I don’t remember exactly when I took up skiing but I think it was sometime around middle school. I certainly didn’t grow up skiing. No one in my family skied so it wasn’t like we were going to Vail every Christmas. It was more like I had seen a few Warren Miller movie clips on TV and the whole thing just looked so cool so I pestered my parents about it like only a pre-teen can pester until they relented.
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WARNING: This post contains material that may not be suitable for all readers. It contains bicycle maintenance descriptions and images that, while not necessarily disturbing, may cause drowsiness for non-bike geeks and irritability in small children. Seekingtimberline.com does not condone the activities depicted and discourages anyone from attempting them. Reader discretion is advised.
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The past couple of weeks of unseasonably warm weather had left us wondering if we were really in Colorado or back in Texas. The other possibility was the Earth had broken from its orbit and was hurtling toward the sun, a prospect that wouldn’t be all that surprising given the way 2020 has been going so far.
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While the start of winter is defined as a date on the calendar, specifically the winter solstice on Dec 21st, around here winter comes more in layers than by date.
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One of the things I’ve been most interested in trying now that we’re in CO is fat biking, specifically fat biking on snow.
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If I have one little gripe about our new hometown — and granted, I feel so lucky to be here it seems ridiculously whiny to even mention it at all — it’s that the road riding opportunities are limited.
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For me, one of the best things about being back in Colorado is having four honest-to-God seasons again. In Houston things go from hot and damp to cool and damp with maybe a week of sunny dry weather thrown in in March and November to serve as spring and fall. Leaves in Houston don’t change as much as they get old and fall off. And for the more part, things are green year-round.
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A couple of the peaks coming around on the climb rotation, La Plata and Huron, are nearby but are accessed via an area I’m unfamiliar with, Clear Creek canyon. And since most 14er climbs start with a drive in the dark, we decided it would be a good idea do a little reconnaissance work in the daylight to locate the trailheads and get a sense for the difficulty of the road. The trip would have the added benefit of getting to see the historic mining town of Winfield, which sits near the top of Clear Creek Canyon.
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Besides being the year of the global pandemic, 2020 marked two momentous and significantly more positive events in my life. I retired, twice. I checked out of the corporate meat grinder after 35 years and I retired from bike racing after 24 years.
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