I'm not actively blogging here anymore. But if you got here because you were searching for something about bikes, you might want to check out my latest project, Vermont Goldsprints. In summer of 2014, I bought a used goldsprints racing setup and have made it a mission to get more bikes in more people's faces by putting on fun races in unexpected places. Come join me!
It's tough to see in this picture, but they used a wave of the Jolly Roger to signal the approach of each jumper during the annual Gelande jump contest this weekend at the Bowl. These guys jump fixed-heel, so they go faster and shorter than their telemark brothers. The best of them went over 200 feet on what I am told is a 50 meter hill. I don't really know what that means, except that the guys who went that far had damn little of the hill left to land on (in other words, another 10 feet or so and they are landing on the flats). I didn't get to see much of the event as I was working and went home tired before the finals got started. I had good success in my lessons, though, with a girl who had never skied before six weeks ago taking her first ride up the chair and winding her way back down the mountain with me in a little over an hour.
In my other working life, I got to head up to Seeley Lake last week, and the drive up was full of deer, eagles, and local lore courtesy my boss and co-worker. Seeley is where writer Norman MacLean (of A River Runs Through It fame) retreated with his parents, and where MacLean's father lived out his days following the death of Maclean's brother. MacLean's brother actually was murdered, but it was on the streets of Chicago, not Missoula as portrayed in the movie. The police never concluded anything but MacLean always felt that his brother was indeed killed over gambling debts. Anyway, I didn't get to see them but apparently the local historical society does have a fishing shirt and a few other things that belonged to MacLean on display somewhere. Maybe on my next trip.
...Ishmael- newest member of our family here in Missoula. Kate's been volunteering at the local Humane Society and I kind of figured it was only a matter of time before a kitten followed her home. Ishmael is around six months old and is very playful and loving. I'm happy to have him. Whenever we have a movie to watch (via Netflix, as we are a cable and antenna-free household) he curls up with us on the couch and watches intently. Last night we saw Beyond the Sea togther, and tonight it was a Discovery Channel production about wolves. During one of the sequences with a lot of howling, he pricked his ears up and looked at Kate with his little head absolutely shaking. Kate and I pet him and let him settle back into my lap, and he watched the rest of the film with great interest and without further incident.
Bluebird is a term I had never heard until I moved west. As in: "It was totally bluebird this morning, but then it clouded up this afternoon." And it was, today, and it did in the afternoon. I had one kid in my lesson in the morning and a no-show for the afternoon- so I was able to get a couple of runs in and take a few pictures. This is Grizzly, as viewed from the Grizzly Chair, which takes you almost a linear mile and almost 2000 feet up the mountain. The summit is visible in the background.
So I come home after 8 hours at the county/city job and 4 at REI, and what do I find in the fridge? Call it an early Valentine's Day present, a thirst quenching beverage, a taste of nostalgia and a sure sign that I am welcome home- It's a sixer of that Danish standard and oftimes companion with me to the sunny sidewalks of Nyhavn Harbor- Carlsberg beer. Sure, it's one of the more basic brews from Denmark, but it is a staple and a wonderful reminder of my time there. More importantly, Kate got it for me which means she was thinking of me when she went grocery shopping tonight while I was at work missing her. (Awww.)