busy coming up with places to ski in ridiculous states like Connecticut and Tennessee. Say what you will about skiing in NY, at least we have legitimate mountains. And mountains are important, as it seems like cross country skiing is becoming increasingly dangerous, according to this story from Sweden:

The trial against the hunter who fired a single shot that passed through an elk before hitting and killing a cross-country skier, opens on Monday in Sweden.

I know some people who are patient enough to wait until after Hunting season to begin skiing. That idea is looking better and better.

Bike Path Ride - Scottsdale, AZ

While everyone else is complaining that it's not cold enough for snowmaking, I got the hell out of town.  Here's what I did on Saturday:

Yeah, I took my brother's mountain bike and cruised the unbelievable bike path network of Scottsdale, AZ.  I rode from Scottsdale down to Tempe, past Sun Devil Stadium:

All of the riding was on bike paths.  And the paths are amazing.  They have water fountains, bathrooms, and interpretive signs along the route. There were people running, biking and even rollerblading (I didn't even know people did that anymore).  On the way back, I got on some dirt:

It was mostly flat fire road riding, but I'm hoping to get on some singletrack tomorrow and Thursday before Thanksgiving festivities.  Then, when I get back to New York, I can start praying for snow like everyone else. 

Last Weekend's Hike

So, we had this plan . . .

We were going to park at the Garden Trailhead in Keene Valley on Saturday, check out the Bennie's Brook Slide for a possible winter adventure, hike it up to the top, and come down the Lower Wolfjaw Trail, and chill out back at the car with a couple of beers. Sounds good, right?

Well, The Garden parking lot was full, so we decided to attack the mountain from the W.A. White Trail via the Rooster Comb and Hedgehog Trails.  This was a lot more difficult than we anticipated.  Still though, it was a good workout, and a good way to get in shape for the ski season.  We felt good when we saw our first glimpse of the slide:

Like a freaking ski run!!!  And it looked even better once we were on the slide:

The snowy, icy, rocky slide was pretty tough to walk down, but we just took our time and made sure that we didn't do anything stupid. There were some nice terrain features further down:

Rocks, drop offs, natural knolls: This is going to be SWEET this winter.  We hiked down to the sunny spot in that second picture and ate our lunch.  It was a nice view back up the slide:

Anyway, the slide looks a lot different than when Jeff went last August.  And it now goes all the way down to the Southside trail (on the south side of John's Brook).  We took that back towards Keene Valley (having to take a few reroutes due to parts of the trail that were washed out in the hurricane).  

All in all, it was a pretty sweet adventure. 

TR: Pico 10/30/11

Remember when I said that the recent snowfall wasn't quite enough for an early season turn-earning session? I lied.

We got a late start after Saturday night Halloween festivities, finally rolling out of the house around 9:30. We just wanted to head up to the Killington area, decide if we wanted to pay for a ticket or not, and have a lazily awesome opening day. We did a little recon at Pico on the way by, checked the snow depth, scanned the ski tracks looking for deep gashes down to dirt, etc. We needed supplies anyway, so we pressed on towards Killington. After a quick stop at the deli for sandwiches and water, we pulled into the dropoff area for the K base Lodge, and I was already not feeling it. There were a lot of people milling around, there was a cattle line at the Gondola, and looking up the mountain, there was a steady stream of people going towards the North Ridge Triple. And when I say "steady", I mean "neverending".

We got the hell out of there. The parking lot at Pico was a ton better. There were a couple chill guys coming down that gave us some beta: "a little bit of everything". Sounds like fun.

We started hiking while the clouds were still sticking around.  The skin track was sweet:

The hiking was easy and fun.  In the picture above, you can see that the upper mountain blacks were in "questionable" shape.  We hiked all the way up to the point where the high grass started.  Did I mention it was easy?

And fun?

Yeah, I was rocking the stache (left over from my Halloween costume).  It took us an hour and a half to get up to that point just below the top.  After that, the fun started.  Sorry I don't have any sick action shots.  I was just having too much fun skiing.  Here's what the snow was like:

It was freaking great.  I don't know if it's because we were all rocking fat skis, or because we followed some sage advice to stick to the mellow blue square pitches, but none of us bottomed out at all.  After tooling around for a while, we headed down.  Here's a semi-action shot:

The untracked stuff was fine as long as you had enough speed to get your skis to plane, enough power to be able to move your skis where you wanted them, and enough ability to make the necessary balance adjustments for the snow and occasional water bars.  Simple!

The whole day was really fun.  We saw a bunch of mellow people, a lot of dogs, and a few hardcore kids (9-10 years old, I'd say) with their parents who hiked all the way up to where we were (and then skied tele down!).  And if you hadn't noticed, the sun came out:  

We finished with a couple of beers on the deck (I had some Keystone Light left over).  Perfect end to a perfect day:

As you might have noticed, I played with the color saturation on these pictures, so they kind of look like Technicolor.  I thought it was fitting because the whole thing was kind of surreal.  All those people crowding Killington, and this (relatively) untapped Shangri-La was right down the road.  Crazy.  Not only that, as we drove through Rutland, and back to the ADKs, we went from the deep snow depths of winter to the leaf covered grass of fall.  There wasn't any snow on the ground at all by the time we got back to Queensbury.  The only signals we had from the official beginning of the 2011/2012 ski season were the droplets of water on our skis and the pictures on our cameras:

Winter's Coming

Sorry I've been a little lax on the blog lately. I've been dealing with some stuff. You can follow me on Twitter @mattchuck2, or on my twitter feed that appears on the right, and I have been posting a lot of cool links, internet videos, and other interesting stuff on there.

I just really haven't been able to get out anywhere lately. That'll change soon, though, as I finally got my mountain bike light back. That means I'll be able to start night riding again (which is awesome). And, as you can see from this picture of my street, winter is right around the corner:

Don't think it's quite enough for a early season turn earning session (I'll leave that to FIS), but it's definitely getting near that time. I can't freaking wait . . . If there was ever a year that I need skiing, this is it. Let's do this.

Mountain Biking - Otter Creek + Floodwood 10/9/11

Did a lap on my normal mountain bike route up around the Fish Creek Pond Campground. It's about 8 miles or so, and it takes me about an hour an a half when I stop to take pictures.  I took a lot of pictures on this trip:

The ride starts out on the road towards the campground, but you don't mind because of views like this:

I cruised into the campground and it was pretty empty.  Half of the sites were closed and only about half of the remaining sites were filled.  There is a nice gravel path that I rode on right next to the main road:

But eventually I had to cruise back to the road so that I could get to the Rollins Pond Campground.  Doesn't matter.  It was still beautiful:

Once you get into the Rollins Pond Campground, you just have to keep going all the way to the end.  It's really nice this time of year because the park is closed, the sites are empty, and the roads are covered with fallen leaves:

Make sure that the campsite numbers keep going up, and eventually you reach the end of the line and this sign:

Once you turn on to the Otter Hollow Loop, the singletrack is sweet:

Once you hit this bridge, you head over to the Floodwood Pond Trail (which we did earlier this year):

Neither trail is very technical. This is about as tough as it gets:

It was a fun trip, but it would be better if I had someone to ride it with.  If anyone wants to rip around, on mountain bikes or skis (soon), let me know because I have a lot of free time all of a sudden.

More Adventure, Less Ennui

I spend a lot of time reading people’s stories. Trip reports, race summaries, adventure journals. The internet is an incredible thing. I wanted to talk a little bit about why I fill my hours examining other people’s stuff.

Every once in a while, I come across a great blog post. The kind of post that makes me want to be a better person. When I read this post the other day, I definitely felt inspired. I mean, how could you not be affected by sections like this:

I joked yesterday about what I’ve learned on the bike. Well, the single greatest thing I have truly learned on the bike is what Ken Chlouber from Leadville preaches every year.

You are better than you think you are. You can do more than you think you can.

I have not ridden Leadville. I could not. Yet. I have done nothing like it. A lot of you have not, and could not. But…

We can all DIG DEEP. We are all better than we think we are, we can all do more than we think we can.

This is an absolute truth. I have not ridden Leadville, but I have experienced exactly what Ken preaches – I have learned from the past year and a half on the bike that I can do WAY more than I thought I could. I am WAY better than I thought I was.

And so are you.

I want to be better. I want to do more. Sometimes, especially when it rains for 3 straight days, I feel like I’m not living my life to its fullest potential. I’m making more excuses than memories. It’s raining. My rear rotor on my car needs to be replaced. My bank account is down to the single digits again.

I need to develop a more positive attitude. This is a better example of how I should be thinking, from the South County Cyclista blog:

A few weeks ago on a Friday night I was trying to figure out where I was going to ride the next morning. My friends all had to ride later in the day or were out of town. Then it hit me. Why not finally make it up to the radio tower? I pulled up the map I had studied many times looking at the dirt road switch backs climbing up the steep contours of the land. This would indeed be a solo adventure.

Usually adventures like this need to be done solo or you risk ending friendships if the adventure turns sour.

I remember one time this past summer when Ace was away, it was a beautiful sunny day, and I wasted it inside watching golf on TV. Ugh. To be fair, we did a 20 mile road ride in the morning so it wasn’t a complete waste. But I still felt like I could have done more. Wasn’t there a little part of my area that I hadn’t explored yet? Wasn’t there someplace to go?

That’s why this idea from the Adventure Journal really intrigued me:

I once spent four years cycling more than 40,000 miles round the world. It was a heck of an adventure. But one of the things I learned during that trip was that you don’t need to spend four years cycling more than 40,000 miles round the world to have an adventure.

Adventure is only a state of mind. 
Adventure is stretching yourself; mentally, physically or culturally. It is about doing what you don’t normally do, pushing yourself hard and doing it to the best of your ability. And if that’s true then adventure is all around us, at all times. Even during hard financial times such as these. Times, I believe, when getting away from it all and out into the wild are more invigorating and important than ever.

That is why I began a series of ‘expeditions’ that are close to home, affordable, easy to organize, and designed to encourage other people to get out there and do stuff! I call them microadventures.

Right. I didn’t need to sit at home watching golf. There were all sorts of other things I could have been doing – new places to explore, new things to try, and new experiences to be had.

I think my real problem is that I wasn’t thinking outside of the box. I really did want to go somewhere, but for some reason, I was only thinking of places that I had been before. I wasn’t really into repeating something I had done hundreds of times (see my post on Adventures vs. Sessions), so I had a hard time motivating to get off my couch and do anything at all.

Ridiculous. Some of the best adventures are the ones that are unplanned, spontaneous, and completely improvised. Thinking only of the places I had been before made my decision really uninteresting, unexciting, and uninspiring. It’s no wonder I chose to sit at home. Because really, to take one more snippet from the South County Cyclista blog:

"It is only an adventure the first time."
- Dan Z.

Exactly. Time to start racking up some first times.