In which I achieve escape velocity despite my bludgeoned brain to escape the noise of construction for the local festival, discover having a TBI headache in a tent in a hailstorm with zero count lightening is less fun than it sounds, and along the way I get to ride Beorn of Clan Gus Boots Willsen up, down, over through rocks, roots, mountains, streams all familier yet remarkable because Beorn can ride lines no bike I've ever had can. What a delight!
In which I take Beorn of the Gus Boots Willsen Clan on his first bikepacking adventure expotition and he surprises me with his epic land-travel speed via a fog teleportation experience that saw me in Colorado, Scotland, Tibet, the Pacific Northwest, back to Colorado and briefly to Arizona, being at once more epic and less epic than I'd thought. Life, with its holy extraordinary wrapped in its everyday ordinary is like that a lot. Grin.
Descending on tires that slip on wet rocks and roots is not as fun as it sounds. Beautiful more than makes up for it though! (Yes, I'm in there. Bottom middle, slightly to the left. Wee lad. Grin.
In which I swap tires after discovering Maxxis Icon+ are slip and slides on wet rocks and roots, aspen bloom, Pascha flowers blossom during Paschatide, and I'm happier than a clam on a bike 9,000 feet above the salty sea on my new Schwalbe Nobby Nic 27.5 x 2.8” Addix Apex Speedgrip SnakeSkin (Whew!).
In which Beorn of Gus Boots Willsen handles gradients preferred by mountain goats and bears, both up and down; I meet nary a soul; and a bald guy ascends and sits atop Mount Baldy for a pipe and coffee.
In which I ride freewheel for the first time in eighteen months, put in forty miles in the first two days, watch in amazement as spring turns to winter in a mountain glen with the sun shining and fat fluffy snow flakes and early spring butterflies ride the same gusting winds, and I discover that Rivendell’s Gus Boots Willsen, whom my daughters named Beorn of Tolkien’s “The Hobbit,” loves all terrains climbing and descending with elegance and grace, as only bears can do.
Snowshoe LCG (lowest common gear) to get up to CR21 from Green Mountain Falls, the morning after the blizzard.
What an amazing storm! It not only brought winds in the mountains of 60mph, temps in the teens, and twelve to fourteen inches of very wet snow, but it also was the collision between New Colorado and Old Colorado.