Out and about

We’ve been getting outside a fair bit lately.  Sunrise and moonset coincided nicely several days ago, and I took photographic advantage of it, as well as some other sights on different outings.  Enjoy!

The moon was full and bright, and the sun was just coming up on the opposite horizon.

Clouds that were placed just right helped the scene.

Meanwhile, clouds to the south were on fire.

This sunrise photo is from the day before in Palmer Park. The interplay of light and shadow on the rocks could occupy me for a lot longer than Sandhya has patience for...

Up on Barr Trail yesterday, the weather was amazing. This is February?

This old tree had some beautiful colors that matched the rocks around it.

T-minus one week and counting until our departure from Colorado Springs.  Here’s hoping I won’t regret leaving the mountains! -Joey

Bike Messenger!

I’ve finally achieved the height of all things bicycle-related, becoming a bicycle messenger!

Well, I wasn’t rocking the tight hipster jeans, little black cap, and messenger bag while swerving through crazy traffic on a fixie, so, perhaps I can’t call myself a “real” bike messenger.

Possibly a messenger, most likely a poser. But that's the style.

In fact, I looked quite the opposite.  Instead, picture a nerdy rider in rain gear and helmet, lumbering around town on a mountain bike with a bag dangling awkwardly from her handlebars.  Not quite the image of “I’m so cool, if you look at me too long I’ll smack the side of your car with my U-lock,” is it?

Let me explain how the protagonist of this story got into this embarrassing bicycle fashion nightmare.  Since the roads were covered in snow this morning, I pulled out my trusty mountain bike and donned rain pants and a rain jacket to avoid getting a wet stripe up my butt when the snow started to melt.  I rode out to the nonprofit where I’ve been volunteering and was thankful for my choice in gear.  In the afternoon, the organization asked me to deliver some oversized envelopes to several businesses downtown. “No problem,” I thought.

However by this time, the sun had come out and the snow had completely melted off the roads, and I didn’t have a backpack to stash my rain gear in, or with which to carry the envelopes.  So, I sweltered around town in all of my gear, feeling like a wrestler in one of those sweat suits.  Without a lock, it was necessary to bring my bike into the high-rises to avoid theft.  This didn’t work out so well the first time, since the entrance to the building was a rotating door.  I tried to enter with my bike in tow and got the rear tire got stuck in its grips, jamming up the whole contraption. “Oh crap,” I thought “I’m stuck in a revolving door with my bike and all these office people are looking at me like I’m a complete idiot!”  Luckily, I was able to force the door to revolve backwards a little bit and I was able to squeeze out.  Hiding my bike behind a pillar outside, I entered once again to make the delivery, looking quite out of place amongst the business professionals as we rode the elevator up to the top floor.

I completed all of my deliveries successfully, which leaves me with the question of: Who’s the real bike messenger out there?  Me, actually making deliveries despite the nerdiness?  Or all of the hipsters riding around town mimicking the messenger style?  Yeah, that’s what I thought!    -Sandhya

Wannabe bike messenger

Some new Colorado pix

Seeing as we’re about to leave Colorado for, at the least, an indeterminate amount of time, I’ve been trying to get outside and take some good pictures while I have the opportunity.  California will of course present many beautiful photographic opportunities in itself, but the subject matter will be quite different.  So, for your enjoyment, I present the latest (but not quite the last) of the Pikes Peak region photos:

A cloudy Pikes Peak sunset makes for dramatic skies.

Red rocks, some scrub oak, and the moon make a great natural still life.

Green trees and red rocks - great contrast.

Afternoon light in a pretty westside valley.

What mention of Colorado Springs (photographic or otherwise) would be complete without a church? At least this one is pretty - quite unlike the multi-million-dollar industrial-religion campuses of New Life and Focus.

As always, these photos are viewable full-size at my Panoramio page along with many others.

We are set to move in early February, and we are definitely stopping in Tucson for the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo mountain bike race along the way (it’s sort of on the way, at least).  Soon enough Sandhya and I will be getting reacquainted with and exploring anew Santa Barbara, respectively.  I’m planning on making it back to Colorado in July for a big-mountain-ride tripleheader, though:  The infamous Don Ride in Salida on July 4, Ring The Peak in the Springs on July 7 or thereabouts, and the newly-christened Spike Ride in central Colorado on July 10.  All these single-speed mountain bike rides are between 85 and 120 miles, all include plenty of riding above treeline, and all are hard even if you live at altitude.  I’m not sure that coming from zero feet to do these 6,000′-13,0000′ rides is such a good idea, but summertime riding in Colorado’s backcountry with friends is the number-one thing I’ll miss in Cali, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a few thousand feet of acclimatization stand in my way.  Pikes Peak or bust, as the old saying went, even if I am coming from the opposite direction.

That’s all for now.  Catch you soon! -Joey

California Dreamin’

Hey everyone – we’ve been conspicuously absent from this blog for the past, oh, few months.  Whoops.  It is wintertime here in Colorado, and while that means great things for some folks, well, it means hibernation for us.  We really don’t like the cold.  So keep that in mind when wondering about the dearth of new material here – unless you want pictures of our basement and living room, we’re just not going to be very interesting in the wintertime.  All that is about to change, however.  We’ve made a somewhat-snap decision to move to California, back to Sandhya’s hometown of Santa Barbara.  I, for one, never, EVER, pictured myself as a SoCal resident.  Life is funny sometimes.  The short story is that one-half of our combined family is there, the weather is nice year-round, we were ready to get out of the Springs and all the other options we were considering paled in comparison to some things that fell into place in SB.  The long story is, well – long.

We made this decision while visiting Santa Barbara for the holidays.  While there, since it wasn’t cold or snowy, I got out with the camera a little bit.  There are a lot of new photos up on my Panoramio account if you’d care to see them (link to the right); I’ve posted a few here as well:

This rock has weathered in a crazy way. There's an entire mountaintop full of rocks like this above Santa Barbara.

As seems to be New Year's tradition, we went climbing with family friend Greg. Here, Greg toughs out T-Crack at Gibraltar.

What is this? The Lion King? "The Cirrrcle of Liiiiiiffffe..."

She's in charge of the life on the other end of that rope. It looks like that's making her happy...

Thanks to Sandhya's grandparents, we all took an hour-long boat ride to the Channel Islands. We hiked around on Santa Cruz Island; Anacapa is in the background.

On the way to the islands we must have seen literally hundreds of dolphins. Here's one, enjoying playing off the bow of the boat.

The islands have been isolated enough for long enough to have their own species. Here's a Santa Cruz Island fox - it's only as big as a housecat.

Sea kayakers off the island coast. The water color was beautiful.

As I said above, there are more pictures on the Panoramio account if you’d like to see more from the islands, California, or otherwise.  On another note, here are a couple from the Springs – while walking around the lake near our house the other night, we noticed that all the geese and ducks that live there return to the lake within a 15-minute window.  Hundreds of birds fly into the small unfrozen area in the iced-over lake from every direction, making a huge honking/quacking racket.  I like to think they’re catching up with each other after a day’s activities afield.  The next night I brought a camera up there to try and catch the phenomenon – however, the light was pretty terrible and the pictures turned out a little blurry.  After that we headed over to the skatepark, where I tried to get an action shot or two.  This is all I got from the whole evening, and they’re not that great (but I’m learning on a new-to-me camera, so bear with me):

Geese coming home to Prospect Lake after a day in the field - Pikes Peak stands sentinal in the background.

This grom was boosting huge over the coping, but couldn't quite land it.

That’s all for now.  Back later with more – looks like we’re going to the 24 Hours of Old Pueblo mountain bike race in Tucson this February, and then of course there’s the whole California thing.  See you soon! -Joey

Ice and Politrix

First, the ice:

The Great Pixie Repack of 2009 (downhill race on 16" kids' bikes) is over. It was the coldest in history. It was also the most beautiful Repack that I can remember.

The ice, while not fun down in the city, takes on another personality in the mountains.

Anthropomorphizing aside, it was awesome out there.

I didn't race. I piloted an XtraCycle down the mountain wearing a helmetcam while Colin rode on the back and filmed with a handheld. Unfortunately, the pixie racers were way faster than we were - especially once we got a flat tire.

Then, the politrix (politics with a little realism thrown in):  I’ve been working on the Wheels Of Change website a fair amount lately.  Today’s passage of Max Baucus’ health care bill through the SFC inspired me to write a bit – basically I’m curious as to why no one’s talking about the real problem behind our health care concerns.  Check it out in detail at www.wheelsofchange.net.

Bikes, rides, and randomness

We recently finished building up our new bikes.  They are super-sweet, and if our car was ignored before, it’s downright neglected now.  Inspired by all the practical bikes we saw in Europe, our new commuter/touring bikes take a lot of cues from the European tradition.  Things like internally-geared hubs, generator hubs that run lights, fenders and racks are equipment de rigueur in Europe.  On top of that, we added our own touches from the mountain bike world – hydraulic disc brakes, WTB tires, Chris King headsets, and riser bars, to name a few.  But enough boring you with techy details.  It should be ’nuff said to say that they ride extremely well – solid and stable, even under full loads, and not too shabby in the speed department, provided they’re not loaded down.  Here are a few pix:

Our new Civia bicycles, which we built up from bare frames, are great. Check out Civia's line of utility bikes at civiacycles.com.

A pretty setting for a pretty sweet bike.

I wanted to go to bike polo. I didn't want to ride the half-hour on the polo bike: one low gear + one-sided handlebar + one brake = terrible distance bike. I also didn't want to drive (besides, I only know how to get there via bike path). Here's the solution! The mighty Civia takes it all in stride. I, on the other hand, was somewhat sketched out by the front wheel's incessant tendancy to float away.

Sandhya’s new job at the City is keeping her pretty busy.  I’m pretty busy as well, but if I don’t go outside and DO something every so often, I get nothing done but footprints on the ceiling – you know, from where I was bouncing off the walls.  Last weekend I went and did the Jones Park ride for the first (and probably last) time this season; when I left for Europe it was still snowed under and this was the first chance I’d had to ride it.  Yesterday was beautiful weather and I wanted to ride badly, but didn’t get a chance unless you count meandering around to bike shops, the farmers market and the grocery.  Today I woke up to leaden skies, a few flurries, and frightfully chilly temps.  Nevertheless, I was determined to get outside, so I went and rode Williams Canyon.  Besides feeling like an elephant in ballet slippers all the way down the somewhat-technical trail, it was a nice ride.  Some days you have it, some days you don’t.  Today I definitely didn’t.  Pix:

On the way up to the Jones downhill.

ON the Jones downhill. Fun stuff!

When the clouds cut off the mountains like this - as they are today - it looks boring around here. Kind of like Boulder.

Why the hell did I ride up here in the cold again?

This cairn has the most extreme height/girth ratio I've ever seen. Maybe it is a model cairn, showing off unrealistic states of being so that other cairns feel bad about themselves?

My new car. Not! This is my random picture of the day... I think I'll start throwing random shots in on some posts, just for kicks.

That’s all for now.  Over and out! -Joey

SSWC09!

That is, Single-Speed World Championships 2009.  Held in Durango, Colorado,  for 2009, I couldn’t resist signing up about a year ago when I learned that such an illustrious and infamous event was going to be within 7 hours of our house!  I don’t have time for a huge write-up, but here are some pictures from the day.  I was busy racing – Sandhya took all the photos during the race, except for this first one, which a random fella took.  I got a few post race pix.

On Raider's Ridge, trying to maintain momentum through the killer rocks.

Some of the outrageous costumes put my cowboy shirt to shame. Funny, when I wear that shirt in the Springs, I get funny looks...

Heather and JHK before the start. Our old roommate and their teammate, Sam Schultz, missed out due to a "serious" race (World Cup finals in Austria).

"Sexy Cop" (scary cop?) Kelli hammering through the midway point.

Carl Decker, aero helmet and all. Despite the skepticism I dosed him with pre-race about his gear choice (35x15), it wasn't until after the race that he saw things my way. "Perhaps I was a little optimistic on my gear choice..."

Deadly Nedly came out in full style. 54 years old and still got 4th. Damn.

Ouch!

More crazy costumes. I already liked IndyFab...

After working my way up to the top 20 or so in the first half, I flatted midway. A quick tube change and I was on my way - but not before losing several minutes.

People started fading on the second half and I managed to catch quite a few, but not enough to put me back where I was before the flat. I came in around 25th or so. Super fun!

Our friend Colin, from the Springs, made SSWC his second-ever bike race. He had a blast, although he did get hungry enough out there to eat a half-eaten, dirty Twinkie off the side of the trail.

That night, all 1000 or so racers (plus 2000 or so of their closest friends) showed up at Ska Brewery to celebrate. Much fun was had, beer was consumed, and the artistic entry forms were viewed.

Heather won the women's race and thus had to get inked for the first time. Here she is in the process.

A basketball game, played by a bunch of can't jump single-speeders, was used to determine where next year's SSWC will be. New Zealand won (yessss).

One thousand-plus racers.  Great weather.  Thousands of spectators.  An awesome and quite challenging course.  Great costumes, fun people, very few racer weenies.  It was awesome.  For the record, Ross Schnell won the men’s, Heather Irmiger won the women’s, no one else got counted, I think I was about top 25 according to several bystanders, and it doesn’t really matter!  I gotta figure out how to get to NZ next year… -Joey

Exploring the Horns area

The roof of the old radio shack (which I'd imagine predates Radio Shack by a lot).

Yesterday my friend Jon Csakany and I took Noel Black, the intrepid journalist from KRCC (formerly of Newspeak and the Toilet Paper before that) on a pretty cool exploratory ride up to the Horns area of Cheyenne Mountain.  Decades ago there was a restaurant and lodge on top of the Horns.  All that’s left now is a foundation, a couple small shacks, a bunch of rubble where they bulldozed the building off the mountain, and a couple of flagpoles.  It was quite a day.  We began by riding up Gold Camp road pretty much all the way to Old Stage Road.  It was sunny and nice out as we meandered up through the mountains, chatting along the way.  By the time we reached the MacNeil trail, however, menacing clouds had begun building over the Peak, and the rumble of thunder became nearly constant.  We eyed the sky nervously for a while and decided that it would likely stay on that side of the valley, so we continued on our ride down the trail:

Csakany on really nice trail.

The old water pump

After riding past the old water pump on the trail, we began hiking with our bikes, loosely following the water pipe that led all the way to the lodge ruins:

Following the pipe

Noel, the toughest journalist we've ever ridden with (and there's been more than one), soldiering through. Talk about embedded media.

Jon and I hiked out on this huge pile of boulders at one switchback, easing around the holes that dropped out into nothing, to get an amazing view over the Seven Falls valley and beyond:

Seven Falls valley and beyond. Note the Peak, wreathed in clouds.

An interesting natural frame.

After a good bit of hike-a-bike, we finally topped out at the ruins and walked around, checking everything out:

The foundation of the ruins.

The old radio shack, where old light or radio towers once stood. Csakany takes a look inside.

One of the flagpoles, up on a rock. How'd you like to raise that flag in stormy weather?

It was time to get out of there.

We explored a good bit, ate some lunch, and decided it was time to go home before our luck in evading the storms gave out.  We descended the old road cut towards the Will Rogers shrine, cutting off before we reached it on the Sunrise Trail to Old Stage.  A great ride! -Joey

Another weekend, another mountain(s)

Jesse, drinkin' (water) up on Blodgett.

We're going up there, oh yeah. (More pix below, after a few stories.)

Man, it’s great to be back in Colorado.  Jesse and I, left to our own devices yet again (it is difficult to keep Sandhya in one place for any length of time, much to my chagrin; it’s not that I want to hold her down or anything, I’d just like to see her once in a while), spent the weekend having fun outdoors.  Saturday I helped Jesse at the Farmers Market on the north side of town.  Not being particularly fond of the notion of getting up at 0600 hours to go to the farm, I woke up around 0730 on my own, ate breakfast, and rode my bike the 12 miles or so to the market to spend a few hours selling the best vegetables and peaches this side of the Mississippi.  Jesse’s employer, Venetucci Farm, is a beyond-organic farm just south of the Springs that I volunteered for some last year.  They raise a huge variety of veggies and sell peaches for some friends from a farm on the western slope.  At the market we were treated to a wide range of humanity – everyone from grizzled old farmers to Asian Indian immigrants to crotchety old ladies who drove hard bargains to white-collared businesswomen who gingerly tiptoed around the rough lot while tentatively fingering vegetables like they’d never seen them complete with dirt before.

Sunday morning came and I went exploring.  My single-speed friends and I have been trying to find a trail link to what we’re calling the Scar Trail.  After two attempts, both of which included hour-long, uphill, bikes-on-backs scree field hikes, I was not interested in taking the same approach we had been.  After poring over my Pikes Peak Atlas and referencing Google Earth a few times, I felt confident that I could find the missing link if there was one to be found.  All my normal SS riding buddies were off doing other things, but I called on my geared friends Ted and Blaine and dragged them out to explore with me.  After a three-hour dirt road climb, we headed off on a singletrack I hoped would lead us to a certain ridge.  It did.  Once at the ridge there was a fair bit of route-finding, but not for long, and soon we came to another old trail I had hoped to find.  It led us directly to the Scar Trail.  That’s one loop that just got a lot easier…

Sunday night we walked up to the skatepark and watched some seriously talented guys skating and riding in the 13-foot bowl.  There was a guy throwing 360 double tailwhips, other guys doing brakeless nose stalls on the coping, and even a guy pulling backflips off almost anything (without a helmet).  It was fun and I should have brought my camera – next time I will, for sure.  If those guys were the highlight of the night, the slick-haired, suit-n-tied, clipboard-carrying GOP canvasser walking around the park was the lowlight.  He asked me if I was a registered Colorado voter, and I answered in the affirmative.  He then flashed a few figures past my eyes and asked me if I was “interested in the responsible use of my tax dollars”.  Sure, I said, Who isn’t?, knowing precisely where the conversation was headed.  He wanted me to sign his ballot initiative petition.  I told him that, here in the Springs, we don’t exactly have a high tax problem.  In fact, it’s the opposite – we can’t get anything done because the ultra-right-wingers that live around here whine and complain about ANY taxes, and thus we have public transit being slashed by huge percentages regularly, a lame-duck city government, and holes in all our roads.  Once seeing me for what I am, he got out quick.  But as he was making the rounds, he passed us by again and said “Still having fun watching these guys?  They make it look awfully simple and easy.  But it’s really, really risky.”  Following a BMXer with my eyes, I couldn’t help but reply, “Jeez, it’s like a parable for what you’re doing!”  He didn’t really know what to say to that, so he mumbled some Conservative platitude and hurried away.  Silly big-C’s, tricking the citizenry is for kids!

Monday.  Labor Day.  We were pretty lazy until about 1130 hours, and then we decided to go hike a small peak on the northwest side of town and find a plane crash that was supposedly nearby.  Blodgett Peak is only about 9500 feet, but it is a steep hike to get up there.  After a slog up some loose stuff, we began climbing up a boulder field, leaving the trail in favor of the rocks.

From the boulderfield

As we neared the summit, we noticed that there were ladybugs swarming all over.  At the very point of the peak, there was also some species of flying ant, swarming like crazy.  On the summit they were almost unbearable.  Step down literally five feet and they weren’t a problem.

Little bugs with a big mountain in the background.

Ladybugs are so monochromatic... what?

After noticing the ladybugs and the flying guys, we began to pay closer attention to the ground.  Jesse spotted a big ant carrying a ladybug – presumably one it had hunted down – and I had to see what kind of shot I could get:

Mmmm, dinner.

After a little break for food, we headed down a steep ridge on the backside of the peak, looking for a 1940’s era plane wreck.  We found it.

Like an aluminum can. Planes stand no chance against a mountain...

Yipes. It may have been 60-plus years ago, but it is still sobering to look at.

The Air Force Academy, as seen from the crash site. Very likely where this AF plane was headed to land.

On the way back up the steep ridge it began to rain.  Noting the position of the sun, I thought there might be a rainbow on the eastern side of the peak.  Being on the western side suddenly became a problem.  So I ran up the last hundred feet or so, just in time to see a gorgeous rainbow and get a few shots before it faded away:

Sweet!

The hike was definitely worth it.  Until next time! –Joey

Longs Peak & Bike Racin’

Longs Peak.

We’re back in Colorado and having fun being home and enjoying a bit of free-ish time in our sweet state.  While Sandhya was off in the Sangre de Cristo range leading a backpacking trip as a pro guide, my brother Jesse and I took a weekend trip up to Winter Park and Longs Peak.  Saturday was the final race in the Winter Park mountain bike race series, and realizing that I need to remind my lungs and legs what racing feels like before Single-Speed Worlds, I decided to race it.  We drove up with my friend Blaine and while Jesse hiked around a bit, Blaine and I raced the point-to-point (no laps), 26-mile race on trails we’d never ridden before.  It was a blast – harsh climbs (at least on a racing-geared single-speed), FAST descents, twisty singletrack sections, and an almost waist-deep creek crossing thrown in for good measure.  The single-speeders were categorized with the Experts, but apparently these SSers were faster than Expert level – although I placed 6th out of 16 in the SS class (missed 5th place by literally 0.3 seconds, mis-timed my sprint), I placed 16th out of 138 Experts overall.  Not bad for racing all year, and racing with a bunch of geared riders.  No pictures from the race, but here’s a good one that my friend Boyer took on a recent ride:

Do I always make that face when I ride?

After the race on Saturday, Jesse and I took our leave of Blaine and headed up through Rocky Mountain NP, taking the northern route to get across the mountains to the Longs Peak campground.  We arrived in the late afternoon, ate some dinner, and promptly went to bed, knowing that we had to wake up at 2:00am… all too soon, our alarms went off, and we crawled out of our tents, breaking them down in the way-too-early morning.  We were at the trailhead by 3am, and were amazed to be greeted by a parking lot full of cars and people wearing headlamps.  I’d climbed Longs twice before, and I knew it is a popular climb, but nothing previous prepared me for the number of folks heading out at that hour.  Jesse and I followed suit and got in line to head up the mountain.  Keeping a good pace, we made great time and were way above treeline before the slightest hint of dawn crept into the sky.  Across the Boulder Field we trekked, and we made it to the Keyhole as the sun rose:

The Keyhole at dawn

Thus began the most exciting (or dangerous, if you prefer) section of our hike.  Though we had covered the vast majority of the mileage between the trailhead and the summit, once past the Keyhole the “trail” consisted of ledges, Class Four scrambles, and spots where a slip could literally mean certain doom.  (A BIG mistake would have to be made, it really isn’t that bad up there.  Potentially dangerous?  Yes.  Absolutely deadly?  No.)  At least it wasn’t snowy and icy, as it was the last time I climbed Longs.  Here’s Jesse pondering the next step:

Climbing

After traversing the section known as The Ledges, we encountered The Trough:

Looking down towards The Trough

Once at the top of The Trough – a long, steep, loose slog which leaves everyone panting – we took a breather before going into the most exciting section – The Narrows.  So named because the trail is a narrow traversing ledge above a sheer cliff, this is the spot where you don’t want to slip.

See that ledge behind Jesse's head? The one with the boulders blocking the way? That's the trail.

Those are my feet, hanging out over a lot of empty space. Note the lake on the valley floor for scale.

We traversed The Narrows without incident and started up the final section, the aptly-named Homestretch.  This steep, slabby section is not really very hard, but it’s somewhat of a mind-bender, since all the wonderful handholds and footholds are somewhat hard to pay attention to when you’re on a steep slope above a sheer drop into the abyss below.  The trick is to not look down (no, really).  Just climb.  We did just that and made it to the summit just after 8:00am.  After a bit of looking around and feeling the lack of oxygen at 14,259 feet above sea level, we flipped it around and went home.  All in all, it was a super weekend.  Here’s to more of those for everybody! -Joey

The Homestretch, which is sort of like the proverbial slippery slope, except that it isn't that slippery and there is a real chasm at the end.

We made it! We're on the highest rock on the summit. We made it down without incident. To tell the truth, all those ledges, traverses, and steep slopes don't scare me nearly as much as the drive home in crazy interstate traffic did.