tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23788795583516393662024-03-04T23:18:14.174-08:00Trip ReportsJeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.comBlogger248125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-80370882114982540432022-08-04T13:23:00.001-07:002022-08-04T13:58:11.115-07:00July 2022: Grand Canyon<p> 14-day Dory trip with <a href="https://www.gcex.com/" target="_blank">Grand Canyon Expeditions</a>. 280 miles from Lees Ferry to Pearce Ferry.</p><p> </p><p>Whitewater:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioVTZchwaPl32x1v5hoLlL71DmLWnYp3R4sXXMVyfbB4Bputrh25tQR5D0Pnb-w7v4wyvzsBlPsPl2N0G2mzHib-nz1sMTSWbYLG9cPziG6X7bBlU2WDSf6JhrBNa482J2SpjT5SlYGlPakwLhktTVNmpBAOVy9NC7WwO7qUSUNwaiPFdZcytRYW7V2g" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioVTZchwaPl32x1v5hoLlL71DmLWnYp3R4sXXMVyfbB4Bputrh25tQR5D0Pnb-w7v4wyvzsBlPsPl2N0G2mzHib-nz1sMTSWbYLG9cPziG6X7bBlU2WDSf6JhrBNa482J2SpjT5SlYGlPakwLhktTVNmpBAOVy9NC7WwO7qUSUNwaiPFdZcytRYW7V2g=w640-h427" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granite rapid: Capt Jim<span> in Hakatai</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbB_JI0Aww1dTH9WJ6nxQ9Cucv0SZ1ZMXUfixNKUHk78LmVLbjh0gdEH3SdqfvRxPrX_tKHuiAudK9IEnTSQ0TVDcJEZI5MOTiJRolLCOn2hrGm8VjWgtp84xmOuJ_9k8HWfTLxbiqYJ4WNTEX33iNTjIHl071iXbwdIWKuQQkp4VK5WotNi7PpXIiXg/s1000/992X4965-web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7lk64Ox1KssJoiru5TzI6zWgYKT1aHKQLdzr5rJaD2WlQBd9yePcRppVAVcJs2ZBpD_Lnf7lyV0CkP9Km6NNar1BsYgHHdxrsi-RphWsRaYcTOroRsylb231L9kJjISevhyfOep56-rDWl1CKwvguJWyuXnGMRykIgYRjmCa3dGf3adw24XW2wloO9A/s1000/992X4849-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7lk64Ox1KssJoiru5TzI6zWgYKT1aHKQLdzr5rJaD2WlQBd9yePcRppVAVcJs2ZBpD_Lnf7lyV0CkP9Km6NNar1BsYgHHdxrsi-RphWsRaYcTOroRsylb231L9kJjISevhyfOep56-rDWl1CKwvguJWyuXnGMRykIgYRjmCa3dGf3adw24XW2wloO9A/w640-h427/992X4849-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granite rapid: Capt KJ<span> in Zoroaster</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5JOsX-5PVchdqp1ul4GqzN5Ma1EkWuW6A5WTvufV6w4zIKja5SLawrO5y3ZNTXiuLstJ-olNqkAVUEtKRIv1nR_89OUfL00HGQbN6Fq02Duky0qG6hF-Ual0jiBozkjXbqtsBfMmPRRzzxzLRB5wRNvY2ppt6zRheMlmJ6D1Sf8sKpNg54C2rO3KIQ/s1000/992X4878-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5JOsX-5PVchdqp1ul4GqzN5Ma1EkWuW6A5WTvufV6w4zIKja5SLawrO5y3ZNTXiuLstJ-olNqkAVUEtKRIv1nR_89OUfL00HGQbN6Fq02Duky0qG6hF-Ual0jiBozkjXbqtsBfMmPRRzzxzLRB5wRNvY2ppt6zRheMlmJ6D1Sf8sKpNg54C2rO3KIQ/w640-h427/992X4878-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granite rapid: Capt Bruce<span> in One Eyed Jack<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSZG9ZUqaL8CqW252plZYauWoVKqGo4vGw564KoKtWLIVB54Na6bJHMD5kiUFhf-MDlIXQPWBfmqsNSd9btEQCOD4G1R4e3QwrOLZMI7yHmkC8mAy3npVNI1UrL3NuHDCCk7dzrjsjvIKKHG7R7TrK64JLxOIrcQHSziJbFRLj_dzCcCP8RrdpndeiA/s1000/992X4965-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSZG9ZUqaL8CqW252plZYauWoVKqGo4vGw564KoKtWLIVB54Na6bJHMD5kiUFhf-MDlIXQPWBfmqsNSd9btEQCOD4G1R4e3QwrOLZMI7yHmkC8mAy3npVNI1UrL3NuHDCCk7dzrjsjvIKKHG7R7TrK64JLxOIrcQHSziJbFRLj_dzCcCP8RrdpndeiA/w640-h427/992X4965-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hermit rapid: Capt Lew in Vishnu<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>Colors:<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPqu05qs6VIYi6Hud4s584JfUMq9WEpBvIgfNLGAg50mEHiS7ZLp0SqEmEKQojxFrw3OlkW3UFP0jGlcBCaYL_RYZ5aH44wXFjlN-MTLLVaEOsMIFDKRsiM8QoBLmlpBGZr2Jz6XpdBG_xqTvDqxODVwOapV3IgflKvlmBS8p1w-33kHqG3aqq2gkpQ/s1000/992X5837-web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPqu05qs6VIYi6Hud4s584JfUMq9WEpBvIgfNLGAg50mEHiS7ZLp0SqEmEKQojxFrw3OlkW3UFP0jGlcBCaYL_RYZ5aH44wXFjlN-MTLLVaEOsMIFDKRsiM8QoBLmlpBGZr2Jz6XpdBG_xqTvDqxODVwOapV3IgflKvlmBS8p1w-33kHqG3aqq2gkpQ/w640-h427/992X5837-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH-vq3J3Hx1ZEu6TGrz7dHz3es9KXVEO-61guyV1o6Ipyl75fPrkzug7RUZAQSdobNmGDAliuBsE1chfzWx7qqXYe-VzJ_A5CQYSjSnSf7t-wbr9GKGzbiN4C68Wu2-jG6wdoUm_C0h62FK5iwv92sxK1lLFB7NpX_fdruc_u9JZ5CqVaUyud9dDj1A/s1000/JK1_4477-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="667" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH-vq3J3Hx1ZEu6TGrz7dHz3es9KXVEO-61guyV1o6Ipyl75fPrkzug7RUZAQSdobNmGDAliuBsE1chfzWx7qqXYe-VzJ_A5CQYSjSnSf7t-wbr9GKGzbiN4C68Wu2-jG6wdoUm_C0h62FK5iwv92sxK1lLFB7NpX_fdruc_u9JZ5CqVaUyud9dDj1A/w427-h640/JK1_4477-web.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Wall Cavern<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4cPngOfUBjWMuFKChcQAKQURv8cdNTVIskuW-Gh9g_pLU9a3zGtlDYwRGU1mmuTv9i6cyh3O6L7TvevDPgxLNtOhPwO5qp8vy_mVaJZP-Kb_pugFq3EqrOltW_JGL0pKFNEGyBrDOpdbODJmGq7f4nLQ-HYAeBC26ED5Mnw-NNDcm95KGfqpcabnMw/s1000/JK1_5091-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="1000" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4cPngOfUBjWMuFKChcQAKQURv8cdNTVIskuW-Gh9g_pLU9a3zGtlDYwRGU1mmuTv9i6cyh3O6L7TvevDPgxLNtOhPwO5qp8vy_mVaJZP-Kb_pugFq3EqrOltW_JGL0pKFNEGyBrDOpdbODJmGq7f4nLQ-HYAeBC26ED5Mnw-NNDcm95KGfqpcabnMw/w640-h381/JK1_5091-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bedrock rapid: Capt Duffy in Escalante<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kWsgb2PL4uUsGOf-rR5ljVWriSeXicEfPsopwbaotc8NhrCzCstZkgR4RrM5uYu_B7ghQs9IrrufcwswVUKZhV7ydgvAq-mRfRIqtinKhQAECsmW2snwgEkfv5sfhVDbLVV9kvNu7_JtQur49fwALF60C4FgsvhIDVL22VbbMM1upuiH082pMqv3pg/s1000/IMG_E4254-web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="1000" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kWsgb2PL4uUsGOf-rR5ljVWriSeXicEfPsopwbaotc8NhrCzCstZkgR4RrM5uYu_B7ghQs9IrrufcwswVUKZhV7ydgvAq-mRfRIqtinKhQAECsmW2snwgEkfv5sfhVDbLVV9kvNu7_JtQur49fwALF60C4FgsvhIDVL22VbbMM1upuiH082pMqv3pg/w640-h326/IMG_E4254-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Moods:<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwM8e4l_o2tcBzZkKXQYa9volwMm_z3VUvo8O36jUUZt0B9pF07qlqOewxCBpCIDVQsrdcmwKmPlHED9QtPSMiOvXaQiIdxqcPIof1l80s-t1ekurMfCtoGq_lqeXUGfVmCO4CihHx3AxC6eJsBq-WAbWtqwd-Elzk_q6yKRrocY1stVeIUB4qzCtmw/s1000/JK1_4934-web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="1000" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwM8e4l_o2tcBzZkKXQYa9volwMm_z3VUvo8O36jUUZt0B9pF07qlqOewxCBpCIDVQsrdcmwKmPlHED9QtPSMiOvXaQiIdxqcPIof1l80s-t1ekurMfCtoGq_lqeXUGfVmCO4CihHx3AxC6eJsBq-WAbWtqwd-Elzk_q6yKRrocY1stVeIUB4qzCtmw/w640-h363/JK1_4934-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbI1eVC7oOpFt6rBxYWBXMIJfgt8KVyC9HfIKkV7ZBMAwyOA7SrdiO-omi3OnlZZem01McAj8cPpalcb93ebbM-dgG-zmqn85Jq5pxIUYy9RCqUdYrwXhuRftp_4jvQRbUtyJPy2OKPlekOYt6SCsDT5HlpF57KCup178oVaJd1VGypv8gIh-Qlun9g/s1000/JK1_4953-web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="667" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbI1eVC7oOpFt6rBxYWBXMIJfgt8KVyC9HfIKkV7ZBMAwyOA7SrdiO-omi3OnlZZem01McAj8cPpalcb93ebbM-dgG-zmqn85Jq5pxIUYy9RCqUdYrwXhuRftp_4jvQRbUtyJPy2OKPlekOYt6SCsDT5HlpF57KCup178oVaJd1VGypv8gIh-Qlun9g/w427-h640/JK1_4953-web.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8hSv_jKSmAH4Cu2MtZkbJctQwvLFlhqF456i9iIHSQ9FSc9T8mppCLGWcGcQrkha9aYD7qQoiV8Is72ReZZSLuEUV5sDj9ARIrzH2CemBvERuXtF6opOX4eGLHgdXcuqxYc652wBBCVfj2x30EpgaVlyYexov8peRLjCjh2aKUUINXDsIYvYINEX4g/s1000/JK1_4974-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8hSv_jKSmAH4Cu2MtZkbJctQwvLFlhqF456i9iIHSQ9FSc9T8mppCLGWcGcQrkha9aYD7qQoiV8Is72ReZZSLuEUV5sDj9ARIrzH2CemBvERuXtF6opOX4eGLHgdXcuqxYc652wBBCVfj2x30EpgaVlyYexov8peRLjCjh2aKUUINXDsIYvYINEX4g/w640-h427/JK1_4974-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tapeats sandstone<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUoJxgmQiU9FNTRdpPVW8lupb-al-5Ouv0vmmLuLuKl8ZRMqsnb642RwULpXp8T3I1p6YQss6gyFzJp8DMsbNi60xTI4xjhZO7mYDBVYWKLkfikIUhuKX_lYnaYQASb2oLtA2ImpXMYYw8uNAWGQjUZgywJEd1R1IvrhCSgYl21yaQw2vyW_uSz4i8g/s1000/992X6120-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="667" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUoJxgmQiU9FNTRdpPVW8lupb-al-5Ouv0vmmLuLuKl8ZRMqsnb642RwULpXp8T3I1p6YQss6gyFzJp8DMsbNi60xTI4xjhZO7mYDBVYWKLkfikIUhuKX_lYnaYQASb2oLtA2ImpXMYYw8uNAWGQjUZgywJEd1R1IvrhCSgYl21yaQw2vyW_uSz4i8g/w427-h640/992X6120-web.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monsoon Afternoon<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-35472248184577100492022-06-14T14:53:00.001-07:002022-06-14T15:00:24.759-07:00June 2022: 100 Hole Hike and Wisconsin golf road trip<p>The 100 Hole Hike raises money for Youth On Course to subsidize green fees for kids. With an annual membership of only $20, kids can play each round of golf for $5 or less. YOC now has nearly 2000 member courses, in all 50 states, and 150,000 youth members. Hikers raised $2 million in 2021, which sustains the steady growth of the program. In 2022, we’re hoping for $3 million.</p><p>Visit <a href="http://YouthOnCourse.org">YouthOnCourse.org</a> to learn more. Check out <a href="http://www.100holehike.org">www.100holehike.org</a> to get involved.<br /><br />The first Hike of the season took place in Kohler, WI. Eight players completed 100 holes on the 10-hole par-3 Baths course at Blackwolf Run, while three of us finished a one-of-a-kind multi-course routing of full-length championship courses supplemented with par threes.<br /><br />Monday June 6.<br />The rain starts at midnight, steadily strengthening as we prepare for a 4:45am tee time at Whistling Straits.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJg6cid0DWh6fvNGn6vryNMDLNXDZqMOqYRJ728W_W64Fm9Gr9Tri3POX-7rxPmyj2TZh3yuMmSn2QIGGxtiwsE8stDpDUCELJGmUZsdGJ1-X0RT0ZQ5Tx_lI-BWk7JXhIym1MfIkCk8eH-xo-_NlAm5TN7fwMKxgjW6henWPsr5K5Sf1endvyAGvLOw" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="4876" data-original-width="2643" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJg6cid0DWh6fvNGn6vryNMDLNXDZqMOqYRJ728W_W64Fm9Gr9Tri3POX-7rxPmyj2TZh3yuMmSn2QIGGxtiwsE8stDpDUCELJGmUZsdGJ1-X0RT0ZQ5Tx_lI-BWk7JXhIym1MfIkCk8eH-xo-_NlAm5TN7fwMKxgjW6henWPsr5K5Sf1endvyAGvLOw=w347-h640" width="347" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy Dylan Bloch. IG @DylanGolfs<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><p>With LED glow-in-the-dark golf balls, we tee off 30 minutes before sunrise. With no prior knowledge of the course, we make our way through the routing by guessing, aiming, hitting, searching, repeating.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5EeQQUxFUQkpP7fJMdvsh-igFhYVD4jn_fZ80g4gskUYGR3JeEqDyWJQNrZuvgdXRHVKCXRyEtXTZcTDq8cUPzRcUONDfo4ObUcUX_ObAZm5XRL1OAtWz0tQ38wD16kHtlakLpFLnO8vxKs3o6eDXJDRAIHvRA6AfqIFxcjiLF1xpIYvIMNlv3Cvnng"><img data-original-height="1757" data-original-width="2784" height="405" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5EeQQUxFUQkpP7fJMdvsh-igFhYVD4jn_fZ80g4gskUYGR3JeEqDyWJQNrZuvgdXRHVKCXRyEtXTZcTDq8cUPzRcUONDfo4ObUcUX_ObAZm5XRL1OAtWz0tQ38wD16kHtlakLpFLnO8vxKs3o6eDXJDRAIHvRA6AfqIFxcjiLF1xpIYvIMNlv3Cvnng=w640-h405" width="640" /></a><br /></div><p>We finish 9 holes in 1:01, happy, giddy, and completed drenched. Even with superb rain gear and hat, the wet is unavoidable. To play fast, we carry lightweight bags, use only 5 clubs, take no practice swings, give ourselves plenty of putts, hit simultaneously, and play from the forward tees.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirk_m5VFmoupzEFmQxfoEwR7giO66iJZoI2PqIYO70SPeweKnMTa5i6e4erCVI_3Ffk9IH0ChpHbFEohD1V8YXiqnHKTgW-uc1oS_XOWnJlRyXYEYvZ5Ui5K5CmTp14i0bMIhyQ9BJ-5VI-vOLZJHODUgMkvyY-AwBB_lE_4pJqop9OPMJWNwzsnNazw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="1941" data-original-width="3450" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirk_m5VFmoupzEFmQxfoEwR7giO66iJZoI2PqIYO70SPeweKnMTa5i6e4erCVI_3Ffk9IH0ChpHbFEohD1V8YXiqnHKTgW-uc1oS_XOWnJlRyXYEYvZ5Ui5K5CmTp14i0bMIhyQ9BJ-5VI-vOLZJHODUgMkvyY-AwBB_lE_4pJqop9OPMJWNwzsnNazw=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVXSAbKdoGGFT2NzNxTA84rkzCZ6ZlqCpRZRq_ko-erCPB1FNSZqEcnHP-7zx7DA4CwskfdkyuLzO04PP3fQ3KHdNiq1oMExaMu00x8l37HanK8sbHrzKpfpjx4qshqiCJBHy8_ZZFc9Lzsfr9jUeaK0u7ujUioSx7-9wJx00-nB_x_JZQehav-ubC0g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVXSAbKdoGGFT2NzNxTA84rkzCZ6ZlqCpRZRq_ko-erCPB1FNSZqEcnHP-7zx7DA4CwskfdkyuLzO04PP3fQ3KHdNiq1oMExaMu00x8l37HanK8sbHrzKpfpjx4qshqiCJBHy8_ZZFc9Lzsfr9jUeaK0u7ujUioSx7-9wJx00-nB_x_JZQehav-ubC0g=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><br />We raise our pace the last few holes to finish the loop in 1:59. Usually
Straits takes over 5 hours, so it’s special to zip through so quickly.<br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiiF4u1L-6_5uuwUhN4xREnpzb6BR27x706a2MF2GYXwyQ3Ctb7ZFNMLmqu0BZN9GUUa_aqeQYcLYTi0J39RSBel8X9pH4b7dgg71EJWWeSvcJGDOt2BpeV8ZbSAhXwMyir0zNf3KDCfm2pX8HiAT2LOj4gz3__R0-BzYJpUnfT4M3HyXNgZ3cayyGd_A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2481" data-original-width="3909" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiiF4u1L-6_5uuwUhN4xREnpzb6BR27x706a2MF2GYXwyQ3Ctb7ZFNMLmqu0BZN9GUUa_aqeQYcLYTi0J39RSBel8X9pH4b7dgg71EJWWeSvcJGDOt2BpeV8ZbSAhXwMyir0zNf3KDCfm2pX8HiAT2LOj4gz3__R0-BzYJpUnfT4M3HyXNgZ3cayyGd_A=w640-h406" width="640" /> </a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOzauxw_u37BzyHJNUvgLJ4-uTeDf3Ma7z6OVoUF6GF5Ymif2h4HaB5YCaJ5sPUzEg7amar1LX2JqsooeMicG8U1jBAEgECTJYhigr9ZrlgRw02ie_DZkyXarhtO0v1TWKLlKMbKmKS39L3n0dXAMg0z-V7yrYPR8KqRNZtb60urfHLfP8eaNw-nbe9w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2928" data-original-width="2928" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOzauxw_u37BzyHJNUvgLJ4-uTeDf3Ma7z6OVoUF6GF5Ymif2h4HaB5YCaJ5sPUzEg7amar1LX2JqsooeMicG8U1jBAEgECTJYhigr9ZrlgRw02ie_DZkyXarhtO0v1TWKLlKMbKmKS39L3n0dXAMg0z-V7yrYPR8KqRNZtb60urfHLfP8eaNw-nbe9w=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><img data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiWUrA7kfxVYGLKvvBC3P_H5FXu5Ne0xd5hL3hibjR46qwb8tnG-uJv2oIsNmKk61nfo4TGsXVFQckkPb6nOKTgksa8WSxkG6YNVK_-MTMcE6ZSw1qcv5tCe_uH8wCnG9lv0m1nZbDjrjv8NAgffwLme1mkDp0LwVEY3PWKcoT742u2IyVsNFQYFObLEA=w360-h640" width="360" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />We change socks at the car, probably pointless, and turn for lap two at the adjacent Irish course. By 7am, the regular golfers are lining up to start. As the rain freshens, their mood is dour, but we laugh as we march past. The starter asks if we’re headed out to play.<br />Yes.<br />“Do you need a caddie?”<br />No.<br />“Do you need a scorecard?”<br />No.<br />“Do you know where you’re going?”<br />No!<br />We never break stride, holding our 2-hr pace straight through the gate. Perplexed, he obviously doesn’t know what we’re doing or how much fun we’re having. We howl in laughter as we tee it up for round two, 7:01am, right on time.<p></p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiH9CD1sbMqnBET9baUfLee647_mGz2IaZGld5ZJF4yZTqiOToqnYKaCMI2SX-Qo0buQMxW5xRX-2oMFDZ9fP6NYMrPH-SrYKnI7eogumCE3yF0BJbiOdyxhanqTNrlmE6jx2eaAtRgEgk2mTWNIgPfcXoiji97uFYeEoVNGhfkAFNCagRMsTKzWpKCXw" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="2487" data-original-width="4032" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiH9CD1sbMqnBET9baUfLee647_mGz2IaZGld5ZJF4yZTqiOToqnYKaCMI2SX-Qo0buQMxW5xRX-2oMFDZ9fP6NYMrPH-SrYKnI7eogumCE3yF0BJbiOdyxhanqTNrlmE6jx2eaAtRgEgk2mTWNIgPfcXoiji97uFYeEoVNGhfkAFNCagRMsTKzWpKCXw=w640-h394" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeremy, Adam, Devin<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The rain ebbs and flows, but the wind stays low. We navigate the beautiful Irish routing, in awe as each hole reveals itself to us. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsqy3_wDLuEbCyorL12cRnG66crtoTQGZJsytyxCVPoE0g-caKpSqajtk6RDpgXY2GBp8lVqAJ1EblNZ1811uGdbwMSaF4bedvdEXWu1QaMcrf6_VJqjmRSJF0DnnBZeXB9BoJQJffmAkoK6sdUGaI8eahjfH-7C9pH6zQysB-B1trFH_wfPAEDTYoDw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsqy3_wDLuEbCyorL12cRnG66crtoTQGZJsytyxCVPoE0g-caKpSqajtk6RDpgXY2GBp8lVqAJ1EblNZ1811uGdbwMSaF4bedvdEXWu1QaMcrf6_VJqjmRSJF0DnnBZeXB9BoJQJffmAkoK6sdUGaI8eahjfH-7C9pH6zQysB-B1trFH_wfPAEDTYoDw=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>The bunkers churn to thick cement and the fairways are soggy as slush. Venturing into the tall fescue grass is like dangling your legs in a lake, only wetter. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGG60NkJtNd3Lt-NkMV-u1rPJmMHu7DpNy75KnHiKvOFa_uABs9MOvWYWsx5CO2njeLf1m1jDMJU-WDcOJRyB0Fz6xeO-TNm0yvy6ZP2dICqfv-X0RFOWWu-WcmdYvMkDoSgdOTjbpQk96ohT4VXWnFGz0iyTEmTJ5m5e3K6FewfUYY_6K_JsnLkUsfg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGG60NkJtNd3Lt-NkMV-u1rPJmMHu7DpNy75KnHiKvOFa_uABs9MOvWYWsx5CO2njeLf1m1jDMJU-WDcOJRyB0Fz6xeO-TNm0yvy6ZP2dICqfv-X0RFOWWu-WcmdYvMkDoSgdOTjbpQk96ohT4VXWnFGz0iyTEmTJ5m5e3K6FewfUYY_6K_JsnLkUsfg=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>Squish squish swish swish, I wring my gloves before each shot, hoping for a little grip.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgp1dSZLCkwMm6HaSqM3BHK5u9zc4pflZ7fgwHHO3Crqmc1GxY1JjDGFaxu6FPe2HHk0U05AFQ97TSNP26O5alqhXBfVFFfw7A0rE91byuIdaa-RCjb2s4-EYVMu_Sap4rxwAzL5hyG8Di77UcWkFrIG_hqSEg9nYfLRycE4cdMXNMdgmQEhq_tINSYyg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2092" data-original-width="3720" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgp1dSZLCkwMm6HaSqM3BHK5u9zc4pflZ7fgwHHO3Crqmc1GxY1JjDGFaxu6FPe2HHk0U05AFQ97TSNP26O5alqhXBfVFFfw7A0rE91byuIdaa-RCjb2s4-EYVMu_Sap4rxwAzL5hyG8Di77UcWkFrIG_hqSEg9nYfLRycE4cdMXNMdgmQEhq_tINSYyg=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>The back nine is magically fun, even as the puddles deepen and the rain remains. We crest the 18th approach and complete the loop in 2:01.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjfF4RuoJiYBFz5L7s4EDJNw7uVyo47RiqMUVVbO9XhYhl4cUN7mmGGAQpZ5Qaik_PFz5xthdOk7XymNoZ2M5DvaaGFcIv5ISPQCF4ybdPNusP55yfuTLuYwPzRL-2h70BuNL0Pg5gTVcpsMIrxpaiulDQ7ZX5QW6qtGZf23lFk0EPwPIcIK4-L85tyKw" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjfF4RuoJiYBFz5L7s4EDJNw7uVyo47RiqMUVVbO9XhYhl4cUN7mmGGAQpZ5Qaik_PFz5xthdOk7XymNoZ2M5DvaaGFcIv5ISPQCF4ybdPNusP55yfuTLuYwPzRL-2h70BuNL0Pg5gTVcpsMIrxpaiulDQ7ZX5QW6qtGZf23lFk0EPwPIcIK4-L85tyKw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy Adam Schafer<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Back to the car for a 20 minute drive to Blackwolf Run. There’s a guard at the entrance, checking credentials for the high school State Championship. He squints at us, dripping wet, and doesn’t believe we’ve already played. As nice as everyone we meet in Wisconsin, the worst he can say is a smiling, “Aw, you’re full of it!”<br />We edit our bags for the par-3 Baths course and shuttle over to meet the others. We have just enough time for 2 loops: 20 par-3’s in 1:05.<br />Again to the car, for full bags this time, we rush to the River course for an 11:40 start time. The holes ahead look clear, maybe the rain has scared them away. We play 3 holes in 30 minutes, our slowest pace yet, before a roadblock at the par-3 4th. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwvIXbiNrnhMwEmWSTkFgOkb-eIu4peSx92TCYZqnMWyOG1fRReclyykUb9fSoGMH1vdAhW4MJ4ZQgtUFrd65iWm_OTVhUHdMwB3sqrgBcsCTna3JNn4y78D5N42gamLKBCLadNY6d5eWmxL_2XOOi-W6g-2KNQR9_KGNa6qVTYEHy6N1rtoYIwJLovw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2132" data-original-width="3784" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwvIXbiNrnhMwEmWSTkFgOkb-eIu4peSx92TCYZqnMWyOG1fRReclyykUb9fSoGMH1vdAhW4MJ4ZQgtUFrd65iWm_OTVhUHdMwB3sqrgBcsCTna3JNn4y78D5N42gamLKBCLadNY6d5eWmxL_2XOOi-W6g-2KNQR9_KGNa6qVTYEHy6N1rtoYIwJLovw=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>It takes 29 minutes to play a single hole, mind-numbingly slow, as the rain rebuilds and drenches us anew. Luckily, the beer cart saves the day. After 59 holes, and the finish in sight, a round of beers lifts the mood for the holes ahead. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAAikXOuCO2CO5VuYmirxu2szr_Vthul_OktzwcMX2MzuIPBvSB6cg1D93c3XPEb7e5P1YO8z3v1JsaTVZlatHz7-YdfaIeOdvEwcbiyYaKDA2MilJgfFRwixNMdKIBW3wwb6wDf4CJxzd5Bkf1mcYGZgq9zxbVz4DUTO1Gx4ttSWT4RkTgx7S8sRI9w" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="2800" data-original-width="4032" height="445" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAAikXOuCO2CO5VuYmirxu2szr_Vthul_OktzwcMX2MzuIPBvSB6cg1D93c3XPEb7e5P1YO8z3v1JsaTVZlatHz7-YdfaIeOdvEwcbiyYaKDA2MilJgfFRwixNMdKIBW3wwb6wDf4CJxzd5Bkf1mcYGZgq9zxbVz4DUTO1Gx4ttSWT4RkTgx7S8sRI9w=w640-h445" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy beer<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>The River is a tough walk, with long connectors between green and tee. Due to steady rain, it’s cart-path only for those ahead, which only slows the pace as they must walk to and fro’ to find and hit their balls.<br />By the 7th, with the pace nearly unbearable, the boys want to walk it in, to return to the par-3 for an easier finish, but they forget how stubborn I am. I convince them to at least play 9, then we’ll decide. Ironically, and poetically, the 9th green is nowhere near the clubhouse. It’s actually as far away as you can get. There’s no quitting now. To our great relief, there is a snack shack at 9, with cold beers and bratwursts. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj03-d5tM822XKm9W9Gv6oMKm1jB9YC4r_e1Rqchw0SY2jGoq4jNe9v14k_glVUqRSuersWd7X1lk2iut5UAVNUFR5en3RnWVB6yy7HtcQ1nNMhiZvtQDVgxsqi5tnUI_sEMD7cFEoAkp6yzcMaCV-6eOXT1OPmlzfpD-5zifkXQ4nEZvnggvAwTN22kg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj03-d5tM822XKm9W9Gv6oMKm1jB9YC4r_e1Rqchw0SY2jGoq4jNe9v14k_glVUqRSuersWd7X1lk2iut5UAVNUFR5en3RnWVB6yy7HtcQ1nNMhiZvtQDVgxsqi5tnUI_sEMD7cFEoAkp6yzcMaCV-6eOXT1OPmlzfpD-5zifkXQ4nEZvnggvAwTN22kg=w360-h640" width="360" /></a></div><p></p><p>COMPLIMENTARY bratwursts. Even in a day when gimme’s are freely given, nothing in golf is free. We pause, rest, sit, and eat. Free brats boost our mood. It’s a good thing we stay, as holes 9-14 are the best of the loop. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKIzN1YvK57JsQWLtqbBPRnoKMMFBwmCdhyqSt7WC5c3E2f7uOcQBOdMrwYNbpSzeiC5pmAdUzRQMw4ISdZ9alqFPDzHWTyWC3YL3LQctOoZrjZTlG6oTH7kcVmc9v6F5u994JW-lk2SeBiq3Ibici-Ai8-AheopXIzjICpHZOVtJO6CpO2lw8L-sc3Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2049" data-original-width="3643" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKIzN1YvK57JsQWLtqbBPRnoKMMFBwmCdhyqSt7WC5c3E2f7uOcQBOdMrwYNbpSzeiC5pmAdUzRQMw4ISdZ9alqFPDzHWTyWC3YL3LQctOoZrjZTlG6oTH7kcVmc9v6F5u994JW-lk2SeBiq3Ibici-Ai8-AheopXIzjICpHZOVtJO6CpO2lw8L-sc3Q=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgfC45VeusghlGDRRBPwjPAZvoZqX2rTyJgT70CmfKHr1kyHjz7SoSCavjkv1W4Cud1RLCPAZPJMDTMx5HhpZuHhEZLOv5-usGCELTn0z2RKKtmeS9rKPoy6Ze1iFVRiEpUjo9STsipijmmJKEpH9XVs_VVtKmWAeKqjm3NboGPmi15dWlwLGiOTFerw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2173" data-original-width="3857" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgfC45VeusghlGDRRBPwjPAZvoZqX2rTyJgT70CmfKHr1kyHjz7SoSCavjkv1W4Cud1RLCPAZPJMDTMx5HhpZuHhEZLOv5-usGCELTn0z2RKKtmeS9rKPoy6Ze1iFVRiEpUjo9STsipijmmJKEpH9XVs_VVtKmWAeKqjm3NboGPmi15dWlwLGiOTFerw=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>With another chance to walk it in, the guys are ready to sign the cards, but a little coaxing and a friendly wager are just the ticket to stick it out. The wait on 15 is so bad that we visit the proshop to buy a warm layer, without ever missing a turn. Who goes shopping in the middle of a round?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIAU35_YJUfH4aijOFjkR7IJdREesWVCU6KP4NWa7fNBg6PsKgiuiZiHRuLQ3RKR2-19h74AmV4WtSSnYEB0Q0TfijmcW7Ssnjx4ch0Ug0c_m_CDqCVZOaH4hhuHjhizsFDq7Yc8E5cAy2Zfzs9MSq3jW9s5TWE8Emc26j8LLe3TleZYAlmytZOAf3qg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3582" data-original-width="2013" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIAU35_YJUfH4aijOFjkR7IJdREesWVCU6KP4NWa7fNBg6PsKgiuiZiHRuLQ3RKR2-19h74AmV4WtSSnYEB0Q0TfijmcW7Ssnjx4ch0Ug0c_m_CDqCVZOaH4hhuHjhizsFDq7Yc8E5cAy2Zfzs9MSq3jW9s5TWE8Emc26j8LLe3TleZYAlmytZOAf3qg=w360-h640" width="360" /></a></div><br />We finish the loop in 4:43, which probably feels normal to the other groups, but is painfully slow for us. Rushing back to the Baths, with 74 holes under our belts, our finish is assured. With a single club and ball each, we pitch and putt for another 1:14 to complete the 100. We play through an 8-some on our 99th hole, beer flowing, speakers pumping, having the best time, and I’m thrilled to stick one tight and lightly blade it in for birdie. There’s no better feeling than playing through and making 2’s.<br />One more: green, putt, gimme, done.<br />We’ve walked 24 miles in 13 hours, 100 holes, success. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnhoj7Jp5px1k6PHm6vffgSwOIBL5JueL3ZLl7JF-vSz4L3252JstgPLweRFa8o7vfge6MI8un8DBziGE9k8V-86qYnD78BzegY0hbPprP5jLWmv1-THTMPoRt7irCAsn_mRhGfocz4vHObmbp8Q9a4MjDm_m1IgDa1l7qNElbIdwZ7w22Ct0UmYkd0A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnhoj7Jp5px1k6PHm6vffgSwOIBL5JueL3ZLl7JF-vSz4L3252JstgPLweRFa8o7vfge6MI8un8DBziGE9k8V-86qYnD78BzegY0hbPprP5jLWmv1-THTMPoRt7irCAsn_mRhGfocz4vHObmbp8Q9a4MjDm_m1IgDa1l7qNElbIdwZ7w22Ct0UmYkd0A=w360-h640" width="360" /></a></div><br />Our group of 11 players has raised $150,000 today, enough to subsidize over 20,000 rounds of golf for YOC members. Actually, that’s the best feeling.<br />Thank you!<br />We are so grateful for your support.<br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8LIyxu1sS_x2Uy0BBnzYvTMZ7bziwYG0hNO6VwAfaus5Md4hKALa1q5b1x6sb2c9bCDxdm9dglugpggYU2XWs7P1nvy_69ieMuIHmtf0zFdyMw2-olJdTQYjSlRKe7aPb-8LP1dxgn-Qjp8Tu1jan7xT9pF80FyyOfWdWrIwPmrygdS2wuumh7Z00Hg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="6229" data-original-width="4092" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8LIyxu1sS_x2Uy0BBnzYvTMZ7bziwYG0hNO6VwAfaus5Md4hKALa1q5b1x6sb2c9bCDxdm9dglugpggYU2XWs7P1nvy_69ieMuIHmtf0zFdyMw2-olJdTQYjSlRKe7aPb-8LP1dxgn-Qjp8Tu1jan7xT9pF80FyyOfWdWrIwPmrygdS2wuumh7Z00Hg=w421-h640" width="421" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy Dylan Bloch<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br />………….<br /><br /><br />Part II.<br />A change in plan affords me the chance to see more of Wisconsin. Adjusting flights, hotels, and rental, scooping up tee times, I make my way west to Minnesota, a whimsical road trip to see the best golf courses en route.<br /><br />Tuesday June 7.<br /><b>Whistling Straits, Straits Course</b>. <u>Ranked #3</u> on Golf Digest’s greatest public courses. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8LI6l_JNeKpDUsxMDDDDYWDwfWW_NwgP6CCkOkF7CrFUi8mTzKMTuILEKdz9HhSpW8D9f6X_UDpJP6UWOcbLkmlpygQEmkLgYd9wFlliVCHikdf5P1ePaiWffz5NCHXiAAarVzdEge_7fOXWR0MAdL8D7P7zseubQi-sF6S8JUY6ENZuUdRrGw66DLg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8LI6l_JNeKpDUsxMDDDDYWDwfWW_NwgP6CCkOkF7CrFUi8mTzKMTuILEKdz9HhSpW8D9f6X_UDpJP6UWOcbLkmlpygQEmkLgYd9wFlliVCHikdf5P1ePaiWffz5NCHXiAAarVzdEge_7fOXWR0MAdL8D7P7zseubQi-sF6S8JUY6ENZuUdRrGw66DLg=w361-h640" width="361" /></a></div><p></p><p>12:20pm tee time. Partly foggy, gentle breeze, paired with new friends. I start well, bogey-free thru 13, before my scoreboard-watching gets the best of me. From seeing red, to a 73. Finished in 5:05. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGopPTS_t8eo2G9DSYtP2yXucSvkGjXTQkYXX2TzPXIM3sRzB9hPJmB1RVWgBXtMj3tpUdbJ5AoPk--6KUPSpdURInUibVzRx0N8NjBw390s_4AGP6oN4msiTuBCOwwErmM8b9YcsNsLWSUzoHnrVtYVEpi__kSfkFqv8tiqDZnZKUFZFI51GtvBHc-w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3914" data-original-width="10442" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGopPTS_t8eo2G9DSYtP2yXucSvkGjXTQkYXX2TzPXIM3sRzB9hPJmB1RVWgBXtMj3tpUdbJ5AoPk--6KUPSpdURInUibVzRx0N8NjBw390s_4AGP6oN4msiTuBCOwwErmM8b9YcsNsLWSUzoHnrVtYVEpi__kSfkFqv8tiqDZnZKUFZFI51GtvBHc-w=w640-h240" width="640" /></a></div>Review:<br />Straits is stunningly beautiful, but the lasting memory is an unpalatable 2:45 front 9. 5hr+ rounds just shouldn’t exist, regardless of walking-only major-caliber pedigree. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLxkOk-AOcq0sICOMNsqdqhG3vZnspFxqSDrD_kmuBfScfUD7yDOloRnE3_cF3DsZspN5_x2oc6qsQMlVgt9f18tJDskJ6BsJDSsnnu1fsLa8wnc_LTHZ6DZ7wgOUUT6l1rABPWyDHKHg-BHKRIJzeh-A2nqKIx0yFKFSs_vJa-NvLhSpuJZ-wRHdC4Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3597" data-original-width="12412" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLxkOk-AOcq0sICOMNsqdqhG3vZnspFxqSDrD_kmuBfScfUD7yDOloRnE3_cF3DsZspN5_x2oc6qsQMlVgt9f18tJDskJ6BsJDSsnnu1fsLa8wnc_LTHZ6DZ7wgOUUT6l1rABPWyDHKHg-BHKRIJzeh-A2nqKIx0yFKFSs_vJa-NvLhSpuJZ-wRHdC4Q=w640-h186" width="640" /></a></div><br />I found the tee shots rather plain, just ripped driver down the middle all day. It’s all about the second shots, which were more complex and interesting. Punishing misses and glorious rewards. <br />The price point is hard to swallow, but the set of four par-3’s are the best I’ve played. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzdCxoSr89MSGWMb6PTBnSMeWnvFG_uAF5QvZX4WKNrQoTKeRQHJMUx1nBtMxb0yPP3noqQfQc8YVRGRGzsEmj3Io4lVYaGRDGPR-44EJ717ERxT_36uK2pMNBohhktFDVKkyzG4tydZljXjgF0MYGGcRmr8PV_UEyiom7YDM_hLclmt5pbN-e4CjPaQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3475" data-original-width="10215" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzdCxoSr89MSGWMb6PTBnSMeWnvFG_uAF5QvZX4WKNrQoTKeRQHJMUx1nBtMxb0yPP3noqQfQc8YVRGRGzsEmj3Io4lVYaGRDGPR-44EJ717ERxT_36uK2pMNBohhktFDVKkyzG4tydZljXjgF0MYGGcRmr8PV_UEyiom7YDM_hLclmt5pbN-e4CjPaQ=w640-h218" width="640" /></a></div><br />From memory, the 100 Hike at <b>Whistling Straits, Irish Course</b>. <u>Ranked #47</u>.<br />Review: <br />The Irish course exceeds all expectations. With less hype, and no scouting, I fell in love with the green-to-tee walks, each one a revelation of gorgeous shaping and design. It’s all about the tee shots, with a variety of clubs and angles. The approaches were mostly straightforward after finding the fairway. <br /><br /><b>Blackwolf Run, River Course</b>. <u>Ranked #16</u>.<br />Review:<br />The River course has the best tee shots in Destination Kohler. 3 5 6 7 8 9 11 12 13 14 15 16, well shit, that’s all of em, each one provides incredible views, angles, or decisions. Real strategy, risk reward, huge carries, cut the corner, lay it back, all right in front of you. It’s a much harder walk than the others, including some obnoxious transitions (4-5, 13-14).<br />The river holes, particularly 9, 13 (play the 230 tips!!), and 16 are superbly satisfying to the strategist’s soul. <p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhy7wY1icU6Eqv7rV2gRI8QpA1Yb3A5TmFcJDGgsF7j_ewlVR6oe06pHn-fSwM3C3H6gBOJIm-6IrEAFNMo9o9HyluuVsHkfM1aZyCtE_vTEmcsiXKHZ52Me7No9kO-72rCt1gEpMlZW6d5oSvhIKlPUV3IGyI_To8qRTS9dcWv4oLFgd4mbUIbjRFkWQ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhy7wY1icU6Eqv7rV2gRI8QpA1Yb3A5TmFcJDGgsF7j_ewlVR6oe06pHn-fSwM3C3H6gBOJIm-6IrEAFNMo9o9HyluuVsHkfM1aZyCtE_vTEmcsiXKHZ52Me7No9kO-72rCt1gEpMlZW6d5oSvhIKlPUV3IGyI_To8qRTS9dcWv4oLFgd4mbUIbjRFkWQ=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blackwolf Run, River Course, hole 13, par 3, 231 yards.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br />Wednesday June 8.<br /><b>Erin Hills</b>. <u>Ranked #9</u>.<br />8:15am tee time. Pouring rain. I mean absolutely dumping. The tee sheet empties but I go out anyway.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUo5srv09FtrIbFxZB6iDK7pD2ISl53xFBWsLljro0xwkdM83j0lySaVGG2iuwfcB0z6pLfRurCBLvN7z3o4KSG1jfxfbI0nwZuje2p6N9Rlfj6t5P-FvoJqtRAJFkmyV-_cWDkLA9YcOTgZID3B8zu3eLDhE0-QamUx6iPFV47it0_wV5NnrAY-mBTg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUo5srv09FtrIbFxZB6iDK7pD2ISl53xFBWsLljro0xwkdM83j0lySaVGG2iuwfcB0z6pLfRurCBLvN7z3o4KSG1jfxfbI0nwZuje2p6N9Rlfj6t5P-FvoJqtRAJFkmyV-_cWDkLA9YcOTgZID3B8zu3eLDhE0-QamUx6iPFV47it0_wV5NnrAY-mBTg=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div>Paired with another single for 9 holes, I struggle with the angles and hills, hitting good shots to bad places and bad shots to oblivion. My partner, without rain gear, bails at the turn, and I get the back 9 to myself. I stand on the highest point, survey the entire course and see only one group in play. I adapt to the wet, taking 2 extra clubs, swinging gently and manage to make mostly pars coming home. Finished in 3:01. The average expected pace is 5hr+.<p></p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8f7B8a0C_II4oC66baPUcY0T8ehAs1dVdIdmLarQ2q3pQ0cLuqYJEuHIns5iI-K4kthmsSWagwComS8Un_UPa-dVeiLCZG6kiiZTMUb9L71nUqVgV-vM4f4UmnlXz_OhUom9Ydd4cipVaJNUQS44Pnu7QSL4WZScBMwuCf63_5VeKBQdHn6DkEKlUGw" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8f7B8a0C_II4oC66baPUcY0T8ehAs1dVdIdmLarQ2q3pQ0cLuqYJEuHIns5iI-K4kthmsSWagwComS8Un_UPa-dVeiLCZG6kiiZTMUb9L71nUqVgV-vM4f4UmnlXz_OhUom9Ydd4cipVaJNUQS44Pnu7QSL4WZScBMwuCf63_5VeKBQdHn6DkEKlUGw=w360-h640" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A 2 on hole 9.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Review:<br />Erin Hills is a behemoth. Big, intimidating, blind, and challenging. There’s nowhere to hide your weaknesses. Seeing it on tv doesn’t prepare you for the tee shot angles nor the uphill approach shots. I felt helpless and overmatched. Granted, it was pouring rain, and I was the only one on course, but the enormity of the track and the difficulty of the conditions made me feel minuscule. However, it seemed ‘fair’ in its challenge, pars were hard but bogeys easy. One miss, out of position, bogey, but not double.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRDr4ZnqKn7pSfBunSRixEadU0PbI4ZseHzD_gL8cM8VPMn505qagJoRuIJQHgcSAiuk1nuLqIP1IlV-ksGIGYAC0SjwTmNH834lEbBI_0jDEyHrob0ppImDUHeqQF9VhBrpbuCwjoTw11wbwdCuSJe8_IHkjU9U6ZLULUi6Br5HSSILeXKalQ6wSytA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3862" data-original-width="16382" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRDr4ZnqKn7pSfBunSRixEadU0PbI4ZseHzD_gL8cM8VPMn505qagJoRuIJQHgcSAiuk1nuLqIP1IlV-ksGIGYAC0SjwTmNH834lEbBI_0jDEyHrob0ppImDUHeqQF9VhBrpbuCwjoTw11wbwdCuSJe8_IHkjU9U6ZLULUi6Br5HSSILeXKalQ6wSytA=w640-h150" width="640" /></a></div><br />Warmed by the fire, I find another tee time nearby, as the rain hints of retreat.<br /><b>The Club at Lac La Belle</b>. <u>Unranked</u>, but after recent renovation it may garner more attention soon.<br />2:50pm tee time. Soggy, breezy, but the forecast is stable. Only 2 other players on course, I start hot, falter, then stabilize. The rain returns at 9, lasts an hour, then abates for good. Nearing the 18th, I realized I haven’t missed a fairway since hole 3, nor missed a green since 7. A few good swings, a cozy lag, and a tap-in for 69. Pace of play 2:54.<p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikzr0Gd0s3-UCUiKVwtPuCXO84MULM2_mZ1gHRLnA60-YSlT5e1_IrESOBuOKCAbS2oCSASyIkSxSCr22wgUJW7n-hve7Gx4qtKUafPLDc-y3vf-S4w1aesP4vTKVLsBSL1u9cB4S-dJdRhQq6kj5zDppuwjdJqu4b67rDDrwAu6sw1lam-imMsx-NWQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2245" data-original-width="2245" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikzr0Gd0s3-UCUiKVwtPuCXO84MULM2_mZ1gHRLnA60-YSlT5e1_IrESOBuOKCAbS2oCSASyIkSxSCr22wgUJW7n-hve7Gx4qtKUafPLDc-y3vf-S4w1aesP4vTKVLsBSL1u9cB4S-dJdRhQq6kj5zDppuwjdJqu4b67rDDrwAu6sw1lam-imMsx-NWQ=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><br />Review:<br />Lac La Belle feels familiar and welcoming. A great variety of tee shots, some to lay back, some to launch, try a draw, play this fade, and a delightful walk through a beautiful routing, with incredible options to find 4- and 5-hole mini loops from the clubhouse. The green variety also excels with swales, mounds, and ramps, but also some approachable level surfaces too. The 4th green stands out, as does the 16th tee and the approach on 18. While still a robust green fee, it’s a wonderful value compared to the Wisconsin heavyweights.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgS-pShG6mUDWJiH5T5flme4tORgULNT2HY8qRsB4S-k6DIVHipbK6PR23o3uhOkQ0zHZ2QkZs5j6sE800SLmFUJcDVDGzRGcxRMzmYXDhpCMKGKacHB0Jt8g1VlujWnxZwtGKQosBZBa5wMKA_aAVxoVPBBKNldO1ZP1upDNariNo-xm8KOWNGCknjQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgS-pShG6mUDWJiH5T5flme4tORgULNT2HY8qRsB4S-k6DIVHipbK6PR23o3uhOkQ0zHZ2QkZs5j6sE800SLmFUJcDVDGzRGcxRMzmYXDhpCMKGKacHB0Jt8g1VlujWnxZwtGKQosBZBa5wMKA_aAVxoVPBBKNldO1ZP1upDNariNo-xm8KOWNGCknjQ=w360-h640" width="360" /></a></div><br />Thursday June 9.<br />Hard to believe my luck, but spots open in Sand Valley and I rush west to have a go.<br /><b>Mammoth Dunes</b>. <u>Ranked #29</u>.<br />8:15am tee time. Sunny, calm, picture perfect. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiccPndz-KG8HKYjUq_z4objggkLG711ZlzmHvVZ3JEyhbyoM7-zFrETJzQtkzXS-PD4QO_YKSkJoUjTcQza0n7Yoxq_ZVvjGisa2kjScE1o88hwLObVSaApv6zVlYIqIh5_-mKSHvU-_qdqhpsB7KyiRsO-1pdoqeL2s_rDuD-BvnRJnyqYY9kNvYnaA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3259" data-original-width="8153" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiccPndz-KG8HKYjUq_z4objggkLG711ZlzmHvVZ3JEyhbyoM7-zFrETJzQtkzXS-PD4QO_YKSkJoUjTcQza0n7Yoxq_ZVvjGisa2kjScE1o88hwLObVSaApv6zVlYIqIh5_-mKSHvU-_qdqhpsB7KyiRsO-1pdoqeL2s_rDuD-BvnRJnyqYY9kNvYnaA=w640-h256" width="640" /></a></div><br />A looper points me in the right direction, as the angles for tee and green are not intuitive. A few drives veer toward certain death, only to find the fairway. Forgiving and immense, I miss in the correct spots, carding four birdies through 10. The scale finally gets me, as I shortside the back-9 par-5s, taking a few disheartening 6’s. Another stumble to the finish for a 73. Pace 4:25.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI1-dCo2i_mygYA6HKumV8zzrYEhX4gBfQfGu3SW597CWDHieQoA-7xR5CO4rGaws32_PgnyMby2jdlCzfgCO0Pbw9H9cLjjb3Xx3xEMe3GG14U7Uus5Cu7epbELaCmNBZt3mQ2eFynTaQzn8JD8Uu4rfxsXdIYr9vXDFH3n1Nery0wyMzMDpkAeKRDg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2810" data-original-width="10582" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI1-dCo2i_mygYA6HKumV8zzrYEhX4gBfQfGu3SW597CWDHieQoA-7xR5CO4rGaws32_PgnyMby2jdlCzfgCO0Pbw9H9cLjjb3Xx3xEMe3GG14U7Uus5Cu7epbELaCmNBZt3mQ2eFynTaQzn8JD8Uu4rfxsXdIYr9vXDFH3n1Nery0wyMzMDpkAeKRDg=w640-h170" width="640" /></a></div><br /><b>Sand Valley</b>. <u>Ranked #18</u>.<br />2:40pm tee time. Sunny, gorgeous, with a freshening breeze. My caddie picks my lines and a center cut 12/14 fairways and find 14 greens too. I can’t hit it better, but Sand Valley is less forgiving than Mammoth Dunes. The few times I lose position, it costs me a stroke. Again under par on the back, I drop a couple and finish with a nauseating 6 on the last, for 74. Pace 4:22.<p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi22adB9GvDJ5N1jrLhT-NlnHcZFEb2JPWxo_cJgExKV5ju2FScXcI5JsXgPwu2E9uxN5fTlZXQRWkvHouQEEE_tbK5n0h9LTrs3j7MuTjDgBunx1YQ9CRfZMOZv-lzr0hOofAYji3W-0Zn9VTjcxeBb7Ma_SyEzbzq9OQOfnPPYorukH16NndPE6eVHA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi22adB9GvDJ5N1jrLhT-NlnHcZFEb2JPWxo_cJgExKV5ju2FScXcI5JsXgPwu2E9uxN5fTlZXQRWkvHouQEEE_tbK5n0h9LTrs3j7MuTjDgBunx1YQ9CRfZMOZv-lzr0hOofAYji3W-0Zn9VTjcxeBb7Ma_SyEzbzq9OQOfnPPYorukH16NndPE6eVHA=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />Review: <br />Sand Valley resort has a vibe that stands apart. If you’ve been to Bandon, it’s the same. There’s a distinctive energy on property, everybody is there for the best day ever. A fraternity of golfers drawn to the same purpose. We’re not hunting history, replicating heroic shots, playing the tips to get our teeth kicked in. We’re there to play Dream Golf, and it’s so damn fun. <p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqYN6S2lidXz1WX1kytj4iNE_f1IAHi7_izYaLj9c9prmPO7OMvoqKCKWHp-9o14eZanuLTOLN6hspZY9CDQXGmPq0Q1LBHQ0_QGG5KCIarEOOVvStguBtMMJJv0Mw8QgzklyJ3_8GDhoIf6G7KzIVqG7akX7nyzTjC65Zq6BMY5Q_xdJR3XJtMCTbDg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqYN6S2lidXz1WX1kytj4iNE_f1IAHi7_izYaLj9c9prmPO7OMvoqKCKWHp-9o14eZanuLTOLN6hspZY9CDQXGmPq0Q1LBHQ0_QGG5KCIarEOOVvStguBtMMJJv0Mw8QgzklyJ3_8GDhoIf6G7KzIVqG7akX7nyzTjC65Zq6BMY5Q_xdJR3XJtMCTbDg=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't forget the ice cream sandwich at Sand Valley. Another insider tip: get the tacos.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Mammoth is all you’ve read about, huge fairways, enormous greens, incredible views and exhilarating shots. Forgiving, yet challenging, misses stay in play but it’s hard to get it close. Sand Valley has sharper teeth, but the fairways are generous and the greens playable. Definitely a few strokes harder, requiring more thought from tee to green, but it’s not designed to beat you up. Adjusting to bouncy fairways and sandy greens takes time, but judging the roll-out is spectacularly integral to the Dream Golf style of play.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiUJoXqq6x5VrAL_TUaWCDS7-PLf2YXjt9d3KnfK_n2zoLpHHbJmx8k7WH3ZZpLdqpkkD3GUATa07UWc3ZAAEyQH63IQNRdiyz36eBRvvLW8v581tkgrBg4A_MeHU1X3aP4klctMOpOzlOtuAgRK_ZsZS9BgbtX7rHlw4zRsrqpW5ZnM2lj4930_uX6g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2916" data-original-width="6580" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiUJoXqq6x5VrAL_TUaWCDS7-PLf2YXjt9d3KnfK_n2zoLpHHbJmx8k7WH3ZZpLdqpkkD3GUATa07UWc3ZAAEyQH63IQNRdiyz36eBRvvLW8v581tkgrBg4A_MeHU1X3aP4klctMOpOzlOtuAgRK_ZsZS9BgbtX7rHlw4zRsrqpW5ZnM2lj4930_uX6g=w640-h284" width="640" /></a></div><br />Friday June 10.<br /><b>The Sandbox</b>, 17-hole par-3 course.<br />7:30am tee time, first out with another single. Maintenance sweeps the dew just ahead of us, on a light and dainty morning. Most players use the Sandbox at the end of the day, for beers with buddies. I love a par-3 warm-up instead. Playing casually fast, I throw darts and make putts, six 2’s in one loop. We finish in 1:30.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhta4LDVd_YIh6QGHs8ErOc7gDgGXLgy2fLzFz-sQDeGDrLZzX3maSsjIwWWQmgSa53TxgTtJ-yFErGbm05viIE19gDbWPYauutVF6yNnqY_aiCF7EorYpikSCNA6Tr9ApRDNTDuFr-xeYmzvveM4aWy-9KgxdQyvzQa3ngcpXSwr1qBC1FtZoFeHwA1w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3407" data-original-width="1916" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhta4LDVd_YIh6QGHs8ErOc7gDgGXLgy2fLzFz-sQDeGDrLZzX3maSsjIwWWQmgSa53TxgTtJ-yFErGbm05viIE19gDbWPYauutVF6yNnqY_aiCF7EorYpikSCNA6Tr9ApRDNTDuFr-xeYmzvveM4aWy-9KgxdQyvzQa3ngcpXSwr1qBC1FtZoFeHwA1w=w360-h640" width="360" /></a></div>Review:<br />Bandon Preserve > Sand Valley Sandbox > Baths at Kohler > Hay at Pebble Beach.<br />Come @ me bro. <br /><br />Three hour drive west.<br /><b>Troy Burne Golf Club</b>. <u>Unranked</u> and underrated.<br />2:20pm tee time. Sunny, warm, and Minnesota humid. Somehow every hole feels downhill, and the humid air carries the ball a club longer than expected. For a few holes, I hit pin-seeking missiles that fly the green, find water and bunkers. I adjust for the second 9, pair up with some locals, make a few birdies and finish with another 74. Pace 3:54.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHrBaDCR1bukOidl_zm8UYd0_KH7fLp97Q9vywicmKNZqKkzSrLF4ovs0Xsulm24wEn11jGPvmwGXqEzosnAY9q7_BaZlYARd-Bg22oqVWdvQsQYYPPAS7jOe0YcAELCp2tsgIgaEdkcEMkjVKA4vxQscp4221PH5cuj226fh3pPuGJxZeaRRY7BYOxA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3914" data-original-width="11244" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHrBaDCR1bukOidl_zm8UYd0_KH7fLp97Q9vywicmKNZqKkzSrLF4ovs0Xsulm24wEn11jGPvmwGXqEzosnAY9q7_BaZlYARd-Bg22oqVWdvQsQYYPPAS7jOe0YcAELCp2tsgIgaEdkcEMkjVKA4vxQscp4221PH5cuj226fh3pPuGJxZeaRRY7BYOxA=w640-h222" width="640" /></a></div>Review:<br />Troy Burne is a banger. I’ve lost track of the value/$ after all this golf, but this is a course I’d play everyday. It’s a delightful mix of up and down, left and right, bomb or lay-up, be safe or play aggressive. Incredibly it seems there’s 14 downhill holes and only a few uphill, but it may be an illusion in my memory. I love playing this semi-private track, pairing up w 4 members for a back-9 5-ball. I played through, then it slowed down, so they waited on me, I offered a round of beers and they bought mine instead! Did we just become best friends? Minnesota Nice (and WI too) is a real thing, dontcha know. <p><br /></p>Saturday June 11.<br />A family day.<br /><br />Sunday June 12.<br /><b>White Bear Yacht Club</b>. Private.<br />10am. Partly cloudy, serene, sublime. Score hardly matters at this blissful venue. I stripe some drives, scare some pins, give myself a few putts and quietly post a 71. Pace 3:32.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh0-rXfciXSfzCrzv9jYzlVp_AaT19wi_Czpum4vSF-nMoczNhn3ZDlWibSGQhDQAwEvikNpp9XOSBW6slrrZP4xhDCa0CWPwsgAEbrgGmVr_1T3nUoS-pyZQ9AqFiFCjN5CAaUvIqYdmM114WVvjDBd-PqP0A873ELnZccsaNXhu_PEmOA0O_d8nqPHA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh0-rXfciXSfzCrzv9jYzlVp_AaT19wi_Czpum4vSF-nMoczNhn3ZDlWibSGQhDQAwEvikNpp9XOSBW6slrrZP4xhDCa0CWPwsgAEbrgGmVr_1T3nUoS-pyZQ9AqFiFCjN5CAaUvIqYdmM114WVvjDBd-PqP0A873ELnZccsaNXhu_PEmOA0O_d8nqPHA=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><br />Review:<br />White Bear Yacht Club sets a different tone. No tee times, just show up. Let that sink in. It’s Sunday morning and we stroll to the tee at our leisure, unannounced. A juxtaposition of casual yet clean, old yet vibrant, difficult yet inviting, exclusive yet welcoming. The rolling hills make for beautiful lines, uneven lies and amazing depth. Subtle doglegs and corner-cutting tee shots, blind fairways and hidden greens, each hole is a friend you’ve missed for ages. Almost unrecognizable at first, yet immediately familiar, a layer of mystery gently dissolves. Usually I only crave to replay a hole after making a mess, but WBYC has holes I need to replay because I played them perfectly and still wish I did more. Cresting a blind, to discover a new strategy, I can’t help but look back and want another try. <p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDbcRmwKVO_v-2TQZPTG7xcqeLme_SaU4nQM6WRBAmk2KOjEY9UsjqefUSIxWjjb_hMqU-aVaFtkKBJ4c_wD0LJD1xQFOekgbLnBa0Ew6Q81rSN_XeZ8R_IF15YY0eg1d9ATkOculWeAmLFr13iNR90BBGjuX5_FkH6_wxTfJ3DJ3kg-skztFe954sQA" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="3076" data-original-width="9557" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDbcRmwKVO_v-2TQZPTG7xcqeLme_SaU4nQM6WRBAmk2KOjEY9UsjqefUSIxWjjb_hMqU-aVaFtkKBJ4c_wD0LJD1xQFOekgbLnBa0Ew6Q81rSN_XeZ8R_IF15YY0eg1d9ATkOculWeAmLFr13iNR90BBGjuX5_FkH6_wxTfJ3DJ3kg-skztFe954sQA=w640-h206" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 9th at White Bear<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>Overview:<br />Reflecting from home, it’s natural to question which course is my favorite. I dare not rank them in rigid order the way Golf Digest does. More experiential in evaluation, I judge the courses on enjoyment, pace, and flavor, along with routing, beauty, and architecture. <br /><br />Whistling Straits and Erin Hills are true bucket list once-a-lifetime tracks for me, amazing to be sure, but I feel no need to return. 5hr+ rounds are distasteful. The Irish and River courses are wonderful, but similarly not worth another trip. Of those 4, the Irish course would be my replay, as it’s the walk I most enjoyed. If Lac La Belle or Troy Burne were my local tracks, I’d play them all the time. Sand Valley and Mammoth Dunes are absolutely the ones I need to play again. I’d go there every year, and when the resort adds the new courses, I will! But if I had to pick one for the rest of my life, White Bear feels the place to be. Maybe that’s just recency bias, and the Minnesota winter certainly gives me pause, but this place is truly special.<br />You’ll find me on the patio with a Fescue Rescue (whiskey, ginger, lemon), overlooking the 9th green, dreaming of what shot to hit tomorrow.<br /><br />Totals:<br />10 rounds of 18, plus 63 par-3’s.<br />73 miles walked, in 36:30 total playing time.<br />Three 2’s on the big courses, and 12 more on the par-3’s.<br />693 miles in the rental car.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5Hm4HFjDNxS8Z2bU-WJ8ALfv2FPAxnvx9vpdJhLJWfw0X2TmzD82ULQTuPX4XvUtH_Qlvu0rBw8-9PQ0jh49fwzTbslu7Hjs9tqlQ8Zm1WrVtl8jiMW1fZz538WqRS76Kf7tnOyfZHq7m1ojh89a02CXLywzEiUkKf-pEBwPq-w9cFykX1ERRaQwGlg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="4030" data-original-width="3300" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5Hm4HFjDNxS8Z2bU-WJ8ALfv2FPAxnvx9vpdJhLJWfw0X2TmzD82ULQTuPX4XvUtH_Qlvu0rBw8-9PQ0jh49fwzTbslu7Hjs9tqlQ8Zm1WrVtl8jiMW1fZz538WqRS76Kf7tnOyfZHq7m1ojh89a02CXLywzEiUkKf-pEBwPq-w9cFykX1ERRaQwGlg=w525-h640" width="525" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy Dylan Bloch<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /> <p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-38813319187956547652021-10-11T13:57:00.013-07:002021-10-12T10:27:36.227-07:00Oct 2021: Stupid Pony<p><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">SO THERE I WAS, packing my car for another epic adventure. My phone seldom rings with good news. Sure enough, “Did you see the latest email?” An email could only be worse news: </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: underline;">Stupid Pony 2021 CANCELED.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">A year of planning, training, scouting, suddenly for nothing. I had worried the weather was potentially disruptive, but finality is demoralizing.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">After two years of knee pain and empty results, I was finally healthy, strong, and ready to attempt another monster: 200 miles of gravel, traversing the West Desert of Utah, following the historic Pony Express route from Lehi to Wendover, across some of the most barren, desolate, and inhospitable terrain in the lower 48. No water, food, nor shelter. Just rocks, sand, salt, and wind, with three aid stations to add probability to the impossibility of surviving the journey in one grueling day.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">A sulky hour later, I phoned Brandon to discuss our options: 1, do the ride anyway, unsupported; 2, head to Wendover (NV/UT) and ride a shorter substitute event; 3, stay home. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Analysis: 1, impossible and potentially fatal; 2, disappointing, but better than nothing; 3, nothing, worse than nothing.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYJIU7vppsJoABRRM02WQv3N5jCpE_mhkRQYqS_nG2_NjKPM8Q1QmBScB0iVwVH0fHXz90VEo2rLKhXWz2PRmPdIxD_3hcmfDacoh_1iwdmDh1n1NuT2mBpIJwKx7z0adokZJ7aSwQxVP/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="2000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYJIU7vppsJoABRRM02WQv3N5jCpE_mhkRQYqS_nG2_NjKPM8Q1QmBScB0iVwVH0fHXz90VEo2rLKhXWz2PRmPdIxD_3hcmfDacoh_1iwdmDh1n1NuT2mBpIJwKx7z0adokZJ7aSwQxVP/w640-h427/Koons_Niner.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stupid steed: Niner RLT Steel, 45c tires, 5 water bottles, 21kg loaded</td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Day 1.</span></b></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Start in the dark, 4 hours to Winnemucca, NV.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">From Pioneer Park, head west on singletrack dirt trails to the summit of Winnemucca Mountain (elev 6700’). The GPS shows a 5% climb, but I’ve been fooled before. The first few miles are flatter, so the 12% summit ramp is only mildly surprising.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8YNiGiwQQhMN8d35TjDjnreOR92zM20SGbULbc6rVQ-5e3FfBBGUrsaMcMCXqpXU8MTK8DfwGEeortW4eaf6BE1TOzgZMfvnxPFbOOiKtAhBUxIMISF3WkytP01qpw2NphUqn10yUOTM/s2048/IMG_E1439.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8YNiGiwQQhMN8d35TjDjnreOR92zM20SGbULbc6rVQ-5e3FfBBGUrsaMcMCXqpXU8MTK8DfwGEeortW4eaf6BE1TOzgZMfvnxPFbOOiKtAhBUxIMISF3WkytP01qpw2NphUqn10yUOTM/w640-h360/IMG_E1439.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BZ traversing Winnemucca Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbnp4DBisc_AAym-yOizj9KoYj46IM6TqWr7LgQNabZ5QSLPrXo-nqMXUNmfPjg_NpVvgqPb1M_zSW7vYu38dDYeB4U0QhJ2hS5PMXbmorZrhIytTp-oTb8fP-1bYIgOdRxey6U2Gc1Ym/s2048/IMG_E1444.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbnp4DBisc_AAym-yOizj9KoYj46IM6TqWr7LgQNabZ5QSLPrXo-nqMXUNmfPjg_NpVvgqPb1M_zSW7vYu38dDYeB4U0QhJ2hS5PMXbmorZrhIytTp-oTb8fP-1bYIgOdRxey6U2Gc1Ym/w360-h640/IMG_E1444.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Niner RLT Steel, hero shot</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Small dead bushes litter the narrow trail like miniature tumbleweeds. Perfectly sized for maximum annoyance, these Spoke Weeds catch our wheels, jam our brakes, and tangle our chains. The dry, loose conditions, paired with the steep slopes, limit our upward momentum, but after only 90 minutes (sure felt longer!), we crest the ridge and enjoy smooth swooping pavement back to the car. Giddy smiles, all the way down.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCa-JKIRoN9yH3o0CtHctA_41Otbkn287z48bXXgj3WKRdxjzu35obFLm5mG_C-p_l41riorsDbS7MYRBN9REhnRoabsDTPTGnA-AIzJEu6ibfKwUmhVVC8Lud87ZO6OTIJrQcWmp7tdNh/s2048/IMG_E1452.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCa-JKIRoN9yH3o0CtHctA_41Otbkn287z48bXXgj3WKRdxjzu35obFLm5mG_C-p_l41riorsDbS7MYRBN9REhnRoabsDTPTGnA-AIzJEu6ibfKwUmhVVC8Lud87ZO6OTIJrQcWmp7tdNh/w640-h360/IMG_E1452.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BZ nearing the summit ramp</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBRsoV1VVyZ8KRijvzKJLYvNhzy-2lfeLUnOx6b61jQnCLyBn2PsNxUXhqrlKcZvyAxfWUktcTm5ZY66wsMS1pvAsbgAcwwu94wJJO2sUTZsSxH8gEJcYmfiX3FQKv5hmvu9xRsgWc2wR/s2048/IMG_E1456.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBRsoV1VVyZ8KRijvzKJLYvNhzy-2lfeLUnOx6b61jQnCLyBn2PsNxUXhqrlKcZvyAxfWUktcTm5ZY66wsMS1pvAsbgAcwwu94wJJO2sUTZsSxH8gEJcYmfiX3FQKv5hmvu9xRsgWc2wR/w360-h640/IMG_E1456.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spoke weeds and loose rocks force BZ to walk</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNn_LU6xLFT9QlHXJe8uFPrshLkBnO5TMoLeBAu4Uetz7cbtHbBIXoUKU396IyYRCOQJVHGBFu7iiOi-_3pFlJDtM-cDtS4SP-K3UT22VWmZCjLM3vYr31GVaJqeExD8XaJOuFunwZI1F/s2048/IMG_E1463.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNn_LU6xLFT9QlHXJe8uFPrshLkBnO5TMoLeBAu4Uetz7cbtHbBIXoUKU396IyYRCOQJVHGBFu7iiOi-_3pFlJDtM-cDtS4SP-K3UT22VWmZCjLM3vYr31GVaJqeExD8XaJOuFunwZI1F/w640-h360/IMG_E1463.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glorious paved descent of Winnemucca Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table></div><p style="text-align: left;">Lunch: Chihuahua’s Grill and Cantina, Winnemucca, as the weather forecast freshens. <span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Sizzling fajitas and a burrito big as a bread loaf. Admitting the hungry-cyclist-factor adds one star, I give them 4/5.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Another 2 hours to Elko. Buying beers, hoping for a sunset cruise, the breeze stiffens and purple clouds loom. I suggest we put on coats and go for it, while Brandon tempers my optimism and suggests waiting 30’. A compromise: hotel check in, then try it.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Good choice. Wind slams. Rain pours. Hail stings. Lighting shatters. In minutes, everything is soaked. Typical of many mountain storms, 30’ later the rain is gone and the clouds hint of retreat.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkjKwtLKV-iKkouz7fs7pg__ZyJ1xQdXWAWmEfc35TRikGZjZwMauABI1UD79TVkqjtjz5GVqIahWE0qrhM2m7rlSHcs9NAgN2n7446apyAxTRF8svkJXSkvy6IeZewlpFxzRX36XYd_k/s1353/IMG_E1469.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1353" data-original-width="828" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkjKwtLKV-iKkouz7fs7pg__ZyJ1xQdXWAWmEfc35TRikGZjZwMauABI1UD79TVkqjtjz5GVqIahWE0qrhM2m7rlSHcs9NAgN2n7446apyAxTRF8svkJXSkvy6IeZewlpFxzRX36XYd_k/w245-h400/IMG_E1469.jpg" width="245" /></a></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Riding from town, head north on gravel towards the Elko Snowbowl, but veer right when you see a 4-prong relay tower on the highest point (6675’). Another 5% climb says the GPS, but if you believe that, you’re a fool like me. Flat through town, gentle dirt ascent, then a heinous loose switchback segment to the top, just in time for sunset. We halve our beers, then skitter down the blocky chunky descent as darkness falls.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKcM6jp3rG5TojVNeIuEASSpiP7y6RJNyJmYQqwZrsJnxTwATkljW7cOnbqdDihT_SuQRnvLzmIm3NyqlvD2UWy3LxxYP0AIsi1fo563wPMXu8s3TeC2U3chF-BtZQ3YWdoaW4FXZC2bo/s2048/IMG_E1486.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKcM6jp3rG5TojVNeIuEASSpiP7y6RJNyJmYQqwZrsJnxTwATkljW7cOnbqdDihT_SuQRnvLzmIm3NyqlvD2UWy3LxxYP0AIsi1fo563wPMXu8s3TeC2U3chF-BtZQ3YWdoaW4FXZC2bo/w640-h360/IMG_E1486.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gravel from Elko </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOafei734ud5IUs8UjL5bYr4vvAED_0hPpUBKhzAUtrbQxfRjQXFEXqttZ6kOpRPlP98cwrG0VvRx98QpxOOQ_84zs6l1LF5DlkUP8oUlYzWvlslMC4it6V98J1EVfQX8_9bPd7d2zr7W/s2048/IMG_E1490.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOafei734ud5IUs8UjL5bYr4vvAED_0hPpUBKhzAUtrbQxfRjQXFEXqttZ6kOpRPlP98cwrG0VvRx98QpxOOQ_84zs6l1LF5DlkUP8oUlYzWvlslMC4it6V98J1EVfQX8_9bPd7d2zr7W/w640-h360/IMG_E1490.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BZ climbs the ramp to the towers</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLwQL1Ir7FHWieiLZr1crikQPXI5Cr76ExlLyqt9VvKvMXU0i1fM47ZfTdanYOFG29aYqI6jJbQAHrnU9yV9oj3OzyKQ5G2NAf3VK0zvv0Fa-5zR5vQ7pRIIlQYnJmMTOAd-GK88-hgdZ/s3325/IMG_E1495.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="946" data-original-width="3325" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLwQL1Ir7FHWieiLZr1crikQPXI5Cr76ExlLyqt9VvKvMXU0i1fM47ZfTdanYOFG29aYqI6jJbQAHrnU9yV9oj3OzyKQ5G2NAf3VK0zvv0Fa-5zR5vQ7pRIIlQYnJmMTOAd-GK88-hgdZ/w640-h182/IMG_E1495.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset view from the Elko Tower</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraPuHTS4bweRWYIejFGWM7WAWNF17-VSK9UOreACGqGwppp0bEQK70E5fPSVd-BbHPFchtdsu4B985tX5DzfQnVs4Poc4NdwWWAolMFXcrBuWiq6tHMqOWktAr5XxjwR4MlfzrE_J5w4K/s2048/IMG_E1504.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1154" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraPuHTS4bweRWYIejFGWM7WAWNF17-VSK9UOreACGqGwppp0bEQK70E5fPSVd-BbHPFchtdsu4B985tX5DzfQnVs4Poc4NdwWWAolMFXcrBuWiq6tHMqOWktAr5XxjwR4MlfzrE_J5w4K/w640-h360/IMG_E1504.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Depart before dark</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Dinner: Matties Taphouse and Grill, Elko, with an appetite.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Deep. Fried. Pickles. Say no more! “Would you like fry-sauce with that?” Ok, say that again. “Fry-sauce, it’s ketchup mixed with mayonnaise.” A Utah classic, I haven’t thought of it in 10 years, and didn’t know it has infiltrated neighboring states. Like hungry Utah ski bums, <i>Send It!</i> ‘Cado Bacon Burger and Turkey Melt Supreme. Wow, Mattie fuckin’ nailed it. 5/5, would eat again.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Also, our first hint that perhaps NV is also stealing from TX. We all know <i>Everything is Bigger</i>, but any beer ordered in NV comes in ‘Small, Large, or pitcher’. A Small is still 16oz, and the adjacent Large glassware scares me. I’ll have a gin and tonic, please. “A Double?” Damn Nevada, you thirsty!</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">To bed with full bellies, the morning forecast is bleak. Flood watch, winter weather advisory, 50mph winds, it looks like an inevitable Zero-day on this road trip.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Shilo Inn. Soft bed, smooth pillows, clean towels, and an effective thermostat. Would recommend.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Day 2.</span></b></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Awake in the dark, puddles on the pavement, loading the car and hoping the meteorologist is wrong. Astrology is bullshit. Anyway…</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Breakfast: Dreez, Elko, awkward to say, easy to enjoy. From the menu, ‘Le Waf, an Artisan Waffle, with an unbelievable flavor, secretly made with European pearl sugar folded into the dough.’ Make it two, with eggs, bacon and an orange juice. “Would you like a short or a tall?” Not today, Nevada! I’ll take a short, and am hardly surprised when a full pint mason jar arrives brimming, fresh squeezed. Not quite as hungry, after two bomber meals, but this breakfast is still the best in town, 4.5/5.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Thirty minutes to Lamoille. After ‘<i>Le Waf</i>’, pronounced in an elegant french way, we anticipate this little town should have a delicate name, but sadly the locals call it <i>LamOIL,</i> which makes sense in a state famous for drilling, mining, digging, scraping. Too bad though, the views from LaMOIL! (<i>I think it’s most effective if you shout the name</i>) are straight from a European hamlet. The Ruby Mountains, the ‘Swiss Alps of Nevada’, are out the back door. With such high acclaim in a middle-of-nowhere range, it’s fair to be skeptical, but you’d be remiss to bypass the Lamoille Canyon Scenic Byway. I’ve not been to Europe, so I can’t validate the comparison, but the Ruby Mountains easily compare to anything I’ve seen in Utah, Colorado, Montana, Oregon, California, or Canada.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Catching a break in the weather, powdered sugar on the peaks, the scent of sage in the air, the road gleaming from downpour, droplets dripping from trees, wind rustling the yellow aspen leaves, water cascading down the canyon, stopped only by small beaver dams.. I could go on, but there must be some idiom about using pictures instead of words.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG1VXzIw41mAiZdjd1oEUj4YDKpWj2sUTkVUGoLWmp8vjfOzMib6CBFUzhdvYvaz7riB-GpWTIuVm2v5wwhAucyr9IBqS8PqlbKt9oc3H0JEJKyhb3vBs1zduvR_pu7DTEq26074g1bGmc/s2048/IMG_E1513.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG1VXzIw41mAiZdjd1oEUj4YDKpWj2sUTkVUGoLWmp8vjfOzMib6CBFUzhdvYvaz7riB-GpWTIuVm2v5wwhAucyr9IBqS8PqlbKt9oc3H0JEJKyhb3vBs1zduvR_pu7DTEq26074g1bGmc/w640-h360/IMG_E1513.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering Lamoille Canyon, into the Ruby Mountains<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbuH-n2GRh1MFoN8caUqfwiOlSAG91Yo0KXMQt8Bs9sbxQzRHwSZHLspqCLKraX1jEtdYxwaxmkr-xyLL6eomQoPsgPLwvCLInph5CTqBpGOjmzTDaxocT9U3hmB3dD2sOiuxqU38HUoqh/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbuH-n2GRh1MFoN8caUqfwiOlSAG91Yo0KXMQt8Bs9sbxQzRHwSZHLspqCLKraX1jEtdYxwaxmkr-xyLL6eomQoPsgPLwvCLInph5CTqBpGOjmzTDaxocT9U3hmB3dD2sOiuxqU38HUoqh/w360-h640/IMG_E1524.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BZ on approach</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9XFrsQiBzWb0hOeXNjhg54Lj0KZekPMFCCjeFV11iTolE5Aqe4CZgL8r6H0PQZ10YTnrR-d0ReQYU2ECKAHlqipuX2gYiF7TZ-ffVOI3n9ikR2XRclKChTsxkKcRUpRSuQl2pUuLhx1S/s2048/IMG_E1519.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9XFrsQiBzWb0hOeXNjhg54Lj0KZekPMFCCjeFV11iTolE5Aqe4CZgL8r6H0PQZ10YTnrR-d0ReQYU2ECKAHlqipuX2gYiF7TZ-ffVOI3n9ikR2XRclKChTsxkKcRUpRSuQl2pUuLhx1S/w640-h360/IMG_E1519.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No caption needed</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Wind and a threat of rain force a quick snack at 8800’, while we marvel the 11,000' peaks. Hail stings our faces at 30mph as we descend, laughing the whole way, and shivering too.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yJ1aTSCujxjlb8ZtYBBqFRO08nZspbqAVyG3rL6p_0-0kYX8mB5E_hMVegwM_FHS_8toQjiw16jz2Ti3QN7B7Y0epbci1aQLhH90IeiCHmuRjlWrqHYlvGChBPDKYpHoP6XGT8Se7s4Y/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1920" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yJ1aTSCujxjlb8ZtYBBqFRO08nZspbqAVyG3rL6p_0-0kYX8mB5E_hMVegwM_FHS_8toQjiw16jz2Ti3QN7B7Y0epbci1aQLhH90IeiCHmuRjlWrqHYlvGChBPDKYpHoP6XGT8Se7s4Y/w400-h300/IMG_1532.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JK pausing to warm fingers</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Lunch: Bella’s Restaurant & Espresso, Wells, as the clouds poured from the peaks and walloped the windows with hail and lightning. On the door, ‘Local mandates require you to wear a mask, but we won’t infringe on your Constitutional rights, so please don’t tread on ours.’ Our server has a gun on his hip.<br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">‘Bella’s Famous Chicken Ceasar Salad’ deserves its title. Being warm, dry, and hungry adds to the score, but the chicken is excellent and the little diced toast bits are incomparably better than stale croutons. 5/5, best truck-stop-town salad you’ll ever have.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Time for one more ride, we depart for the northern tip of the Rubies during a gap in the weather. The road to Angel Lake (8400’) is a delight, but our tired legs urge us to stay in the car, and the purple clouds are indisputable. At the top, we watch clouds spill over the peak, and sporadic precipitation pelts us as we admire the lake. Is it snow? Rain? Hail? “Oh, shit. Look!” A wave of hail floods the basin, and we run for the car as the leading edge hits.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNnDKUlpUXslCDTDdIv8ShnnnFsGyyyI3lfvW-pv6RNw3dVVB_aZJdKYVSQMXcpx-Ij9f0YhUT4OiS0sg039FvZ9L01y6hyphenhyphennXD8rGktgHxJE3LFJLSMDPrjfE6V8WRfSNiMiPmx6nckty/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1920" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNnDKUlpUXslCDTDdIv8ShnnnFsGyyyI3lfvW-pv6RNw3dVVB_aZJdKYVSQMXcpx-Ij9f0YhUT4OiS0sg039FvZ9L01y6hyphenhyphennXD8rGktgHxJE3LFJLSMDPrjfE6V8WRfSNiMiPmx6nckty/w640-h480/IMG_1598.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angel Lake as hail storm approaches</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Laughing with relief, glad we skipped this ride, we creep down the mountain as the road turns white.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfHErfULDkcZMIBXZn2WIuvuhk1FjZi-70D8_MqanU_vAH4Gd5gnT42ZYhgT-j8nFG29f-PH5Zaj634x56Gk7OpC3Nc7Ezjypg8_Ibj2H-lcnz7xuiBz2mdlvr8SpeQrFdcQ1Bw3A0v5O/"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfHErfULDkcZMIBXZn2WIuvuhk1FjZi-70D8_MqanU_vAH4Gd5gnT42ZYhgT-j8nFG29f-PH5Zaj634x56Gk7OpC3Nc7Ezjypg8_Ibj2H-lcnz7xuiBz2mdlvr8SpeQrFdcQ1Bw3A0v5O/w640-h360/IMG_E1545.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnJKQhBANVKgIK-pOm6iofANtSl0BDmNSSz8AamUQF1oj7PBXLzLJ4qB2sTYh1FJDo4zrQT7IDk3_jXVJtw61AG35u0avmIS8TGfJampa6f1kp7HuCPOrng_UX_WzB-kXOJ05pUwil5kb/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1151" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnJKQhBANVKgIK-pOm6iofANtSl0BDmNSSz8AamUQF1oj7PBXLzLJ4qB2sTYh1FJDo4zrQT7IDk3_jXVJtw61AG35u0avmIS8TGfJampa6f1kp7HuCPOrng_UX_WzB-kXOJ05pUwil5kb/w360-h640/IMG_E1548.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclrDnoUQ0c_XRYSuxZMWkG9pMNp3OKxbeFc0Kc9zsuZUVvfSA9CBztKqH3oTPHjwLVeZ4YYMP7uvW6NB7yFB3aIJi_AVW5RQ-zcpxOUCohckse-Mh4dZD4UNIzk5cNUBV8Gv4SjIr1ddm/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclrDnoUQ0c_XRYSuxZMWkG9pMNp3OKxbeFc0Kc9zsuZUVvfSA9CBztKqH3oTPHjwLVeZ4YYMP7uvW6NB7yFB3aIJi_AVW5RQ-zcpxOUCohckse-Mh4dZD4UNIzk5cNUBV8Gv4SjIr1ddm/w640-h360/IMG_E1556.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">An hour to Wendover, the storm finally recedes and we’re treated to a beautiful desert evening. With Stupid Pony canceled, we bump down to the 100mi Salty Lizard gravel race. It’s a disheartening shift, and when check-in tells us the 100 course has been shortened too, by rain, it’s yet another disappointment. A 60mi course, with an added loop, is nothing compared to the 200mi ultra adventure we hoped for. Demotivated. Uninspired. Let’s go find a beer. Make it a Large this time.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Dinner: Fratelli Pizza, Wendover, as the sun melts into the horizon. With no indoor dining, and rainwater on the picnic tables, we stand in the wind and drink our beers in the dark. The hawaiian and jalapeño pizza is better than the menu pictures suggest. Hot, crispy, delicious, we scarf while laughing about the miserable mud and impassable conditions the Pony course would have presented. 5/5, shoulda bought a bigger pizza, and a bigger beer.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHZMDO-RK9G5NdNEwbQ328DhpNr0XqXstJJFp8_zy9qMhKjE2DO_sOLp8M5xbD8Ob47AesSD02pDXQSWHY7wHmIUa9ua4PVx-7z8m0GE2K3yhntfNuB82cwESRKJgQi7DMrM9jcqSxYAmm/"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHZMDO-RK9G5NdNEwbQ328DhpNr0XqXstJJFp8_zy9qMhKjE2DO_sOLp8M5xbD8Ob47AesSD02pDXQSWHY7wHmIUa9ua4PVx-7z8m0GE2K3yhntfNuB82cwESRKJgQi7DMrM9jcqSxYAmm/w225-h400/IMG_E1560.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br />
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">The Nugget Hotel Casino. Hot, lumpy, scratchy, stinky, noisy. Avoid.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b>Day 3</b>.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Awake at 3am, <i>see above</i>, and ready for racing by sunrise. Load the car, dodge the raindrops, and head to the start as the wind whistles through bike spokes. Yet another <i>alternate</i> route is imposed, as the rain has fouled much of the desert.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzimouoaSwDYf8zI_Kap5ldqoCg7AOwbA1a0e-mDcqEPuoVeoL7xx27SCEQH05882M75Np-6qey9T0N3EWbWkTsBg5lwws1w0aIYQKyjOM4lXFAZk3xs5f_1KqHbK-i2KbwWFHfSL0JHtO/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzimouoaSwDYf8zI_Kap5ldqoCg7AOwbA1a0e-mDcqEPuoVeoL7xx27SCEQH05882M75Np-6qey9T0N3EWbWkTsBg5lwws1w0aIYQKyjOM4lXFAZk3xs5f_1KqHbK-i2KbwWFHfSL0JHtO/w400-h225/IMG_E1563.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BZ rolling to the start line</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">We go out hard for a mile with the racers, but then settle into our adventure pace, chatting with others, enjoying the beautiful morning. The first section is mostly double-track, off-road gravel and sand, with loose washouts and many turns. The stout winds are difficult, but the views are superb.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqBTAQf2L3mK40MJ3i4tFIxqItIvnoiQRD64nggxPfJrnWjiD4gfavKTCKjhL7WHQ28xF7eCBBtr0Y0m28kdN3Dk0IUzfmKOhbQl52Wpw7i453aJlJstdKU8jMkhStevpwrAnmkIkElXQ/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqBTAQf2L3mK40MJ3i4tFIxqItIvnoiQRD64nggxPfJrnWjiD4gfavKTCKjhL7WHQ28xF7eCBBtr0Y0m28kdN3Dk0IUzfmKOhbQl52Wpw7i453aJlJstdKU8jMkhStevpwrAnmkIkElXQ/w360-h640/IMG_E1571.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rider heads into the desert on the Salty Lizard</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">After an hour, my legs feel better than Brandon’s so I scrap our <i>just have fun</i> plan and put some power down. I give ‘er the beans for an hour, passing a dozen riders on a steep climb, chunky descent, and a long headwind straightaway.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNDU9cC33gUp69EosM8foqOXHiC6iHUiWYGN2tnEEKefb48CFijnHCnfrsskbeBpm6PvgiR2NRuMXl8tHJafTpT8DYTUAv_9pPXKvmLo9kvnDjCejof0ZGapGgNUKduWRvvJxQNz_Zl9k/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNDU9cC33gUp69EosM8foqOXHiC6iHUiWYGN2tnEEKefb48CFijnHCnfrsskbeBpm6PvgiR2NRuMXl8tHJafTpT8DYTUAv_9pPXKvmLo9kvnDjCejof0ZGapGgNUKduWRvvJxQNz_Zl9k/w640-h360/IMG_E1575.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salty Lizard rider looking east towards the Salt Flats </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSGFBhkzSDkwZWrcKqIgIwYD9KW5KrsFyoVfhrNhwQwLq6KG3Gsg4cMv7NNkR0EPbfWEqdexqU5HkeyDcN8WgGdBuRagiksIDYzE2mEo61afvVpWCW-_N1-rAbw_DfkJP9j7t5NG8NYTb/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSGFBhkzSDkwZWrcKqIgIwYD9KW5KrsFyoVfhrNhwQwLq6KG3Gsg4cMv7NNkR0EPbfWEqdexqU5HkeyDcN8WgGdBuRagiksIDYzE2mEo61afvVpWCW-_N1-rAbw_DfkJP9j7t5NG8NYTb/w640-h360/IMG_E1578.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loose rocks under the train tracks </td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Feeling stronger than expected, I hold my effort for another 2 hours to complete the 60mi course, and face the decision: another 30mi loop or exit here for a DNF and a beer. The middle section is more road than trail, but the rain has turned it to slop, slurry, sand, and rock. It’s not nearly as fun as the first half, but I came all the way out here, might as well turn it up. Up hill, that is. The little connector wasn’t on the original route, so I never scouted it, but it becomes the hardest 2 miles of the day. Wicked steep, facing a 20mph direct headwind, we all struggle up to the saddle for the second lap. With the car and (Did-Not-)Finish line so close, you need to be Salty to complete that climb. Stupid too. I’m both.<br /></span><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDWvuDFkQLuH-mYY001KNfukvoFVIcWaSJxJuU0otHtoGp8o8TxoeN944E4b4Rq478U2DmIGlQUKI0_JeZxobof9qQYaVXFU537WS_u7tpDamSWFxJMAF6eL2lfgCXbIiX2K0cujlu-NN/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDWvuDFkQLuH-mYY001KNfukvoFVIcWaSJxJuU0otHtoGp8o8TxoeN944E4b4Rq478U2DmIGlQUKI0_JeZxobof9qQYaVXFU537WS_u7tpDamSWFxJMAF6eL2lfgCXbIiX2K0cujlu-NN/w640-h360/IMG_E1582.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headwinds and straightaways in the desert</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">I see more riders on the horizon and push myself to catch them. I pass a few as I finish the second loop faster than the first, and only then realize the last kilometer to the finish line is also steep uphill on loose rocks. Too bad I emptied the tank a few minutes before the climb. I limp it up the hill to finish faster than my goal time (which I set spontaneously at the halfway point). I’m 90 minutes slower than the leaders, but I feel great about my effort and result: 6h40m going hard in the desert, that’s a solid day.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6tOYlgGRGgMrbSVmfcoW_Dl-qta6uKaCqpXBgLSt9FEkfMPMD1k7mMBBt62sLK6RjtPMa2wpBWtCAn-7t8VeVlfVs18iCbu2Jc9Ti56TryEVyqkfT8T1wV9NyR7jIoNPP4o43fEDwMgfK/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6tOYlgGRGgMrbSVmfcoW_Dl-qta6uKaCqpXBgLSt9FEkfMPMD1k7mMBBt62sLK6RjtPMa2wpBWtCAn-7t8VeVlfVs18iCbu2Jc9Ti56TryEVyqkfT8T1wV9NyR7jIoNPP4o43fEDwMgfK/w225-h400/IMG_E1588.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saturated silt resembles concrete</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes</i>, all feel surprisingly good. No major pains. Just the expected soreness, with a touch of unsettled stomach: probably too many gels, not enough calories, and dehydration.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">I change into street clothes, rehydrate and ponder what the 200 would’ve been. It’s nice to finish the 100 feeling strong, but mostly I feel disappointed to miss the chance to test myself on the real adventure. I don’t know how many chances I’ll get, so it’s frustrating to miss this fitness window.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Brandon finishes his ride too, a solid outing on a tough course. We share thoughts of <i>How’d you do</i>, <i>Did you see that guy crash, What if,</i> <i>Pony, </i>and, of course, <i>What next?</i></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i></i></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCS-i8Y5tTDMGZIxqaGjkGGMqH25dWSCFzXfk6wLHcUUqryKalxc_jt9o6zmPgUlNvtNe-uiP1ssQQDMc1qBmcwPnQRJ-9d8AEmR9g2FVUcwSsae2Amq7y5rKggzNMjm3gCEdPp_-0OZW/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="398" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCS-i8Y5tTDMGZIxqaGjkGGMqH25dWSCFzXfk6wLHcUUqryKalxc_jt9o6zmPgUlNvtNe-uiP1ssQQDMc1qBmcwPnQRJ-9d8AEmR9g2FVUcwSsae2Amq7y5rKggzNMjm3gCEdPp_-0OZW/w352-h640/QGUTE1039.jpg" width="352" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JK passes the last aid station</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">On the drive home, 8 hours to Roseville, we are entertained by small-town radio, and some road trip games we make up as we drive.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Game 1: What’s the population of this town? <i>Over/under… 2000?</i> I’ll take the over. 2300. Yes! I win.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Game 2: How high is that peak? <i>Hmm, it has snow, so it must be higher than most.. 9000+?</i> Only 8200’. Dang, you win!</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Best songs from only-station-available-country-channels, somewhat paraphrased:</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>You got feelings, there’s a beer for that.</i></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>I don’t want to think about her no more, pour me a whiskey.</i></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>Beer cans line the TransCan, every 100 miles we stop to pee, but we don’t get no DUI’s cuz..</i></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>I know what you like. Show up naked, bring beer.</i></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">I’m starting to think Nevada is an alcoholic.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Cheers!</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4kwBOrkYWmSKClbcJzsBwYoyX91-Y7bF4IDwp8pLZM72-f9-3CREPK2tlfaBS707nWSEAAfq4gTqqfOLqDzazrB_pAII3eRgadh3eCp8_3LYt4uyUxg1OCgCgq8CMiYpxfeLOwx24cwl/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4kwBOrkYWmSKClbcJzsBwYoyX91-Y7bF4IDwp8pLZM72-f9-3CREPK2tlfaBS707nWSEAAfq4gTqqfOLqDzazrB_pAII3eRgadh3eCp8_3LYt4uyUxg1OCgCgq8CMiYpxfeLOwx24cwl/w640-h360/IMG_E1591.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading home</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Salty Lizard and Stupid Pony:</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: -webkit-standard;"> </span><a href="https://saltyandstupidcycling.com" style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">https://saltyandstupidcycling.com</a><br style="font-family: -webkit-standard;" /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Winnemucca Mountain ride: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/6078932141">https://www.strava.com/activities/6078932141</a></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Elko Tower ride: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/6080035569">https://www.strava.com/activities/6080035569</a></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Lamoille Canyon ride: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/6083275744">https://www.strava.com/activities/6083275744</a></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Salty Lizard 100 ride: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/6089247245">https://www.strava.com/activities/6089247245</a></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i>The Photographer,</i> a series by Brandon:</p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYA2ry4_bVhBcD7ts3PHWrNiWr44OlxdpD7eibRx2fN79CZTh2SEPC2H6ajz5Qcwl9RP9kRwJYp20dzFMz40YQhcUyYY7F8OtascQK2WZCZOTjqTLtU5V-np4qVJL1g_T1DLEF68-Lurp/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1920" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYA2ry4_bVhBcD7ts3PHWrNiWr44OlxdpD7eibRx2fN79CZTh2SEPC2H6ajz5Qcwl9RP9kRwJYp20dzFMz40YQhcUyYY7F8OtascQK2WZCZOTjqTLtU5V-np4qVJL1g_T1DLEF68-Lurp/w400-h300/IMG_1597.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfjWYsePSxYyEfPf0VUfvN-dJni2O7oE04-LAI-VHM2Pe8lcuTQNlyc0L3Ck9v71NsLGUIsmJ83VTbf1pDP059oOCioUWSLyGaU07zhAHSrEVoNvhZaEEoqTpNKR-R3YX9F0KMASMQuYi/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfjWYsePSxYyEfPf0VUfvN-dJni2O7oE04-LAI-VHM2Pe8lcuTQNlyc0L3Ck9v71NsLGUIsmJ83VTbf1pDP059oOCioUWSLyGaU07zhAHSrEVoNvhZaEEoqTpNKR-R3YX9F0KMASMQuYi/w400-h300/IMG_1599.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4q9CcpyCyJQXUDezXjEd0DeO20tASgOrQbHu9KCEDIc7FvjAyQ48S22m2_OBA4sLYDY-xygpxxCdcmQ2zRFHdr9oPnTiW74lua02p2lWGqn824PKuDB_18loLBU5cfJWFxtddJLNP42Z/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4q9CcpyCyJQXUDezXjEd0DeO20tASgOrQbHu9KCEDIc7FvjAyQ48S22m2_OBA4sLYDY-xygpxxCdcmQ2zRFHdr9oPnTiW74lua02p2lWGqn824PKuDB_18loLBU5cfJWFxtddJLNP42Z/w400-h300/IMG_1600.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1fR-1PqImC6QS63grvpJAzZsj95R5hIzkrRJ1ncy2X2UEQznEMnsht8vfFFaS8oeQ17N5VRCTjZLY31dh5WE6KB15u6u6qnoJMcfzCrbR5yLib8CGfn_gHj1mchbMXFzqncUl5vlbhUr/"><img alt="" data-original-height="1098" data-original-width="2048" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1fR-1PqImC6QS63grvpJAzZsj95R5hIzkrRJ1ncy2X2UEQznEMnsht8vfFFaS8oeQ17N5VRCTjZLY31dh5WE6KB15u6u6qnoJMcfzCrbR5yLib8CGfn_gHj1mchbMXFzqncUl5vlbhUr/w400-h215/A20211007_182209.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div>Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-87033411290304816422018-09-26T13:53:00.000-07:002018-09-26T14:39:10.286-07:00September 2018: Death Valley - White Mountain 24hr<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Foreword</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you haven't already, please read about last year’s attempt in the previous post: <a href="http://jkoonsphoto.blogspot.com/2017/09/september-2017-badwater-white-mountain.html" target="_blank">DVWM 2017</a>. It provides greater background detail and a thorough depiction of the emotional highs and lows of attempting (and failing) something beyond my abilities. See Instagram <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jkoons10/" target="_blank">@jkoons10</a> for tidbits of recent adventures.</span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Disappointment</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Ending the 2017 attempt two miles short of the peak pained me greatly. To put in that effort, to come so close, to turn back without reaching the top… the emotions of that moment still linger. My mistakes became regrets which felt like punishments.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGjnGy8tA1tiraJMY9v3RupMwtUeAORjumb1oukPTn_RNu7vUB_05ohZGERrglJ8DIFcZxVrwGvVACaQXGq9JcCXdztecLOOLWWP1649GFTK1cXVl64BiqNuN252B8twIKyjM8ilexveW/s1600/IMG_2454-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGjnGy8tA1tiraJMY9v3RupMwtUeAORjumb1oukPTn_RNu7vUB_05ohZGERrglJ8DIFcZxVrwGvVACaQXGq9JcCXdztecLOOLWWP1649GFTK1cXVl64BiqNuN252B8twIKyjM8ilexveW/s640/IMG_2454-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gloomy last look from 2017</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Motivation</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The failure to summit only strengthened my desire to complete the route. Before even leaving the mountain, I knew I’d be back for a second attempt.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAD_CySMItCMfPd6bKMUAijgKHpuvcg6saNeKvcOJmYcirWbMnqsrGum0UZR2uThJSfOnieeUPrNx027_Wyvds_AiufgQ8BnBq5IdortkBv8A8nVJfnaHjKS2iUnrWhVXDNHsrLNJ625e/s1600/20180907_182257-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAD_CySMItCMfPd6bKMUAijgKHpuvcg6saNeKvcOJmYcirWbMnqsrGum0UZR2uThJSfOnieeUPrNx027_Wyvds_AiufgQ8BnBq5IdortkBv8A8nVJfnaHjKS2iUnrWhVXDNHsrLNJ625e/s640/20180907_182257-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Road to Badwater</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Resolve</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Circling a date on the calendar solidified the summit as a concrete goal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Planning</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By understanding the 2017 mistakes, I addressed my weaknesses. I needed to be fitter, stronger, tougher and more efficient.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Commitment</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Starting in the winter, I began a focused effort to train specifically for the challenge of DVWM. I taught myself to enjoy hill climbing repeats. One day I completed 42 laps of the same hill, accumulating 29,029’ of elevation gain. It’s called ‘Everesting’ and it only took 17 hours.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs12_iCZ-nL6NYudphiAzLocsNASTO9T2DlOgvngEZKW27Bb6Xttm9KVdWJ2P8pK8qozOZX153Z0RPu0N9Wk1lEzDkCRBeckJu_2esSqBYe1yUed5LODDt17gBEeXwA26PWOomcBIWMdkn/s1600/IMG_4180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs12_iCZ-nL6NYudphiAzLocsNASTO9T2DlOgvngEZKW27Bb6Xttm9KVdWJ2P8pK8qozOZX153Z0RPu0N9Wk1lEzDkCRBeckJu_2esSqBYe1yUed5LODDt17gBEeXwA26PWOomcBIWMdkn/s640/IMG_4180.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Enormous switchbacks</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Toughness</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When training got uncomfortable, I learned to ignore the pain and push through. Most of the time, it was merely a mental barrier to surpass. The penance taught my legs to continue as long as my mind would allow.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKlhKWUz9hRRPUc96X4tDv26IzWQJhuTQ2wmTzfHA7vzgdjzVeorKGo7aGKJRG3nfcyt7VeKYzpnYQOm0gw5TwwfslecrTv6dlP5l0vtEKnZoZqpeMFyWxj5BPjYJg_5cq2q_CsSK3mgA/s1600/XCIK2301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKlhKWUz9hRRPUc96X4tDv26IzWQJhuTQ2wmTzfHA7vzgdjzVeorKGo7aGKJRG3nfcyt7VeKYzpnYQOm0gw5TwwfslecrTv6dlP5l0vtEKnZoZqpeMFyWxj5BPjYJg_5cq2q_CsSK3mgA/s640/XCIK2301.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Big mountain climbing: Whitney, far right</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Stubbornness</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the spring I signed up for a brevet series, including rides of 200km, 300km, 400km and 600km. These semi-supported endurance events taught me how to fuel, hydrate, conserve, and pace myself over long hours on the bike. Feeling strong and confident, my mind pushed my body too far. I ignored a shooting pain and shredded the cartilage in my knee. I completed 250 miles in under 18 hours, but the success* came with an asterisk. My mental toughness was much improved, but a physical set-back brought my plan crashing down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Patience</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For 12 weeks I couldn’t ride. The self-induced injury left me in purgatory. It was hard to sit still while the calendar turned. The pain slowly faded but the uncertainty and anguish remained.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lqgMXzCznwkdP1BU8vDBNjAEi1YegtH7zMZjQucYyrSv9Tvq23vy7FWnpkCiZB5NfNwjhmdlBZZECctFw2RU2_5NYY874hc4U1jwrqt1KD0RZ_TyAllxxWKZ0C53VPnMSIxssY5mFxCx/s1600/IMG_3854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="616" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lqgMXzCznwkdP1BU8vDBNjAEi1YegtH7zMZjQucYyrSv9Tvq23vy7FWnpkCiZB5NfNwjhmdlBZZECctFw2RU2_5NYY874hc4U1jwrqt1KD0RZ_TyAllxxWKZ0C53VPnMSIxssY5mFxCx/s640/IMG_3854.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Waiting for sunrise</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Strength</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Months of physical therapy helped me develop a plan for my redemption. Stretching, exercise, and massage slowly rebuilt my knee, while some easy cycling fueled my confidence.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxWpoTm-pWzfI2uzXI-ThN55_-YzRQXpc782HUxFdiKh7EUMCDrrTVrvkHdJs4FRy8Ls4O7BJ7tnPbMtH7ImtNb6wTCuxbnKwOPwAGcXWvJqQ0zxx7nStsZJivbcRAxm_kD8DAzILpWaF/s640/IMG_4159.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="512" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long way to the top: Whitney, again</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Inspiration</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Having friends with ambitious goals made it easier to think bigger. If they could do it, I could too. Whenever I felt I’d reached my limit, I looked to others to see the infinite realm of possibility.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1DeCg95IPNoLhhLUJr8LuBv1tjz1YMBRFcXFT1PHmeSPA12jNxkuWVeobSxVu351lg7k92ZjWnf9EYfHKDCsRVjCg240fwu7TKg7U3J2hewn0bAf6mAA0uJpUz7j760CuRQ_-lHnLeG6R/s1600/IMG_3197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1DeCg95IPNoLhhLUJr8LuBv1tjz1YMBRFcXFT1PHmeSPA12jNxkuWVeobSxVu351lg7k92ZjWnf9EYfHKDCsRVjCg240fwu7TKg7U3J2hewn0bAf6mAA0uJpUz7j760CuRQ_-lHnLeG6R/s640/IMG_3197.jpg" width="512" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Follow the leader</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Obsession</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My training plan evolved to include harder workouts and longer rides, each with increased frequency. The gym gave me strength and power, while the bike gave me endurance and optimism. I constantly eyed the calendar, counting the days, completing my workouts and hitting my benchmarks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Addiction</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Taken a step further, obsession became something else. So fixated on my goal, I often lost track of priorities, focusing solely on the summit and the endless preparation required.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47JwF1TRBMsiIYVIHMpZkkpHAe2Zays_n9AiApoXyOr28auz5ItZC1q9x5jootHuEaEi3hEMSIHeZXM9anjLVfBW55kMb7VkgSyqFlLE3uaDlC6wpONk7eYFN6CaW0p6hoEBiOdyboGq4/s1600/IMG_3998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47JwF1TRBMsiIYVIHMpZkkpHAe2Zays_n9AiApoXyOr28auz5ItZC1q9x5jootHuEaEi3hEMSIHeZXM9anjLVfBW55kMb7VkgSyqFlLE3uaDlC6wpONk7eYFN6CaW0p6hoEBiOdyboGq4/s640/IMG_3998.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Stay on trail</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Practice</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Nearing the final stretch of training, I put all the pieces together to practice the various stages of the route. I trained in the heat, on huge climbs, at elevation, in the dark, on the dirt, and everything in between. Critically, I also practiced eating and drinking under the stresses of long strenuous climbs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Teamwork</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My 24-hour goal was impossible without a team. I assembled the best crew, Brandon and Kimber, and added another rider, Nate, for the second attempt. With much discussion on needs and logistics, we finalized the plan and approached the start. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Start: Badwater Basin, Death Valley, the lowest point on the continent (-282’). 3:01pm, 115°F.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-HRGzhQEKyZLdXH2N2kVoXlOrxDNkiRdmJDRsxMkyw5YUH_5umRkHlgvJ-HAwS3WX3vsA7ANg8BbthHNzzuDzlrMoUzVtP0woGneRoUgxVN-dBYnNjOfxrW6vVjgljLMTlMBV9C8EfFf7/s640/20180907_145948-Edit-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smiles at the start: Jeremy and Nate</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Determination</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Despite my training in the heat of summer, 115° is merciless and vicious. It is difficult to breathe. My heart races. It’s harder than expected. Frequent resupply is barely enough to keep the wheels rolling. I reach my first checkpoint dejected, pathetic, and miserable. Dante’s 7th Circle</span><span style="line-height: normal;"><sup>1</sup></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> wasn’t this hot. It feels like fate, but I am not yet resigned. To escape this Inferno, I must continue.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Stage 1 complete: 42mi to Stovepipe Wells (0’). Goal time 6pm. Actual 5:45, 108°F.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cwj30FAZf1_IQNqwbQ-sD5xtIgnCpiKDOmb9Wsou468vE6C6fTYHy5GcQy0e3UTzpzANJys2npEYVgEAbBiZHz1byJiE-t4BoOCYqHmSxTpF-qMWAXMWo5VzlavM5DMkVB899zaWqEKb/s1600/IMG_4257-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cwj30FAZf1_IQNqwbQ-sD5xtIgnCpiKDOmb9Wsou468vE6C6fTYHy5GcQy0e3UTzpzANJys2npEYVgEAbBiZHz1byJiE-t4BoOCYqHmSxTpF-qMWAXMWo5VzlavM5DMkVB899zaWqEKb/s640/IMG_4257-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Death Valley</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Suffering</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I knew the first stage would be brutal, but three hours in the Valley plays tricks on my mind. I’m looking for an excuse to stop. Maybe my knee hurts. Maybe I’m feeling sick. Maybe today just isn’t the day… We reach the first climb before sunset: a mistake. Dehydrated, overheated, with a 5000’ climb ahead, my body begs for a reprieve, but my mind is now stronger than ever. We continue. Up.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5I6jfN9RegBimw0_Z-UHUoiRTg_Luk_OYKWBu96TJoDZ8F_Bk7YkNKEAFdt7qhOv_Atppj1g24M-nSff25jsXMD-wNYBSOZB6h46oGngjoPZUGweseVYD8aXP3q6p9wfZF4OFiDT1l8g/s1600/1a20180907_161146-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5I6jfN9RegBimw0_Z-UHUoiRTg_Luk_OYKWBu96TJoDZ8F_Bk7YkNKEAFdt7qhOv_Atppj1g24M-nSff25jsXMD-wNYBSOZB6h46oGngjoPZUGweseVYD8aXP3q6p9wfZF4OFiDT1l8g/s200/1a20180907_161146-web.jpg" width="150" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Hotter than hell</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzjzC06c9AFsuxPG0HRGCJ4omokybFPb0Tee7V-iwFxOtLC7E2nHtlrZFsa-vdgxsm8GGLDqSP510cL_KJCsuRVS2FRxV2XrK-dBclFBRyUO6Ap88ewUO2bSRcF3cndy25AlN2m8ktTRx/s1600/1a20180907_161153-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzjzC06c9AFsuxPG0HRGCJ4omokybFPb0Tee7V-iwFxOtLC7E2nHtlrZFsa-vdgxsm8GGLDqSP510cL_KJCsuRVS2FRxV2XrK-dBclFBRyUO6Ap88ewUO2bSRcF3cndy25AlN2m8ktTRx/s200/1a20180907_161153-web.jpg" width="150" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Still smiling</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDiQsv7ZnU_7pnIOZzg7bQ9c1e6xjP4Jbthuoahn5vZtIBJOrtdLjYcyuWILzJmxRz81gA7NNHQP_w1F1MAOXm7zhTi2bzdm16KnIRmrlaBaxM7oYYTtoYLkg5AOi-arsW4TgTcEWeTwu/s1600/1a20180907_190150-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDiQsv7ZnU_7pnIOZzg7bQ9c1e6xjP4Jbthuoahn5vZtIBJOrtdLjYcyuWILzJmxRz81gA7NNHQP_w1F1MAOXm7zhTi2bzdm16KnIRmrlaBaxM7oYYTtoYLkg5AOi-arsW4TgTcEWeTwu/s200/1a20180907_190150-web.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Or not</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Co-misery</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The crew offer commiserations, but Nate and I share the real misery ourselves. Suffering with a partner makes it more bearable. <i>If he can do it…</i> It’s not the first time I’ve stared bleakly at his wheel and continued only because he was there. Finally, mercifully, the sun sets and the dusk breathes life into my soul.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYscw9AtWVfWAaehq-oZe-l3u0veKhi2ZrASYvaXAbVFOISum4nwpjR7EfQxaSrFVpwDO2yM4w32LVLu_XQb_uf-5SINFkvzFHfGy6XkKUMfAbR1HsKNJcii8J93ifjo-5qzSPQaRw7thi/s1600/4J5A7547-Edit-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYscw9AtWVfWAaehq-oZe-l3u0veKhi2ZrASYvaXAbVFOISum4nwpjR7EfQxaSrFVpwDO2yM4w32LVLu_XQb_uf-5SINFkvzFHfGy6XkKUMfAbR1HsKNJcii8J93ifjo-5qzSPQaRw7thi/s640/4J5A7547-Edit-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Leaving the Valley</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Camaraderie</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>With the distress waning, we breathe deeply, more easily, and take in the beauty of the night. Using minimal lighting, the stars fill our eyes and propel us through the dark.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZjrjUn_WFuqdas0D2z2dOlPnUd1kKCq4Io2kmDJJ-t4Kgsms6uLgPsFQeBOqB7j6fJyJHcnShI4ZwvMatupH2ed3Qk3az5xP5qzrmSPuwWma8_tcSIzFYj9B1UbaiZpGnaiwsMGMazX-/s1600/20180907_184932-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZjrjUn_WFuqdas0D2z2dOlPnUd1kKCq4Io2kmDJJ-t4Kgsms6uLgPsFQeBOqB7j6fJyJHcnShI4ZwvMatupH2ed3Qk3az5xP5qzrmSPuwWma8_tcSIzFYj9B1UbaiZpGnaiwsMGMazX-/s640/20180907_184932-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Darkness descends</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Hope</b>.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A year ago the wind whipped through this section, unleashing a torrent of torment on my psyche. I had opened Pandora’s box and the escaping sorrows clung to me until the end. This year, I dispatch the gloom, brace for the worst, and notice a token on the median: a gift from Pandora herself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Stage 2 complete: 49mi to Crowley summit (5300’). Goal time 10:30pm. Actual 11:50, 60°F.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvAqQPRuu4URejDREdf9id1M6unT1Xy3NvTRVSzwnwSOk_9CsrOrY4uTwksWQ5zk386CAez_M3AILkbgSPpaHrDQ8jWCFx2VxC1iI-updi7en6RXktOJWRDo_Vf85lDnqBXMeIrpfMvEX/s1600/20180907_225922-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvAqQPRuu4URejDREdf9id1M6unT1Xy3NvTRVSzwnwSOk_9CsrOrY4uTwksWQ5zk386CAez_M3AILkbgSPpaHrDQ8jWCFx2VxC1iI-updi7en6RXktOJWRDo_Vf85lDnqBXMeIrpfMvEX/s640/20180907_225922-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Midnight snack</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Luck</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The headwind from 2017 still gives me nightmares. I am prepared for another long challenging night, but this year feels different; the wind is at our back. For 10 hours Cerberus</span><span style="line-height: normal;"><sup>2</sup></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> has hounded us, but a tailwind turns the tide. The task ahead remains herculean, but for the moment, we are immortal. With steely resolve, I check our pace and smile wryly. It is our turn to chase the beast.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Stage 3 complete: 73mi to Big Pine (4000’). Goal time 4:30am. Actual 5:00, 60°F.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Efficiency</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Through the first twelve hours, our efficiency is superb. Minimal stops, quick refills, and excellent teamwork cut corners on the route. We find time by not losing time. I feel the momentum and take the opportunity for a full reset: a shower, hot meal, and fresh shorts.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvIn9gjaemQZjnP0f86vXbYhWQm-udqDeaXjGIsH3VBr3R0fkai-YJkJ0-l2K4j45z1T7XfkLflR15MyKv7NYFELNpcO7FFSZqYP6qrmb7LVEoKDNZ_CUzu6ujiZanbM0ySMO1oOXieNs/s1600/20180908_062642-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvIn9gjaemQZjnP0f86vXbYhWQm-udqDeaXjGIsH3VBr3R0fkai-YJkJ0-l2K4j45z1T7XfkLflR15MyKv7NYFELNpcO7FFSZqYP6qrmb7LVEoKDNZ_CUzu6ujiZanbM0ySMO1oOXieNs/s640/20180908_062642-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Through the gates</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Selfishness</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My passion for this project has infected my friends, but in the end, nobody cares more than I do. I’ve taken countless mornings, evening, and weekends preparing for this moment, often at the expense of family and other opportunities. Now begins the final climb: 10,000’ to gain. After 14 hours riding together, Nate starts to drift behind. For the next 10 hours, we’ll ride alone. I have my own demons to fight and my own score to settle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Stage 4 complete: 23mi to the Bristlecone Forest (10,000’). Goal time 8am. Actual 8:30, 50°F.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY17fMBh1OXhhqeH0ZVzhlXmbor4IEPSQPI_pxzF8dl93mN22lzvYyA6TRXxCHML6WmBWMtk9glo-NZWamevS1EGx9MWBxBR1GxJVXmPcx2l7vaGDWs0MY3ngG6_UD8C2YoYcf86NoMVT_/s1600/20180908_070653-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY17fMBh1OXhhqeH0ZVzhlXmbor4IEPSQPI_pxzF8dl93mN22lzvYyA6TRXxCHML6WmBWMtk9glo-NZWamevS1EGx9MWBxBR1GxJVXmPcx2l7vaGDWs0MY3ngG6_UD8C2YoYcf86NoMVT_/s400/20180908_070653-web.jpg" width="266" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Alone to Bristlecone </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZsV5aaB-vRlfxBsey2vlNRd4MF7qrVc1OCr1lNhrYN8Af7PmAPI1_pqK6tLeZJIK9IggqHCd81DsubZrsNfo7i5mobq8brlc5BCdrRzHZllIlptmImnKefRxY0QcZfqYhzJj0M8XUP8I/s1600/20180908_064819-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZsV5aaB-vRlfxBsey2vlNRd4MF7qrVc1OCr1lNhrYN8Af7PmAPI1_pqK6tLeZJIK9IggqHCd81DsubZrsNfo7i5mobq8brlc5BCdrRzHZllIlptmImnKefRxY0QcZfqYhzJj0M8XUP8I/s400/20180908_064819-web.jpg" width="266" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">After a long night</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Gratitude</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I invented this goal, the most net elevation gain in under 24 hours, as the most difficult challenge I could conceivably complete. Other riders may well do it faster, or find a harder route or a bigger mountain, but for my skill set, this attempt is the pinnacle of my ability. It takes a huge team effort to complete this ride and I literally couldn't do it without my crew. The countless water bottles and calories, the batteries and gear, the infinite encouragement, after 18 hours of support, I fully realize how grateful I am to my team. Brandon, Kimber, and Nate prove indispensable, as do the family and friends back home who lend us vehicles, provide childcare, and generally pick up my slack when I need a rest day (or two).</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Stage 5 complete: 15mi to the Barcroft Gate (11,700’). Goal time 11am. Actual 11:15, 60°F.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtOjKDcyfr2_fOY1lcQE869VXaZpYPS8myrXci37AGfblrSBabpVubd8Fotjnu7Bo4mCgf0l7HCIEZHgco7qKOBBtUNeNXg2wQJPU9PmUH9BarLUNKRuF19Cuka-rjW15Ln06LPNKSwXX0/s1600/20180908_114120-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtOjKDcyfr2_fOY1lcQE869VXaZpYPS8myrXci37AGfblrSBabpVubd8Fotjnu7Bo4mCgf0l7HCIEZHgco7qKOBBtUNeNXg2wQJPU9PmUH9BarLUNKRuF19Cuka-rjW15Ln06LPNKSwXX0/s640/20180908_114120-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Endless horizon</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Perseverance</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A year ago, the miles before the Gate left me weak and sputtering. With Brandon now riding next to me, this year is different. Only a few minutes behind the pace, I float past the Gate and glide up the ramp to Barcroft. Vivid memories of the previous struggle envelop me, but I brush them off and surge forward. I reach the stones of last year’s DNF and stop for a symbolic snack and photo. Hikers on the trail are astonished at our progress, but warn that “it only gets harder from here.” <i>You don’t say?</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6wIRUUHaKy0ZO0hwImbACnwLAO0YtfUFtznASOngZYTE_5Ji0hS_uBeWW-OBUBSp0aiHfX7bCdcascupWegiiyCI8NysRbUaW9VtFFqbl9j7UhxS52e7dQwMBJ1IyhK5QZc8kYnxceKC/s1600/20180908_120222-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6wIRUUHaKy0ZO0hwImbACnwLAO0YtfUFtznASOngZYTE_5Ji0hS_uBeWW-OBUBSp0aiHfX7bCdcascupWegiiyCI8NysRbUaW9VtFFqbl9j7UhxS52e7dQwMBJ1IyhK5QZc8kYnxceKC/s640/20180908_120222-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Summit in sight</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Stage 6: 10mi to the Peak.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Tenacity</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The final pitch becomes unridable. The trail narrows, steepens, and sharpens. To consider the route ‘completed by bike,’ the bike must make the summit too. Pushing a mountain bike uphill, a Sisyphean</span><span style="line-height: normal;"><sup>3</sup></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> task at 14,000’, proves the hikers right. Switchback upon switchback, progress is indiscernible. A mile from the summit, with 1000’ to gain, I take some food and grit my teeth. I mount the bike, leaving Sisyphus behind. The clock is ticking and I’m not yet ready to pay for my sins.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>End: White Mountain Peak, the highest point (by bike) on the continent (14,252’). 1:52pm, 50°F.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Satisfaction</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I crest the final switchback and receive a welcome greeting from another hiker. Probably thinking I’ve done only ten miles, not two-hundred and ten, she cheers “Congratulations! You made it!” Exhausted, out of breath, I’m able to stammer, <i>You have no idea… how much …this means… to me.</i> I collapse on the summit platform and reach for my clock: 22 hours, 51 minutes, 56 seconds.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj7ewi46E-8PMk7dRCUnWpBiUJrKcVTpOTYFo3yvAe_GAwt1eqtk0-5CDSLKWjVJmhTSEXMfTzM-GsSrrYfYc_JjlMOfN81vmkUhYLz6FeDJey1wizx6miDkpksT1NbtbX8JFAikLoyfL/s1600/IMG_4277-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj7ewi46E-8PMk7dRCUnWpBiUJrKcVTpOTYFo3yvAe_GAwt1eqtk0-5CDSLKWjVJmhTSEXMfTzM-GsSrrYfYc_JjlMOfN81vmkUhYLz6FeDJey1wizx6miDkpksT1NbtbX8JFAikLoyfL/s640/IMG_4277-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Trail's end</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Relief</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I savor the summit alone, looking widely out and down, absorbing the mountain of effort below. Brandon rolls his own stone to the top, and for a moment we have the world to ourselves. We celebrate, we sigh, we embrace, and barely, I cry.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIQVWCcKqm3HnDeH19g3B1MN4nA26ASDZoa4PALSQ3Mpf_JLYuvOkbO8nVUAHZrw-YD_dP53u-DzVQmC3_BgSczlcF7p4tOzkzHl-Md92n_yE4ckDrgzLWAVizjfFFrzx4h0X6PN13Bzb/s1600/IMG_4314-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIQVWCcKqm3HnDeH19g3B1MN4nA26ASDZoa4PALSQ3Mpf_JLYuvOkbO8nVUAHZrw-YD_dP53u-DzVQmC3_BgSczlcF7p4tOzkzHl-Md92n_yE4ckDrgzLWAVizjfFFrzx4h0X6PN13Bzb/s640/IMG_4314-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Warmer memories of the peak in 2018</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pride</b>.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> If pride is a sin</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"> I’m going to hell</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"> Take me to Badwater</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> I’ll ring the bell</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdIE0BVZJxRloDZPRVrUV24ofhV8fxdIIGcpgDxMwj3-XuOP3hBw7up6B9e6L2NYzhYVjVF-ia-OQb1J97MX_Db2_a0RcOdSUbjG6gTe9DMNoGYAcpi4x7w739Wh_FeHPDcnX5J-iapNQ/s1600/IMG_4329-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdIE0BVZJxRloDZPRVrUV24ofhV8fxdIIGcpgDxMwj3-XuOP3hBw7up6B9e6L2NYzhYVjVF-ia-OQb1J97MX_Db2_a0RcOdSUbjG6gTe9DMNoGYAcpi4x7w739Wh_FeHPDcnX5J-iapNQ/s640/IMG_4329-web.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Epilogue</b>.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Net gain, in a day: 14,534’, a national record.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Afterword</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Nate is hugely inspiring. On short notice, with little training, he joined this ride on borrowed bikes and managed, through grueling effort, to reach mile 210. Only 2 miles from the summit, the clock expired and we had to turn him back. No doubt he could have finished in the dark, but it didn’t feel safe to send him up alone. It’s eerily similar to my 2017 result, but I hope his optimism will still consider it a success. His adventures are mythical, and if his mistakes put him through </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "helvetica";">hell</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; line-height: normal;"><sup>4</sup></span>, at least I’ll have good company.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brandon - Jeremy - Nate</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQaI4njYMo6xj7ZjcAs-Kz6ykBZ4-CqfQDZnOzt-JAPoJwC_FMtrVowifn9evxsG-_Dy0r02xldt8Q70c-Y6JhNW-YZMb8uhpJ5Xy-np0ntA9zUgYhVh4N6epbGGckR2pGAB-HZROYZL9q/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-09-25+at+3.08.42+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQaI4njYMo6xj7ZjcAs-Kz6ykBZ4-CqfQDZnOzt-JAPoJwC_FMtrVowifn9evxsG-_Dy0r02xldt8Q70c-Y6JhNW-YZMb8uhpJ5Xy-np0ntA9zUgYhVh4N6epbGGckR2pGAB-HZROYZL9q/s640/Screen+Shot+2018-09-25+at+3.08.42+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">1. Dante’s 14</span><span style="line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> century epic poem, <i>Inferno</i>, leads the journey through nine concentric circles of hell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;">2. The three-headed ‘hound of Hades’ guards the gates of hell to prevent the dead from leaving.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">3. Forced to push a boulder to the top of the mountain only to see it roll back down, Sisyphus must start again and repeat the process for eternity.</span><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">4. Hercules’s last of 12 labors was to descend to hell and capture Cerberus.</span><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Gps data: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/1828774248/overview" target="_blank">Strava route</a></span></span></div>
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Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-70011742556923454022017-09-27T14:53:00.000-07:002017-10-25T13:41:38.272-07:00September 2017: Badwater - White Mountain 24hr Attempt<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">INTRODUCTION</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> California’s geographic diversity is unrivaled. The Golden State is home to the nation’s lowest point, in Death Valley, and the highest* point, Mount Whitney, and everything in between.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The proximity of Badwater Basin (282 feet below sea level) and Mount Whitney (14,505 feet above) is surprising; the two are less than 100 miles apart. They are in fact close enough that one can see both locations simultaneously (Dante’s View), or even visit both on the same day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This same-day visit is the inspiration for my attempt. The Whitney area is off-limits to bikes, but there is a sister peak, in a parallel range, that provides rideable terrain up to its 14,252’ summit. Nowhere else in the country, perhaps even the world, can you ride a bike through such a vast range of elevation in a single day. The net gain of 14,534’ is the most I’ve found in my research. Admittedly I haven’t proved this, but I propose that the ride from Badwater (-282’) to White Mountain (14,252’) is the largest net gain possible to traverse by bike in one day. <i>Edit: as of October, I've found a larger possible contender, but it will have to wait for another time.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The challenge is simple: start at the bottom, ride to the top, in under 24 hours.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Among the 48 contiguous United States. AK has higher.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tMXZbeBchQkSjH9sUO_3L5lfq7oOwhyc4BOGQUTYCoVGuxFccz_ENiA_LCEhlifv3SF4Q734waB58P1uOhe9dQYpYE5lcExMh45lpzqp09hoRY6bSPEM5Nz4PoqD0BhUyCASfmYugwS0/s1600/4J5A6025-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tMXZbeBchQkSjH9sUO_3L5lfq7oOwhyc4BOGQUTYCoVGuxFccz_ENiA_LCEhlifv3SF4Q734waB58P1uOhe9dQYpYE5lcExMh45lpzqp09hoRY6bSPEM5Nz4PoqD0BhUyCASfmYugwS0/s640/4J5A6025-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start here</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">GOAL</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span>The goal is obviously to complete the challenge, but also to push myself beyond my limits and test my mettle in the face of a daunting, if not impossible, endeavor. The idea of setting a national record, and a type of ‘first ascent’, is very appealing. The bragging rights would be precious, but secondary to the personal satisfaction of completion.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJZ-40Vznrg91duX_DlmKENA8m5co-Z6oi5P2mIyL2thLs1JuYfbnXQzU-ZS214Ss6Dez6ey3KCzn3gb0WRMZ8M-hgLEzHS83DUGMg6VkJDHCqfVuTWtR7k8agliEqSXHFcwc37kVA3H6/s1600/20170915_151038-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJZ-40Vznrg91duX_DlmKENA8m5co-Z6oi5P2mIyL2thLs1JuYfbnXQzU-ZS214Ss6Dez6ey3KCzn3gb0WRMZ8M-hgLEzHS83DUGMg6VkJDHCqfVuTWtR7k8agliEqSXHFcwc37kVA3H6/s640/20170915_151038-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Death Valley</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">ROUTE</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span>The route choice is simple. The easy* way is to ride pavement from Badwater, north through Death Valley, west across two mountain ranges, north through the Owen’s Valley, and continue to where the gravel begins, 187 miles later, at 10,000’ elevation. From there, continue north on rough undulating gravel until the path reaches the summit, at mile 210.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*There are no easy ways, but any shorter route would likely be slower, as the desert is mostly dirt.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeR188E9nuVya9IYq3WkaGIfAJO_lCjcl0oOYOZ44otessd5zSwP7llpz6AvuH6YPbli3-u-Jcb8vKA_omrpV1lT5cEnHNu5gBbmPSSWvFOaC3g5JmTmNim0leMES1uIkERdW0IdrRyO-D/s1600/4J5A6028-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeR188E9nuVya9IYq3WkaGIfAJO_lCjcl0oOYOZ44otessd5zSwP7llpz6AvuH6YPbli3-u-Jcb8vKA_omrpV1lT5cEnHNu5gBbmPSSWvFOaC3g5JmTmNim0leMES1uIkERdW0IdrRyO-D/s640/4J5A6028-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desert twilight</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">WHY</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> People always ask <i>Why?</i>, but I don’t have an answer yet. George Mallory famously said about Mt. Everest, when asked why he wanted to climb it, “Because it’s there.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Perhaps it is that simple, but there are other elements to my motivation. Expanding on my goal, I want to examine what it means to reach a breaking point. I know that during the attempt I will experience a time of regret, of despair, of broken will, and finally a desire to quit. I ask myself, <i>what happens when you hit the ‘wall’?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lastly, I rarely attempt things with uncertain outcomes. It’s time to take a risk and see what happens.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJ-Hsq2spR7lJR5D9ILXFBa5OHEk0p0saXsGd7Re5oIHREiLJV2rNHDTinKhQ8Nc2YSbk2tWpLan1VihnJDjvti5JVlaIWnctUDpF4_IrWqFF1-270mTdd35ddmb_PQ_EJ2DihBa28OtB/s1600/20170915_181558-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJ-Hsq2spR7lJR5D9ILXFBa5OHEk0p0saXsGd7Re5oIHREiLJV2rNHDTinKhQ8Nc2YSbk2tWpLan1VihnJDjvti5JVlaIWnctUDpF4_IrWqFF1-270mTdd35ddmb_PQ_EJ2DihBa28OtB/s400/20170915_181558-web.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early miles</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>HOW</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span>While planning, I ride. To harden my legs and mind, I compete in bike races, join long group rides, and endure much solo suffering. Hill repeats, flat track laps in the dark, rides at 100 degrees, others at 30, and double days add flavor to my training.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBa6yvfIkO7mqTbl_NFXjHpk3yDuo_7DvCZz61W5C9427pOZtnU0YBdqhPS6MV2TOCXSGXsi1vaLlkBrMeeR1aSFgAg5UNIDKHj_BX2CMUg5uMwpSs0GsgKxBEVUgO_jh1HAEFu8SwMeu/s1600/4J5A6054-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBa6yvfIkO7mqTbl_NFXjHpk3yDuo_7DvCZz61W5C9427pOZtnU0YBdqhPS6MV2TOCXSGXsi1vaLlkBrMeeR1aSFgAg5UNIDKHj_BX2CMUg5uMwpSs0GsgKxBEVUgO_jh1HAEFu8SwMeu/s640/4J5A6054-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darkness approaching</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>WEATHER</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> Death Valley is famous for its heat. An air temperate of 134°F was once measured, the highest ever recorded on Earth. As if the ride isn’t long and steep enough already, it begins, quite literally, in the hottest place on Earth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On the other end, White Mountain gets a full dose of winter snow, and chilling cold winds even in summer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The attempt must fit into a narrow weather window that includes the melting of high-elevation snow fields, warm (above-freezing) summit temperatures, cool (under 100) desert nights, clear skies, and if lucky, calm winds throughout. By observing historical weather data, the best chance for success comes in mid-September.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>ATTEMPT</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> The forecast for Sept 15, 2017, is perfect: 100 in Death Valley, 30 at White Mountain, clear skies and calm winds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>5:45pm, I begin. Over smooth roads, with minimal traffic, the first few hours are wonderful and exciting. My teammates ride with me, in alternating sections.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>8:30pm, I hit the first climb, a five thousand footer up to Townes Pass. Similar to my training, I suffer the climbing alone. Still fresh and confident, it feels easier than expected. Riding uphill in the dark is an unusual experience. The road becomes a treadmill, with no sign of progress. I am stationary, while the pavement spins beneath me and disappears behind.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuND36lGtNYZkqtoeHIeVe8zVcOt1qyaJMkultgxQz0gjUW_HaMD4ktXpUL8g4Vx8zdQ86Q09LFUlSFvbnPt4l_c7GHDD1K1RtKjivMANuJfmahByWOHATzKXBmlHNqkH05sk6DEv0sqJP/s1600/4J5A6074-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuND36lGtNYZkqtoeHIeVe8zVcOt1qyaJMkultgxQz0gjUW_HaMD4ktXpUL8g4Vx8zdQ86Q09LFUlSFvbnPt4l_c7GHDD1K1RtKjivMANuJfmahByWOHATzKXBmlHNqkH05sk6DEv0sqJP/s640/4J5A6074-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night climbing</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> 10:30pm, I reach the summit ahead of schedule, to find the team fast asleep. It’s the first speed bump in my plan. I was hoping for a smooth transition, with food, water, headlamps, and a bike change. Instead, my mind races and the clock ticks. Another sloppy switch after the descent leaves me frustrated: a waste of time, effort and patience. The first negative thoughts creep in as I begin the second climb shortly before midnight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>12:45am, I dip into <i>regret</i>. The wind shifts, swirling through the canyon, buffeting my helmet as I ride the treadmill. The miles crawl slowly and my impatience only exaggerates the difficulty. I round a corner to see Brandon in the middle of the road, dancing. He joins me to ride the last few miles of the climb. Like steeping tea, his energy radiates and fills my cup. We summit with smiles and continue into the night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>3:00am, David pulls me through the flats, but it feels uphill. The wind will play tricks on you, like Winnie the Pooh. Friday becomes Windsday and for hours and hours and miles and miles, the wind is relentless. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLkhLcaU_Jk">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLkhLcaU_Jk</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Dark-thirty, <i>despair.</i> The plan is breaking, the transitions are lazy, the wind is my nightmare, food is repulsive, and the whole thing is complete shit. We pass a 24-hour casino, where I visit the restroom, put a quarter in the slot, and walk out lighter, fresher, and ready for another dose of suck. Rule V. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><a href="http://www.velominati.com/the-rules/#5">http://www.velominati.com/the-rules/#5</a></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb6bex2FTkguGQOjES87bFnDkaOPm-KI5RnUa_PlQO3TnbBjYWEHjLxEHsU-0XjnORWVFzq7vfG3K7MJUWnCLBCcmVP8rree15F7IGijQ8EuVhs1fcImtsjpwSdwugSJce-b0FB0lBCJzE/s1600/20170916_055509-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb6bex2FTkguGQOjES87bFnDkaOPm-KI5RnUa_PlQO3TnbBjYWEHjLxEHsU-0XjnORWVFzq7vfG3K7MJUWnCLBCcmVP8rree15F7IGijQ8EuVhs1fcImtsjpwSdwugSJce-b0FB0lBCJzE/s640/20170916_055509-web.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dawn despair</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> Sunrise-ish, flat tire. Hit a staple. Suck. Twilight pulls the heat from the air and the temperate drops 10 degrees. Shiver.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>7:45am, we limp to Big Pine and I have my first serious doubts about the attempt. The headwind has cracked my optimism. Even the effervescence of Brandon and David can’t fizz my drink. We’re behind schedule, my legs are jello, my whole body shudders at 45°. My <i>will</i> is bleeding. Soup, oatmeal, fruit, drinks, and warm dry clothes stanch my decline. Dave proves to be an excellent cook. Nobody ever made a meaner Cup’o’Noodles.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJ_HpJdpPU84kAdVUOwVbOaelT15_Ca6udF90SOhnfUhA99-7qoVZwnGuKxknNd0CH1D8EPCc1i4Fd7RyQe5R64fpnVpEbH-CQ38U8qBlHpKSdCI-svkEWxbjkHRPoia8C2JSPQ1iK5EQ/s1600/20170916_080002%25280%2529-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJ_HpJdpPU84kAdVUOwVbOaelT15_Ca6udF90SOhnfUhA99-7qoVZwnGuKxknNd0CH1D8EPCc1i4Fd7RyQe5R64fpnVpEbH-CQ38U8qBlHpKSdCI-svkEWxbjkHRPoia8C2JSPQ1iK5EQ/s400/20170916_080002%25280%2529-web.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soup salvation</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span>8:15am, Tyrel makes his mark. He has been mostly in the background for the first 12 hours, riding only a few miles, sleeping much of the night. But now he shows a skill that the rest of us currently lack: the ability to quietly listen. He absorbs my complaints, my excuses, and stoically reflects what I no longer see: strength and determination. Whether he says anything or not, his message is clear: <i>get back on the bike</i>.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMRxh8LxgQRCs8_hUlSv1CRegYw0ZBbqME8AkWLg_QH3jFNCItxJvRhlMkEs_sdFKqBZ4u8zLEMv5APJPxa9pwOQFtgQukMKKPh6H7OCd1JZI0PXn0xta_446-ME4nCwO1LI3DqcztcJH/s1600/20170916_094948-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMRxh8LxgQRCs8_hUlSv1CRegYw0ZBbqME8AkWLg_QH3jFNCItxJvRhlMkEs_sdFKqBZ4u8zLEMv5APJPxa9pwOQFtgQukMKKPh6H7OCd1JZI0PXn0xta_446-ME4nCwO1LI3DqcztcJH/s640/20170916_094948-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smash it</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>8:30am, refreshed, renewed, and out of the wind, I turn and face the final grade. I smash the first pitch, a paved climb from 4000’ to 7,500’. I am invincible. Onward, upward, I continue, stomping the pedals. Nearing 10,000’, I pass two motorcycles who give me a whoop and cheer. “Almost there,” I say. They respond, laughing, “The Hell you are!”</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy2BsH23D30JI5CflU-e2friFpCEI2FIJAcGZ2op8Zo3-oXEds0VMgaU3IjE80TK9i4jTeocW7SNHt0FIP-HCPYArMrx_02sdzO12aVxTfayXC9lQoXsbbU3D0Vw12qcPt0AVFx8UFlKA/s1600/4J5A6140-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy2BsH23D30JI5CflU-e2friFpCEI2FIJAcGZ2op8Zo3-oXEds0VMgaU3IjE80TK9i4jTeocW7SNHt0FIP-HCPYArMrx_02sdzO12aVxTfayXC9lQoXsbbU3D0Vw12qcPt0AVFx8UFlKA/s640/4J5A6140-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pavement's end</td></tr>
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<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "helvetica";"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Noon, where the pavement ends, mile 188, there’s a crowd of people who have glimpsed the attempt. They gasp at the 18 hours already served, and ponder the difficulty of the remaining miles. <i>We’re a little behind schedule, but it’ll go</i>. “Good luck,” they say. We </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica";">continue, this time with confidence.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjJwPFGEKIwad91V7SSbVKWW0F_eIyUzk-Fit69PujiTJmYzGf1OLgUqb21GFC_h-c6zoe4qkaXBTixIW1fh_6iPrYbcbX_T8U-UU3Tx-5ByB0IwnfZXyIb6MqCqtJ5XJeOzXghfB4ke1/s1600/20170916_120114%25280%2529-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjJwPFGEKIwad91V7SSbVKWW0F_eIyUzk-Fit69PujiTJmYzGf1OLgUqb21GFC_h-c6zoe4qkaXBTixIW1fh_6iPrYbcbX_T8U-UU3Tx-5ByB0IwnfZXyIb6MqCqtJ5XJeOzXghfB4ke1/s400/20170916_120114%25280%2529-web.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last meal</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>2:30pm, only ten miles later, I crest a nasty pitch, 18% grade says the computer, and see 200 flash on the odometer. The effort is taking a cumulative toll. Lack of sleep, food, water, energy, makes everything wane xcept desire. It’s hard think clear. My rests longer. More. Ffocus! I bail and walk a technical spot, pushing my bike. Through all the dirt and rock, Tyrel is there, still listening, providing strength by example.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfEqLCro2z_4wJ3_EQbp2vsXEhN_-jzSIuFQ-jYkiivzz8UbfSRESLP9rnt93suPk1uYZiEMGRrZSRlySVKafkiIYdnkbbZDVJDXtdz3VYYBQPH38MG2iEYI5jJxFiQVtV13hF_Grw1JD/s1600/4J5A6236-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfEqLCro2z_4wJ3_EQbp2vsXEhN_-jzSIuFQ-jYkiivzz8UbfSRESLP9rnt93suPk1uYZiEMGRrZSRlySVKafkiIYdnkbbZDVJDXtdz3VYYBQPH38MG2iEYI5jJxFiQVtV13hF_Grw1JD/s640/4J5A6236-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two hundred</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span>3:30pm, after countless false summits and infinite horizons, White Mountain finally comes to view. A rush of emotion hits me. It’s the first I’ve laid eyes on the target. After twenty hours, I can actually see the finish. My chest shudders and my mouth is instantly dry. We reach the locked gate below Barcroft Station and hastily load packs for the impending cold.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixfs6AQhdpVTQdL-EgEIJJvrtPOSpRv3Fwf_Xe9JWYGePd5bjSdukd13S5d-1yHsu1gYMCZqfDSjhpfFlLYuhlRxpxcv1L1vcCp5nQ85Izvhl8FtZvI6PcKATGfInhCC6GA0bf9ayfEKQR/s1600/4J5A6267-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixfs6AQhdpVTQdL-EgEIJJvrtPOSpRv3Fwf_Xe9JWYGePd5bjSdukd13S5d-1yHsu1gYMCZqfDSjhpfFlLYuhlRxpxcv1L1vcCp5nQ85Izvhl8FtZvI6PcKATGfInhCC6GA0bf9ayfEKQR/s640/4J5A6267-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Mountain</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> 4:00pm, the <i>Wall</i>. It has arrived, and it’s built of stone and cemented by wind. I never expected to drop at mile 205, but I can’t pedal fast enough to stay upright. I weakly stand and slump on the bars. The 1/2 mile to the station looks impossible. I walk. Push. Close my eyes. Stumble. Stop. Remount and pedal for… as long as I can… a minute? I dismount and lay where I fall, in the dirt. Alone and overwhelmed. Moments later the team arrives and I break down. <i>Food! Water! Warm clothes! Give me your pack! Optimism! Support!</i> But all I can do is sit and cry. I have bonked. I am <i>broken</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>5:00pm, the ride is over. There’s still some daylight, but the clock spins faster than my wheels. The four of us crest a small ridge and drop into the last depression before the final summit ramp. In other circumstances it would be a stunning place to watch the sun set across the peak, but today, in this high valley, all I feel is <i>low</i>. It is time to <i>quit</i>.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQOwUSiwM1eSRoWZCdacEJTq86To-vv-2F1Z1kq9wEa56d_yquiXMmah61-M_As48vE8d173kElvnGzEgrQE9ujS_sOSB-n6ToDyzQAOBFr9OKm-TOCqtdHt0AzWckAQukzvXMhzUTcM-/s1600/20170916_173423-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQOwUSiwM1eSRoWZCdacEJTq86To-vv-2F1Z1kq9wEa56d_yquiXMmah61-M_As48vE8d173kElvnGzEgrQE9ujS_sOSB-n6ToDyzQAOBFr9OKm-TOCqtdHt0AzWckAQukzvXMhzUTcM-/s400/20170916_173423-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">End there</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>5:45pm, I am racked by shivers. The agony of defeat is heightened by the cold wind. My emotions spill, my composure falters, I am barely able to mouth the words, <i>I’m done.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I stop the clock, wipe a dirty mitt across my cheeks, and take a single photo of the foreboding peak. With a final glance, we turn. Downhill. I can’t look back.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6f70icsIj-GlhtTc6G3__GHIGNkrAkehlir9-TrONwCQFEKLfqAyQqBaKBjegAEWOC1VHeFA-AnS5paWdqW_ViVtVpvfq6NZ4FOwrhzFi0PWs4lATg53lACjoPprpM-rNXth0V-ZpOXxC/s1600/IMG_2454-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6f70icsIj-GlhtTc6G3__GHIGNkrAkehlir9-TrONwCQFEKLfqAyQqBaKBjegAEWOC1VHeFA-AnS5paWdqW_ViVtVpvfq6NZ4FOwrhzFi0PWs4lATg53lACjoPprpM-rNXth0V-ZpOXxC/s640/IMG_2454-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last look</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>TWENTY-TWENTY</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"> </span> It’s easy to see mistakes in hindsight. Besides being fitter, faster, and tougher, the most room for improvement lies in efficiency. Much time was wasted on poor transitions. With better planning, I could have saved an hour or two.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> Also, I struggled to eat enough calories throughout the climbs. Food simply didn’t taste good and it was hard to force it down. Riding at an energy deficit can work for a few hours, or even ten, but at 24 hours, my body couldn’t continue.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Despite the perfect weather forecast, the headwind was an unexpected adversary. It slowed my pace by 10-20%, which when considered over 90 miles from Panamint Springs to Big Pine might have cost me an hour. The mental fatigue of an eight hour headwind also contributed to my overall degrade. (No excuses, right? <i>Rule V</i>.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lastly, if I had a chance to change one thing, I would have started the ride earlier. I was so committed to a 24hr limit that I didn’t leave enough room for plan B. Starting a couple hours earlier would have given enough time to <i>fail</i> the 24 while still reaching the summit for a <i>successful*</i> attempt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*I made the rules.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TBJaQYbaXlzj0x1DK9lkpIk4rp6la4tv1cXnyg3xkRMMM320RiVytVSmwcnlRZWmhv1iETUFDoL2VQt9LgwcfiKI3MfMYq2CxuRapOa8WHZ54ok0sCEkk7CGYR-nkQrezuTgDRDS8HjZ/s1600/20170916_150714-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TBJaQYbaXlzj0x1DK9lkpIk4rp6la4tv1cXnyg3xkRMMM320RiVytVSmwcnlRZWmhv1iETUFDoL2VQt9LgwcfiKI3MfMYq2CxuRapOa8WHZ54ok0sCEkk7CGYR-nkQrezuTgDRDS8HjZ/s640/20170916_150714-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Next time</td></tr>
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I certainly accomplished some of what I set out to do. I pushed well beyond my previous limits and experienced each of the predicted phases between <i>regret</i> and the <i>wall.</i> While I ran out of time to break through the final wall, I was able to negotiate the preceding low points. Most of the rebounds were mental boosts provided by my teammates, but other sparks came from food, clothing changes, and music.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The attempt did set some new personal bests: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/1188550345" target="_blank">207 miles, 13,000’ net gain (21,000’ total)</a>. These are impressive, but I think I can do better. When the snow melts, I’ll return for attempt number two.</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: x-small;"><b>Gratitude</b></span><br />
I am indebted to Brandon, David, and Tyrel for their tireless effort to keep me going. Their aid-station teamwork was invaluable, but their mental, verbal, and physical encouragement was priceless. I also owe thanks for the photos of this attempt, as seen above.<br />
As Warren Miller says, "hope to see you next year, same time, same place."<br />
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Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-24040658869174313052016-09-28T13:56:00.000-07:002016-10-06T10:24:32.925-07:00September 2016: Cycling the Northern California Coast<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Team</b></span><br />
Nate and I are finally competent touring cyclists. We’ve ridden over 1000 miles, camped a dozen nights, and learned a few bike repair skills. We’re no experts, compared to the riders we meet along the trail, but we have a system that works for us. Instead of the usual day-by-day play-by-play, I hope the following stories will be more interesting.<br />
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Our 2010 ride finished at the Oregon-California border, and our 2014 ride began in San Francisco. We did Washington last year, so the route choice this year is easy: OR/CA to S.F.</div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">It happens to be the longest section of the coast, at 465mi, which takes 7 days at our preferred pace. It also has the most elevation undulation, at 30,000’ of gain. </span></span>The route follows highways 101 and 1, and uses surfaces streets and bike paths wherever possible.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Off the highway. Route finding.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Preparation</b></span></span><br />
A long adventure often requires some suffering. In cycling, it’s a badge of honor, something to brag about, to go for a <i>sufferfest</i>. Your ride is too long, too hot, too hilly, too hard, and your butt hurts, your legs cramp, your neck aches, and it’s completely miserable until the end, when you get to tell everybody how much fun it was. Wait, what? It wasn’t fun during the ride, but it was amazing afterwards? That’s what we call Type II fun.</div>
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To prepare for a Type II adventure, it’s best to practice a little Type II fun. I rode my bike 40 miles uphill, from 600’ elevation to over 6000’, on one continuous climb. Near the very summit, the ride downgraded to Type I/II, where it was still uncomfortable, but the stunning views put a smile on my sweaty face. The downhill was Type I fun, the whole way down. That’s where it’s fun throughout and you never want it to stop.<br />
I did a few of those rides this summer, including one monster in Washington with Nate. There’s an event that Rides Around Mount Rainier in One Day: RAMROD. It’s 150mi with 10,000’ elevation gain. Nate did one short ride beforehand, but mostly did it ‘off the couch’. It was a 10-hour pedal, with a few lunch breaks in between. We got tired at the end, or maybe closer to the middle, but we finished with smiles, despite my route error that cost us a few miles and some hills near the end. For me, it was barely Type II, but I think Nate might disagree. He did, however, climb Rainier the following day, up above 14,000’. Off the couch to a 150mi ride and a 14k summit? He’s Type Two Tough.</div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">RAMROD was in July. It was Nate’s only training for the September tour.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKrKTR55IcOIZsdvH98q7Ia5VGKKWn3ibgX3HoCZ_KB9NqLPVIM8FoqAGf_RqBSY1AGmzhZfoa1eDHVNyQx2h0w0vEPI7qKz87LDQPwDDhLWMbRmvzWAIquF9zk9ZhrNJ-Ng6Rigaqc9DG/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-09-28+at+9.57.25+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKrKTR55IcOIZsdvH98q7Ia5VGKKWn3ibgX3HoCZ_KB9NqLPVIM8FoqAGf_RqBSY1AGmzhZfoa1eDHVNyQx2h0w0vEPI7qKz87LDQPwDDhLWMbRmvzWAIquF9zk9ZhrNJ-Ng6Rigaqc9DG/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-09-28+at+9.57.25+AM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rainier in a day.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Gear</b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;">My steel touring bike is a beast. It’s strong and tough and hasn’t had a flat tire in 1500 miles. Still, it’s heavy, and the route has enough hills to warrant a gear diet. I slough as much weight as possible, including the front panniers, my fenders, most of my camera gear, and, of course, half of my clothing. Two shorts, two jerseys, three socks, one set of pants and shirt for camp, a puffy coat, a rain coat and a warm hat is all I need.</span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Okay, three <i>pair</i> of socks, for those keeping score. Also, if I'm desperate, I can turn my chamois shorts inside out and it counts as a fresh pair. So that’s really <i>four</i> shorts. Only kidding, I only do that trick with underwear.</span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;">People often ask, “how much does your bike weigh?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I answer, “Enough.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Importantly, and gratefully, Nate does bring bike lube this year. We both use it on Day 2 and are squeaky-free the rest of the trip.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-fAGpvB0gyZ1Mxm1flNSDd-YWMABlCq23p_9HNuyTMR2nyoJ45fl1vFJ5zquPfgG8IYIOUbn62vSCzdr0cSVpegsmFbyMqsz0d6K0k33t6NqgXMUmnI-VMeVQZYm8ahxmJH6VjIwyD6c/s1600/4J5A4229-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-fAGpvB0gyZ1Mxm1flNSDd-YWMABlCq23p_9HNuyTMR2nyoJ45fl1vFJ5zquPfgG8IYIOUbn62vSCzdr0cSVpegsmFbyMqsz0d6K0k33t6NqgXMUmnI-VMeVQZYm8ahxmJH6VjIwyD6c/s640/4J5A4229-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Heavy enough.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4FqBnVlPpeh6SjLWbp5FaLop_h10mpZQ3hCHcANIXDcGPfvxSObhoS6kOZblG7irBHH4nweyc7IH8F6LLOtS9hiIckyh9xjJXXxcuN8TiJE2-3WBYuEyeSiSe7zJf3pWvMtNdlOs9-reT/s1600/4J5A4224-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4FqBnVlPpeh6SjLWbp5FaLop_h10mpZQ3hCHcANIXDcGPfvxSObhoS6kOZblG7irBHH4nweyc7IH8F6LLOtS9hiIckyh9xjJXXxcuN8TiJE2-3WBYuEyeSiSe7zJf3pWvMtNdlOs9-reT/s640/4J5A4224-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just add more grease and call it good.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp0lMlbcF_Gqa-cjzrLvJv6m5dOrkY1J_IB4qqtqrEIeakW4bclLBTcsmQDl7IAY9ydpEu4CSRp7by8AX5VFvqa-u1L2jyjbIGhsTBiG3IQfD3HYha5x_AOjExPxNGR6McqkRBrLTkn2uQ/s1600/4J5A4226-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp0lMlbcF_Gqa-cjzrLvJv6m5dOrkY1J_IB4qqtqrEIeakW4bclLBTcsmQDl7IAY9ydpEu4CSRp7by8AX5VFvqa-u1L2jyjbIGhsTBiG3IQfD3HYha5x_AOjExPxNGR6McqkRBrLTkn2uQ/s640/4J5A4226-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It wouldn't be an adventure without a broken spoke or two. It's so easy now it's hardly noteworthy.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Logistics</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The OR/CA border is not an easy place to reach. From my house, I use Uber, a plane, a taxi, a shuttle, and my pedals to get to the starting line. Seven days later, I use BART, Amtrak, and a car to get home. Nate’s travel is similarly full of planes, trains and automobiles.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here, and now: lunch.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Weather</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Picture your perfect day on the northern coast. It starts cold with a bit of fog, but rises to t-shirt weather as it burns off by late morning. It’s warm in the afternoon, the skies are clear and the wind is gently at your back. In the evening, it’s cool enough for pants, and at night you are happy and warm in your 30-degree down bag. You wake with the sunrise, dry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Copy-paste that day 6 times and you have the weather from our ride. Perfect. Picture perfect.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea meets sky.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s the usual fare of freeze dried bags of salt and carbs, Clif bars, dried fruit, trail mix, bagels and butter. The best addition to this tour is the abundance of local bakery treats. Cinnamon rolls, blueberry buckle, cheesy pastries, they all taste amazing, and make our backpacker snacks inedible by comparison.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">If you’re in the market for some trail food, avoid anything Kashi. Even when famished, the Kashi oatmeal is cardboard and the trail bars are as delicious as sand, only drier.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">One highlight of the food this year is Nate’s version of backcountry potatoes. We find a market that would sell us a pint of milk and an individual stick of butter. He adds the whole stick to our serving of instant mashed potatoes, despite the recipe calling for only a couple tablespoons. We steal salt and pepper packets from a salad bar in town and use them to make the best camping potatoes you’ve ever seen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Of course we plan our market stops to coincide with camp, so we are able to have cold beer and chips, as usual, each night. This year we add cheese and crackers to our post-ride routine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We sample local beer from breweries in Brookings, the North Coast, Mendocino, and add some Rainier Beer to reminisce about the previous rides we’ve completed.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTyxFuXDnsmftvSnCT5cKcZ7GUjha-XStq_JyLK1hf_siTxMIRVcM_gRy273ahJb-rDYA0O9Gkw6WWH9qRRn6fSpN3iW0HsEt9IKFj5yJTTKgN_kwragF5EpV-HMO0_nRXFA5R8ZZ2lXPJ/s1600/4J5A4147-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTyxFuXDnsmftvSnCT5cKcZ7GUjha-XStq_JyLK1hf_siTxMIRVcM_gRy273ahJb-rDYA0O9Gkw6WWH9qRRn6fSpN3iW0HsEt9IKFj5yJTTKgN_kwragF5EpV-HMO0_nRXFA5R8ZZ2lXPJ/s640/4J5A4147-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Butter, with potatoes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPifDmY_IbaoEfqTgQlSUw5yMtb33jP7An4IBGj35BgmvLJp6aYjP-1Rz6t2pI-jca3yNgUW8Ld6iVQnlF6XYYGHzNHblpIRiCC2MgkiNhVr5RFwQxr0bIAz-3_8VcikLNWmpnUp65xQg/s1600/4J5A4181-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPifDmY_IbaoEfqTgQlSUw5yMtb33jP7An4IBGj35BgmvLJp6aYjP-1Rz6t2pI-jca3yNgUW8Ld6iVQnlF6XYYGHzNHblpIRiCC2MgkiNhVr5RFwQxr0bIAz-3_8VcikLNWmpnUp65xQg/s640/4J5A4181-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tastes even better after a long day.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Camping</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Count the number of friends who’d share a two-man tent with you, for a week. For me, it’s actually not that many. Now, drink a few beers, devour a bag of chips, a block of cheese, add a backpacker just-add-water meal and a variety of other processed foods and wait for your stomach volcano to vent it’s sulphur gases into the tent. Count the number of friends who would share with you now. My number is down to <i>one</i>, but I bet yours is lower. And just to be clear, not even my wife would share that tent with me. As you’ve guessed, Nate is the <i>one</i>, the <i>only</i>. Since he ate from the same menu, we sleep with the rain fly off, to avoid suffocation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Besides the tent, we share just about everything else at camp too. One night, we even share a shower. We don’t shower <i>together</i>, per se, but we take turns because we only have enough quarters for one shower. He takes the first two minutes, then hops out, while I run in to get the last two minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You might wonder why we don't just get more quarters. That’s fair, but each night we <i>do</i> get more quarters, and each successive camp requires <i>more</i> quarters than the night before. Day 1 is 25¢ for a minute. Day 2 is 50¢ for two minutes. Day 3 is <i>four</i> quarters for five minutes. Day 4 is <i>eight</i> quarters for five minutes. We prepare ourselves to skip the shower on Days 5-7 because exponentially increasing quarters become very heavy.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdSN4XJHR2Fbq3FqySoBR1uL4P5DTmrOGnt8kGag9tFMH4uyEiEESUiV5yF5hrrp1OM2jLXNWXUsmAlEPun3Rg1dLh54imIP593RkWpsdNasgaNLDciQlclDRLMqe_FzDkdyTC-8ZRGx1/s1600/4J5A4092-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdSN4XJHR2Fbq3FqySoBR1uL4P5DTmrOGnt8kGag9tFMH4uyEiEESUiV5yF5hrrp1OM2jLXNWXUsmAlEPun3Rg1dLh54imIP593RkWpsdNasgaNLDciQlclDRLMqe_FzDkdyTC-8ZRGx1/s640/4J5A4092-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp in the 'Woods.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The People</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We meet some wonderful cyclists on the route. Some are solo, most are pairs, and all have grand stories to share. Across the board, everyone has more ambitious trips than ours. Some are riding the standard route, from Vancouver to San Diego, a mere 1857 miles, ho-hum. One pair from France had ridden from the Cape, through Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, and Peru, then flew to the States to ride another couple months. Another pair from England rode most of Europe, then Boston to Vancouver, then south to CA, and next they’ll head to Japan and New Zealand and then southeast Asia before pedaling home. Another couple from Switzerland on a recumbent tandem, which I’ve never seen before, is riding from Alaska to Argentina.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">These riders are inspiring and their stories pique our imagination for further and farther adventures.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3R58mbkyZte36g5HfgfYsTFPpLVnKzm9-kfkxxe01I4BHGgkNNdCewQcnbY1_xeAlaih5tn2AHYLYI7-S5p7sew_acyiMQZUw0rPfBcCHHhwczMxJV65Up1dywzX1YFUn8cO9xAkKZ1E/s1600/4J5A4196-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3R58mbkyZte36g5HfgfYsTFPpLVnKzm9-kfkxxe01I4BHGgkNNdCewQcnbY1_xeAlaih5tn2AHYLYI7-S5p7sew_acyiMQZUw0rPfBcCHHhwczMxJV65Up1dywzX1YFUn8cO9xAkKZ1E/s640/4J5A4196-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">End of the day.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Riding</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s a challenge to put 465 miles into a sentence. It’s accurate to use the words long, hilly, beautiful, and amazing, but it’s insufficient. I should add the words pain, fatigue, and endless, but also exhilarating, breathtaking, and saddle sore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s too easy to say <i>you had to be there</i>, so I’ll highlight the most memorable miles.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjau_984TRT6xkwWh1NlBIuZKtHWM43n88Yh02cv0fvHnw_9KNcyMSHbxDRTxzser3uLvBfDUJNkzofZr4F3tIIVHao1eInzIwHRggozYxWqpTAniuAX9mhFIPXttmNbyzeTuiSV-lTIY/s1600/4J5A4045-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjau_984TRT6xkwWh1NlBIuZKtHWM43n88Yh02cv0fvHnw_9KNcyMSHbxDRTxzser3uLvBfDUJNkzofZr4F3tIIVHao1eInzIwHRggozYxWqpTAniuAX9mhFIPXttmNbyzeTuiSV-lTIY/s640/4J5A4045-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Navigating the hazards of road construction.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjy1FmqklSFrHlfMNuPk57X-Ujd-XS1HzHsqRuPvDWpdPC972z5P_t7Wm-uPBhHeSrGwmBn8uUuVA2eXzMZv3FHfH9IkJmaW2z3s9868lAQZuUSz9lTWcwdCQviphZU8zQFYiIw5ZlLL1G/s1600/4J5A4058-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjy1FmqklSFrHlfMNuPk57X-Ujd-XS1HzHsqRuPvDWpdPC972z5P_t7Wm-uPBhHeSrGwmBn8uUuVA2eXzMZv3FHfH9IkJmaW2z3s9868lAQZuUSz9lTWcwdCQviphZU8zQFYiIw5ZlLL1G/s640/4J5A4058-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at a 2000 year old tree takes perspective, in more ways than one.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">On Day 2, we ride nearly 90 miles, finishing on the aptly named Avenue of the Giants in the Redwoods National Park. Simply exiting the highway and dropping into the shade of the Avenue is a special moment. The trees envelop me instantly. It’s a different world: cool, dark, quiet, and calm. The trunks grow inches from the gently winding road. I could touch them if I wanted, and I do. I stop for a snack amongst a few fallen logs, but the mosquitoes drive me back to the bike, where I find the experience to be better anyway. Removing my helmet, glasses, and gloves, I glide down the Avenue, just me and the trees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Camp arrives too soon and we realize we missed our chance at cold drinks. We ditch the gear and ride 4 more miles to the next market, to grab a few beers before closing. We drink the beer, and guzzle the satisfaction of how far we’ve come. Literally, we’ve come 170 miles in two days, but figuratively we’ve come further. We’ve reached the point in our cycle touring that even after an 89 mile day, six and a half hours of pedaling, we still find it worthwhile to pop on down the road 30 minutes for a cold drink. And chips.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHZ_fTxpPRl8nSkGNzRCvI4oirxdjND3BGzrSUYEw8Jgy048vV1sZNUCoSdIszafTV8yuWA6HqYUqSkiFZ68oXghixr-SbiVs3EfYGEsXl7gCfzJvANzlDUT6W4Zu-K-fR3nSyC3NsYj_/s1600/4J5A4103-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHZ_fTxpPRl8nSkGNzRCvI4oirxdjND3BGzrSUYEw8Jgy048vV1sZNUCoSdIszafTV8yuWA6HqYUqSkiFZ68oXghixr-SbiVs3EfYGEsXl7gCfzJvANzlDUT6W4Zu-K-fR3nSyC3NsYj_/s640/4J5A4103-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Avenue.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The middle Days, 3-5, blend together in the <i>metronomy</i> of rolling hills. The pedals turn and turn, a geared metronome. Each small hill repeats the previous one’s monotony. Pedal hard up a hill, ease the effort over the crest, and glide down the other side. Find a rhythm and hold it for hours, then days.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I start doing math, because, well, why not? Let’s see here, we’re doing about 50 miles today, and we gained about 5000’ in total climbing. That’s about the same as my last Type II ride where I pedaled 40mi and gained 5000’. But then I realize on this day our net elevation gain is actually zero, because we start at the coast and end at the coast. So, for every mile of climbing, there’s about a mile of descending, which means we climbed 5000’ in only about 25 miles of uphill. That’s 4% grade, average. Most riders consider a 4% hill pretty stout, even if it’s only a mile or two. Try it for 25 miles, with a bike that weighs <i>enough</i> and the only way to get through it is to tune the metronome and embrace the monotony.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The last tip is to never pedal downhill if gravity will do the work for you. Whenever possible, sit back and coast the Coast.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQddr5qIm1Tu9eP4mciZYfCWOx36XKxamhDm1i5tcFlbDU4wnKw6dHRyyUG8GoFod1VSXgykxZW_y9ecOPCQeOH2n3UPnoqBOVuz6HCJJqhFGltHth9E4yvBI8whkvaZn0XaH8xJGylLX/s1600/4J5A4248-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQddr5qIm1Tu9eP4mciZYfCWOx36XKxamhDm1i5tcFlbDU4wnKw6dHRyyUG8GoFod1VSXgykxZW_y9ecOPCQeOH2n3UPnoqBOVuz6HCJJqhFGltHth9E4yvBI8whkvaZn0XaH8xJGylLX/s640/4J5A4248-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left, right, up, down, but never flat nor straight.</td></tr>
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Day 6 stands alone as my favorite day of touring, ever. We eat the last of our breakfast, except for the Kashi birdfood, and pedal into the morning light. Usually me knees complain for the first hour of the day, until they remember that I don’t care what they have to say. Today, though, they only whine on the first pitch and remain silent the rest of the day. The rolling hills and steep cliffs resemble Big Sur from the past, but I’m stronger and tougher and now relish the metronomy. Light traffic, smooth roads, wispy fog, and a tail wind. The riding is as good as it gets. But then, it gets better. Nearing the summit of the day’s route, we break through the fog and the road gleams ahead of us. It’s a downhill from the Alps, winding banking turning switchbacks with the sun at our back and the ocean in front. We swing down the grade, braking around blind corners but otherwise simply leaning in and holding on, gravity’s passengers. On a straightaway, the urge to fly is irresistible. I release the bars, straighten my back and my arms become wings. 30mph and the only thing wider than my wings is my smile.<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The rest of the day is the beautiful tone we know so well. Up down up down up down….</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We can’t find a restaurant for our last night, which is one of our touring traditions, so we buy canned food instead, knowing darn well we have no can opener and not enough fuel to cook it. We do it anyway. We scavenge an opener and get to work. Pinto beans, corn, avocado, tortillas, tomatoes. The stove burns for three minutes before it putters out. We slap together our medium-warm burritos and it’s the best dinner of the week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">While eating we enjoy the company of two French cyclists. They passed us earlier in the day, on a bus, skipping the first few hours of the day’s riding. One mentions seeing a rider flying through the descent, arms wide as wings. The non-cyclists on the bus were panicked, but the French invented wing suits. Their envy is palpable. I’ve rarely been so proud of myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We collect a heap of quarters and prepare ourselves for an $8 shower, since it’s now 2</span><span style="line-height: normal;"><sup>5</sup></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> quarters per shower. I step in and test the knob. Hot water. Zero quarters.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><a href="http://livingthebestdayever.com/" target="_blank">Best Day Ever</a>.</i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVr_dT-qo7VvYNvv7VgzZkOLj5FVu0mKrjzi9OrQhyphenhyphen1sEz0PxsNqZvC2ChAlNf67fMeZkMh7clRY5LveWI3Sd7K7qlW0iaB3RXfLyABpCadlPz7hx7forzOOVl6p4D5kzuAmb87Chj_58U/s1600/4J5A4243-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVr_dT-qo7VvYNvv7VgzZkOLj5FVu0mKrjzi9OrQhyphenhyphen1sEz0PxsNqZvC2ChAlNf67fMeZkMh7clRY5LveWI3Sd7K7qlW0iaB3RXfLyABpCadlPz7hx7forzOOVl6p4D5kzuAmb87Chj_58U/s640/4J5A4243-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding the fog B.D.E.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdojF1d2UFIqhBYlIpwlPHwQDrMXI2FrKlleygBIB14wncaqHGEi0bTF5y5D8pHyYnhF-vKopiqFybAEZs4a7LW9-PYc32J1SeicJ6WSP775ZXnQOtQOcLCTC5mSjpiAB36zNALfZN7inM/s1600/4J5A4218-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdojF1d2UFIqhBYlIpwlPHwQDrMXI2FrKlleygBIB14wncaqHGEi0bTF5y5D8pHyYnhF-vKopiqFybAEZs4a7LW9-PYc32J1SeicJ6WSP775ZXnQOtQOcLCTC5mSjpiAB36zNALfZN7inM/s640/4J5A4218-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coastal cliffs B.D.E.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNi3UrbTc_rdSEA2yeppicIoco3VFhOc2vqwKKbl2CNoMa_GyaUhhM2-fb7r7JSGv0Ra0LnsFAcY0BTWDcF_C7IWXEn7MZifSVc0KVA9_tct6Hx-qVzowv1SK8v1vY7c-l7M26UkL89lJn/s1600/4J5A4236-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNi3UrbTc_rdSEA2yeppicIoco3VFhOc2vqwKKbl2CNoMa_GyaUhhM2-fb7r7JSGv0Ra0LnsFAcY0BTWDcF_C7IWXEn7MZifSVc0KVA9_tct6Hx-qVzowv1SK8v1vY7c-l7M26UkL89lJn/s640/4J5A4236-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another B.D.E sunset.</td></tr>
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<b>The Numbers</b></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I’m obsessed with numbers, and planning. Nate is somewhat the opposite. He lets me do the planning, he doesn’t have a bike computer, he doesn’t know how fast we’re riding or how far we’ve gone, he doesn’t know any more about the route than the signs on the side of the road. Only at the end of the day does he ask, ‘How far’d we go today?’ It’s a refreshing attitude, to just show up and be ready for whatever happens. I’d like to incorporate more of that into my own life, but right now I have a spreadsheet of times and distances to share. So first, the stats!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Garmin GPS computer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Day 1: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/709194095" target="_blank">85 miles</a>, 6:33, 12.9 mph ave, 4,700’ elevation gain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Day 2: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/710266407" target="_blank">88 miles</a>, 6:37, 13.4 ave, 3700’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Day 3: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/711341295" target="_blank">48 miles</a>, 3:47, 12.6 ave, 3100’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Day 4: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/712689184" target="_blank">62 miles</a>, 4:50, 12.8 ave, 4500’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Day 5: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/714684996" target="_blank">72 miles</a>, 5:17, 13.6 ave, 5100’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Day 6: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/714683076" target="_blank">66 miles</a>, 4:51, 13.5 ave, 4900’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Day 7: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/715719294" target="_blank">33 miles</a>, 2:46, 12.1 ave, 1500’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The precision is untrustworthy, and my other GPS app has slightly different numbers, so I round to the following totals:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">465 miles, 35 hours, 13 mph average, 30,000’ elevation gain.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNswLpaeflkhxJsGKOfDy-y5xYMMzLyw2GDPc2V3yqyFOhnplDMUXFOf2nCzeDSYcTKLqFoczfrggxmCCs6oOe2Tu_F9dKei1H2Cuub6HeYWkDorZBSd07n2fvXofj1AjWzlZ1KwtBB_l/s1600/IMG_20160914_184516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNswLpaeflkhxJsGKOfDy-y5xYMMzLyw2GDPc2V3yqyFOhnplDMUXFOf2nCzeDSYcTKLqFoczfrggxmCCs6oOe2Tu_F9dKei1H2Cuub6HeYWkDorZBSd07n2fvXofj1AjWzlZ1KwtBB_l/s400/IMG_20160914_184516.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best Day Ever.</td></tr>
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Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-92099471842541772502015-08-28T07:28:00.001-07:002015-08-28T07:48:22.228-07:00August 2015: Cycling the Washington Coast Last year's <a href="http://jkoonsphoto.blogspot.com/2014/04/cycling-san-francisco-to-santa-barbara.html" target="_blank">CA Coast ride</a> taught us a few things. First, 100 miles per day, with major elevation gains, is too strenuous. 70 is a more reasonable distance. Additionally, our fitness is insufficient for such long days. We need to train for our touring. Lastly, our bikes are not well suited for heavy touring. A stronger steel-frame bike is better.<br />
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Considering these points, we plan to ride 350 miles from the USA-Canada border to Astoria, Oregon, along the Washington Coast, in five days. We'll average 70, with a couple longer days, and one short one to finish.<br />
I've never been one to train for adventures. I simply let each adventure keep me in shape for the next. This year, it's different. I begin riding in January, starting at just 15 miles, mix in some 30 minute runs, and slowly work toward a riding fitness level I've never before reached. By May I'm riding 250 miles per month. In July, I push it further, and farther. I ride a 40 one week, then a 60, then a 40 in Tahoe (6000'+ elevation), then in early August, I add a 75 in the mountains, then 70 around Lake Tahoe.<br />
After 1300 miles on the bike, another 150 running, and stretching every day, I finally feel ready for a tour.<br />
Remembering the struggle of a beaten down bicycle, broken spokes and bad pumps, I update my gear. I start with a new touring bike, and add a few tools to the bag. It's a heavy set-up, but strong, stable, and sturdy.<br />
Let's ride!<br />
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<b>Day 0</b>: the night before.<br />
In contrast to me, Nate hasn't been training, and hasn't even repaired his bike from last year's breakdowns. We find his wheel is still bent and missing a spoke. It's too late to have it repaired, so we'll ride until we find a shop.<br />
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<b>Day 1</b>: Bellingham, WA, 7:00am.<br />
We load the car and then notice a flat tire. The irony can't deflate us.<br />
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Blaine, 9:00am.<br />
We straddle the border before we head south.<br />
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Bellingham, 11:30am.<br />
We find a bike shop to repair Nate's wheel while we treat ourselves to a celebratory lunch. If we're going to break down, might as well stop at the brewery for cold beer and hot food. Soon enough, it's time to ride.<br />
Mounting my camera on the bike, and using a remote trigger, I capture photos while we ride.<br />
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Deception Pass, 5:00pm.<br />
We cross the Deception Pass bridge, and just outside the State Park, we find a market with beer and ice cream.<br />
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At camp, we spread our food pile and eat a delicious freeze-dried dinner (just add boiling water!), supplemented by peanut butter and nutella, of course.<br />
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Beer in bottle-cage, we ride the short distance to the beach where we catch up on the events of the past year, and enjoy a Pacific sunset.<br />
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<b>Day 2</b>: Deception Pass, 9am.<br />
With only 70 miles to ride, there's no need for a pre-dawn start. We hit the road at our leisure.<br />
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Soon enough, however, we hear a sound we all now recognize: <i>Crack-ping-ping-ping-ping...</i> Without looking, I know Nate has lost another spoke. I pull over and wait for him to walk his bike to the grass.<br />
Using our new tools, we disassemble the wheel, replace the spoke, pump the tube and true the wheel. We're getting good at this.<br />
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Checking the clock, we hustle the last few miles to Coupville, where a ferry will take us across the sound to Port Townsend. We're the last to load the ship, just in time, and we eat while we can: peanut butter bagels, jerky, dried fruit, trail mix. It all pairs perfectly when we're hungry.<br />
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Port Townsend, 12:30pm.<br />
I tell Nate that we need to stop in a bike shop, get our tires to full pressure, buy more spokes, and see about perhaps replacing his rear wheel with a stronger one. We locate <a href="http://www.ptcyclery.com/index.htm" target="_blank">PT Cyclery</a>, and owner Bob Chung acutely describes our situation. In regard to Nate's broken wheel, he says we're "using bandaids when we should be performing surgery."<br />
Lucky for us, Nate is now a surgeon. The unintentional joke is perfect. We laugh together, tell stories, share experiences, and somehow we convince Nate to buy a new wheel (against his wishes). Our mutual interests in cycling create an easy camaraderie, and after many stories, Nate's wheel is ready to roll.<br />
He doesn't seem too happy about the forced purchase, but I am smiling ear to ear.<br />
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After 20 miles on the new wheel, we stop for snacks, and he's much happier.<br />
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Dosewallips State Park, 5:30pm.<br />
Throughout the trip, Nate and I discuss future adventures. Mountaineering and cycling are tops on the recent list, and Mt. Rainier has our full attention. It's only fitting that we stop near camp to buy Rainier Beer, and chips. Definitely chips.<br />
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We claim a beautiful site under the trees, split a few thousand calories of chips and beer by the river, and then eat a full dinner.<br />
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<b>Day 3</b>: Dosewallips, 9:00am.<br />
Typical of the northwest, the morning is foggy and damp. It's not raining, but the roads are slick, and cars kick a cold mist into our faces. We're still having fun, enjoying these easy miles along the Hood Canal.<br />
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We stop in Hoodsport for first lunch, where a stranger gives us sandwiches. We eat bagels and peanut butter (again), fruit, avocado, jerky, a donut too!, and our mouths still water at the sight of deli sandwiches: chicken salad for Nate, and pastrami on rye for me.<br />
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After lunch, we depart south again on Highway 101. It's the same road we've traveled in Oregon and California, but only now on day three does the traffic in WA start to resemble that of the previous rides. Trucks pass closely, cars whiz past, but the shoulder is still wide, so we don't worry.<br />
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We veer onto back roads after an hour, to avoid traffic. It's bumpy, but empty. We stop for snacks in the shade, then push 20 miles into a headwind.<br />
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Elma, 3:30pm.<br />
The visitor center is a welcome sight, or maybe a welcome site. The shaded picnic table is just what we need, because it's time to eat again.<br />
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Lake Sylvia State Park, 5:30pm.<br />
Our schedule is easier this year. We finish riding in time to buy chips and beer, enjoy them among the trees, then prepare another full dinner, and get to bed before 10.<br />
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<b>Day 4</b>: Lake Sylvia, 9:00am.<br />
It's cold when we leave the lake, but it warms when we see the sunshine in Aberdeen. Snack time is only mildly diminished by the smell of .... um, let's just say the old concrete structures make a nice place to...uh, ... well, I'm grateful to have toilet access on these bike tours. It's apparent that not everybody has access.<br />
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Bay City, 11:00am.<br />
I've never eaten oysters. I like clams, calamari, and other seafood, but the prospect of sucking the slime out of a shell, raw, just isn't my preference. Nate disagrees, and we stop at a shack to buy a half-dozen shots of cold goop.<br />
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He insists they're great.<br />
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I'm skeptical, but I'll try it. I vow to eat two.<br />
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What a mouthful. It's cold, salty, but with hot sauce, and damn, it's a huge mouthful. Wow.<br />
Nate tells me it's two oysters per shot, and they're large, so slow down and eat 'em one at a time.<br />
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I finish my 4 (two cups of two, I guess), and leave the remaining 8 to Nate.<br />
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I imagine an ice cream bar would taste better.<br />
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<br />
Yes, much better. We need to find ice cream, soon.<br />
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Tokeland, 2:00pm.<br />
We stop in the shade for another snack, since we haven't eaten in at least an hour, and find a patch of blackberries. We forage for a while, then continue on our way.<br />
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Raymond, 3:00om.<br />
We stop for water, and finally find ice cream bars to satisfy my craving.<br />
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Bush Pioneer County Park, 6:00pm.<br />
We arrive at camp, shower, and celebrate our last night of the tour by going out on the town. We always eat out the last night, and tonight's choice is easy. There's only one restaurant in Bay Center: the Dock of the Bay.<br />
We say we're looking for fish 'n' chips and beer. The bartender replies, "we have all three of those."<br />
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There's still a bit of light, so we rig the slack line. Nate is chipper, energetic and coordinated.<br />
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After 85 miles, a huge dinner, and a couple beers, my slack line skills are lacking.<br />
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We meet another group of cyclists, heading down the coast to the Bay. The three are touring for a few weeks before school starts. They're young and fit, and with a tandem bike, they ride fast.<br />
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<b>Day 5</b>: Bush Pioneer, 8:00am.<br />
We depart before the tandem, but they catch us within an hour. They're beyond fast. They haul ass. They fly past us, and we drop into their slipstream. We chase for a half hour, before pulling off for a snack. We're ahead of schedule, riding down wind, and if we stayed on their tail, we'd be to Oregon 3 hours before our support vehicle arrives.<br />
We take the last 20 miles at an easy pace, stopping for early lunch and to enjoy the scenery of the Columbia River. We see the Astoria bridge stretching in the distance. It's over 4 miles across, and it marks the last miles of our 2015 trip.<br />
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The bridge is the crux, with no shoulder, a steep hill, heavy traffic, strong winds, and distracting views, but we pass the <i>Entering Oregon</i> sign and descend to town, where we park the bikes and remove our cleats one last time.<br />
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We celebrate our success at another brewery, with more beer, more fish, and more chips.<br />
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<b>Epilogue</b>.<br />
Our 70 mile pace was just right. We were tired each day, with sore bums and stiff legs, but we weren't as completely drained as last year.<br />
My fitness level made the riding easier too. I still had mild knee pain on the steep ascents, but nothing like the Big Sur hills in 2014. It was a hard ride, but my legs have recovered in only a couple days. Last year, it took quite a while before I wanted to even look at my bicycle.<br />
After replacing Nate's wheel on Day 2, we had no further mechanical problems. It's amazing what proper equipment can do. There was a bit of noise in my crank, and a rather annoying squeak in Nate's drive train. It reminded me of a flock of parakeets, trapped inside a beach ball: a high pitched sing-song of confused and upset birds. Next year, I'll bring some chain lube, as Nate probably won't fix it before the next tour.<br />
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Route Maps<br />
<a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1129727613" target="_blank">Day 1: 70 miles</a>, 5:18, 13.3 mph average, 3500' elevation gain.<br />
<a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1130374193" target="_blank">Day 2: 70 miles</a>, 5:01, 14.0 ave, 4500' gain.<br />
<a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1131782519" target="_blank">Day 3: 78 miles</a>, 5:59, 13.0 ave, 4600' gain.<br />
<a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1133260721" target="_blank">Day 4: 86 miles</a>, 6:13, 13.8 ave, 3600' gain.<br />
<a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1134370889" target="_blank">Day 5: 44 miles</a>, 2:56, 14.9 ave, 2300' gain.<br />
Total: 348 miles, 25:25, 13.7 ave, 18,500' gain.<br />
<br />Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-17039069762106636682014-08-28T14:44:00.001-07:002014-08-29T00:28:36.813-07:00July 2014: Grand Canyon<div style="text-align: center;">
In contrast to my recent verbose posts, (see: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Too_long;_didn't_read" target="_blank">TL;DR</a>), below is mostly imagery from my July Grand Canyon rafting trip.</div>
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I spent many days on the oar boats.</div>
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I joined the paddle boat a few times, mostly for the bigger rapids.</div>
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We hiked often and enjoyed lunch on the beach.</div>
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When the Little Colorado River met the (BIG) Colorado River, everything turned brown.</div>
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The roster changed halfway through the trip, as many guests hiked in or out. The paddle team was all new, but the rapids were much the same. ... <i>Here it goes again.</i></div>
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The biggest rapid of the trip, Lava Falls, was very exciting. The audio is interesting.<br />
Thanks to Chris for the alternate camera angle.</div>
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It all happened so fast... Here's a frame-by-frame view of the near-flip. (Click to enlarge.)</div>
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The GoPro is pretty fun in the whitewater, but I prefer photos. Of 1700 images, below are some of my favorites.</div>
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My dad at the oars, fulfilling a bucket-list dream of rowing the grand canyon with Morgan.</div>
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Suzie, rowing a gear boat.</div>
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Rock formations at camp.</div>
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Black Tail Canyon, my favorite place on the river.</div>
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Jennifer, our paddle captain, spending a day on the oars instead.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_xTr5gRUeEdflYbZb1vwfxtU-Rk2co8q_Tb9mrz5xUETeqTDMykYNqJM1DeLbdnmT9cqU9tbPsaYUVEbtB_hIkDXryMSiqeHjJFdo1K4KyY-R_DFEN82G9lRrSBt3GMDLD3qTF5QvzRy/s1600/990X2945-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_xTr5gRUeEdflYbZb1vwfxtU-Rk2co8q_Tb9mrz5xUETeqTDMykYNqJM1DeLbdnmT9cqU9tbPsaYUVEbtB_hIkDXryMSiqeHjJFdo1K4KyY-R_DFEN82G9lRrSBt3GMDLD3qTF5QvzRy/s1600/990X2945-web.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Even a wide angle lens doesn't capture the full view.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh63mRJROfVjKighu-pBv9sbRbETa_pwBozJ9OBYET1KeAE77kaGm_6zd5ihwe5a5EczPL5Wz7zBeP1eEvg08M8I9sFMMtbL6l1wHC-oG7iCkl60DRA1vTHkdbgGAmyvWMBODsTTCXrvTXj/s1600/990X2981-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh63mRJROfVjKighu-pBv9sbRbETa_pwBozJ9OBYET1KeAE77kaGm_6zd5ihwe5a5EczPL5Wz7zBeP1eEvg08M8I9sFMMtbL6l1wHC-oG7iCkl60DRA1vTHkdbgGAmyvWMBODsTTCXrvTXj/s1600/990X2981-web.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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Keeping everybody happy with a splash.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdVJxsWQTODZ3mEPo7Js38t4FeXT5EOvGMopolRsCtEY_tzWDZezHkx6SFy4thX0BolZAzfvMUeP5DC_ayVUbbif7UBkptzbNT34msRRs1VyLkAD2OGJXJPL0BzKR-oXwT99MYw2DbHJ7/s1600/990X2984-Edit-2-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdVJxsWQTODZ3mEPo7Js38t4FeXT5EOvGMopolRsCtEY_tzWDZezHkx6SFy4thX0BolZAzfvMUeP5DC_ayVUbbif7UBkptzbNT34msRRs1VyLkAD2OGJXJPL0BzKR-oXwT99MYw2DbHJ7/s1600/990X2984-Edit-2-web.jpg" height="380" width="640" /></a></div>
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Chris and Coleman resting in the shade.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9U9RTM3KrLh-5vs4v3-EgPZDujnci8xGf7A5isdOFW9JQxlklMUTv4weQqvcHC5UhLtLHYHXTXJToN3GLkTOc6GmaygqgWe8R8zD8RCBDaPPzBLCKpslq-ZzUdw89wSItyu3CQQIIcaYK/s1600/990X3065-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9U9RTM3KrLh-5vs4v3-EgPZDujnci8xGf7A5isdOFW9JQxlklMUTv4weQqvcHC5UhLtLHYHXTXJToN3GLkTOc6GmaygqgWe8R8zD8RCBDaPPzBLCKpslq-ZzUdw89wSItyu3CQQIIcaYK/s1600/990X3065-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Enjoying a hike with my dad and sister.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhxiZm-gzqcKeSdJBVFTL_FzzvLtHKbvyNXpWLiS1inww4v55d3g4D-o49HM2KihAjsXwJ6P51BT4ZjdR0CBcOgWlWWEaIUqgtEfsUhV-mztYz4D8VD9sms18SnGnxk6ilmiItja_9DgI/s1600/990X3378-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhxiZm-gzqcKeSdJBVFTL_FzzvLtHKbvyNXpWLiS1inww4v55d3g4D-o49HM2KihAjsXwJ6P51BT4ZjdR0CBcOgWlWWEaIUqgtEfsUhV-mztYz4D8VD9sms18SnGnxk6ilmiItja_9DgI/s1600/990X3378-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Morgan, confident, skilled, and stoic.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBO34EJGbtq_3D7bIfkvio29sildpZMtIBVC4GHEWOOdkTWgNzRAnKjXjKUSZyq3CK6WQiBqA0zhkXLFRvJOleJuJrmLNHwWSDT-tQvFW8K9P-qC03OSQVFmesDDjh0UyzGmoC_7uPpFc/s1600/990X3473-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBO34EJGbtq_3D7bIfkvio29sildpZMtIBVC4GHEWOOdkTWgNzRAnKjXjKUSZyq3CK6WQiBqA0zhkXLFRvJOleJuJrmLNHwWSDT-tQvFW8K9P-qC03OSQVFmesDDjh0UyzGmoC_7uPpFc/s1600/990X3473-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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My camera got wet and malfunctioned for an hour after this, but it dried eventually. It was worth it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlDpZV8CFQjYRRudidsAvvsyYB0kuyc0CrYz4ktuEl2WNeayHl___QdE3Ez79q_TlPKfrkhfhyphenhypheniPCEIY6kdG2EOdiEdJ7HApjz1bxjjQ2YTjmgxsSQO6ftMWwy-IldXzEstP6GzCegq9j/s1600/990X3675-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlDpZV8CFQjYRRudidsAvvsyYB0kuyc0CrYz4ktuEl2WNeayHl___QdE3Ez79q_TlPKfrkhfhyphenhypheniPCEIY6kdG2EOdiEdJ7HApjz1bxjjQ2YTjmgxsSQO6ftMWwy-IldXzEstP6GzCegq9j/s1600/990X3675-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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You'd never believe the story-book ending: lightning (not pictured), double rainbows, and cold beer at the last camp. What a finish!</div>
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Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-47159073231262077632014-08-05T11:30:00.001-07:002014-08-05T11:30:56.967-07:002011 Grand CanyonAs I currently edit images from a 2014 Grand Canyon rafting trip, I recall that I never posted any of the 2011 images.<br />
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Here are some favorites from 3 years ago.<br />
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Dories at lunch.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9PppPG-Vm752vlamTqQyTThkSGzrKu2lcC4NSa9o3HnzfgwBjv6aOy9-VBk-8YpR9H_rgqnPVBF5K69Is6WqbLe6hZ4OcGmg6YAoLcQhj7fV-1DlsZvsleMJwNeh1L6KBnPuDqv7Pyf1/s1600/989X3445-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9PppPG-Vm752vlamTqQyTThkSGzrKu2lcC4NSa9o3HnzfgwBjv6aOy9-VBk-8YpR9H_rgqnPVBF5K69Is6WqbLe6hZ4OcGmg6YAoLcQhj7fV-1DlsZvsleMJwNeh1L6KBnPuDqv7Pyf1/s1600/989X3445-web.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
Red Wall Cavern.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1lEHg5QZ4Htwe1XS75vMxuElwBIqIycx6X16Plm3IzpsTjQBLLKdZVAcO7nuz0TSjnHDZmo5ru98CYvUX0_X2DgRcI8CWzEg3lmSwAiHWhp941GEUYS3FyAl6EhzPAcLo-bMr1vCIz5R/s1600/989X2615-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1lEHg5QZ4Htwe1XS75vMxuElwBIqIycx6X16Plm3IzpsTjQBLLKdZVAcO7nuz0TSjnHDZmo5ru98CYvUX0_X2DgRcI8CWzEg3lmSwAiHWhp941GEUYS3FyAl6EhzPAcLo-bMr1vCIz5R/s1600/989X2615-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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GC Pink Rattlesnake.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8J8A-jf47acIh4JwI7bkOGFBcHuCbc7I8a5JfbdWX2Udqg-i74RdpUL67y9QNfs8wXh6TwgmQUmBGxsdI4TvBsMwWK7Et5spQ07OsmgSkOdk47aut3ukQwbnREJaOnp27adbMlldfAHdm/s1600/IMG_2851-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8J8A-jf47acIh4JwI7bkOGFBcHuCbc7I8a5JfbdWX2Udqg-i74RdpUL67y9QNfs8wXh6TwgmQUmBGxsdI4TvBsMwWK7Et5spQ07OsmgSkOdk47aut3ukQwbnREJaOnp27adbMlldfAHdm/s1600/IMG_2851-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
Dinner.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxEsdp-Yo6AfufCBP12SMj48kqNYtFgtjpuR66yKk6-FXdssiUnFsFH1Oqd-nObQdQN-qnfRxDv9f1kq92o0gOLKLu2gOkugwnR0J3beuS2mtI_YwD-P8YFSwma6ctj3dg9YIvuJVfbC8/s1600/989X3310-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxEsdp-Yo6AfufCBP12SMj48kqNYtFgtjpuR66yKk6-FXdssiUnFsFH1Oqd-nObQdQN-qnfRxDv9f1kq92o0gOLKLu2gOkugwnR0J3beuS2mtI_YwD-P8YFSwma6ctj3dg9YIvuJVfbC8/s1600/989X3310-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKFaaYF7xFUfXgXANy0aVY4Xb-X7M-8PnL_5pEQ047iPbDFtpHx9ITaF6v6NS3luvHKTDEijJ3T2fBvCXq2p00AleOCjlEqBZKxZhpK-EEJcCo-d-zXWSQ2rokJr3SONoNv6fgxbF09eB/s1600/989X3332-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKFaaYF7xFUfXgXANy0aVY4Xb-X7M-8PnL_5pEQ047iPbDFtpHx9ITaF6v6NS3luvHKTDEijJ3T2fBvCXq2p00AleOCjlEqBZKxZhpK-EEJcCo-d-zXWSQ2rokJr3SONoNv6fgxbF09eB/s1600/989X3332-web.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyphrcNWbzqquAu6Wvk-DTx-qRb6sap83rorSAA9ND6924d0Zxz5gu9UaFHhrvJiBq7iyhFEervXuqpyIkQn-2cIGi19lL29ANtSCN54vnUcb92KP3RfEmRrCmTxXhlBY4oXvaIw_j3cg/s1600/989X3323-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyphrcNWbzqquAu6Wvk-DTx-qRb6sap83rorSAA9ND6924d0Zxz5gu9UaFHhrvJiBq7iyhFEervXuqpyIkQn-2cIGi19lL29ANtSCN54vnUcb92KP3RfEmRrCmTxXhlBY4oXvaIw_j3cg/s1600/989X3323-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
Rapids.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmE8Lv1t8HyrDdP0hBwLX4_2qhfSdOJ2kIxphUdPuch7dxPjwN4-DZmHQitUkO4pPHUSNAsP_J7WTKAfgEUNj4AbMxxpFzMXz0QArpuGgZyepYV-Jp2bC21hAxE0grArZOf5w_j3F8jpPW/s1600/989X4290-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmE8Lv1t8HyrDdP0hBwLX4_2qhfSdOJ2kIxphUdPuch7dxPjwN4-DZmHQitUkO4pPHUSNAsP_J7WTKAfgEUNj4AbMxxpFzMXz0QArpuGgZyepYV-Jp2bC21hAxE0grArZOf5w_j3F8jpPW/s1600/989X4290-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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And flats.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkufpQy_qeJxXMjsicFyZhN8HY49Oz5tX37SXDAsMYLmXc57427unyv7nveu_jImS5Jijax3wVB_hYa2Sw9_KFK60oDLeQdxer1PajhaUpWQ6t26iJ4W5CvQTsJtmQ3Yh-k8hfrxBMWyiB/s1600/IMG_2088-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkufpQy_qeJxXMjsicFyZhN8HY49Oz5tX37SXDAsMYLmXc57427unyv7nveu_jImS5Jijax3wVB_hYa2Sw9_KFK60oDLeQdxer1PajhaUpWQ6t26iJ4W5CvQTsJtmQ3Yh-k8hfrxBMWyiB/s1600/IMG_2088-web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
Blacktail Canyon.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQQGWehBb2Uh7guskRcYNU6ego31uerd4_ULV0KNlmiDFNbF6EiWDnYSdFPXJ3kfkveT92qm4Yw-wzcppemy66ZIAbSiIDwFRAUeEYIB5UnXZTUF3JhSUcys9auKYDXfujuWisu660hOy/s1600/989X3995-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQQGWehBb2Uh7guskRcYNU6ego31uerd4_ULV0KNlmiDFNbF6EiWDnYSdFPXJ3kfkveT92qm4Yw-wzcppemy66ZIAbSiIDwFRAUeEYIB5UnXZTUF3JhSUcys9auKYDXfujuWisu660hOy/s1600/989X3995-web.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
Don't forget to look up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib49JktcxfsLzrzNgRNKxPpRMxsqt8IuXurUAJZ8cnAVPEudoymL1Xxp1cN0dbL9BHpGUbh2L2lIT5xkYb8eR2x_rLCGpdNciEz4O_cxHv_MoZWP1zyOOiCLqLf5GRHlSPZaKr-AQeV62r/s1600/989X4063-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib49JktcxfsLzrzNgRNKxPpRMxsqt8IuXurUAJZ8cnAVPEudoymL1Xxp1cN0dbL9BHpGUbh2L2lIT5xkYb8eR2x_rLCGpdNciEz4O_cxHv_MoZWP1zyOOiCLqLf5GRHlSPZaKr-AQeV62r/s1600/989X4063-web.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
Havasu Canyon.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwskKFKPkxlwJEERPXj6t5mbndHrk_boxO2-v4AD_kuiSqTew5M5ZQxnEGY_Xy5GWBNeZwJsG2DOPvnOPaGoUTsudQIaky63JQ9s_5zxH_j7PjzOix-K9oFGso2dpIr2XJB03mgZ40ap9G/s1600/989X4987-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwskKFKPkxlwJEERPXj6t5mbndHrk_boxO2-v4AD_kuiSqTew5M5ZQxnEGY_Xy5GWBNeZwJsG2DOPvnOPaGoUTsudQIaky63JQ9s_5zxH_j7PjzOix-K9oFGso2dpIr2XJB03mgZ40ap9G/s1600/989X4987-web.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mzb-xpJYE9lGMLJpjY9OrPLMHmWMUol6-hy00CKHmwSSkOquRN-vjHokxkep2fT6v6qBHXzmbMJdmWuKxJs7Kz2l949OcSSTYfvTKRrm8-6XXPSapEqQasQFO17uOPevSJ1fpB3OFnlK/s1600/IMG_2938-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mzb-xpJYE9lGMLJpjY9OrPLMHmWMUol6-hy00CKHmwSSkOquRN-vjHokxkep2fT6v6qBHXzmbMJdmWuKxJs7Kz2l949OcSSTYfvTKRrm8-6XXPSapEqQasQFO17uOPevSJ1fpB3OFnlK/s1600/IMG_2938-web.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
And of course, whitewater.<br />
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Storm clouds at the end of the day.<br />
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Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-58306727610710739962014-08-03T13:20:00.001-07:002014-08-03T13:20:52.878-07:00May 2014: Climbing Mt Whitney<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The word <i>epic</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> is often said during adventures, used
mostly as an adjective to describe something beyond the ordinary, or at least, above average. “Skiing was epic today,” you might hear, or even, “Epic
backpack, dude!” Though not necessarily misused, its overuse is common and its
meaning is diluted. When I think of <i>epic</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">, I think of something grand, something wild, perhaps
something dangerous or even perilous. At the very least, it’s something to
write home about. In that sense, to me, <i>epic</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> is more of a noun than an adjective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Among the
adventure community, I’ve only seen climbers use the word as a noun. Some might
warn, “If you miss the turn, you’re bound for an epic.” They don’t mean you’ll
have an awesome good time. Instead, you’ll probably run out of food and water,
struggle to stay warm, finish in the dark, and feel grateful to survive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">With that in
mind, the following is an account of my most recent <i>Epic</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Before you get
nervous, know that we all walked out on our own power and we enjoyed
cheeseburgers and a pitcher in the welcoming town of Lone Pine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102470237" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mount Whitney
is the highest summit in the contiguous United States. Alaska has nearly a
dozen taller peaks, but Whitney holds much prestige at over 14,500 feet above
sea level. Located in California’s Sierra Nevada range, it is a popular
summertime hiking destination. Hikers begin near 8,000’ and usually spend 2
days completing the 13 mile (one-way) hike, camping at 12,000’ along the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102405744" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The hike is
long and strenuous, but there are other ways to get to the top. The
Moutaineer’s route, requiring crampons and ice axes, ascends a steep
snow-filled gulley all the way to the top. It’s like climbing stairs in the
snow, for 4 hours or more. A fall on this 40-degree slope could potentially send
a climber on a 1000’ slide. There are also steeper routes, for those who prefer
ropes and harnesses to spikes and axes. The East Face and East Buttress routes
offer over 1000’ of vertical rock climbing. Both East routes rise directly to
the summit and descend via the Mountaineer’s route.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Judging the
routes, the snow and weather conditions, and (mis)judging our abilities, we set
out to climb the East Buttress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our guide book
suggests the Buttress can be climbed in 6-8 hours, so we forego the traditional
alpine (5:00am) start, sleep ‘til 7 and wait for the mid-20-degree morning
chill to ease. When we rise for breakfast, two groups have already passed us.
We aren’t worried about being third in line, so we take our time to gear up. By
9am, the sun is warm, the lead groups are clear and we make our way to the
start.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102405447" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The first few
pitches go smoothly enough, but we are well behind the pace we had imagined. We
hoped for 12 pitches in 8 hours, but our early pace is closer to one pitch per
hour. At this rate, we’ll be 4 hours late to the summit, which means we’ll
finish around sunset and have to descend in the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Recalling the
description of the Moutaineer’s route, descending in the dark is not ideal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102406285" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">As the sun dips
into the afternoon, shade envelopes the face. Instantly, we are cold again. I’m
wearing only shorts and rain pants under my harness, but I add a down coat
between my base layers and my rain shell. With a fleece hat and gloves, the
cold is tolerable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102405449" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">By the 4<sup>th</sup>
pitch, I realize we are way behind schedule. There’s no way we will finish
before dark. I explain my worry to the team; we need to make a back-up plan and
find a way to descend. Ignoring the cold and wind, the group is optimistic;
we’ll make it past the toughest section and find the easier moves ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Despite the
positive attitude, our pace worsens. Instead of getting into a rhythm as we
hoped, we seem to be slowing. Standing in the shade between pitches, I’m
starting to shiver. The wind picks up and pummels the exposed face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102405452" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Communication
becomes difficult in the wind. We started the climb with two hand-held radios,
but it’s about now, on the 5<sup>th</sup> pitch, as the wind howls, that my
radio slips from my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hear
it clink at my feet and ricochet into space. I turn to watch it fall.
For 50 or 100 feet, the blue Motorola accelerates to its demise. Smashing into
pieces and skittering over the ledges below, its last transmission is one of
warning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i>The GoPro camera
can’t capture the true conditions, but to provide some idea of how strong the
wind was, consider what we found when we returned to base camp</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102470075" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i>I don’t have a
wind gust estimate, but it’s interesting to note that the tent stakes and nylon
cords are still in the ground at the site. Instead of pulling the stakes and
rolling away, the tent ripped itself from the stakes and took to the sky.
Though we found one tent 1/3 mile from the site, the second tent was lost,
along with a variety of small items. Sleeping bags, pads, extra clothes, hats
and more are all scattered somewhere in the range. We are lucky to find a
backpack 1/4 mile away, and even a sleeping pad about one mile from camp. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Back on the
Buttress, we are unable to hear each other through the wind. We can yell short
distances but once the lead climber is beyond 50’, our communication is limited
to pulls and tugs on the rope.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102406268" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">An hour before
sunset, we reach the crux of the climb: a difficult off-width crack, followed
by an awkward overhanging slab. As the lead climber struggles to make the move,
we realize our mistake: we are veering off the route and into unknown terrain.
We yell at him to move left, but he can’t hear us and continues right. He
rounds the corner and we’re helplessly forced to follow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Recall what
climbers warn about wrong turns. This is about to become an epic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The 2<sup>nd</sup>
and 3<sup>rd</sup> climbers fight their way through the pitch, leaving skin and
blood on the rocks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Being the last
to climb, I wait alone for the others to finish the pitch. What is taking so
long, I wonder aloud. Eventually I feel 5 hard tugs on the rope and I’m free to
climb. As the twilight turns to night, I race up the crack, smash my knees into the crevice, bear hug the slab, jump a 2’ gap onto a hanging boulder, and join my
friends on a small snowy ledge above a 1000’ foot cliff. There’s blood
everywhere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I can feel
warmth oozing down my legs, as my knees stick to Gore-Tex. I notice another
trail in the snow, and realize a teammate has torn up his knuckles. With
limited supplies and reduced optimism, he simply lets the blood run down his
fingers and drip to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is on this
ledge, huddled together, where we realize the gravity of our situation. It is
much too dangerous to rappel down this unknown face, particularly in the dark,
and a 4 foot snowy ledge is no place to survive a night of howling wind. The
decision is quickly made and our leader scurries around the corner as darkness
falls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102406269" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">His pace is
excruciating. A foot at a time, or sometimes less, the rope pulls around the
corner and into the gloom. A minute passes between pulls. I notice the stars
are out and bright. I eat the rest of my food, a mere three bites of sugary stuff, thinking of the freeze-dried dinners, trail mix, and Clif bars we left
at camp. My water bottle begins to freeze. After 15 minutes, or an hour maybe,
the rope is finally taught and my partners climb into the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The next hour
is the most difficult I have ever spent in the mountains. Uncertainty becomes
anxiety, which becomes fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I sit alone,
in the snow, on a ledge, midway up a face of the tallest mountain, listening to
the wind howl through the dark. I’m out of food. My water is now ice. I’m
shivering. My radio is broken, there are no cell phones, and my only lifeline
is coiled at my feet, slowly unwinding and dragging itself up the mountain.
Like all reptiles, the 60 meter green snake moves slowly in the cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The anxious
fear boils into anger. I curse the dark cold wind. I yell at the stars. I scold
myself and my climbing partners. What were we thinking? Why didn’t we turn
back? What the fuck are we doing up here? How are we going to get through this?
I can’t help but think of solitary confinement. I’m trapped in a small, dark,
uncomfortable space, alone with my thoughts, and I have no idea how long I will
be there. Perhaps this is the punishment for making a few poor decisions along
the route.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Suddenly, I
feel 5 sharp tugs and I snap out of it. I click on my headlamp and turn to
climb once more. The short pitch is not enough to warm my body. I shiver
immediately upon reaching the next belay point. I coil my rope against the
rock, sit on it, and wedge myself against my backpack to block the wind. I
close my eyes and wait for a tug.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102406270" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The snake
slithers its way through boulders and ledges, back and forth before finally
pulling taught once more. I sit up and notice for the first time how beautiful
the night is. I can see lights from 100 miles away. We must be nearing the
summit, I (mistakenly) think. My attitude instantly changes. The waves of emotion have
settled and I realize everything is going to be fine. I know we’re going to
make it. I no longer despise the wind, the cold, the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I turn to the
face, lift my head, and send the pitch easily. That is, of course, until I
reach the next crux move just short of the belay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Two large
boulder ledges form a funnel, angling gently towards a 4 foot gap between them.
In the dark, by himself, our leader jumped this gap with very little protection.
If at ground level, in daylight, a 5-year-old could do it easily. But up here,
in the dark, with 1000’ beneath my feet, the gap is suddenly impossible. I know
the three climbers ahead of me have already jumped, but I ask anyway, “Are you
serious?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yeah, I got
you,” says the belay…. OK. 1. 2. And 3. Right. Left. And leap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">It must be
approaching midnight, we’ve been climbing in the dark for 4 hours, and it’s
time to take a break and gather ourselves. On yet another exposed blocky ledge,
we huddle against the wind. I can tell morale is low, and perhaps still
dropping. We check our supplies. Food: empty. Water: empty, or frozen. Warm
clothes: on, but insufficient. I notice, however, that I’m the only one wearing
boots. It was so cold, 5 hours ago, that I had to remove my climbing shoes and
replace them with wool socks and heavy boots. It impedes my climbing, but at
least my feet are warm-ish. The others still have constrictive climbing shoes
on and are all complaining about their numbed feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Time for a
morale boost: everybody, remove your climbing shoes and put on some socks!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">After my
twilight low point, my attitude has steadily improved. I see the team is still
very low, so I start making light of our situation. Stories, jokes, complaints,
dreams, thoughts of food, anything that comes to mind, I spew it to the group.
We sit for an hour on the ledge, recuperating our mental strength to continue
the climb. We still have a ways to go, and it’s too cold to sit any longer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i>Another major
morale boost occurred on that ledge, and it involved a blue plastic bag. If you
don’t instantly know what that means, here’s a g-rated version of how to use a
blue bag in the mountains.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102405445" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our trip
leader and I huddle shoulder to shoulder, minimizing our exposure to the wind.
He proclaims, “Well, it’s gotta happen,” pulling a bag from his pack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I'll give
you some space,” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Don’t worry
about it,” he says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Let me
reiterate. We are sitting on a 4’ square boulder ledge, a thousand feet up,
with our hips and shoulders touching, and he plans to remove his harness and
shit in a bag without me getting in the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I know things
are pretty bleak, but I am not about to go that low today. I gingerly step to
the adjacent rock, providing a few feet of space, if not privacy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">With a blue
bag filled and sealed with laughter, though still shivering, thirsty, hungry,
and tired, we resume our climb. Desperate to avoid the punishment of climbing 4<sup>th</sup>,
I propose a new strategy. We begin simul-climbing when the route allows. The
leader and I now simultaneously climb, and belay the 3<sup>rd</sup> and 4<sup>th</sup>
climbers in parallel. For the most part, we are now climbing in two groups of
two, instead of the snaking relay that dominated the lower, more difficult,
sections. Though no faster, it improves our mood. There is nothing, however, to
do about the cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">For the last
few hours, I’ve done everything to avoid touching the rock. I sit only on the
rope, or on my pack, or simply stand in the wind. I shiver when I stop
climbing, but I feel stable. The others, however, are much colder. I see them
collapse after each pitch, exhausted. Sprawling on the rocks and snow, they are
losing heat. I watch a teammate shiver uncontrollably, barely able to breathe.
He hyperventilates as his whole body tremors. I’ve not seen anything like it.
My eyes meet those of another partner and we share our concern wordlessly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I ask if the
breathing is a voluntary way to warm up, but he stammers, “No.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I wonder if
the altitude is affecting him. Perhaps it’s just exhaustion, mixed with hunger
and dehydration, amplified by cold, and wrapped in stress. No matter the
diagnosis, the only cure is to get down to camp, get food, get water, get warm,
and get off the mountain. And, of course, there’s only one way to do any of
that; we must first make the summit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Pitch after
pitch, snake by snake, we continue upwards. As his exhaustion nears delirium,
our leader makes another wrong turn, again pushing us into more difficult
moves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The monotony
is numbing, or maybe it’s just the cold. Climb shiver belay. Shiver climb
shiver. Belay shiver shiver…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Passing
3:00am, one of our altimeter watches says we are only 40’ from of the summit.
We crane our necks upward but our headlamps only illuminate the same things
we’ve seen for the last 8 hours: rocks and darkness. A second altimeter
suggests we’re still 400’ below the summit. Uhg. It’s the classic backcountry
mistake. As soon you think the end is right around the corner, there’s always
another corner. One false summit leads to another, to another, to another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Shaking our
heads as we prepare for another few pitches, we notice the snake moving with a
vigor before unseen. Suddenly, above the wind, we hear a shout. To our
disbelief and relief, our leader has reached the peak and is standing on the
highest summit in the lower 48. We hurry to join him, doing our best to avoid
the other major backcountry mistake: becoming careless when the finish is near.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We share
congratulatory hugs and high fives and immediately coil the ropes and scurry
into the National Park Service summit hut. It’s barely more than a tin roof on
a pile of rocks, but it does block the wind and provide the warmth of a safe
place, even if the air inside is only 25 degrees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s 4:00am.
We lay our ropes and lean our packs, close our eyes and wait for the sun to
rise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Finally,
mercifully, the sun crests the horizon and brings the energy of renewed
optimism. The wind is still blasting, but it doesn’t feel so cold. We take
summit photos to prove our existence, if not our success, and drop into the Moutaineer’s
route to descend to camp. In only two hours, we arrive at the place where our
tents used to be, the same place where we started our climb 24 hours prior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We eat our
remaining food (last night’s dinner), drink from the frozen lake, collect our scavenged
gear, complete the 4-hour hike to the car, unload our bags (including the blue
ones), return to Lone Pine, and promptly devour some epic cheeseburgers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/102406284" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Epilogue<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">After 2 months
of reflection, it’s easy to see our mistakes. First and foremost, we simply had
too many people in our group. With only one competent lead climber, our relay
method was inexcusably slow, even leaning towards dangerously slow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Additionally,
we weren’t strong enough climbers. Our fitness was decent, as we made the hike
at a good pace, but we wasted too much time on climbing moves that should have
been completed more easily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Also, always
obvious in retrospect, we should have better prepared for the long climb by
bringing extra food and water, and warmer clothes too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lastly, much
to our surprise, we should have had a stronger tent. The one we lost was
designed for Everest expeditions, but that claim is laughable after seeing how
it faired at 12K’ in the Sierras.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">On the other
hand, we must also reflect on the way we handled the difficult situation
without letting a few bad choices become a disaster. We mitigated our risks
when able, we climbed safely and methodically, we worked as a team, and we knew
when <i>not</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> to hunker
down and wait for help. Although our decision to climb in the dark sounds a
little careless to some, I believe that we would have fared far worse had we
stopped climbing at dusk and waited 10 hours for sunrise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Another
scenario that keeps playing in my head is the one where we summit near dusk,
descend in the dark, and find our tents missing with no other shelter nearby.
It would have been an impossible night on an open snow field with no tents.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">It becomes one
of those <i>any landing you walk away from</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> stories, when things go wrong but you survive nonetheless.
Things certainly didn’t go according to our plan, but we landed on the summit
and we all walked away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thanks to Nate
Hansen, Nate Tang, and Andrew Yue for walking with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thanks to the
NPS for constructing a way-above-average-but-not-quite-epic summit hut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-31224917966062113952014-04-03T16:37:00.002-07:002014-04-03T19:46:28.194-07:00Cycling San Francisco to Santa Barbara<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">In 2010,
I rode the Oregon coast with Nate and Kimber Hansen. (<a href="http://jkoonsphoto.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-7-sample-stills.html" target="_blank">Photos</a> & <a href="http://jkoonsphoto.blogspot.com/2011/02/feb-16-oregon-recap.html" target="_blank">Video</a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">) We covered 413 miles in 9 days, at a
very comfortable 11 miles per hour and 50 miles per day. It was a stunning way
to experience the coast, with ample time for photos, frisbee, and relaxation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">We told ourselves that one day we would continue the trip, down the California
coast. Well, that day recently arrived on short notice. Nate found a few days
off from podiatry school and we discussed a few adventure options. Considering
weather, travel, and (least of all) fitness, we decided to ride another 400
mile section of Hwy 1, from San Francisco to Santa Barbara. In the time crunch,
we only could afford 4 days of riding. Dividing 400 miles by 4 days is pretty
easy math, but the 100-miles-per-day resultant is definitively not easy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Before this trip, my longest ever bike ride was 60
miles, and that was in 2008. On the Oregon tour, our longest day was only 55
miles. Since moving to CA in 2011, my longest ride has been a mere 20 miles.
This is all simply to say that riding 100 miles in a day would roughly double
my previous best. To do 4 consecutive 100 milers would break my personal
measuring stick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><b>Day 1</b>:
Oakland, 7:30am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
first segment of our ride is the most circuitous, as we navigate the BART
rails, weave through The City traffic, curve down the famous Lombard St, pass
the Golden Gate, and finally hit the beach at Hwy 1.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large; mso-tab-count: 1;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/90816250" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/90816250">SF to SB part 1</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jeremykoons">Jeremy Koons</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large; mso-tab-count: 1;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pacifica,
10:00am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
25 miles, we’re finally getting in the groove. Open highways, scenic terrain,
and perfect weather dissolve the miles easily. Our rhythm becomes very simple:
pedal-pedal-pedal-eat, pedal-pedal-pedal-eat, rinse-and-repeat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large; mso-tab-count: 1;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/90816144" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/90816144">SF to SB part 2</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jeremykoons">Jeremy Koons</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><b>Day 2</b>: Santa
Cruz, 8:30am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Our daily
pattern is fully developed. There is no time for anything but pedaling and
eating. The morning is not so scenic, but the eating is terrific. The roadside
produce stands are a treasure, the Whole Enchilada in particular, and it’s hard
to beat a Sunday afternoon in Monterey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large; mso-tab-count: 1;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/90816088" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/90816088">SF to SB part 3</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jeremykoons">Jeremy Koons</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Monterey,
12:30pm. <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">After
lunch, we tour the famous 17-mile-drive around Pebble Beach. Shortly after
leaving Carmel, we develop a new component to our routine: bike repair. This
year we forego the single-wheel bike trailers from the Oregon ride, and opt to
load all our gear onto our rear panniers. It should be obvious that our
aluminum and carbon bikes are not designed for the extra weight, as they have
no braze-ons (fancy bike word for ‘mounting spots’) for rear racks.
Nonetheless, we use a blend a jury rigging (<b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jury_rig" target="_blank">link</a></b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">) and jimmy rigging (<b><a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=jimmy%20rig&defid=1213538" target="_blank">link</a></b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">) to affix our gear as best we can.
Eventually, inevitably, things fall apart. First to break is Nate’s rack. We
scrap some pieces, replace some screws, and continue south.
Pedal-pedal-repair-pedal-eat, pedal-pedal-repair-pedal-eat… It just doesn’t
have the same rhythm. We make it to camp with few other issues, but the
physical strain of 190 miles in two days starts to affect us.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large; mso-tab-count: 1;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/90815977" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/90815977">SF to SB part 4</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jeremykoons">Jeremy Koons</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Big
Sur, 6:30pm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
scenery of the riding is unrivaled, and the downhill sections are exhilarating,
but the highlight of each day is definitely the first few minutes at camp.
Parking the bikes, putting on sandals, and resting at the picnic table with a
beer… it’s even better than lunch in Monterey. A great component of our coastal
bikepacking is that we can usually find a market within a few miles of camp.
With some planning, we ride as lightly as possible, then bulk up on food and
drink just before the finish. In this way, we always have fresh food and cold
beer when we collapse at the campsite. Also of great benefit to bike campers is
the $5 fee in most state parks. The regular sites are up to $35.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Despite
the lavish comforts of camp, the nights arrive quickly and the mornings quicker
still. With many miles to cover, we wake at 5:30 to break camp. The sudden
transition is difficult. Riding in the dark is a challenge, but it’s nothing
compared to the hills that await in Big Sur.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large; mso-tab-count: 1;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/90815876" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/90815876">SF to SB part 5</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jeremykoons">Jeremy Koons</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><b>Day 3:</b> Big
Sur, 7:00am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
camera battery dies as the sunrise paints pastels over the Pacific. This
section of Hwy 1, ridden at this hour, is the most beautiful I've ridden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHt1-a705d62tUU3M-02GZ2vtI01wxOw4Yx7aqpwaP0YlUiXJwsn1ae8bvnklV5WJ_kwggYQ4tODMDZJTjeKGRVCd9sWxzzvVtbKSP6z8JmBJ9Lg8IRJjRf9r1JnL_d29yGU8IgZtJVHZ/s1600/IMG_1157-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHt1-a705d62tUU3M-02GZ2vtI01wxOw4Yx7aqpwaP0YlUiXJwsn1ae8bvnklV5WJ_kwggYQ4tODMDZJTjeKGRVCd9sWxzzvVtbKSP6z8JmBJ9Lg8IRJjRf9r1JnL_d29yGU8IgZtJVHZ/s1600/IMG_1157-web.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"> However, the
hills, with a heavy bike and my out-of-shape knees, make it also the most
painful ride of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">In 2010,
I developed bursitis in my knee, causing shooting pain under the stress of
pedaling uphill. It took 3 months to recover. As I fought my way up the Big Sur
hills, I struggled physically with the same shooting pains in my knees. I
struggled mentally with the idea that I was causing long-term damage to the
joints. I feared that I was sentencing myself to a summer of rest and
inactivity. It was painful, frustrating, even scary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">After 2
hours and only 20 miles, I near my breaking point. I consider the options: 1)
quit and hitch a ride to the nearest train station, or 2) stop at the next
available camp and spend the next two days limping to the next town. Either
choice leaves us short of our goal. I am very stubborn, and I despise giving
up, so instead of changing the plan, I ditch the plans completely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Let’s
just ride until you can’t ride anymore. One hour more. One mile more. One
minute more. One more crank of the pedal. When even the smallest of steps
becomes too difficult, I again throw out the plan. I curse the pain and
something clicks: just do it. It’s no Nike slogan. It is just a realization
that physical pain and mental anguish are temporary and beatable. I refuse to
quit. Also, Nate is about a mile ahead of me. I can’t quit and leave him
pedaling onward unaware of my absence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Oh, I
almost forgot, Nate is also now carrying the tent, my sleeping bag, my pad, my
clothes, all of the food, and anything else we can strap to his bike. I can’t
let him haul all of my shit up these steep-ass hills and then tell him I can’t
do it anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Ragged
Point, 12:00pm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">I manage
to drag myself up the last of the Big Sur hills and coast into a lunch break.
In nearly 6 hours, we’ve ridden less than 50 miles. Again we discuss the
we’re-not-quitting-but-we-need-a-back-up plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Can I
ride 20 miles more? I’m not sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Could we
make it another 60 to San Luis Obispo by the next day, to catch a train? I’m
afraid to answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">It’s
still 180 to Santa Barbara. We’re barely halfway. We can’t quit yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Lunch
restores our energy, our mood, our optimism, and our just-do-it attitude.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1cDEmeAG1p1yg1jPuokyrtrclAA-U-ftzL1zyOc3gNYifdQwFFueljiQhFCOrZzauJbupcBvbMswikyI4UwM4gADfmCp3_hF1pSgrQB2g_Nlbk6-1TZYUVYIXpcBhV50_5lY-8fiU6km1/s1600/IMG_1162-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1cDEmeAG1p1yg1jPuokyrtrclAA-U-ftzL1zyOc3gNYifdQwFFueljiQhFCOrZzauJbupcBvbMswikyI4UwM4gADfmCp3_hF1pSgrQB2g_Nlbk6-1TZYUVYIXpcBhV50_5lY-8fiU6km1/s1600/IMG_1162-web.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">That is,
of course, until the bike itself can’t ride anymore. Finally in a groove,
making great pace along the gentler terrain, I hear an unwelcome sound:
crack-ping-ping-ping-ping-ping. A spoke on my rear wheel finally gives out
under the heavy load. Bike spokes provide tension on the rim of the wheel,
distributing weight and holding its shape. When one breaks, the balance is lost
and the remaining spokes take disproportionate loads. In practice, this means
the wheel is no longer round, or ‘true.’ An un-true wheel wobbles and often
rubs on the brakes. In my case, the wheel was so out of balance that it
wouldn’t even spin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">We spent
20 minutes fiddling with the wheel, using inadequate tools, to straighten it
enough to spin freely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDkx0bnO7X1RqkFVV8YZltidIwZvYQFasnvCSzEQ59S5ezIZ-vEF83b9AsseatW4dE2w2GGPoOg3zpQe_aOdeRJsyguxNNpgtlhyKWk9pzzloWfs8hdyy6jP3RXPDWvTz5Is40u9toX0K/s1600/IMG_1165-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDkx0bnO7X1RqkFVV8YZltidIwZvYQFasnvCSzEQ59S5ezIZ-vEF83b9AsseatW4dE2w2GGPoOg3zpQe_aOdeRJsyguxNNpgtlhyKWk9pzzloWfs8hdyy6jP3RXPDWvTz5Is40u9toX0K/s1600/IMG_1165-web.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Another
great thing about this ride is the beautiful road-side work benches.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdO6iQF3Br9AeM16BSoRdcZwiXMuhrQFdPbZDviVUqeLj2ZictXOo2vxti_fo0dPk9G2IJmfp00NzAKra9WTtnvuHRyoTNevISFvxieZyavHd03F3ESfvYxFTxO_xCNPRAysaxsSbwAFb/s1600/IMG_1164-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdO6iQF3Br9AeM16BSoRdcZwiXMuhrQFdPbZDviVUqeLj2ZictXOo2vxti_fo0dPk9G2IJmfp00NzAKra9WTtnvuHRyoTNevISFvxieZyavHd03F3ESfvYxFTxO_xCNPRAysaxsSbwAFb/s1600/IMG_1164-web.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">I am impressed with our attitude. Instead of collapsing under another obstacle, we persevere again. Things
are rolling so smoothly now that we forget about the back-up plans. We ride
another 40 miles without a worry. Only 29 more to SLO.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvngc-ryr8RO4BGvUMyXawHMz8rRq9fqLQvs8f_iwM5NEAmXZOOwbkcUO8U_iWqPeyDyiyBUAZ8e6nzyBoeMpCxKJ6r9iywdxxi1AIt9lTxVT1k4wrVu1RhJadZ44KhQeKDFGm77Lv_e5q/s1600/IMG_1166-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvngc-ryr8RO4BGvUMyXawHMz8rRq9fqLQvs8f_iwM5NEAmXZOOwbkcUO8U_iWqPeyDyiyBUAZ8e6nzyBoeMpCxKJ6r9iywdxxi1AIt9lTxVT1k4wrVu1RhJadZ44KhQeKDFGm77Lv_e5q/s1600/IMG_1166-web.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Nearing
SLO, we pass 100 miles on the day, along a winding country road. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">After a
quick stop for dinner, we press on to Pismo Beach. At mile 115, after sunset,
we pass a campground that is unheralded in my guide book. We skip ahead to the
next one, a few miles farther south. Upon arriving there, we discover it’s a
total dump: 5 motor homes and a pit toilet. Back to the first campground, a few
miles <i>north</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">, we
discover there are no sites for bicyclists. Grateful to see a park ranger, he
suggests an RV park down the road that has ‘limited space for bikers.’ We’ll
take it! Another few miles south and we reach a mega RV park, poorly lit, with
no instructions for cyclists. At mile 125, after 10 hours of pedaling, we’re too tired to go anywhere else.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Our luck
finally turns when a local comes staggering through the parking lot, obviously
well inebriated on a Tuesday evening. He guides us (See: bowling ball down a
bumper lane) to a patch of dirt in the corner of the park.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Again,
luck finds us when we spot someone exiting the pass-code protected showers. We
revel in long, hot (and free!) showers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">We sleep
soundly, despite being only 30 feet from Hwy 1.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrtSXGutGVdM-n8XzxgNkIOxlqsWRMKaiU0_Z573QZvySegfwHletyDmSEPIo2UOWPWwcWwQl47rWXxpsA-2Za4ocahnimAN26C05ZBh_dYyTvkpEnzSU-GQMX3Wdh-g2gx3Fiy7N6iRH/s1600/IMG_1178-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrtSXGutGVdM-n8XzxgNkIOxlqsWRMKaiU0_Z573QZvySegfwHletyDmSEPIo2UOWPWwcWwQl47rWXxpsA-2Za4ocahnimAN26C05ZBh_dYyTvkpEnzSU-GQMX3Wdh-g2gx3Fiy7N6iRH/s1600/IMG_1178-web.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><b>Day 4</b>: Pismo,
6:30am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
awake in the dark, again, to begin the last leg of the tour: 100 miles to Santa
Barbara. I continue to push through the knee pain as the miles roll by. This
day, it’s Nate who seems to be dragging. After 2 hours, he is spent. I’ve never
seen him like this. I know my pace is mediocre, and if he can barely keep up,
something must be wrong. We break for a snack, back in our
pedal-pedal-pedal-eat rhythm, only to discover that he has broken a spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIm8Zekw5kt9eMR8xMuTQ_sKvC15cgdyZACJyonThbHEjIPgsjMyXidTmrShJcb0rTaZb139O1-w0xpWVDkBJj0k2bT8R6xTGonrPXCDrnZ1p-9JY604dj7752ytxjJXO7tGJVmw6F2Aw/s1600/IMG_1180-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIm8Zekw5kt9eMR8xMuTQ_sKvC15cgdyZACJyonThbHEjIPgsjMyXidTmrShJcb0rTaZb139O1-w0xpWVDkBJj0k2bT8R6xTGonrPXCDrnZ1p-9JY604dj7752ytxjJXO7tGJVmw6F2Aw/s1600/IMG_1180-web.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBy9h8ag8IBl6SDmeA36jQFsaZ7TEcaimFyh0CVJOUjJt2meb0ZRlhNxpeZSE4NhamO3gt-_HLwkMEn_CqQrPXNvDEZ2YNaRvHuS9y4ziv1NlLMHWyVF04pfJ-zf-z4djry_xGQx6xXR0u/s1600/IMG_1181-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBy9h8ag8IBl6SDmeA36jQFsaZ7TEcaimFyh0CVJOUjJt2meb0ZRlhNxpeZSE4NhamO3gt-_HLwkMEn_CqQrPXNvDEZ2YNaRvHuS9y4ziv1NlLMHWyVF04pfJ-zf-z4djry_xGQx6xXR0u/s1600/IMG_1181-web.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
wheel has been rubbing all morning. For 25 miles, he’s been riding with the
brakes on. We were too tired to notice. Usually a mechanical breakdown like
this might lead to a break down of a more emotional nature. Instead, we embrace
the difficulty of the day, we flip the bike, we fix the wheel, and we celebrate
the realization that the riding will get easier (now that the brakes aren’t engaged).
We get back to pedal-pedal-pedal-eat, and summit the Purisima hills nearing
Lompoc.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoHQ9qOzbsE7NaB13eutJL8H6aqNVzQilvWIPDtGRbAtiLwuJ2INgK50JjzzrejcTaaFsmr4pmJuDlAvz2NYcb2s_YAofJEFJ6O2NmO9uDBpB6euz5u3QsNx3lBD8beJnIthuWhpaZEd2/s1600/IMG_1185-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoHQ9qOzbsE7NaB13eutJL8H6aqNVzQilvWIPDtGRbAtiLwuJ2INgK50JjzzrejcTaaFsmr4pmJuDlAvz2NYcb2s_YAofJEFJ6O2NmO9uDBpB6euz5u3QsNx3lBD8beJnIthuWhpaZEd2/s1600/IMG_1185-web.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Lompoc,
11:30.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">We stop
for lunch in a vacant corner lot. Or, is it an art garden? Who cares. Let’s
eat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZmt9W2tcBIOkrZmV-rzkNfwcAYWfiNhmyKL5O2OY9mg_yiuQ9DOZ6aMBIfSuI6s03vbUZX9hH8Qt0tFEm9dZBTRVIY1TYkq0cxkw2PgQqnsgKppD-6KXFfeuaYbZeg_KnuhUoki0vsxt/s1600/IMG_1186-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZmt9W2tcBIOkrZmV-rzkNfwcAYWfiNhmyKL5O2OY9mg_yiuQ9DOZ6aMBIfSuI6s03vbUZX9hH8Qt0tFEm9dZBTRVIY1TYkq0cxkw2PgQqnsgKppD-6KXFfeuaYbZeg_KnuhUoki0vsxt/s1600/IMG_1186-web.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
summit the last hill of the trip, at 1:30pm, with only 40 miles to Santa
Barbara. I text my SB friends to proclaim our success: “<i>Only 40 miles to go.
All downhill and downwind. See you in a few hours</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyfdDApz3Acqs3ZOgm6WpE4mzTZY4bFRw-q9SAS-JJqI9a6s6qlXKNs37emi3FmmnyHXFDNS7L2f5CGyMJiQwDQShsiB4ne2kXbH_f6JHTh0Z2JDlaOIquFYxR_wD-a2Y93V6J1u9Yf-q/s1600/IMG_1187-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyfdDApz3Acqs3ZOgm6WpE4mzTZY4bFRw-q9SAS-JJqI9a6s6qlXKNs37emi3FmmnyHXFDNS7L2f5CGyMJiQwDQShsiB4ne2kXbH_f6JHTh0Z2JDlaOIquFYxR_wD-a2Y93V6J1u9Yf-q/s1600/IMG_1187-web.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oops.
Whether you believe in superstition or not, it’s clear that a big adventure isn’t
over ‘til it’s over, and it makes no sense to get ahead of yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At
the bottom of the hill, still 30 miles out, I blow a tire. I squirm the bike to
a safe spot and take out the repair kit. A new tire. A new tube. Tire irons. A
hand pump. A CO2 pump and cartridge…. While we’re at it, we true Nate’s wheel
again. Other cyclists pass us while we work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34y28ScX6AwnIxMMOEsu0QfIQdY_KG_hj8F5787XD_YLR4iG0fYExeud_9dYsLLVMp_i-7Iz5y6pmFN62dHn3mZNQj9PoNRFudWGOWAk8FHQjxOjv_WmNZwMqS2WAAhkEYbcxeobBcCXQ/s1600/IMG_1190-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34y28ScX6AwnIxMMOEsu0QfIQdY_KG_hj8F5787XD_YLR4iG0fYExeud_9dYsLLVMp_i-7Iz5y6pmFN62dHn3mZNQj9PoNRFudWGOWAk8FHQjxOjv_WmNZwMqS2WAAhkEYbcxeobBcCXQ/s1600/IMG_1190-web.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
know the repair is not perfect. The tire pressure is insufficient. I ride
gently, but cannot avoid the bumps in the road. Five miles later, over a
bridge, I blow another tube. So much for “<i>downhill and downwind</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">.” We stop in the shade and I whip
another tube on the wheel. In my haste, I scrape knuckles over metal and blood
runs down my hands.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nate
and I take stock of our gear. We have a tire and tubes remaining, but no more
CO2. My hand pump proves worthless, which means the next flat might sink the
trip.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"> El Capitan State Park (off-ramp), 4:00pm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By
now, you might know where this is headed. We ride a few miles more and Nate
pulls off the road ahead of me. Flat tire. We try to fix it, but we’re short on
supplies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At
mile 383, it’s finally time to call it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uwhqv3js3TsU5BxXunEpgcLQmPIBCEOoKe-yA-dpazH2lsEv1cqAuC8cXpo8ECKZUV2N1wlJ67sYXgnP3uyWwg3Lktrzy8UDpMw-k6ZF4giyGAcHxsranyWTflhQvAAAR0RO48HDKgoI/s1600/IMG_1192-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uwhqv3js3TsU5BxXunEpgcLQmPIBCEOoKe-yA-dpazH2lsEv1cqAuC8cXpo8ECKZUV2N1wlJ67sYXgnP3uyWwg3Lktrzy8UDpMw-k6ZF4giyGAcHxsranyWTflhQvAAAR0RO48HDKgoI/s1600/IMG_1192-web.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">As if in
a tv gameshow, I use my call-a-friend lifeline, and a truck arrives 45 minutes
later to take us to town. Our heads held high, we do not admit defeat. We rode
383 miles in 4 days, and there’s no shame in saving the last 20 for another
ride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Route
Maps<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/379991823" target="_blank">Day 1: 93 miles</a>,
12.4 ave, 5300’ elevation gain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/379995263" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Day</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/379995263" target="_blank">2: 85 miles</a>,
13.1 ave, 4700’ gain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/379998217" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Day</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/379998217" target="_blank">3: 125 miles</a>,
12.3 ave, 9200’ gain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/380000269" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Day</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/380000269" target="_blank">4: 80 miles</a>,
13.5 ave, 4000’ gain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Total: 383
miles, in 30 hours of riding, average speed 12.8 mph, 23,000’ gain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">95 miles per
day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Thanks to Nate
for his relentless positive attitude, and for hauling my gear through Big Sur.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Thanks to Nate
Tang for guiding us through SF.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Thanks to Adam
for skipping out of work to pick us up on the side of the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Thanks to Adam
and Lindsay for hosting us in SB.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Thanks to
Steve and Melissa for joining us for celebratory burgers and beers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thanks to
Kimber for the ride back to Oakland.</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">Thanks are also due to the songs in the above videos. I put a play list on during the painful climbs and it helped boost me up the hills.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">Pumpin Blood - NONONO</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">I Love It - Icona Pop</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">Closer - Tegan and Sara</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">Miles Away - Years Around the Sun</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">Get Some - Lykke Li</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">Leave the Lights on - Meiko</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;">...and more...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-55991723108482938922011-12-13T14:45:00.000-08:002011-12-14T09:40:19.178-08:00Dec 12: Never Before**Never Before have I done these things**<br />
<br />
**Rigged a bike rack using webbing, screws, and cam straps.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdP9NxxiOgcBQlbBSGedy7RkKGihEtRzaW-fTwfLwgD_4vwz2vI-bVM6efdx5ACsYh0OrloHqRW_JqiQNN8CA4yP81BG8ImYoJfbsEXharxKtPNsGhfIwZpW9bcDBCMYXP8_aMAu-HmvTJ/s1600/989X8084-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdP9NxxiOgcBQlbBSGedy7RkKGihEtRzaW-fTwfLwgD_4vwz2vI-bVM6efdx5ACsYh0OrloHqRW_JqiQNN8CA4yP81BG8ImYoJfbsEXharxKtPNsGhfIwZpW9bcDBCMYXP8_aMAu-HmvTJ/s640/989X8084-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Don't forget the the dog, and the chainsaw.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_Z5aa1KRybCbCJpwvVKjdOV8jYeJalRXdz9f7mI7je6QkqvVlI_4qCF8zoRjVRG_n7HOmv3WrXrDjqoYJ2fSk5kVD_NX_0C8oeqkAb0-lNb8ySCvW6UoW_NL77jWmIJExXeEi6YAq5Ov/s1600/989X8085-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_Z5aa1KRybCbCJpwvVKjdOV8jYeJalRXdz9f7mI7je6QkqvVlI_4qCF8zoRjVRG_n7HOmv3WrXrDjqoYJ2fSk5kVD_NX_0C8oeqkAb0-lNb8ySCvW6UoW_NL77jWmIJExXeEi6YAq5Ov/s400/989X8085-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
**Planned a route (for a vehicle) on a Forest Service topo map.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXySHODYuojT1tnbSAa14AYjhQNrwRzSwK7aaBMhnvn9ZQPLDHWw3Z6D57RtD3Wo2epiDWQQD-atXIYEn53HfvLhVyPeaLAVgHdLDC4nWc1bM9ivrLpk-TWCZ7klr8eR_q0DITonrhqpQ/s1600/989X8091-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXySHODYuojT1tnbSAa14AYjhQNrwRzSwK7aaBMhnvn9ZQPLDHWw3Z6D57RtD3Wo2epiDWQQD-atXIYEn53HfvLhVyPeaLAVgHdLDC4nWc1bM9ivrLpk-TWCZ7klr8eR_q0DITonrhqpQ/s640/989X8091-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
The snow was only shin deep in spots.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMseseT6P9qLVvsrJS36XMeTvwvnhWve_sQzORmrTYDO6m3X4ivkyYfFp9aPGICYfruJMHmnHsGNZ1AqfH4ogLZZmw-Xzv4l5ZvSoyI9rCPKD7PIq7YJe2Iwtp8RNMsFG1AuM1O3Ll-JxI/s1600/989X8092-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMseseT6P9qLVvsrJS36XMeTvwvnhWve_sQzORmrTYDO6m3X4ivkyYfFp9aPGICYfruJMHmnHsGNZ1AqfH4ogLZZmw-Xzv4l5ZvSoyI9rCPKD7PIq7YJe2Iwtp8RNMsFG1AuM1O3Ll-JxI/s400/989X8092-web.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
Which means you can easily eat while you drive.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85M8DIPrHLSFAun5T6abk2ixKllcF7twYYp_KzW0Kb8WIhnR3dkm6M6YC8q9J1xa-k9wbZZCXsdnJ41QEd-h-J8R65Xst9ug95T2GS5UOkFqQEjOks_8PtapeZhv-NX0xKm65MYWFDZsb/s1600/989X8093-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85M8DIPrHLSFAun5T6abk2ixKllcF7twYYp_KzW0Kb8WIhnR3dkm6M6YC8q9J1xa-k9wbZZCXsdnJ41QEd-h-J8R65Xst9ug95T2GS5UOkFqQEjOks_8PtapeZhv-NX0xKm65MYWFDZsb/s400/989X8093-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
**Used a chainsaw to remove fallen trees from the road.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWStB-HeyvKEA7P6gT7epwu-OCU25VzFKvz-UATFvtTYh8Y3GE34mEkeyZ5S37pgJPWbVv4IBfa3jekN6SVyuS5CzRQdrBo5BqcZufcg_o46ZtmuMc1F9bQgi2K_emnut-DeFs3GcxvH1X/s1600/989X8094-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWStB-HeyvKEA7P6gT7epwu-OCU25VzFKvz-UATFvtTYh8Y3GE34mEkeyZ5S37pgJPWbVv4IBfa3jekN6SVyuS5CzRQdrBo5BqcZufcg_o46ZtmuMc1F9bQgi2K_emnut-DeFs3GcxvH1X/s400/989X8094-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Big trees.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZJw1UuSUK9XAg_IBXmbhqrKxEv0mF_TSRZZDM3uhrcTwtPgXFOieOl73iUKv9XATF2SdUMUx5-Jt3hSHSSKqa_0ZruMSr0hOgPJ3Pg900PBLT4muhyphenhyphenq-MC_PE2W8YRj9GYTrq5RtZbvt/s1600/989X8096-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZJw1UuSUK9XAg_IBXmbhqrKxEv0mF_TSRZZDM3uhrcTwtPgXFOieOl73iUKv9XATF2SdUMUx5-Jt3hSHSSKqa_0ZruMSr0hOgPJ3Pg900PBLT4muhyphenhyphenq-MC_PE2W8YRj9GYTrq5RtZbvt/s640/989X8096-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
**Ridden a mountain bike while wearing snow pants.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-hheNJyQ_YyOtM8eerOy3v_d21q5Pjo06YX_8_EIYUQY95zscWVHFGEtZE3pk2Q5Z_2ZAEVEjxkZwJupD2s8k59Z4SL02inAZLsSB9CbbsV9rvJD7Hok0Qtp0cMwt63mwwq54NOnKZmt/s1600/989X8101-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-hheNJyQ_YyOtM8eerOy3v_d21q5Pjo06YX_8_EIYUQY95zscWVHFGEtZE3pk2Q5Z_2ZAEVEjxkZwJupD2s8k59Z4SL02inAZLsSB9CbbsV9rvJD7Hok0Qtp0cMwt63mwwq54NOnKZmt/s640/989X8101-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
It was a rather steep grade. I'd say about 2 million percent.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cV7JJmvly0XkxCuayJUXeYIx2W3dSWd7Pd_JSPyEAZ2t1wusv-0ZMctpIYYv1u1Np8jl4EcdCLRMtBYmByWE7cGJr2qy8mKBsUzTyeag42d88M6_7qMUnH7Yb6F-tB-VNZr_YjPoHqDW/s1600/989X8102-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cV7JJmvly0XkxCuayJUXeYIx2W3dSWd7Pd_JSPyEAZ2t1wusv-0ZMctpIYYv1u1Np8jl4EcdCLRMtBYmByWE7cGJr2qy8mKBsUzTyeag42d88M6_7qMUnH7Yb6F-tB-VNZr_YjPoHqDW/s400/989X8102-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>**Panned for gold. (Cody's pan pictured.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUtO9NG0lx-bRMtXMbqG__Do24V8bflP07rVW1gHnefBL78pjCICO_1Zqvz408J7ck-L9DfBkPstfl3MaCe9rnn9ku2KOHLkMlTw2KvpHFQ647CJ6omb1AMZYp4tNHYnw7ieLoOdxJLEnk/s1600/989X8109-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUtO9NG0lx-bRMtXMbqG__Do24V8bflP07rVW1gHnefBL78pjCICO_1Zqvz408J7ck-L9DfBkPstfl3MaCe9rnn9ku2KOHLkMlTw2KvpHFQ647CJ6omb1AMZYp4tNHYnw7ieLoOdxJLEnk/s400/989X8109-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Nor have I seen more gold in a day's first pan. (Cody makes it look easy.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKGil02ohpcmNTY45Oc2TGIxbrEu6CxVbh8jj803mHUOLVfxPOZj10GxfwQXR0ARoRvZXueuz808DFjNYVslT97ZmdWIkjbc_jyVz78D0ZiS9V3RUJTUVe7QBF2HeCOVJpqA5XscbIf-8/s1600/989X8108-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKGil02ohpcmNTY45Oc2TGIxbrEu6CxVbh8jj803mHUOLVfxPOZj10GxfwQXR0ARoRvZXueuz808DFjNYVslT97ZmdWIkjbc_jyVz78D0ZiS9V3RUJTUVe7QBF2HeCOVJpqA5XscbIf-8/s640/989X8108-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
**Been so happy to see .1 grams of gold in my own pan.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_zAj9VXpcbZNzgKWUonakojIIUmczza2S5zZtoe4kIvHLfYQr8nMiTUf__nK5r1uj29gUdvZLgH8OtZk0mUjS9ZGzoIZ4LMSYOWtzc_Eo5HrMNRwXccpSN7KKPi5BV_LXQFdcVYQ6pUnF/s1600/989X8115-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_zAj9VXpcbZNzgKWUonakojIIUmczza2S5zZtoe4kIvHLfYQr8nMiTUf__nK5r1uj29gUdvZLgH8OtZk0mUjS9ZGzoIZ4LMSYOWtzc_Eo5HrMNRwXccpSN7KKPi5BV_LXQFdcVYQ6pUnF/s400/989X8115-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
**Found a clanker in my bowl.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeFYP-9v10RmM0HCNjiJqwqkoQ-uoHiSyqP5GZkV_PtafEWtTMCFjwj6Ki_0tOJvX1-6PZkYPrVNiAe1HQufMF0sivqHepzkppvjkliuYOB1UO2EZ27MDZd2hda1QQ9dJbQ1cMafpKJAk/s1600/989X8121-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeFYP-9v10RmM0HCNjiJqwqkoQ-uoHiSyqP5GZkV_PtafEWtTMCFjwj6Ki_0tOJvX1-6PZkYPrVNiAe1HQufMF0sivqHepzkppvjkliuYOB1UO2EZ27MDZd2hda1QQ9dJbQ1cMafpKJAk/s640/989X8121-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
**Processed the gold findings using screens, funnels, whirlpools, water jets, frying pans, squirt bottles...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Pf7lKHePvSWQ5SlbLoj0c5FZD3n7cdZDhS72CXB3RIdIeUvEHPBzPTFVE-bdeEMFDE1aNgtfQuUgjeK1st5Hx-ikHua7nzCiCgZBy5X6DfJ6X9Lh3zmcJV0k0eVG9jVmVeDet8AljqcC/s1600/989X8138-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Pf7lKHePvSWQ5SlbLoj0c5FZD3n7cdZDhS72CXB3RIdIeUvEHPBzPTFVE-bdeEMFDE1aNgtfQuUgjeK1st5Hx-ikHua7nzCiCgZBy5X6DfJ6X9Lh3zmcJV0k0eVG9jVmVeDet8AljqcC/s640/989X8138-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENC504BU2WaKwM0JOsBLCJvADpkMC8kThJdpVZQ3bU7yz1-VYDtmdvf6GiYadbi4rJ5fE8-5cQeWCDRjik8pEsVPepGRVGiT-6HlmeSjmNNxiQ2yUce0MrMzeevpJFjjqpu1Usrd4ODTO/s1600/989X8124-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENC504BU2WaKwM0JOsBLCJvADpkMC8kThJdpVZQ3bU7yz1-VYDtmdvf6GiYadbi4rJ5fE8-5cQeWCDRjik8pEsVPepGRVGiT-6HlmeSjmNNxiQ2yUce0MrMzeevpJFjjqpu1Usrd4ODTO/s640/989X8124-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpzdtlalZIOA4etSkR8140oP0KKBWWW1zDe0rA9zo6z-hqf7QY_Wnp8GjcW58z1GzRZrfXzcxDCOgPzWDf-ziIZikHjNJzioK4VX6TQ5pTcoi4uIQwTatAY74Ptp-tHPEkPK7cP_KxM_A8/s1600/989X8153-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpzdtlalZIOA4etSkR8140oP0KKBWWW1zDe0rA9zo6z-hqf7QY_Wnp8GjcW58z1GzRZrfXzcxDCOgPzWDf-ziIZikHjNJzioK4VX6TQ5pTcoi4uIQwTatAY74Ptp-tHPEkPK7cP_KxM_A8/s640/989X8153-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
**Been more proud of a 1 dram bottle (~.05 ounce).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi52QB9Ibzqw1LqfOf9n6GBRJqRVoI9Nv1SSJgN1ihKe3m3RL_65AOwfGciZrawqnvCMwIzuCJ-PVZKd10m7pP9y-Vap7jXnzVrcYml06HTa74rRGdRcMTv6ZyNAurukubnsBgtKgUfjS2Y/s1600/989X8155-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi52QB9Ibzqw1LqfOf9n6GBRJqRVoI9Nv1SSJgN1ihKe3m3RL_65AOwfGciZrawqnvCMwIzuCJ-PVZKd10m7pP9y-Vap7jXnzVrcYml06HTa74rRGdRcMTv6ZyNAurukubnsBgtKgUfjS2Y/s400/989X8155-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
**Completed this many Never Befores in one day.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNqBjYS-j5bOgddT0JPoYe19PvjCQO6Wy3NGH9412xLNbWLYsgIZixq9XBaXcxnq7kEkZ2UPUHB_2j2WkZ6iwoOf8npQQH9o9XuPU6UHBolR0TYusuuizSJ_RJ4F9LBQTeb7c7bOdHwWC/s1600/989X8157-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNqBjYS-j5bOgddT0JPoYe19PvjCQO6Wy3NGH9412xLNbWLYsgIZixq9XBaXcxnq7kEkZ2UPUHB_2j2WkZ6iwoOf8npQQH9o9XuPU6UHBolR0TYusuuizSJ_RJ4F9LBQTeb7c7bOdHwWC/s640/989X8157-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
What an epic adventure.Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-53264804814072265382011-10-31T09:42:00.000-07:002011-10-31T09:42:46.397-07:00Oct 15: Westward SkyMoving West, from UT to CA.<br />
<br />
Shot these from the freeway, at speed.<br />
Aperture priority, point, shoot, hope.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPKWolb2RVhdhmFjWjzWSUCVr9wiPAzNf5i7x1pFIrvgCp-HzV1XwA4heoIJ2Y2Ls6sJme1EnOO3d0Vk61VPhEkKX5k89_sfdyOZz96PGE3IeRKvZspeyQdDipedPxx3mSb2MsTevuCJ7/s1600/989X7629-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPKWolb2RVhdhmFjWjzWSUCVr9wiPAzNf5i7x1pFIrvgCp-HzV1XwA4heoIJ2Y2Ls6sJme1EnOO3d0Vk61VPhEkKX5k89_sfdyOZz96PGE3IeRKvZspeyQdDipedPxx3mSb2MsTevuCJ7/s640/989X7629-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqjYDhH0zx7wCjOqPkamtIb0VPYnWboauHBlnHC5_cfrS8eJHTr5F1xhAKS7owsLOQN2tIoUrECpfMTE6MpYVnZ_UWWu6uBkScMXbV-44xebFj0KPblFm7L6siVsC-zqTfKms12CEuUG9/s1600/989X7653-Edit-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqjYDhH0zx7wCjOqPkamtIb0VPYnWboauHBlnHC5_cfrS8eJHTr5F1xhAKS7owsLOQN2tIoUrECpfMTE6MpYVnZ_UWWu6uBkScMXbV-44xebFj0KPblFm7L6siVsC-zqTfKms12CEuUG9/s640/989X7653-Edit-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTM4rFYu6PI8yvOIBykQGgw-cGMjZdtJaBpttJaucDKRsN0LaKVbxD2TsMgek17yc28Iod3NtWGCWeqFoz1jRmk2fhseOKKyaHO5-eh8GdRn0QEqV-YutHpuU8Hj1Kvdwlr1M4uNi-n0BF/s1600/989X7712-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTM4rFYu6PI8yvOIBykQGgw-cGMjZdtJaBpttJaucDKRsN0LaKVbxD2TsMgek17yc28Iod3NtWGCWeqFoz1jRmk2fhseOKKyaHO5-eh8GdRn0QEqV-YutHpuU8Hj1Kvdwlr1M4uNi-n0BF/s640/989X7712-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-77492850008242242362011-09-09T15:51:00.000-07:002011-09-09T15:51:07.850-07:00Sept 9: Moth's Wings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Passion Pit - Moth's Wings. Full lyrics available <a href="http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/p/passion_pit/moths_wings.html">here</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But you're just like your father</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Buried deep under the water</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You're resting on your laurels</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And stepping on my toes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVt6LQ5W1ytsx8Q4LiJAwUvUmTB5smyfftcBULCbdHVlphnXqD-OBxI_0zgj3vdqxjpAst-p-Lijq9e8fjsVO33VCOXI8OyXKJL2FW8SB37QHR1HyIc1y3SNkBVE7xj2ptg7J02Yic0T0b/s1600/IMG_3255-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVt6LQ5W1ytsx8Q4LiJAwUvUmTB5smyfftcBULCbdHVlphnXqD-OBxI_0zgj3vdqxjpAst-p-Lijq9e8fjsVO33VCOXI8OyXKJL2FW8SB37QHR1HyIc1y3SNkBVE7xj2ptg7J02Yic0T0b/s640/IMG_3255-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Whose side are you on?</div><div style="text-align: center;">What side is this anyways?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBJw_-NnPX5piDN-KTiYo_LrZK0uclamd8PJcGw02hfqJMa0a896EVo3H9THavZTpuboDwviKMvMwnht2VBh5Dbj-gqP1Yyrb0YB4jmkuYco9yrOQf1dctdT3CfHsdZJ63jLj65d17G9C/s1600/IMG_3254-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBJw_-NnPX5piDN-KTiYo_LrZK0uclamd8PJcGw02hfqJMa0a896EVo3H9THavZTpuboDwviKMvMwnht2VBh5Dbj-gqP1Yyrb0YB4jmkuYco9yrOQf1dctdT3CfHsdZJ63jLj65d17G9C/s640/IMG_3254-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Put down your sword and crown</div><div style="text-align: center;">Come lay with me on the ground</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">...............</div><br />
Don't worry. It's not dead. We'll send 'er back outside this evening.<br />
<br />
Settings:<br />
Image 1 & 2: f/22, 15s, ISO 100, 50d, 105mm.<br />
Image 3: f/5.6, 1.5s, ISO 100, 1Dm3, 300mm.<br />
Tripod, macro slide rail, shutter release, extension tubes, patience.Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-90524557431630782022011-08-25T14:41:00.000-07:002011-08-25T14:41:53.682-07:00Aug 13: Fish OnWith the family in Quincy CA.<br />
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The boys sure love fishing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1hdAzJI82XMdEU2cU31lT1QDFpumxo-8pNgCM6Z-qxfhGrt7lDLxsGN9SJsxv5zBieSp77cTWgnFYYzEJy5oTJbNtZ4ksCM5YLtsHcU-rLqsWd53UD77m4e5R7b1OTCfj83vZJP3sfMPl/s1600/989X5711-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1hdAzJI82XMdEU2cU31lT1QDFpumxo-8pNgCM6Z-qxfhGrt7lDLxsGN9SJsxv5zBieSp77cTWgnFYYzEJy5oTJbNtZ4ksCM5YLtsHcU-rLqsWd53UD77m4e5R7b1OTCfj83vZJP3sfMPl/s640/989X5711-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
And they catch 'em too, including this lunker largemouth, assisted by uncle Cody.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneMDR9Bu2_V0ri_cl0VjceGM3vqpORkZsXvct1JGw_CLZJtKi81bEzwhcRmWztBth9MQCP9C0gF8Qc6O2zGOQ0YsgK7-mU8Dfymho-Mju4UIowGol8l0C2_op-qIFJCd_WaPDQ-nxgqL0/s1600/989X5701-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneMDR9Bu2_V0ri_cl0VjceGM3vqpORkZsXvct1JGw_CLZJtKi81bEzwhcRmWztBth9MQCP9C0gF8Qc6O2zGOQ0YsgK7-mU8Dfymho-Mju4UIowGol8l0C2_op-qIFJCd_WaPDQ-nxgqL0/s640/989X5701-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Vanessa tried fly fishing for the first time, with instruction from fish guide Andrew.<br />
First cast.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXXqA24qUTUcWggx3AnRkwmD5zbda3Yzh4LR-UoiRpT_8qHunB3BJMxs2DFbKd5yyJtV6FPbwS_EMYbF1q_dR-P7S3W4VaLZzu58fnyCkoLISDKVA1iuZFlrBdKXP6oBuLRjWCwDES5YL8/s1600/989X5766-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXXqA24qUTUcWggx3AnRkwmD5zbda3Yzh4LR-UoiRpT_8qHunB3BJMxs2DFbKd5yyJtV6FPbwS_EMYbF1q_dR-P7S3W4VaLZzu58fnyCkoLISDKVA1iuZFlrBdKXP6oBuLRjWCwDES5YL8/s640/989X5766-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Fish on!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVtTGlztpin4cqVfRTApQb08P13CQ_IRKDJ_cEFwUJ8ZAKrpp6v-Z9IHjw0KjaMKJ7p7EA2kCQnFv7EbtENi-l2jmac4wdqZ5eIHf68qyiSvHHbit_UWedZmYMy8SLfIlIX-BB3-Vwypo/s1600/989X5794-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVtTGlztpin4cqVfRTApQb08P13CQ_IRKDJ_cEFwUJ8ZAKrpp6v-Z9IHjw0KjaMKJ7p7EA2kCQnFv7EbtENi-l2jmac4wdqZ5eIHf68qyiSvHHbit_UWedZmYMy8SLfIlIX-BB3-Vwypo/s640/989X5794-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
She landed a few.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zi1uG0Ujx5h7_vkum0Qi6jaZhIU5RH4UIUO4E6kYTCzK8lDTiLTK_58Z1DK5Ez_HCTBvjykeZB0kLzIRjRDQeJysWY5vEnrpf8RKCWwTPpMWJIiuxAMGdDpCnhIAWeXAvXI9xwQghZdV/s1600/989X5828-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zi1uG0Ujx5h7_vkum0Qi6jaZhIU5RH4UIUO4E6kYTCzK8lDTiLTK_58Z1DK5Ez_HCTBvjykeZB0kLzIRjRDQeJysWY5vEnrpf8RKCWwTPpMWJIiuxAMGdDpCnhIAWeXAvXI9xwQghZdV/s640/989X5828-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Rippin' lips.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-u5J1_0ityPmm1MHGlzib_bsIEq_chG2X3TwqKl-zwoVqQVs-P0_d8hTeKTK9CJcmRlFGvbupU4eYOn_Wh2_uh20aIZD93-igNzFSR8BPI8DSYFbf651sHf9pKSC8lbM0HjDbV1CayI2/s1600/989X5835-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-u5J1_0ityPmm1MHGlzib_bsIEq_chG2X3TwqKl-zwoVqQVs-P0_d8hTeKTK9CJcmRlFGvbupU4eYOn_Wh2_uh20aIZD93-igNzFSR8BPI8DSYFbf651sHf9pKSC8lbM0HjDbV1CayI2/s640/989X5835-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-90171170988709230492011-08-25T14:00:00.000-07:002011-08-25T14:00:57.402-07:00Aug 22: Night ClimbWe spent the evening climbing.<div>Sunset - Twilight - Dusk - Night.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>7:57pm</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr2LNUmXxrWk6FIu4wjLy0Iav4tzjDNTX8NVH3bPSCPhRja_qzFLNiI1wX35eBZAH__7rIWvtFWAX9gnK00MvUDXWvAoADsDZbJc_tLvnP2PBRjeFhugKqRh2hBcp7QlJBZxMLwT5xv9mB/s1600/989X5866-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr2LNUmXxrWk6FIu4wjLy0Iav4tzjDNTX8NVH3bPSCPhRja_qzFLNiI1wX35eBZAH__7rIWvtFWAX9gnK00MvUDXWvAoADsDZbJc_tLvnP2PBRjeFhugKqRh2hBcp7QlJBZxMLwT5xv9mB/s640/989X5866-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div> 8:24pm<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2tqPu5zLrmVG-QVrN8_AbhSFnNlZPCz0InhaYmmQl6tKk1MdHG5jZk-pQPXSYvlGerhjiyeD-HS8ZG8A8zztXu5PVIk11PvL5jkioiIJ9bjH9WKwQosTiqxb_iM7OaG82rZnNxoFkie9/s1600/989X6064-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2tqPu5zLrmVG-QVrN8_AbhSFnNlZPCz0InhaYmmQl6tKk1MdHG5jZk-pQPXSYvlGerhjiyeD-HS8ZG8A8zztXu5PVIk11PvL5jkioiIJ9bjH9WKwQosTiqxb_iM7OaG82rZnNxoFkie9/s640/989X6064-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div> 8:54pm<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwe4aYE9BRYNui6Em_MBU6I7Va15irbP5wlOM9qZCEKPLOTjvmuBrt3ewvSJWRTm7KYXjarTBM_pUlS62ga9rdzgrVhKDkd8d5MUSOJiN_XR5TgRqftm4f4Dsq_tLXuqgWo_0ExlPYCjZ/s1600/989X6357-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwe4aYE9BRYNui6Em_MBU6I7Va15irbP5wlOM9qZCEKPLOTjvmuBrt3ewvSJWRTm7KYXjarTBM_pUlS62ga9rdzgrVhKDkd8d5MUSOJiN_XR5TgRqftm4f4Dsq_tLXuqgWo_0ExlPYCjZ/s640/989X6357-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div> 9:25pm<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYHX59_pbdYnd3nXSdxDfRmQIiajrYZMnjV9_JXLSvu8N9C8xFOWRxGp-P8EOgKLxPThAirhLLSABW-gKdDZZ4ik0EvR0pqovatexdzBECD7iWDqITxETIw5tSQnMLEjvBgqvgw2eNQSA/s1600/Rock_Star_Grow_001-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYHX59_pbdYnd3nXSdxDfRmQIiajrYZMnjV9_JXLSvu8N9C8xFOWRxGp-P8EOgKLxPThAirhLLSABW-gKdDZZ4ik0EvR0pqovatexdzBECD7iWDqITxETIw5tSQnMLEjvBgqvgw2eNQSA/s640/Rock_Star_Grow_001-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>I shot an additional 700 frames. I'm working on a composite timelapse.</div></div>Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-37815116641569519892011-08-25T13:44:00.000-07:002011-08-25T13:44:38.820-07:00Aug 24: Water Ski<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I shot waterskiing for the first time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9BUh92aa-rv7aD1Ub4qijn8D-5pjoN1s8RquMZPmAn6xcatIaTiC_4SHz8A5pgUi2Q5XjQ5mLR1aT8SL_Jns-m_d7T6bFSGSNXbufr0PjEW98RXJEFzcseC5GSZymFMOt3UYwEsTjThul/s1600/989X6619-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9BUh92aa-rv7aD1Ub4qijn8D-5pjoN1s8RquMZPmAn6xcatIaTiC_4SHz8A5pgUi2Q5XjQ5mLR1aT8SL_Jns-m_d7T6bFSGSNXbufr0PjEW98RXJEFzcseC5GSZymFMOt3UYwEsTjThul/s640/989X6619-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
The light wasn't great, but it gave me an opportunity to test out the angles.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4ecYv1BttEHl-sMrfFZRcWk4SL-tyGcK6iwRrAMP_uJa-xloNNefLw4-VlpkdMvhV1Vx3IxgQVbqyJvvTARhwZ2lezjf41IepvRLvgBG8OdSxgHtPCJJ-GZbqDGmWXToJDdGTMg8LXQP/s1600/989X6824-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4ecYv1BttEHl-sMrfFZRcWk4SL-tyGcK6iwRrAMP_uJa-xloNNefLw4-VlpkdMvhV1Vx3IxgQVbqyJvvTARhwZ2lezjf41IepvRLvgBG8OdSxgHtPCJJ-GZbqDGmWXToJDdGTMg8LXQP/s640/989X6824-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Here's one of my mistakes that turned out okay.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZS4Y1SfkjhqLbBrrAxhi6mTdFX_svdPXXeYEHpwSStIMfGVXrpUhbWU-H-ti68L20IgTnIfu1me6nlbo7S00lsx_Ym9T2b8q9gcPJE-Yy81w5gZ1JhhtkY5EFXn6kx-Fv3FPGlx_-NEfJ/s1600/989X6997-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZS4Y1SfkjhqLbBrrAxhi6mTdFX_svdPXXeYEHpwSStIMfGVXrpUhbWU-H-ti68L20IgTnIfu1me6nlbo7S00lsx_Ym9T2b8q9gcPJE-Yy81w5gZ1JhhtkY5EFXn6kx-Fv3FPGlx_-NEfJ/s640/989X6997-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
And a mistake of a different kind.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWDts1yIfOviji1zHZuTZhsqTpR08fRL95tq8h_kJyWLJx_-in3U27c9L6JJHR5bi3p1fY8LCflkI4c-4J67kSNsuqAuRPmrciUUv69h3y4cAKPmr4K7PfFFqwbVPDZNCo-muptwmZd8Z/s1600/989X6902-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWDts1yIfOviji1zHZuTZhsqTpR08fRL95tq8h_kJyWLJx_-in3U27c9L6JJHR5bi3p1fY8LCflkI4c-4J67kSNsuqAuRPmrciUUv69h3y4cAKPmr4K7PfFFqwbVPDZNCo-muptwmZd8Z/s640/989X6902-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
I got the hang of it towards the end, but it got quite dark.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMf3pO2wMrtCZk2HinOPtOCx7FuLiBveJ2Sg7WthHgI_kinqDIWuXzTEjb8tk2SqcieZRaK6AIE0T9Pz55-qMTjVRYaMp8_m8sYyTyyadEmlzrfH8Hbd__FixsO_cHCWTyWiQeioKdMLK/s1600/989X7132-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMf3pO2wMrtCZk2HinOPtOCx7FuLiBveJ2Sg7WthHgI_kinqDIWuXzTEjb8tk2SqcieZRaK6AIE0T9Pz55-qMTjVRYaMp8_m8sYyTyyadEmlzrfH8Hbd__FixsO_cHCWTyWiQeioKdMLK/s640/989X7132-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Just for kicks, I tried a strobe.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0VXq_PY5F6kzx2h5BHVW2N2ztP150p4rPmD89ltt1LNXmoikXMFWepCQLI4sswZ8Ry3Q_MtS5AL3HXKzmi5Stb4gJfxT6iUm41bi_KZ8ZWnCX611vYEsmGwwHdBiLU3VQtwroLrzGP_4/s1600/989X7164-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0VXq_PY5F6kzx2h5BHVW2N2ztP150p4rPmD89ltt1LNXmoikXMFWepCQLI4sswZ8Ry3Q_MtS5AL3HXKzmi5Stb4gJfxT6iUm41bi_KZ8ZWnCX611vYEsmGwwHdBiLU3VQtwroLrzGP_4/s640/989X7164-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Bumping the ISO let me shoot in the low light, but shortly after this it became hard to see the buoys.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQE0q4s0buTY4X5JkdsCEFIt3mTLzqW2SFp3mWts58oLT4lt1O7ieOrU3iKJVQKgOKTVAI68qHBGikI50inP3PiNUuiNxge_kJLeFJ8lkK6qnRy8yckZsgjghVCbQqGweX-O3UCqyrZQBC/s1600/989X7173-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQE0q4s0buTY4X5JkdsCEFIt3mTLzqW2SFp3mWts58oLT4lt1O7ieOrU3iKJVQKgOKTVAI68qHBGikI50inP3PiNUuiNxge_kJLeFJ8lkK6qnRy8yckZsgjghVCbQqGweX-O3UCqyrZQBC/s640/989X7173-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Next time, in good light, we'll get some better shots.Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-12454447564352305572011-08-16T10:16:00.000-07:002011-08-16T10:16:04.996-07:00July 4: Fire Works4th of July in CA.<br />
<br />
Teaching the kids how fire works.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EDFEA0X9h9MWJ6wET5q5thNzCdasd34KhMtRei0eFQDLdr5SZgTqldp-zY0MUwKDpigSQFU7sUJ4Cw7UDLzUJtOI4JVIEKhLKI_gl82jiiZwDJWG_9zRkQZ-L_l1-HtNE_D82idM8L4B/s1600/989X2101-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EDFEA0X9h9MWJ6wET5q5thNzCdasd34KhMtRei0eFQDLdr5SZgTqldp-zY0MUwKDpigSQFU7sUJ4Cw7UDLzUJtOI4JVIEKhLKI_gl82jiiZwDJWG_9zRkQZ-L_l1-HtNE_D82idM8L4B/s640/989X2101-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Duck..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CfhKlx1Bb2iJxr3OxYX6Z_KvI9OoPKB1s8gHRqvRVYr-gUN6htVVfOY-YDyDszO52PP4r8bqpQCoCckLphTb0Qr1o2_qE1STI_N8_GcVjpxQcCQOAX35DQT1tnZsdmQ0bW1O52qjf0_g/s1600/989X1908-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CfhKlx1Bb2iJxr3OxYX6Z_KvI9OoPKB1s8gHRqvRVYr-gUN6htVVfOY-YDyDszO52PP4r8bqpQCoCckLphTb0Qr1o2_qE1STI_N8_GcVjpxQcCQOAX35DQT1tnZsdmQ0bW1O52qjf0_g/s400/989X1908-web.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
Duck..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN0qHfwXz-6Qgw_V29weYxwTuKshe8JnClZ7vNw-f7AKux41aqYcie_Uf__MPSjk_bIpKbhVpGNImODCigXmIe_T2xfnzAp_eYyInVRdLSpHlf3F7TMXMyldaU9PZdLKNLQweLB7FItHvf/s1600/989X1853-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN0qHfwXz-6Qgw_V29weYxwTuKshe8JnClZ7vNw-f7AKux41aqYcie_Uf__MPSjk_bIpKbhVpGNImODCigXmIe_T2xfnzAp_eYyInVRdLSpHlf3F7TMXMyldaU9PZdLKNLQweLB7FItHvf/s400/989X1853-web.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
Goose!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5pmsw8MhZc47pzQciH3L0CP8nibkqQBcUOGaIeOascDWPIUVlEvjdZcLnCldKXfFJxOY-agy4sZQx477RetBVZu6yCenj83Sad5XvdsvvJkAHQBOj7_0ZvRLWt-CKgnBNe40cz8C4EQc/s1600/989X1862-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5pmsw8MhZc47pzQciH3L0CP8nibkqQBcUOGaIeOascDWPIUVlEvjdZcLnCldKXfFJxOY-agy4sZQx477RetBVZu6yCenj83Sad5XvdsvvJkAHQBOj7_0ZvRLWt-CKgnBNe40cz8C4EQc/s400/989X1862-web.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
....rat?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixscKWX_CMSwYQ7Tav2gzF3vZzho5QA_9-g-jj4lX-KCtm_huYNxcxaIq40TTHuFPcvg1ZZG9LVZ7a0ObP2pgbk9Y76j644HfqjN_CUcS2caISEvJL9OR6uMql24ZWuawoC58wWV4yiKPF/s1600/989X1846-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixscKWX_CMSwYQ7Tav2gzF3vZzho5QA_9-g-jj4lX-KCtm_huYNxcxaIq40TTHuFPcvg1ZZG9LVZ7a0ObP2pgbk9Y76j644HfqjN_CUcS2caISEvJL9OR6uMql24ZWuawoC58wWV4yiKPF/s400/989X1846-web.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
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Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-79174379676216657082011-08-16T09:59:00.000-07:002011-08-16T09:59:04.947-07:00June 21: Bora BoraHoneymoon in Bora Bora<br />
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First, we learned that '<i>Doritos</i>' in French is the same as '<i>Doritos</i>' in English. Who would'a thought?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZy9OmSvS6Q5KtyXIqJnE2exsAIuNQIqCzAQ3xVZezt0jQaudtfAvQzYki0z4IAqwE3DQjLdNTgqG83CKI-XasVxPw-ejk_3I-Lho5LGvy6ENhcPMMN5vej8NsxqK8QGqVGJGwBCApP2W_/s1600/IMG_0410-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZy9OmSvS6Q5KtyXIqJnE2exsAIuNQIqCzAQ3xVZezt0jQaudtfAvQzYki0z4IAqwE3DQjLdNTgqG83CKI-XasVxPw-ejk_3I-Lho5LGvy6ENhcPMMN5vej8NsxqK8QGqVGJGwBCApP2W_/s640/IMG_0410-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
After that mistake, things got much better:<br />
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Champagne.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEw6agD5onroZe1P4jTCwuXH4j8TyhYtvYdyhKF-MjjA2kW2Gzmc54fqKYtqYVqWonCYGygPu3eV450vGNtQKzPqomljRIoxJeVOW0Qto-5ByVwBUCFZ-m9TxZqfd0689nANo9W-ASRaO/s1600/IMG_0445-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEw6agD5onroZe1P4jTCwuXH4j8TyhYtvYdyhKF-MjjA2kW2Gzmc54fqKYtqYVqWonCYGygPu3eV450vGNtQKzPqomljRIoxJeVOW0Qto-5ByVwBUCFZ-m9TxZqfd0689nANo9W-ASRaO/s640/IMG_0445-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And sunsets.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7eh4hxmghH6ryISFiY9D0eKeS1GCXwg80ZDH4AFyVgtzBdAzBpZbaaiQuL67Xet1tr-B-VR6H3ERE9T1VG7WM4YDm7IQYjVL3ElHqz4pkY5ZWEsAUd8QAUl8TfyGsZNn1alX-t-7N2Sp/s1600/989X1725-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7eh4hxmghH6ryISFiY9D0eKeS1GCXwg80ZDH4AFyVgtzBdAzBpZbaaiQuL67Xet1tr-B-VR6H3ERE9T1VG7WM4YDm7IQYjVL3ElHqz4pkY5ZWEsAUd8QAUl8TfyGsZNn1alX-t-7N2Sp/s640/989X1725-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
At the sunset bar.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRKxqBTcpKYGcXw3oqEvXkTdoVHO-7ZsblyC8CGDPCjvlT6mjZOUPHWllDQJHpL7DBXHa2CkBYlTkssYHnv3pqrkp24YRBCiiCbS2ZQBlIZ3VUhOBS9N2Rv62UJVuPCxNTXbK6Or3ta-e/s1600/IMG_0471-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRKxqBTcpKYGcXw3oqEvXkTdoVHO-7ZsblyC8CGDPCjvlT6mjZOUPHWllDQJHpL7DBXHa2CkBYlTkssYHnv3pqrkp24YRBCiiCbS2ZQBlIZ3VUhOBS9N2Rv62UJVuPCxNTXbK6Or3ta-e/s640/IMG_0471-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
A bathtub for 2.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUAEwUuvq1v1gffdKhxXFwlVv5-JPJj0rRqYjDjwRrFNxjCufxMFfqJgg-6fWlWysbzXUVLnO27VvdV6pnA7Cqm9OxTCtwWB51MnLQWG1xH91JHiiSsX8difu-eEGypRZRhUpEadeHZD4W/s1600/IMG_0512-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUAEwUuvq1v1gffdKhxXFwlVv5-JPJj0rRqYjDjwRrFNxjCufxMFfqJgg-6fWlWysbzXUVLnO27VvdV6pnA7Cqm9OxTCtwWB51MnLQWG1xH91JHiiSsX8difu-eEGypRZRhUpEadeHZD4W/s640/IMG_0512-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Swimming with the fishes.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifVwXjm4gJArqJBZWpbvBKfeXSZHV92FVZloJcpwHT-3zK3nT5FKwdJOApRPPkAT_jtOAjGgqh35DSIenD0rD2iQcAoH9y-V8-vE8Q2GjNn07_yZ0oOpPx-VBFCHqJ32U5SQXENcvRcyo/s1600/IMG_0621-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifVwXjm4gJArqJBZWpbvBKfeXSZHV92FVZloJcpwHT-3zK3nT5FKwdJOApRPPkAT_jtOAjGgqh35DSIenD0rD2iQcAoH9y-V8-vE8Q2GjNn07_yZ0oOpPx-VBFCHqJ32U5SQXENcvRcyo/s640/IMG_0621-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmt_-U18kvO7Z3xQVxCQHBlELUXgwuZfqrpH3Z4o9sq7EbKewe0OUn_CaRmEIsRLGrcAb9kf368xbIv2xu8qGfeqMrCbT-mAwpU-Su3_dBsjmayqlsG4oMjCJd-IDoL7LF3aqfNlF4f0hn/s1600/IMG_0611-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmt_-U18kvO7Z3xQVxCQHBlELUXgwuZfqrpH3Z4o9sq7EbKewe0OUn_CaRmEIsRLGrcAb9kf368xbIv2xu8qGfeqMrCbT-mAwpU-Su3_dBsjmayqlsG4oMjCJd-IDoL7LF3aqfNlF4f0hn/s640/IMG_0611-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
And petting the 'rays.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJl5RNgJGKHQdULvgjmLILwFKS7IA_O_Y3sofZZG5JSgvERzNP4QYs4ELpoai03yl-rAK79q4ra1XBXCUEp9QR7LxG5EUirc4McWym-jUyNfpnT9yaBO9bmmy_Otwau7wHB1ijuWxmDoA/s1600/IMG_0656-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJl5RNgJGKHQdULvgjmLILwFKS7IA_O_Y3sofZZG5JSgvERzNP4QYs4ELpoai03yl-rAK79q4ra1XBXCUEp9QR7LxG5EUirc4McWym-jUyNfpnT9yaBO9bmmy_Otwau7wHB1ijuWxmDoA/s640/IMG_0656-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Blue skies.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOUy_eCsY60sCv-6ouN3sdSU4-MVGPuLBEzQ37cGG5O35PTKevhXrMU7VIgfJwcXYpxlfOPAMiIHA_xTiEI-sVtSo8llb7axSRxKTnbmMgMR35MATz_v4intjr5alP4LOqXOcGno-TfEv/s1600/989X1815-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOUy_eCsY60sCv-6ouN3sdSU4-MVGPuLBEzQ37cGG5O35PTKevhXrMU7VIgfJwcXYpxlfOPAMiIHA_xTiEI-sVtSo8llb7axSRxKTnbmMgMR35MATz_v4intjr5alP4LOqXOcGno-TfEv/s640/989X1815-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
And coco drinks.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixoGpcOTH-j76ov89l004s-Ejm9BPSP9Mf1UiOZQInZvp_Sdw4YjATAFNSZ_VPcX3Bv18HoNatPZtE8ULmsM-1DJvJ-ZiBj1As_TyPSnqM6nGN7-veK2rjt2DHr4CCilkn3sRJZ36VY3Wu/s1600/IMG_0528-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixoGpcOTH-j76ov89l004s-Ejm9BPSP9Mf1UiOZQInZvp_Sdw4YjATAFNSZ_VPcX3Bv18HoNatPZtE8ULmsM-1DJvJ-ZiBj1As_TyPSnqM6nGN7-veK2rjt2DHr4CCilkn3sRJZ36VY3Wu/s640/IMG_0528-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>On a sunset cruise.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszT16vdOt4MJt3hR4xsOIiz2Ow4X_Z_xpL6LTKKqzeaHXSqTrKgmmdgie1aMcXzlkvdl78rPG8CRZyQZ0g3zUdm-RXmmHhgXgAtFX6wYocY3hhMN49uv2_gnfvsPsRVIxe__K654vVhyphenhyphenr/s1600/IMG_0539-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszT16vdOt4MJt3hR4xsOIiz2Ow4X_Z_xpL6LTKKqzeaHXSqTrKgmmdgie1aMcXzlkvdl78rPG8CRZyQZ0g3zUdm-RXmmHhgXgAtFX6wYocY3hhMN49uv2_gnfvsPsRVIxe__K654vVhyphenhyphenr/s640/IMG_0539-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
A glass of wine.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0sprmeTbdxBoHK9tL-UK_ypTIjUzNgfAFwcPAAlHamua5MnIrj7dIO-atTnErwunnZZCXL9QHwrOQaudm92mme_ty4qbZAmtWHBKTKSaAMmTfAvleIO2lvg8tDE57DvQ1VIy8v6m75au/s1600/IMG_0491-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0sprmeTbdxBoHK9tL-UK_ypTIjUzNgfAFwcPAAlHamua5MnIrj7dIO-atTnErwunnZZCXL9QHwrOQaudm92mme_ty4qbZAmtWHBKTKSaAMmTfAvleIO2lvg8tDE57DvQ1VIy8v6m75au/s640/IMG_0491-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Under the stars.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJjdvfFMDj95peXZ3EY8lPMT8r2392SujdBP6TsKWTk2AnLwYFfVGLE_eT3u3GjAZbUmo67QlurEVmUwTRCcXXPxNe7w3ICzmaX0lnAfdEd8koRoIcnwoWaMpLvv6we0tueL_WAy3cE-r/s1600/989X1744-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJjdvfFMDj95peXZ3EY8lPMT8r2392SujdBP6TsKWTk2AnLwYFfVGLE_eT3u3GjAZbUmo67QlurEVmUwTRCcXXPxNe7w3ICzmaX0lnAfdEd8koRoIcnwoWaMpLvv6we0tueL_WAy3cE-r/s640/989X1744-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-25368879122614062942011-06-12T10:11:00.000-07:002011-06-12T10:11:13.643-07:00June 11: Night GameI took a 300mm to the Bees (AAA) game, intending to shoot some motion blur baseball action.<br />
<br />
We saw some pitching.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwD_uwEUXVDtIlgHH0NvT07GJ6xSRBC69LTU3MZuFl2ZgmN4YNwL7HdgArR-mBIDqEITGzPY0szjeWpg1ngdP9SjwrxUlu_eOT8wjXjRoLqP4ZMlJPgrhJFp3xvGjjti3j7brL7iD8r2F/s1600/989X1409-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwD_uwEUXVDtIlgHH0NvT07GJ6xSRBC69LTU3MZuFl2ZgmN4YNwL7HdgArR-mBIDqEITGzPY0szjeWpg1ngdP9SjwrxUlu_eOT8wjXjRoLqP4ZMlJPgrhJFp3xvGjjti3j7brL7iD8r2F/s640/989X1409-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWpqCFaiZYoCtf-4vn0LGVjm0atNXmvGWvwB83RK-Tt67hI49W8ZkuJtqklnRqM1yQ2SLJLZ4ffI6AFar20I_DFsLD0uUbo6-6zXEk-oBF4_3Rlqpyllhqtt5lJXuOl3hMO5ql5hBEoQS/s1600/989X1467-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWpqCFaiZYoCtf-4vn0LGVjm0atNXmvGWvwB83RK-Tt67hI49W8ZkuJtqklnRqM1yQ2SLJLZ4ffI6AFar20I_DFsLD0uUbo6-6zXEk-oBF4_3Rlqpyllhqtt5lJXuOl3hMO5ql5hBEoQS/s640/989X1467-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Some running.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyU_RDBNMsrO10yVCp5iALpcRjSjdCNUo4jNfYNjfPICf1PDXO2-UBIE4jrPBb4hw19j4siqxZG7iZkeiKJs98iTdVqSTQhuRSz7B84lpzSeU1PaL64Q4ajotlsFNl417Jzgo74IMBXlSc/s1600/989X1508-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyU_RDBNMsrO10yVCp5iALpcRjSjdCNUo4jNfYNjfPICf1PDXO2-UBIE4jrPBb4hw19j4siqxZG7iZkeiKJs98iTdVqSTQhuRSz7B84lpzSeU1PaL64Q4ajotlsFNl417Jzgo74IMBXlSc/s640/989X1508-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
And some hitting.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFEjwk6wchek5KozL6jksLWA_Vhe9rru0K_o3YQuX2IGDLCurah19SL6IJwKUdadFjDNXnuhKbaQpkfBml-G8nFjFHNWxNZFkycTFnhyVEO_Mbgb-PEPKYgSGy4LYCA1Gh8VLPJGu7asf/s1600/989X1515-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFEjwk6wchek5KozL6jksLWA_Vhe9rru0K_o3YQuX2IGDLCurah19SL6IJwKUdadFjDNXnuhKbaQpkfBml-G8nFjFHNWxNZFkycTFnhyVEO_Mbgb-PEPKYgSGy4LYCA1Gh8VLPJGu7asf/s640/989X1515-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Shutter speeds 1/10 - 1/30.<br />
<br />
In the last image, hitting, the ball leaves a trail as it changes direction through impact. It's the precise timing I was hoping for, (very difficult), but it's not sharp enough. Next time: tripod.Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-11364505908058795942011-05-26T22:59:00.000-07:002011-05-26T22:59:02.327-07:00May 26: Thumb ThornDoing yard work.<br />
Grabbed a rose stem.<br />
Stabbed by a thorn.<br />
<br />
10 hours later... when the inflammation was rising, along with the pain...<br />
Spent 15 minutes digging with tweezers.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tn1KK6opPZx0GS2n1VZg9vH2qVVE5tUUZHHxtl0Lg1j1ZvKyO-Ku-osSZP4Wax6G_f0v5usxRl7EnLSHS4AtzQrukZD1c1EYFroZ84aKMRgmhyphenhyphen-AnrRQFK3RsLyl-uz0-sO78nlyq6OC/s1600/989X1219-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tn1KK6opPZx0GS2n1VZg9vH2qVVE5tUUZHHxtl0Lg1j1ZvKyO-Ku-osSZP4Wax6G_f0v5usxRl7EnLSHS4AtzQrukZD1c1EYFroZ84aKMRgmhyphenhyphen-AnrRQFK3RsLyl-uz0-sO78nlyq6OC/s640/989X1219-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
(hand held macro: extension tubes, 105mm, ISO 3200, f/4.)<br />
<br />
ZOOM!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlQJDkzoQlAfbmUeS15aWy64AXkcpTjVmyKKqFqcYhd_iDdBOZX7JmkdaNR_SBZNWlOPHRnXfFHG0nmaknzV2nNcALxdrD7b_MZOm3KY_3mo71Atj6efFw63GoUCvdbnSSum2WgC_Tz73/s1600/989X1219-web-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlQJDkzoQlAfbmUeS15aWy64AXkcpTjVmyKKqFqcYhd_iDdBOZX7JmkdaNR_SBZNWlOPHRnXfFHG0nmaknzV2nNcALxdrD7b_MZOm3KY_3mo71Atj6efFw63GoUCvdbnSSum2WgC_Tz73/s640/989X1219-web-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Nearing my pain threshold, I finally gave in and let Vanessa take a turn.<br />
Instead of probing with tweezers, she squeezed it like a zit. The thorn popped right out. Took her less than 5 seconds.<br />
<br />
I must've loosened it for her....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVLRX_-LOXMkB0wOdB6Na6ZxxhMinHRrwf4Q6NQP3gT0C8OExDhf5gn13xUJbCbuT7kh0i1QiYpsHcGR2VxZcD6oq0V9DogH1UQ_7Na5s4RTWSZKcchN7TS-w9EPVf1Lk_C6s68Xm5ZHz/s1600/989X1221-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVLRX_-LOXMkB0wOdB6Na6ZxxhMinHRrwf4Q6NQP3gT0C8OExDhf5gn13xUJbCbuT7kh0i1QiYpsHcGR2VxZcD6oq0V9DogH1UQ_7Na5s4RTWSZKcchN7TS-w9EPVf1Lk_C6s68Xm5ZHz/s640/989X1221-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Final score:<br />
Rosebush - 1<br />
Jeremy - 0<br />
Vanessa - 1,000Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-4773041072336767182011-05-11T11:23:00.000-07:002011-05-11T11:26:40.717-07:00May 11: Change GearsA great thing about living in SLC is that I can ski and bike in the same day.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>A quick tour in the morning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjteCVUrGdSMl08auoN2uF5tMfo-9FVTKu5NeitovxfWVJtbe_NEBCQwP8QlezmZHp4vm5CL7G4gpghoZxT0cuYUzb1LtvGAiPJOcG0Yh5QoRCdXDktPLhVnePe9O__Ti6tit8Iwii186kw/s1600/989X0607-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjteCVUrGdSMl08auoN2uF5tMfo-9FVTKu5NeitovxfWVJtbe_NEBCQwP8QlezmZHp4vm5CL7G4gpghoZxT0cuYUzb1LtvGAiPJOcG0Yh5QoRCdXDktPLhVnePe9O__Ti6tit8Iwii186kw/s640/989X0607-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Followed by 20 miles on the bike.</div><div>(Notice the snow in the background.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHN1IXVqmPQzurm0wIS7RYX85FAABpxN7lPWPUbhDYJl_CZvQMHwcl0qNmKcqrQo-ZGdWYyKa__TTvC6Llm1OOJi9F5q85g3UY_XUBV1pa_LHVpy3n0YPwBMgCm-M0YXQgI4dLetlc94fK/s1600/989X0622-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHN1IXVqmPQzurm0wIS7RYX85FAABpxN7lPWPUbhDYJl_CZvQMHwcl0qNmKcqrQo-ZGdWYyKa__TTvC6Llm1OOJi9F5q85g3UY_XUBV1pa_LHVpy3n0YPwBMgCm-M0YXQgI4dLetlc94fK/s640/989X0622-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>The descent was cold.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfF3p5sE3u4elNUjdgtSrcet8A_DiPa9C7APr1BiJCnlcyf_eEWFab0lOERD3dxQfVkyIgmSdbx1_BaUTrrwLYcdXqA0X15hr5275riZuNJDOueQdbMTuBexCwjOhpDsybgy4iFFTqXmIG/s1600/989X0624-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfF3p5sE3u4elNUjdgtSrcet8A_DiPa9C7APr1BiJCnlcyf_eEWFab0lOERD3dxQfVkyIgmSdbx1_BaUTrrwLYcdXqA0X15hr5275riZuNJDOueQdbMTuBexCwjOhpDsybgy4iFFTqXmIG/s640/989X0624-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm working on a new camera rig. The results aren't great, yet. From the following frames, I learned a lot about what I need to improve.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9R_BVYfKrvYQwrTXMIL8uGwaTQ080Q_RTGw0WY7VyWLqhPubUsSqZ1gvuulKasDXcOx6MCNnaTgrZrVHh_XuZj7kACZn7DsPvBF_ChWcVx7LQWQ_mKe-JvCYGmag0T9rGnVYOrfVIbWsK/s1600/989X0844-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9R_BVYfKrvYQwrTXMIL8uGwaTQ080Q_RTGw0WY7VyWLqhPubUsSqZ1gvuulKasDXcOx6MCNnaTgrZrVHh_XuZj7kACZn7DsPvBF_ChWcVx7LQWQ_mKe-JvCYGmag0T9rGnVYOrfVIbWsK/s640/989X0844-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98T-A0WDniMY0MBj6qSDSIybHyjqTq4oATgu8QZFYUarj9AUFh5ScUAABc9eFjGRBIYZ3pTjUFofF_TaM3tOBDET9VHQ0v9cdMYFv2S5DC11zlNMeKieS8-kRuvprUMo2G2j3CQNiQlm1/s1600/989X1016-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98T-A0WDniMY0MBj6qSDSIybHyjqTq4oATgu8QZFYUarj9AUFh5ScUAABc9eFjGRBIYZ3pTjUFofF_TaM3tOBDET9VHQ0v9cdMYFv2S5DC11zlNMeKieS8-kRuvprUMo2G2j3CQNiQlm1/s640/989X1016-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5cWjNrBx-KtCSvHfzdydTc1bZqUGG9GJ-4LHRSjlh5w-kk-2El4EnbZgnTPPEuOj0Sp9dPOptyHYleKAdZwg4KWB6-l8vOgna1BDJvZxFYdDtc8CF18cie8UCEb7aWni0BKH92FcChEb/s1600/989X0775-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5cWjNrBx-KtCSvHfzdydTc1bZqUGG9GJ-4LHRSjlh5w-kk-2El4EnbZgnTPPEuOj0Sp9dPOptyHYleKAdZwg4KWB6-l8vOgna1BDJvZxFYdDtc8CF18cie8UCEb7aWni0BKH92FcChEb/s640/989X0775-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>The focus slipped. The shutter speed was too fast (not enough motion blur). The composition is too centered....</div><div>I can fix all of that with tape, aperture, and geometry. A bit more practice and I'll be able to get some interesting shots.</div><div>(Some nicer light wouldn't hurt either...)<br />
<br />
The next challenge is to ride 25 miles to Snowbird (+4000' gain), ski a few laps, and ride home.</div>Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-61174179524769100052011-05-04T15:36:00.000-07:002011-05-04T15:36:42.323-07:00May 4: Over ViewSorting 3696 images from the Green. It's taking a while....<br />
Here are a few that stand out so far. (Straight from camera, for quickness.)<br />
<br />
It was no first descent, but it was an exploration.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_z6pzK3ACK_8XVKsfIAZq2D9B7idIwGzLeYuHfm7hUzfUBOt0FBXN3hd3kO06TkCaS8VvR5HUu6bKyljEuC-HoXQKH1nkl5oXNaBmlr3RgQwKIiQCzzMIL4fxGjSOJCX-YKgAAsV6i7IS/s1600/989X7723-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_z6pzK3ACK_8XVKsfIAZq2D9B7idIwGzLeYuHfm7hUzfUBOt0FBXN3hd3kO06TkCaS8VvR5HUu6bKyljEuC-HoXQKH1nkl5oXNaBmlr3RgQwKIiQCzzMIL4fxGjSOJCX-YKgAAsV6i7IS/s640/989X7723-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
The crew was mostly from Alta's GMD lodge. Bunch'a skiers in the desert.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcS1MXj-Yz8uj-lb_AlP8NkCXqSnwiTyxOga5ltzDcf0WZVGq9hKnjrkTaj2HDj7Hk_RIAQru1CSFpWep6rew0OThoIr7uOavfCt-sf0UTrpzjvJ9WgrumRige0QFXbOtbgad_k_CSdPER/s1600/IMG_0397-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcS1MXj-Yz8uj-lb_AlP8NkCXqSnwiTyxOga5ltzDcf0WZVGq9hKnjrkTaj2HDj7Hk_RIAQru1CSFpWep6rew0OThoIr7uOavfCt-sf0UTrpzjvJ9WgrumRige0QFXbOtbgad_k_CSdPER/s640/IMG_0397-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
There was much laughter...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgt6qGAG7NYEw1b_cV79dWRcAOpe1JeNV6eN2Xphc_YI5fWYl9pZbMAgM43I5JujTV-9dlDa1MUBSlkPQf4z-u3eC0TUEgbTmkX1CrJK1gnK__98sw-YQbEHhCnATt7F7KwVoPDTyTpv1/s1600/IMG_0647-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgt6qGAG7NYEw1b_cV79dWRcAOpe1JeNV6eN2Xphc_YI5fWYl9pZbMAgM43I5JujTV-9dlDa1MUBSlkPQf4z-u3eC0TUEgbTmkX1CrJK1gnK__98sw-YQbEHhCnATt7F7KwVoPDTyTpv1/s640/IMG_0647-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
A bit of hiking...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZA_4l9h6v6oQM3wecWbBWivGPUEOn_QC-gDmObag05xJ5OaxAgrgFZ3rvjUIRvpPtem6GdRZicVqOtBSPBHunWdnaDOubCVjiAajF6rlF3ZYvHpgytdTwLfYZKIASh9zHgJC94aPV8T9q/s1600/989X9417-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZA_4l9h6v6oQM3wecWbBWivGPUEOn_QC-gDmObag05xJ5OaxAgrgFZ3rvjUIRvpPtem6GdRZicVqOtBSPBHunWdnaDOubCVjiAajF6rlF3ZYvHpgytdTwLfYZKIASh9zHgJC94aPV8T9q/s640/989X9417-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Some whitewater...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLv-zsl9iFwqKseOTkOe8eTwC8l9MyCOBMmYGXZLfXavtRfRwFTJ-wc5I593dtioUO1qciQ9zukvcMV8pSpCGG-4BuZmZf3Wk2IRz2ETyQZ9-wC9_-kJR-FBRZZoysmGvYCFttToC6oau/s1600/989X0161-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLv-zsl9iFwqKseOTkOe8eTwC8l9MyCOBMmYGXZLfXavtRfRwFTJ-wc5I593dtioUO1qciQ9zukvcMV8pSpCGG-4BuZmZf3Wk2IRz2ETyQZ9-wC9_-kJR-FBRZZoysmGvYCFttToC6oau/s640/989X0161-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNq2AOlFKGgwHHsTmlow8Varf4MI-401SHkue-lmigbn8AdggBYtcIUWq8moDIDq0l6WFvWD0R142kzn98JLJaTL3Wxq_cwzPzexAYtrSS7hre3_oIbpIbWbhdjd3ryEcYj3FT6Lfgz9f/s1600/989X0282-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNq2AOlFKGgwHHsTmlow8Varf4MI-401SHkue-lmigbn8AdggBYtcIUWq8moDIDq0l6WFvWD0R142kzn98JLJaTL3Wxq_cwzPzexAYtrSS7hre3_oIbpIbWbhdjd3ryEcYj3FT6Lfgz9f/s640/989X0282-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Fun around the fire...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFY1Cc58n_TFdSay4hQ2QKDpzC0-9ESwUXKSNM3XKWiljrCSik2ppFuTS1XdgCjdr26xcORqn_1BZ9tumojRssKMZeNsnGfEFJ8xIO2Sh4Yz16bB8JKS1den-5bd0o7OVarddNU4rmhyphenhypheny/s1600/989X9489-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFY1Cc58n_TFdSay4hQ2QKDpzC0-9ESwUXKSNM3XKWiljrCSik2ppFuTS1XdgCjdr26xcORqn_1BZ9tumojRssKMZeNsnGfEFJ8xIO2Sh4Yz16bB8JKS1den-5bd0o7OVarddNU4rmhyphenhypheny/s640/989X9489-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
And terrific star gazing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_kIltyOeleK4GjririZYraV6R2pdFma5cw2hknv40SKHU6nz4co6lZrkEIpVdvSb3uqnYaXOFW2qTh5DCucANSoHegF_wrE-YXvql-awF-ZyUr0a1rtwm1mpYzO7Knhh7neXffjI643Y/s1600/989X0444-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_kIltyOeleK4GjririZYraV6R2pdFma5cw2hknv40SKHU6nz4co6lZrkEIpVdvSb3uqnYaXOFW2qTh5DCucANSoHegF_wrE-YXvql-awF-ZyUr0a1rtwm1mpYzO7Knhh7neXffjI643Y/s640/989X0444-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Much more to come...<br />
Stay tuned.Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-18472582260296613352011-05-03T20:36:00.000-07:002011-05-03T20:36:15.614-07:00May 1: Speed CheckHere's a brief teaser from 6 days on the Green River.<br />
<br />
On day 5, I finally found a good line with a nice landing.<br />
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Stepping out the in-run. (Removing thorns.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqR10Ppv4gtHSOohyphenhyphenBxHWrMa5yrJ7eh6rg6jFpTt6gEXPOikIUm__ZW5CKFVeg_YAUoDXnFyW4BG_b6gE3OkOex72giJtaylAB54c7yLKiKHXq2MZxyNtKqshJda7jnaJQ-L72FJgZu5lZ/s1600/IMG_1056-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqR10Ppv4gtHSOohyphenhyphenBxHWrMa5yrJ7eh6rg6jFpTt6gEXPOikIUm__ZW5CKFVeg_YAUoDXnFyW4BG_b6gE3OkOex72giJtaylAB54c7yLKiKHXq2MZxyNtKqshJda7jnaJQ-L72FJgZu5lZ/s640/IMG_1056-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Waiting for the light. (Cursing the wind.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9jCpE74hYz8EGVCSK-K8DlFI6OqsJ-K6viirU77ictD3Rka26sSoaRHhGSUffaIb6UKg3fSZ-LUcinHyJBXex37HpsVW3_OmrRDqYvptl5qt-zmAiy9QtzRcbNF32IvPUfCDS_eUYTDGm/s1600/IMG_1063-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9jCpE74hYz8EGVCSK-K8DlFI6OqsJ-K6viirU77ictD3Rka26sSoaRHhGSUffaIb6UKg3fSZ-LUcinHyJBXex37HpsVW3_OmrRDqYvptl5qt-zmAiy9QtzRcbNF32IvPUfCDS_eUYTDGm/s640/IMG_1063-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Speed check? It's already been speed checked.<br />
Ahh... fuckitsendit.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrhCMJks2QvG9m57PjoB9UeqWfhYtDZQjrvGoH0x1MBa5eJ374UrVdbrRS3dQbpVB-0_HT4MvJe1XyvY81IAYEgHNqUIFhhxSTaLw0tgLjJQl57ZqKvkHMhVxutO-D5CD8TyTwhZ0M-yr-/s1600/IMG_1073-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrhCMJks2QvG9m57PjoB9UeqWfhYtDZQjrvGoH0x1MBa5eJ374UrVdbrRS3dQbpVB-0_HT4MvJe1XyvY81IAYEgHNqUIFhhxSTaLw0tgLjJQl57ZqKvkHMhVxutO-D5CD8TyTwhZ0M-yr-/s640/IMG_1073-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Thanks to TJ for the camera assist.Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2378879558351639366.post-28531665116437970372011-04-25T11:54:00.000-07:002011-04-25T11:54:42.505-07:00Apr 23: San FranHeaded to SF to meet some friends for the weekend.<br />
<br />
We caught the ATL@SF game. One pitch later, Jason Heyward ripped an RBI single to take a 1-0 lead.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXE7As3Lr2ClFZBu4rFxhZDNIvVrYiLzYJ7KsKL6FhA0hIYrQl_Mfkbv0f8S5ev2MQprDP6ExWl00U0OYXsaDn6C9xYyIigi5moLaAQOHiAwhNIMQCYycc9UatGGKiSKUSADOsYz55v6CM/s1600/IMG_0489-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXE7As3Lr2ClFZBu4rFxhZDNIvVrYiLzYJ7KsKL6FhA0hIYrQl_Mfkbv0f8S5ev2MQprDP6ExWl00U0OYXsaDn6C9xYyIigi5moLaAQOHiAwhNIMQCYycc9UatGGKiSKUSADOsYz55v6CM/s640/IMG_0489-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
After a Chipper Jones 2-run double, Uggla put them up 4-0. Go Braves.<br />
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After 4-1 win and a fun evening, we took to the bay the next day.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFJkcWfPmZyzhOfCD9j2oBdSYjMeC1y3J3s_FqhhSuTVF3krMSX909FIOi-jCgbz-pHmmyqxHnIBMLckms9NKRbBBHNVpmZH954V1dEVazWe49-h69y-2tbBKqGmRqe6EMJyU9i1XSBqYW/s1600/IMG_0193-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFJkcWfPmZyzhOfCD9j2oBdSYjMeC1y3J3s_FqhhSuTVF3krMSX909FIOi-jCgbz-pHmmyqxHnIBMLckms9NKRbBBHNVpmZH954V1dEVazWe49-h69y-2tbBKqGmRqe6EMJyU9i1XSBqYW/s640/IMG_0193-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Perfect weather for sailing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDqma4lJhk0hOYeZ5XZSzMJ3dZLiSswPCsb20wdRGdQay1kfDZ2RmCcLyysVof2QDjuo7mINRikuYSwyeeZE1css3Wod2bHUnsLAnhXRUZbO_I-69OUVjNsf0M0iKfuIgF1DrfpX6f7Bd/s1600/IMG_0204-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDqma4lJhk0hOYeZ5XZSzMJ3dZLiSswPCsb20wdRGdQay1kfDZ2RmCcLyysVof2QDjuo7mINRikuYSwyeeZE1css3Wod2bHUnsLAnhXRUZbO_I-69OUVjNsf0M0iKfuIgF1DrfpX6f7Bd/s640/IMG_0204-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Captain described the boat as 'basically a skiff with beer holders.'<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezlWn3KJSzE57xuDX9KDUTANiKa8dLXLnUjbYr2BrxxftMDCx2-mQrRrg8Aks2b0ZrmtPavVY5k8BiYO2hboJAhjJ4BaPHrVBjwgLZUov7To1FXdP44nO3h20cqtvGIHHIaBPgwiOq9AO/s1600/IMG_0253-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezlWn3KJSzE57xuDX9KDUTANiKa8dLXLnUjbYr2BrxxftMDCx2-mQrRrg8Aks2b0ZrmtPavVY5k8BiYO2hboJAhjJ4BaPHrVBjwgLZUov7To1FXdP44nO3h20cqtvGIHHIaBPgwiOq9AO/s640/IMG_0253-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
But at 53' and designed for long distance racing, she could really cruise, not that we broke any speed records.<br />
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Capt'n put us to work.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We finished back at the ballpark, as the Braves won again, 5-2.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9A8DoOnNA41ALyVZvi3mwe9KW0fNQDWRLJMsMzGkmfueGfpc8wBRf6sz7JmlV6fyXX9odfqFfw8IOYWdA_x7KDxUighCa0Db8B2UTZrYbnWYSY-WwpB2GZgPYMZGpr4SgnazgzQjs8zw4/s1600/IMG_0274-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9A8DoOnNA41ALyVZvi3mwe9KW0fNQDWRLJMsMzGkmfueGfpc8wBRf6sz7JmlV6fyXX9odfqFfw8IOYWdA_x7KDxUighCa0Db8B2UTZrYbnWYSY-WwpB2GZgPYMZGpr4SgnazgzQjs8zw4/s640/IMG_0274-web.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Later, we went to San Jose to watch the hockey game. Kings 3, Sharks 1.<br />
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There were no tigers or hookers, but it was a weekend of sports, boating, good food and good friends. I'll take that every time.Jeremy Koonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406187937673710950noreply@blogger.com0