Whistler So Far

Ahhh. Whistler time is back. Life is good again. It's a pretty damn good natural high, I gotta tell you. In the shit storm that has been my life over the last year, Whistler is the $5 bill I find in my pants pocket. It's the sucker hole of sunshine that lasts just long enough for me to bike home. It's the wiggling dog that greets me every time I walk in the front door.

Actually, you know what? It's WAY better than all of those things. I've called Whistler, "Oz" for a bit, because to me it's just that. It's that magical place where good things happen, great friends are everywhere and the best times of my life are had, every single day I'm there.

I've spent six of my last 11 days in Whistler riding my bike, eating sushi, building a trail, laughing with my friends, racing in a ridiculous race, soaking in hot tubs, and not getting enough rest.

The bike park has been mint so far. Every trail, save for Dirt Merchant, on the lower mountain is open and kicking much ass. Hitting features that still scare me, but feel good right now is great. Riding trails that are new to me, but old in existence is great. Digging a trail for Duncan - one that he flagged, he dreamt about, talked about and luckily showed someone where he wanted to build it is great.

The B. C. dirt is so different than what we have in Washington. Instead of striking instant dirt you first cut through three inches of thick moss. Next, you chop through more inches of small but super strong roots. The entire ground is covered with them. It's like a massive root webbing underneath the moss. After the roots you sort through seemingly endless rocks. And maybe... just maybe you might hit dirt after that. We only dug for about 5 hours but we were cooked afterwards. The trail is going to be amazing. A short but technical climb is going to leave your lungs gasping for air and your legs full of lactic acid.

I think one of my favorite parts of going to Whistler is seeing all of the friends I've made over the last few years. Whether they're local guides, or from another continent, it's just a congregation of amazing people. The best part? They all want to ride bikes, so that's what we do. We find each other in the lift line, we meet at the top, we laugh and holler all the way down the trails, and then we catch up on the chair lift. This goes on all day long, every day. Even on days like today, where it pissed down rain. We still rode with so many awesome people. It never gets old.

Finally- the highlight of my weekend. Every year Whistler has what is really just a silly race called Crud2Mud. The idea: solo or as a team, you start at the top of the Whistler gondola and ski or snowboard down a pretty damn long course until the snow runs out. Being that it's the end of May, there are some spotty, muddy sections (the Crud). In fact, this year there was a mandatory section about 50 feet long where you had to unstrap and run across the mud, skis or board in tow. After that you strap back in for the final (and very sparse) bits of snow. Then you either tag your partner or hop on your downhill bike in all your snow gear. After a brief but brutal push uphill you pedal like a crazy person and rail it down B Line. Not a technical trail for sure, but after slogging down slushy snow, running up a hill with your bike and trying to ride with your snowboard boots, you're completely gassed. Somehow I managed to pass 2 girls during my race run and I ended up the day in 2nd place. Oh yah, I was also wearing a whoopie cushion. Freaking awesome.

Photo credit goes to EB!

Whistler, Oz - best place ever.

Only in Dreams

My dreams are vivid. CRAZY vivid. I wake up and sometimes have to convince myself they didn't really happen. Sometimes I want them to be real. Sometimes they are so wonderful, exciting, or surreal that their clarity and sensations are awesome. I've had dreams that have people in them that aren't alive anymore. These are always the ones that stick with me. Sometimes I think I dream to get closure, or just to spend time with someone that I can't in real life.

In the last two weeks I've had two dreams about my friend Duncan that was killed in December in an avalanche. One was simple enough to not make me think too much of it. It was just him in some mountain bike videos and photos in some capacity. The other one... the other one has been disturbing me for almost a week now - and not in a bad way- just haunting.

In my dream I was asleep in my dream bedroom. I have a recurring bedroom that ends up in my dreams frequently. I don't know why, but it's always very similar. In this dream it was morning, but I was sleeping. I woke up to a knock on my bedroom door and Duncan opening the door slowly. I was confused and asked what he was doing in my house, but not upset that he was there - just confused like I would be in real life. He looked concerned and upset. His hair was a mess (but that was normal for him) but he wasn't smiling. He wasn't laughing. And that- that was not normal. He told me he needed to talk to me, so I got out of bed and walked into the living room.

He sat on the couch and looked at the floor.
"I'm moving to Calgary," he said.
"What? Why? When," I asked.
"As soon as I leave here," he said.
"Well," I said, "You can hang out with Goodall. That's cool, right? And I can come visit you in Calgary. That's not a big deal."
"No. You can't come visit me," he said.
He continued to look at the floor. He slowly raised his head and said, "You won't ever see me again," and then he started to cry.

My first instinct was to give him a hug. I climbed on the couch next to him and he buried his face in my shoulder. He was warm and pink in the face. He sobbed into my shoulder. Even just writing about this I can smell him. He had a distinct scent, and it was in my dream. His tears were seeping into my shirt and I started to cry too.  We both sat there sobbing quietly. It our way of saying goodbye.

How heavy is that? I can't quite get over it, what it meant, what it still means, and everything that came with it. I think about Duncan every single day. Some days are worse than others. I accept what happened to him. It sucks, but it is what it is.  But this dream just keeps popping up in my head and I can't let it go. Maybe it's because I'll be spending a lot of time in Whistler over the next five months and I  know he won't be there, and it's just weighing on my mind. Either way, it was kind of cool to have that dream. Even though it wasn't real, it was almost like we got to say goodbye.

Move.

I haven't writtin in a long time. I think it's a sign of the times. I don't feel like there's much excitment going on right now.

The good news is that lots of bikes have been ridden which is always awesome. There can never be too many bikes. But even that is a little bit... off. Our favorite, most revered trails out of Bellingham recently got shut down due to some burecratical bullshit. It's all a total shame. It went from the happiest place in the state to just a distant memory. Bummer, right?

But yah- at least we can ride. The weather is conducive to riding. The dirt is good, and there are other trails that we can ride. But those... those were pretty damn special. Whistler opens up in about 3 weeks. I'm counting on that to help turn the frown upside down. I need my Whistler medicine. Even that will be bittersweet without the assurance of seeing my goofy buddy Duncan. It'll be weird knowing that I can't just call him to come grab a bite or a lap in the park. It'll just be weird without him there.

Sometimes something comes along at times like this that just makes me stop and think and remember how good everything is. I came across this video today. I've seen it before, but not in a while. I love it. If I could sum up what I wish my life was like in a short video it would be just like this. What an adventrure. These guys covered dozens of countries in just over a month. It took them 18 flights to get everywhere, which seems pretty damn reasonable to me.

The very last clip has to be in Peru. I think I was on the same road as him the last day I rode my bike in Cusco. It looks so much like where the accident happened... so eerie and beautiful.
Anyways, here it is. Move.

Bikes and Good Spirit

Man it has been a whirlwind six months. Friday marked the exact six month anniversary of Evan's crash. It feels like ages ago, but at the same time it feels like just yesterday we were hiking around Machu Picchu watching storms pass through the lush forests and over the ancient ruins. I can close my eyes and remember pushing against the headwind of that morning of the crash. I remember thinking how blue the sky looked that day against the glaciers from the Andes Mountains. Six months. It's crazy.

What's even crazier is how incredibly well Ev's recovered. He's been called a miracle by so many people, it's truly inspiring. His life is essentially back to normal now with a few exceptions. Last Friday- that six month mark- was his first day back on a bicycle. I was giddy for that morning to arrive. Everyone was. Evan is a cornerstone in our little bike world, and not having him on rides has been like riding without an arm - or more accurately - it was like riding without a soul. We were pedaling, and having fun, but it was empty and kind of lonely.

I wanted to give Evan a proper welcome back to the world he loves more than anything. I asked his bike friends to just give a simple "Welcome back to bikes," on camera, so I could compile a short video. What we got was so amazing - yet another example of the bike community blowing my mind as they have done so often over the last six months. It's like everything is better when bike people are involved. They are GOOD SOULS with big hearts. The world needs more people like this. Look at this love they showed Evan on his first day back on his bike. Watch it and tell me you don't get a little emotional, knowing what he's been through - what we've all been through.

See? Bike people are amazing.

Evan wanted to plan a fun group ride for Saturday, his first day back on a mountain bike. What was going to be a fun little ride turned into a massive gathering of the extended two-wheeled family that we've all become a part of. We had almost thirty people show up to Galbraith on Saturday. It didn't hurt that the weather was the most perfect weather anyone could ever ask for. Bluebird skies, massive snow-capped mountains, and trails as far as the eye could see...and people. Dozens of people. All waiting for Evan to take those first pedals on his bike. Up and up we went, like a chatty, colorful snake, caressing the switchbacks on the side of the mountain as we climbed our way to the top. People came from Bellingham, Seattle, and even Portland to ride with Evan.

If I wasn't so exhausted from trying to keep up with the faster riders, I probably would have shed a little tear. Check out this crew. This happy, happy, crew welcoming our friend back to bikes.

After we finished riding we all made our way over to our friends' house and gave the local taco truck an insane amount of business. We sat in the sun, eating burritos, laughing at anything, sharing stories of our ride, and soaking in the whole perfect scene. It was just such a good day, and such a good feeling. Because those same people have such good spirit. You can't not have fun when you're with them, and now it feels like we're all whole again.

The sun is out again today. We rode more bikes, but with just three of us today. Photos were the main reason for riding. Evan is documenting his recovery for a project. Our friend Paris, a really talented photographer, shot over a thousand photos of Evan today while we rode our downhill bikes. It seemed like Evan barely missed a step in his months off. He rode like a pro. Stylish, calculated, and just as I remembered. It was fun to watch them work together. This photo - green and blue, and just Pacific Northwest to a tee.

(c) 2012 Paris Gore

Every single day we can ride our bikes is going to be better than a day we can't. I am so happy to be a part of this amazing little world that knows nothing but good times, hard work, and endless support. Thanks to all of you for making this weekend extra special.

Read This.

Get inspired. Do something awesome. READ THIS.

The Most Astounding Fact

I like it when my mind is blown. It doesn't happen nearly often enough, but when it does it's kind of like a natural high. Endorphins race around, and I begin to ponder bigger badder shit about the history of the universe and souls and black holes and gravity. You know... big stuff that is beyond my mental capacity to really, truly comprehend what is happening.

I saw this video today and it blew my mind... not because it was beyond belief, but because it's really just phenomenal to think about who we are and what we're made of at such a granular level. Listen.




 

Awesome. Just the kind of stuff that I need to have my mind blown. This is what I need to keep things in perspective. Never forget to put things in perspective. Doing that has made the tough times much easier to cope with. Look at what we're made of. How can that be topped? People, science- it's all incredible.

Snow Ghosts

Yesterday I went to Crystal Mountain to go snowboarding with coworkers. It was a beautiful couple of hours that we got to spend on the snow. The sun was shining. The terrain is steep at Crystal, much of it under the chairlift and in view of those enjoying a mellow ride to the top. I kept thinking about Duncan.

Today it has been two months since his passing. While time does help make things easier, yesterday was a hard one. Sitting on that lift in the sun I kept expecting him to pop out from between the trees with his bright green and blue outfit and that big goofy grin plastered to his face. Duncan would have loved yesterday. He would have loved to put on a show. He would have loved to have been leading the charge all day, throwing snow, and whooping it up as he weaved his way in between the trees.

View from my desk gives me a chance to say hi to fallen friends.

I haven't wanted to be in the snow this season because I feel like that part of me is now gone. All of the excitement that came with snow left on December 29th. While it's still fun, the majority of what I feel is made up of a lump in my throat and a hole in my heart from sadness, fear and just the sense that I'm missing something.

I kept turning around when I was riding, not because I thought he'd be there, but because I wanted him to be. I wanted so badly for this to be a bad dream - for the last six months to be one big bad dream that I could just wake up from and have everything be good again. Turning around I saw my friends and a big beautiful mountain, but not Duncan. Not the happy time I wanted. Not that smile or the jokes. Not the easy way. Not the relief that I know is out there somewhere.

Instead, it was just snow ghosts. Everything I want and need is out there lurking. Yesterday it was in the snow. Today it was in the clouds. Tomorrow maybe it'll be in the puddles that will inevitably be gathering at my feet as I walk through the streets. One day soon, it'll be in my hands. It has to happen. Time is going to help me again.

That feeling that something special is gone will slowly fade, but days like yesterday are reminders of just what I'm missing.