The Toyota pickup truck pulled into the big parking lot at the top of Monarch pass and the four of us piled out into the cold mountain air. I saw a thin sheet of ice covering the puddle at my feet and I stepped down on it. Cracks formed and water seeped through with a satisfying crunch. Cliffy pulled a knit beanie down over his ears and said, you guys still think this is a good idea? I’m gonna be so pissed if we freeze to death. Each word puffed a small cloud out in front of him. Relax, it’ll warm up, I said, my teeth chattered, once we get moving. Kevin lifted the mountain bikes off of the padded tailgate and we leaned them against the Tacoma. Each of us started running through our own pre-ride checklists. For this trip we were switching out much of our standard mountain biking gear for warmer, thicker stuff. Instead of biking socks and my Vans I wore thick wool socks and light, waterproof hiking boots. My normal bikepack was swapped for a larger pack normally used for back...
When I started writing this blog my business card simply read, "Bicycle Enthusiast Extraordinaire." But times have changed my friends! Now on each imaginary card I'm handwriting in a second line that says, "and Firefighter 1." Some people my age train to run a marathon, others go back to school for advanced degrees. Middle age is the perfect time to add a new line to your business card, so I'm adding firefighter. But this is still a bike blog so for this post I will try to provide some clumsy parallels between fire fighting and mountain biking. Obviously there is the thrill seeking aspect, the adrenaline rush. Then there is the camaraderie, the feeling of belonging to a subculture, an interconnected tribe. I will also add the concept of 'embracing the suck' the feeling of looking up a trail and seeing only climbing. The mindset of pulling all your thoughts into one simple goal, keep going. I haven't experienced much true hardship as a firefig...