Feel that? The sun is shining. Birds are singing. The fever is finally breaking.
Continue readingmountain biking
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
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.
Continue readingEpic, as usual
When you’re new in town it’s important to talk to the locals to get the low down on how things, you know, work. Where are the good restaurants? Who’s your vet? Know a good car mechanic? And when a local asks you to participate in something, no matter what it is, you do it. Hey, want to go for a ride? Sure! We’re hiking tomorrow, you interested? Would love to! Goat yoga? In!
Continue readingSomewhere over the burning Rainbow
Our house is on Methodist mountain, the northern most peak in the Sangre de Cristo range. Methodist is more of a big green lump than something spectacular like the Sawatch range across the valley or the Sangres further south. Most of the peaks around here are named after Native American chiefs or ivy league colleges so I was curious how Methodist got its name. I did some research (ok, I Googled for 30 minutes) but didn’t turn up anything definitive on the name origin. I like to think that it had something to do with Methodist pioneers who lived in the area performing long-forgotten rituals in the woods, druid pot luck dinners, bingo games and such. But I digress.
Continue readingRolling on the Arkansas Hills
Just north of downtown Salida, at the end of F street is Tenderfoot hill, also known as S mountain because of the big Salida S on it. The Arkansas hills are the rugged hills behind Tenderfoot. Not that impressive to look at but oh lordy, perfect for mountain biking.
Continue readingNew Stomping Ground
I’ve frequently said that to be a cyclist in Houston, you have to REALLY like cycling. Pretty much everything is stacked against you.