I was doing a gravel ride the other day when I encountered a problem that I’ve only seen happen in the mountains. A first-world mountain problem, if you will. No one’s going to starve, get hurt, or die but it did sort of mess up my plans for the day.
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In this season of transition between autumn riding and winter skiing it’s a good time to stop and reflect on the past year to give thanks for what we have.
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Peak bagging is a strange pastime. Getting up at gawdawful hours of the morning, driving all over the state to spend all day walking up and down steep slopes until your toenails turn black all because a mountain appears on some arbitrary list. Is a 13,000-foot mountain less worthy of climbing than a 14,000-foot mountain? No. But the 14,000-foot mountain is on a list. Actually, the 13,000-foot mountain is on a list too, a different list. But one list at a time.
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One of the things I love most about where we live is you can literally look out the window and see unlimited opportunities for adventure. What’s that mountain? Where does that drainage go? I wonder if there’s a trail up that? Everywhere you look there’s something new to explore and enjoy. I’m tremendously grateful.
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And for the ten of you who occasionally glance at this blog, thank you for your patience.
Continue reading* Chapeau to Doc Brown.
Greetings and happy 2022. May it be less of a shitshow than 2021, although the way things are going, it doesn’t look promising.
Although there are clearly more pressing matters in the world these days, I wanted to talk about something else on my mind: learning new things.
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