patience, missBliss

tonight's practice: having patience with myself.

the cough that has so wrecked me these last 2 weeks ... seems to have no mercy. but i cannot sit still any longer:

530pm, i found myself at white ranch, prepped and primed to take it easy. being off the bike for two weeks has not done anything positive for my mtbSpirit. i find a kind of comfort in the trails at white ranch, having ridden them ad nauseam for years. so i wanted to break back into the roll and play of things in a place that feels like home.

as expected, the trail head was ... full of people. the sky had clouded over, and the temperature was perfect for the pending climbs. i was excitedly anticipating the wacky little set of loops of climbs that i like to put together.......... after a bit of milling about and receiving a gift of GummiBearSweets, ed sent me off to reconnect with my lostMTBmojo .... how did i luck out in such a fantastic way?

i succeeded in taking it easy. legs could have felt much worse. in fact, i think i expected them to feel empty. they weren't empty ... they were flat, but they weren't empty (relief). the cough was there, tho. and that concerned me. topping out, eventually, found me a little freaked that i might never get rid of the cough and cold... feeling empty in energy is not a light thing for me. it scares me. and i panic. however, in all honesty, i was surprised i made it to where i was, and with the mtbSpirit that i had. reconnection gained. successful day.

at the top, in a crowd: one guy on the ground doing sit ups, three racer boiis pacing and chatting, and a few others that had rolled up just as i started chasing said racer boiis down mustang. i really shouldn't be racing or chasing. these efforts cause coughing. and that is BAD.

there is one significant thing about the current state of white ranch: the FLOWERS. if i had a real camera, i likely would have bagged the effort to hit all my loops, and gladly walked to take physical note of the the thick blanket of color and blossom. what a sight to behold, considering this area is usually bone-dry, hot, dusty. (ed, you really should head out there tomorrow and take your camera with you... i could meet you there again!?!?!).

anyway. the practice in patience will have to continue for the next few weeks. i must remember that it is going to take me a little while of deliberately kind effort to get back into my usual pace of things.

more so, i must remember that it's O K A Y that it takes me a while to get there.


eye of the storm

It's almost June. Like, really, it IS June. Which means I'm off track.

Being sick has a way of depressing me to no end. It sits me down, shuts me up and pretty much renders me useless and still. Still is difficult. And I don't like it one bit.

Having not completed the 142, and then being enveloped in a heavy chest cold has gotten me off center, and I am thus behind the game on my bike. Darn it all to ffing hell.

The RESET button has been hit, and tomorrow afternoon begins my repeated efforts towards ... the way I like my mtbMe to Be.

So. Enough of that.

It seems that this little here experiment (JenyJoMTBlog) has hit the airwaves and is no longer my private little testing ground. How exciting! Thus, I have added links to my most frequented www spaces. I would like to honor you all because I've been following you (well, your writing ... or so you think), and have employed your words of wisdom, your candid advice, your dreams and your mtbInpirations most thoroughly. Cheers to you all, for lighting fires.

I thought that I was going to have a full weekend of MTBmaddness to post about. Such is not the case. Instead, the chest cold (and ensuing goo) would not allow me to ride more than a whopping 4 miles on pristine, relatively untouched trail. So be it. I napped in the car for 3 hours, meditated the remaining 3 hours, and have never been more relieved to see my two honorable pals return before dark. (After all, how am I supposed to rescue people on an adventure of an unknown course... riiiiight).

So being on the trail this weekend on my bike was a bust. However, I got to spend the most remarkable day on a trail, on my feet for a good part of the day on Saturday. (Nope, not a single picture.)

Saturday, afoot:
I don't know what to say about a hike that was so incredibly unlike any and every other hike I've been on in my entire life (which have been countless, trust me). Not to mention the fact that I was actually in territory that I grew up in. One ridge over from a trail I've known since kindergarten, I was introduced to a world I've never seen, and in a manner I've never known. I have drafts of poems and abstracts from the day ....... but truly, the experience resides in a wordless realm, eliciting for me a peace that is beyond my ability to explain. Describing it feels like it does not do it justice.

So, for you, a few notes of interest:

buttercups in billions
invisible trails
stalking the call of the wild

tender fields,
meandering the green edge
of our unknown

the bright sky
sweet with light,
the soft ground,

the dance of the humming bird
calling a succulent song

my smile
in your shadow
trailing the budding spring
of bluebells and bones

So.That was Sunday. And Monday found me in bed, resting. Things have been so still, and yet so full; the Center at peace, and the edges holding such promise.



So, this is Ed and I at the start of KTR. This was taken before we left the Mack exit parking lot, roughly around 9pm. I was tremendously happy and excited, and just insanely proud to be starting with the one person with whom I spent so much time preparing for the event. Ed, I find your camaraderie to be deeply grounding and inspiring.

Happy happy happy!

While I've not written a true report, I've written a number of drafts. My previous post is a bit of condensed essence of the moment I ... quit. I'm going to leave it at that. There is more than enough working it's way through my psyche ... the fallout is just not going to wither away and disintegrate. I'm just going to let it simmer there and it will all evolve. For now, I'm going to focus
on the deeply happy parts of the whole experience.

So this was the other blessing of happiness of the day and the event: Ed, top 10. Seeing him rip around the last corner into the finish was one of the brightest moments. I was SO happy he was able to finish, and finish strong, and with a huge smile of accomplishment. YOU rock, my friend. And I admire you.

So, I've chosen to treat myself to a little inspiration:

Yes, my pink Truth (Pony) now has pink grips, with white stars. If nothing else, the stars are there for me as a reminder of one pivotal moment. Despite the fact that I actually ordered these before the KTR (perhaps I would not have flipped my lid had I actually HAD my grips by the race ... right), I find them to be a perfect bit of inspiration.

I'm silly. I know. So be it.



my chest hurts
in the center
and i can't help but think
that i've broken my own heart
when i chose to s t o p
and find solace in stillness
and company

(was the darkness that felt so deep and so wide
the darkness around me
or the darkness within me?
and if whithin, how could i not choose to go forth
shed light, and grow?
that feels like the True Failure here
one of two hugely bottomless disappointments)

it's unfortunate the company of stars
was not enough
for the Infinite space that surrounded me
was full of billions



Tonka, Pony and I would like to wish everyone a tremendously WONDERFUL time and good luck in the KTR!!!!!!!!




ready, set ...

i took the day off work today to pack all the stuff and generally PREPARE.

<--- I also did a little of this today. Obviously, Tonka likes it when we do this.

bike is ready. pack is ready. mind is ready. heart and soul are ready. i'm so looking forward to this.

slowing down like this affords me the opportunity of visualization.

today it's all clear, and it all feels so tangible.

and i think that's all i need and want to say. it can (and will) all change in a heart beat.




There are so many things sitting in my mind, pending the proper attention. It's been a weekend to remember ... another weekend to remember: down-to-earth Being, being happy, content, satisfied, inspired, and grounded. Damn that is good.

Buffalo Creek is always a pleasure to ride. Whether solo or with a group of friends, one can always throw together a set of loops
sure to satisfy the ups, downs, and all-arounds of mtb-dirt satisfaction. Riding with Ed and Jim was just so darn pleasant I don't know that I stopped smiling for even a second. It was an interesting ride to test out what is supposed to be a 'rest' weekend for me (for us). I tell you, it's difficult for me to sit back and keep the heart rate low when I know we're only putting on 30 or so miles. I just want to stomp it and roll like crazy! But alas, keeping ones self in check on a 'rest' weekend is the 'smart' thing to do.

I don't know that I was able to really just take it easy. But I certainly did not let it go full throttle. But I wanted to.

Anyway... one of the three brightest spots of my day was randomly bumping into my best friend, Cynthia. (I know, she's got the same pic posted on her blog). (I know, I have no links to anything here because I don't feel like being found out yet). SO, the pic below is of Cynthia and I and our lovely Pony's (courtesy of Ed).... I admire Cyn, and I always will,
and I hope to grow up to be just like her.

(Above: Ed flying, courtesy of Jim)

Monday: sleepy. Work a practice in focus; I pretty much failed. Instead: thinking, planning, controlling, laying out, writing down, trying to get the heart-mind-soul-body wrapped around the adventure waiting at the end of the week: Kokopelli Trail Race.

As Cyn knows all too well, the 'race' part gets me all worked up. But I'm not letting it this time. I did, a little, for the last few days ... but I'm done with that part, because that is not a part of it for me, Now. I just want to finish.
          • I will be proud to start, and more so to finish. But I'm out there solely to be in the wide open space, to do something that pushes me beyond what I've done thus far.
          • I can't wait to make it into the sunrise.
          • I can't wait to make it to Dewey and and reassess my legs and my body and my energy and say: The Best Is Yet To Come (the remaining 66 miles and the majority of the climbing yet to be had).
          • I cannot wait, absolutely, to fill my camel back on top of N. Beaver. Because at that point: I know.
Not to mention that all along that 142 mile trail, the vision of the world is G R A N D, and I will be there ready, (and quite specifically) to Behold.

Tonight: True Rest. I'm doing 100% nothing. I'm not even folding the laundry. Apparently we were supposed to get storms this evening. Turns out Denver has just completely flooded:
I was sitting at Tommy's Thai having dinner with my Mother and my stepfather ... when a black wall of clouds settled in and promptly started a down pour. Thus, flooded streets all over town.

It's been The Year of Really Strange Weather thus far.

I can honestly say that I hope it's not that strange this coming weekend.


selfless yet solitary

<--This. (c: jill johansen)

I have no idea. But it works.




Here's to a day of just being.........being with whatever it is that is.

Here's to a weekend, of doing what you love, come what may.

Saturday morning: skies heavy with the wet-grey of clouds brushing heavily to the earth. Another full night of moisture. And snow.

Despite the reports of snow and cold and wet and lack of riding conditions: we rolled anyway. Arriving in the late morning sunrise that appeared in the break-up of shattered storm clouds, it actually looked quite promising.

I had the chance to meet some of the most wonderful people this weekend. Our tour guide, Ed's dear friend, and local down-to-earth Good Guy, Tom, was our fearless leader. I was also lucky to meet the hyper-skilled silent-mtb-madman, Andrew ... and his partner in crime: the lovely and talented, Miss Steph. Our gracious hosts for the weekend: Anton and Amber (and their world of insanely lovable pets).

The ride was giddy and delicious. We played in the Pine and in the sand and over the rocks and down the wash and it was G R A N D. It was a pleasant change of pace from the longer, less single track rides I've been on as of late (not that I've not been on single track). But it was refreshing nonetheless. I am so glad we left the house early in the morning, despite the weather and the forecast. We lucked out.

Sunday morning: dawn was pristine. It was still, crystal clear, and crisp and calm. What a morning to behold. I snuk out of the house early to catch up with friends I've not seen in over 5 years. What a morning for a reunion. I am forever grateful for Rich and Becky's presence in my life, and I am so glad we have had the opportunity to reconnect.

Then the clouds. And the spitting snow. Some rain......But we headed out anyway. A climb in the grey. More climing in the snow. Yet more climbing in the mud and snow. And then: right hand turn off the thick mud onto a fresh blanket of white powder and pine needles. What a lucky morning. Descending the snow, over the logs, grins as wide as the sky, which was endless white snowstorm. It was dumping. More descending, this time, all the way into Spring: the fresh green valley floor, the smell of earth, and the warm sun soaking in. And then ... back down into the rocks and sand and secret trails that I will always feel lucky for having ridden.

I'm so glad we all chose to follow our hearts into the snow storm ... only to find ourselves basking in the adventured bliss of our mtb creation. What a Sunday.

And then.............the drive home. Let's just say that I am grateful to be alive, I am grateful that we did not get hurt, and I am grateful that I didn't hurt anything along the way. Thank you thank you thank you for our safe return.

Monday morning found me entirely way too early, and completely clumsy with sleep. But the day evolved into a constructive focus that blossomed into many tasks and goals accomplished. Good work = good feelings. And I'll be able to rest well tonight.

So cheers to another weekend spent doing what I love and letting the rest fall into place... whatever place that is, or was, or may become.


a day -- this day

Someone filled my world with explosions of color ... and delight. Talk about a happy soul. (thank you)

Tonka (my beloved kitty) likes flowers, too. He likes to eat them.

Today was a day. A day of hard work, focus, and determined effort to keep from thinking about the the explosions of color and the meanderings of my mtbMind. I got a lot of work done today. And it wasn't a fraction enough.

So Be It.

This (below) will live in me each and every moment of each and every day, no matter what I am doing:

I am ponding the possiblity of many different states of being -- BEing all at once, in one (any) given moment.

I suppose there is no substitue for being in the Present moment tho. Right?

The present moment: Perfect.


midnight100ride mtb report

Well, I'm having a difficult time w/ a ride report. I've stepped away from the weekend and have gotten (unfortunately) lost in my head of worries. So I feel slightly removed from the ride, as well as the weekend. Which is remarkably disappointing because the weekend (a whole report in and of itself) was a practice in moment-by-moment bliss for me.
(Photo courtesy of Ed Ellinger).

Our Friday Night/Saturday ride: I was worried going into it that my body was going to fail. Worried about back/hip issues, worried about leg fatigue. I was also worried that I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I knew damn well I could get 50 miles out. Did I know I could make it 50 miles back in ... especially given anything that might go wrong w/ back/hips?

12am: I was delighted to find that the Mary's loop section started off so insanely smooth for me. I felt like I was going a GOOD AND SMART pace. And to top it off, my heart rate remained nice and mellow. I was surprised to find that my legs felt great. I was surprised to remember how much I like riding in the dark. There were a few little techy sections that knocked me out of my flow ... which slowed me down and rendered me clumsy. But other than that: I felt like we were ROLLIN'.

230am: Rabbit Valley was renamed White Rabbit, Wabbit World, and Rabbit Heaven. Ed said I had permission to name it anything I wanted. White Rabbit seems to have stuck. (I have no idea why I couldn't get this straight in my head that day). Heading from White Rabbit: I couldn't understand why my legs were feeling good. My head was feeling something else tho. I felt really strange. Despite being able to find my way through the maze of trail/road, I felt like I was falling down the Rabbit Hole (HAHAHAH ... I just now put that together). No seriously: I started getting weird. My chest started hurting, and I was worried that despite the goodness of my legs ... that something was wrong with me. I have no idea what it was. It stuck w/ me all the way to the top of that stupid steep climb. This section (minus the hike) was fast (well, for me), but I was fighting demons.

In the midst of the demon hours, winding down the dark snaky road ... we stopped. I turned off the light and turned my gaze OUT south east (left). The pale moonlight was spilling so quietly into all of the towering canyons, reflecting faintly off the massive cliffs far, far off in the distance. The stars were glittering en mass above. It was H U G E outside.

It was just a moment, but it was one of my favorites. Despite the desire to really roll and keep a decent pace, I just wanted to take a few moments to BE IN the surroundings.

Top of that stupid hill: The Moon was a pale insanity, slowly sliding down the West Wall of the Universe. I turned off my light and watched her slip. Her light was a pale creamy yellow, and it was a blessing of light compared to the blare and glare of the headlamp light. Ed fixed his brake. I ate something (which was like choking down rocks). I started to get chilled, and we headed out.

4am to the pavement: More head-funk. I started asking the universe to make the sun rise earlier than 620 ... please-oh-pretty-pretty-please!!!! I needed to SEE more than I was seeing, and I needed those insane hours to go the hell away. I hardly remembered this section of the trail from the previous ride in the area, so I was a clumsy fool tinkering all the way down to the road.

When we hit the road, I was confused: Gawd, wasn't' the sun supposed to be up by now? Apparently not.

When we hit the Westwater turn off: gee, isn't the sun supposed to be up by now? Apparently not.

We had 10 miles West to Roll in order to reach the 50 mile mark. My light went out. It was fun to ride in the dark, and try and silently follow Ed's light. The first blessings of the light of dawn were about 10 minutes out ............. and I think I enjoyed those 10 minutes, deeply.

We stopped at mile 51. I had some major warming up to do on my feet. Even though the light was spilling onto our world, the SUN was not up. I was surprised we made our 50 mile mark before the Sun Rise (at 620).

We turned around and headed back into the true Sun Rise. The miles back to Westwater might have been my favorite. For some wicked reason my legs were feeling ON (despite the fact that I said to Ed that they weren't. It was not a lie: they were just so cold I couldn't tell how they felt). Riding out front, the View was Glorious. The land spread out before us, the light seeped into the valleys and across the meadows/desert.

The last 3 miles down into the Westwater turn off: hands off the bars, arms spread wide like wings, flying through the fresh new day. I was happy.

We stopped at the ranger station to get some water: someone was cooking bacon.

We tried to explore a moto trail: we turned around.

A couple of friends sped by in their car, on their way into a "shuttle day". We stopped to chat. There were a LOT of smiles.

We decided to opt for single track for the ride back. We hit RIM something, and it was FUU UUUU UUUUNNNNN to be on single track again. But I started feeling really tired. I also stopped eating anything really solid. I was eating, but I should have choked down more pb&j. Big mistake on my part. I slowed WAY down.

THEN............ OMG, then........... we started seeing people. I had suddenly realized that Ed and I had the entire world to ourselves out there all night, and all morning. I started messing up on some of the techy stuff ... I nailed my knee, failing to nail a ledge. And I broke down a little. Ed scooped me up a little ways down the trail and made me smile inside. (That was new to me. Very sweet).

Back at White Rabbit. Ate a nanner, stretched the hamstrings (should have done that 20 miles ago) ... headed into the head wind. Ed pulled. What a guy.

FINALLY ran into our friends who were doing the shuttle. They seemed happy.

We saw a dead cow next to a big water hole.

We hit the top of the road, and happily descended onto the rough, dirt trail.

Climbing up Troy Built .... Sucked. I had to walk, which was a practice in humility. Practice practice practice. Damn.

Ed was at the top, waiting .......... and i got a KISS!!!! I am so lucky!

Descended onto the road that led back to the car.

130pm Saturday: Hit the cars. Mileage: 99.8. Immediately turned around and rode out the remainder of the 100.

I think it took both of us a WHOLE 1.5 minutes of beer + chair to completely fall asleep in the parking lot.

And that day and ride, my friend, was Bliss.

Is that a ride report?