A Night on Firsts

I had heard rumors for some time of this cabin within bikes reach of the city. Now bikes reach can mean different things to different folks. I mean I did make my way out to Brunswick after work one night, but as to not blowout the spot, we shall leave it at that.

Last week, I had a cancellation on my book which gave me the evening to myself, so I peaked a bag hopped on my bike and pedaled a mix of pavement, double and single track before shouldering my bike and walking out into the water to the lonesome isle and it\'s vacant cabin which seems to have not had visitors in 3 years. I looked around a bit before hopping out on the rocks to catch a magnificent sunset. Mosquitos were biting once the sun dropped behind the trees so I headed back up to the cabin, lit some citronella candles and lounged on the porch. Lots of Huey\'s thumped by overhead and frogs chirped. All but a few geese had seemed to have gone to bed. A lone owl howled in the distance as lightning illuminated my surroundings for a moment. Thick clouds obscured a nearly full moon from time to time, however from the moon\'s glow, I was able to make out the clouds bellowing shapes before making another appearance and illuminating the river once again. This would not only be my first night spent out there, but also the maiden voyage of the Sawyer I recently picked up on the super cheap.

Fountain of Youth

This week consisted of some decent adventure, some of which will discussed in its own post at a later date. Yesterday, I got out a few fellow members of the Race Pace/ Trek mtb squad and played amongst the wet rocks. It would seem some choose not to change tires depending on the terrain and several of the dickskin tires ended up cut. Normally, the sealant inside would plug the hole, but when the Stan\'s bogger inside the tire resembles a piece of cauliflower, there is probably little liquid still swishing about. As expected with the RP crew, when wheels were actually turning, it was surge, surge, attack, attack, like angry ants, mad with the smell of fitness. However, flats would once again plague the ride, and another 20 minutes would pass trying to get a dry tubeless tire to seal. Maybe it seemed that long after numerous applications of rubber cement which made me forget about the hammer being dropped on me moments prior. Then, we would start off again and quickly remember, struggling to hang on, sluggish from yet another glue application. Were we really out for 5 hours? Then I headed ver to the steep side and took a token shuttle run with Jed and the boys.

Today was another gloomy day, and more or less a disappointment. I have been trying to track down a frame for a print I\'m selling, and it\'s proving to be problematic after my goto store shut its doors. I called off the search at around 3:30pm and went for lunch where I was once again accosted by an obnoxious crossfit trainer who used terms like "fountain of youth" to describe his program. I was tempted to tell him to drink from my fountain of youth, but focused on my pizza instead. He lost interest before reaching the point in the conversation where I end up cussing him out and throwing his crumpled up card on thebar. That was so last month.

Soulcrushing Demoralizing Sausagefest (SDS '12)

Here it is, Wednesday afternoon after the 10th annual Stokesville-Douthat-Stokesville weekend and I am still feeling the effects of the journey. Tough to rise in the morning, consuming coffee like its water, spending days in general haze before heading home after work and immediately passing out, fully dressed before struggling to rise 12 hours later. Today is a little better, but my knees both still burn across the front, where the ACL resides, on a gentle spin to work. Why I keep coming back, i am still not quite sure. Chris Scott of Shenandoah Mountain Touring has been putting on this ride for a decade, and each year the roster contains some of the East Coast's most elite riders. This year I showed up in hopes of capturing some images, but like I was saying, many of these folks are as elusive as Sasquatch himself. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to wear the big pack with numerous cameras on board, so if trying to keep pace with the group wasnt hard enough to begin with, my bright orange parachute pack kept me a dangling. Typically folks begin to show up at the campground around sunset. I typically roll out of town early to avoid the getting caught in the traffic of Hell itself: Northern Virginia. It was a half-assed attempt this year as I got caught in the front end of traffic which landed me in the 'burg too late to catch the shop ride and once again the first one at camp. I am always excited to see who SDS brings out on a given year. This year had a bunch of unfamiliar faces and I caught some of those looks I did the first year I showed up. "Who is this guy with flat pedals, cotton button up shirt, and cut off poly golf pants?" Whatevs, got to keep them wondering, always. Day 1 went pretty well. I was hanging out and rolling with the group on Hankey Mtn, down Dowell's Draft and over to the Southern Traverse. Yes, all of this before lunch. From lunch, it was party pace road riding over to Little Mare which was slummier than usual with a steady dick trickle of precipitation. I came across 3 fallen soldiers along the climb. My guess is Miguel Carpong lightened his load along the way and dumped the 3 Kings. 3 dayers, keep an eye ball peeled and enjoy. Into Douthat, we entered the burn zone, which began as a controlled burn, but came back to life and tortched a good bit forest. We rode straight though the belly of the surreal terrain. Only a few slummers took the road in while the rest of us climbed and did a bit more single. Back at the lodge, our wonderful support crew had hot lasagna, garlic bread, salad and brownies for us. I dont think there was one of us who didnt sleep sound that night. In the morning, things were wet, but at least it wasnt raining. Heavy fog set in the valley and the leaves were slick. For those of you not in the know, SDS contains some of the choicest cuts of Appalacian backcountry riding known to man. Along with the backcountry adventures come the back country hazzards. Ripping down to the Cowpasture river, a large stick rolled out in front of me as I followed another rider, lodging itself in my front wheel. I saw it all unfolding right in front of me. I kept my weight back to keep from going over the bars, but instead it went into a skid and fell off the edge of the trail. As I continued forward, my bike faded further off to the left until my knee was on the ground. I was ejected from the bike and sliding on my shoulder and head finally stopping some 30 feet from my bike. On this same section of trail, Chris Nystrom missed a critical right turn and found himself in no-mans-land. This was after he left the safety of the group and started riding an hour before us. At the bridge, rain began to fall again and just got heavier as the day wore on. Seeing as my good rain jacket was left behind at a friends apartment a month or two ago, which is a story all its own, I sported a leaky old unit and was wet before reaching the Mill Mtn re-route. With Nyse-guy still MIA I rolled with Poz and a couple hours to lunch in hopes of locating him. At lunch things got kinda weird, Chris rolled in 10 minutes or so after us and we all got super saturated riding the road back to camp. Another one in the books. Saturday at the top of Hankey Mtn...

Mike Boyes on the Southern Traverse...

Ominous skies bound for Little Mare...

Regroup at the top of Little Mare...

I scrambled to get this slummy pic then waited 10 minutes for others to roll through. No luck...

The bike and burn...

Climbing from the cabin...

Map checka one, two...

Remember kids...

And I also got a roll back containing mediocre images from the past couple rides up in the Fort. Lighting was difficult for the most part, especially shooting sans flash...

Preoccupied

Amoungst the rolls I have been recently sorting through was a 35mm b&w roll from the Occupy DC days that I shot with my Blackbird Fly twin reflex. In the cover of darkness, occupiers began construction of a permanant structure in the park which sparked a stand-off.

This officer's expression really caught my eye. It was obvious he was just on the job and the day was wearing on him. I had forgotten it until I saw this image again, the empathy I felt.

I asked this fellow if I could take his picture. He said "No," but changed his mind once he saw my camera. It seemed to spark some memories for him and was happy to have his picture taken with a twin reflex.

Odd mobile camping unit...

People always need to bring religion into things...

Note the Jesus on soap-on-arope around the neck. This guy seemed a bit touched....

Not all were spoiled 20 somethings on the run...

But alas, some were...

"Murphy in the Park!"

Random Rolls

Finally finished up some rolls of film and got them in to be developed. Wasnt sure what was there. First is a roll from the Diana Mini of trips in Virginia.

The climb up to the tower on Elliots...

Storming the tower...

Regroup on near Big Schloss...

There was a roll shot with a fisheye from Sedona...

Burner gettin' down on the Highline...

More Burner action...

Hangin' out on Hangover...

Pause and reflect...

High above the Bike and Bean...

More to come...

Play Time at The Fort

This whole no internet thing at the house is killing my ability to get my blog on. Last weekend was a good ride with the Virginia crew on Short Mountain. The sky looked ominous as I got up and made my way West, but just outside of Front Royal, the clouds opened up to sunshine and warmth. We sessioned sections time and again. Frustration reared its ugly head on occasion which told me it was feeding time again. heading south on the ridge, the rumble of distant thunder brought on a feeling of anxiety, but that didnt stop the fun. Falling Watters took a nsty spill over the bars on a drop off, rang his bell pretty good, broke his helmet and got a gusher over the eye, but in the end he prevailed. Wes scoped out some new lines which will be ridden in the weeks to come.

Here Tim hops a log of respectable size and immediately rides the spine of this rock. Hot!

Collin 2.0 sequence...

A short film of a long day on Short Mtn...

Pwappa Relaxcyling on Short Mountain with Spaghettilegs from Scott Wootten on Vimeo.

This week was the National Bike Summit in DC and I went down for a couple events and got a great night ride in with friends by the cherry blossoms and around the monuments. This photo is not from that but from a full moon night ride at Patapsco a couple weeks back. First time riding there in 2 years?

Yesterday was supposed to be a big day with lots of folks on Short and Jawbone but wet weather scared many away. Those who ride Fort Valley know that the area has its own weather pattern and just because its pouring on one section does not mean the sun wont be out elsewhere. We optted to ride Kennedy's to Veach as we had some reliable intel that it didnt rain much on that section. I was running far behind schedule so I parked at Veach to ride south and meet the others on the ridge. It was raining steady as I began the climb but stopped as soon as I started to climb. The east side of the ridge was engulfed with a heavy fog while the west side was warm and clear. A good group from the burg risked get wet and risk paid off. That section of ridge rolls!