only in central oregon.................

The rain smelled sweet, the air was warm. “It feels like spring” I said, just as Mary charges past me. We were doing breakaway drills and Mary had decided to go…my legs burned as I chased. She is fast out of the shoot, but the speed is short lived. I am slower at first, but can hold the pace for longer. In this drill, she was kicking my ass.

It was been a great weekend. A weekend only possible in Central Oregon. Let me recap the last few days.

Friday afternoon: Road ride; Hills on Awbrey and a ride with the Girls, followed by weights at Juniper
Saturday: Skating skiing session, taught lessons at the Nordic Center, Tele in the afternoon with Ben
Sunday: Long skate ski session, Tele on the alpine side, ride out east with Mary

It is Sunday afternoon; the sun is trying desperately to break through the rain laden clouds. We are riding out east; my legs are tired, in good way. I can tell I am getting stronger. I didn't race this weekend, I am not yet willing to give up on winter. Cycling season is knocking on the down and I let in once in a while, but it will remain a temporary guest for little while longer. The Banana Belt series starts next weekend and with just one other road race under my belt, I hope to race smarter and stronger.

We make the turn onto Alfalfa Market road, the flag at the intersection indicates we will have a tailwind, I can't complain. Mary and I take turns pulling, we are riding at a good, but comfortable pace and try to keep up the tempo on the rollers. Good practice for the circuit around Hagg Lake. As we approach town, I see Pilot Butte in the distance. The wheels beneath me roll along smoothly and I am thankful to not be doing another 2 hour ride on the trainer.

We part ways in the downtown, Mary heading south, I am heading west. I can't help but smile as I beat the stoplight at the Greenwood intersection.

I love riding bikes and this year, I might actually prove to be good at it.

Cherry Pie - Road Race #1

Mile 14, the gloves had to come off, the sun had come out and I was roasting in my not-so-breathable Team Sunnyside Jacket. The roads were dry, the skies clear and the wheels around me anxious and unpredictable. It was the first road race of the season (and of my career) and everyone was a bit nervous.

Cat 4 riders aren’t the most experienced bunch and I had to work hard just to stay out of trouble. Some were not so lucky. I heard the sound of carbon on pavement and didn’t look back for fear of losing my line. I was riding with the Bend Bike n Sport Team and about 40 other women – the race was just 27 miles in length…. We needed to speed things up.

I tried to push the pace, taking a pull and working hard, but no one else would help and I continually slipped back into the peloton after getting stuck out on the left side for a while, fighting the wind.

In hind sight, I should have just gone for it, tried to make a brake off the front, kept the pace high and see if I could hold it. If nothing else it would have split the field; but I didn’t. I am a rookie. I wasn’t sure how my fitness matched up to the others around me and I didn’t have the confidence to find out.

With confusion in the last 400m when the pace car called for the Women to neutralize so we could get passed by the Cat 5 Men, I finished 9th. I can’t complain, I stayed upright, I finished the race, I got a couple upgrade points; but I know I could have ridden faster, stronger. I shouldn’t have listened to the OBRA officials when they called us to neutralize. I should have ridden smarter, out of the wind until the last 5 miles and then gone for it. We should have organized better, using each other to push the pace. I should have done a lot of things, but in the end, I did train, I did race and will get faster, stronger, and smarter. It is a long season and I am learning.

On the Go-Go

Well, somebody finally let me write for them.
I now have a bi-weekly column, Outdoor Addiction, on the new online community On the Go-Go.

The first light slips through the dark sky, shades of red, pink and orange creep into view. Clouds look like a watercolor painting beginning to take shape. I round the bend and the first glimpses of the mountains are visible. Alpenglow reflecting off the snow covered slopes hit the sleepy town below. The crunch of snow beneath my feet and the consistent, controlled breath moving through my lungs are the only sounds that distract my mind from the calm that surrounds me. Just after 6am, I am the sole runner on the River Trail, making the first tracks on the snow-covered trail. I smile.

Click here to read the rest......

A Mid-Winter Vacation

I see a sign ahead. It reads Paulina Lake Lodge – 1 ¼ miles. I take a deep sight of relief; I can do this. It is Saturday afternoon; the morning was spent at Mt. Bachelor Nordic Center, teaching lessons followed by a 2+ hour skate ski around the middle and lower trails.

I am still in my skate boots, it is 4:00pm, on my back is a pack that must weight close to 30 pounds. It didn’t feel that heavy when I loaded it into the car this morning. I am skating up the snowmobile “groomed” road that leaves 10 miles sno-park toward Paulina Lake Resort. Ben and a group of friends have been there since Friday night. They offered to pick me up at the parking lot at 5pm and take me into the cabin on a snow-mobile. I choose to skate. I question my decision briefly and then the quiet tranquility is suddenly interrupted by the 4th or 5th group of engine revving snowmobiles I have encountered thus far. Skating was the right decision; I don’t like riding on those things.

I make it to the cabin and smile to myself… I have successfully worn myself out. I open the door to feel the warm, woodstove air touch my face. The sense of warmth envelopes my whole body as I step inside.

I have been looking forward to this weekend for some time now; a trip out of town, no phone, no computer, no work, just friends, and snow; a full moon and perhaps some whiskey.
As the moon rose we ventured out on the frozen lake laying just out side of cabin door. The Nordic boots went back on and we skied out onto the fresh, untracked snow. The moon was so bright there was no need for artificial light. We stopped on occasion to take a sip from the flask, warming ourselves from the inside out.
We slept well that night, waking to brilliant sun and blue sky. French toast and real maple syrup fuels us for a day of backcountry skiing. Skinning out to the far left bowls below the towering cathedral of Paulina Peak, we found only wind-effected snow. We skied anyway. Along the ridges we found ice and exposed rock, we skied down through the trees instead.

The sun slipped behind a cloud, the breeze picked up and I zipped my jacket. We made our way back to the cabin, only to pack up the last of our things and head back down the road to where our cars awaited. A few snowmobiles provided transport for the majority of our stuff (they come in handy once in awhile) and we again adorned the Nordic gear for the ski out.

At the cars we hugged each other, already marking our calendars for next year, same weekend. The snow had been rotten, the skiing less than excellent, but as we drove home and reveled in the laughter we had all shared, I realized it wasn’t about the snow, or the skiing, or what line you took down from the top. It was about friends and freedom and the celebration of just how lucky we are.

The Wise Blue Heron

Heading out for a morning run, the sky was just starting to light up and ice crystals glistened and danced as the soft breeze stirred them from their slumber. Town was quiet and smelled fresh and cold, new snow in the mountains brings a delightful aroma to the high desert. A few birds were singing and the squirrels were out gathering what ever there is to gather on a cold February morning. Along the river trail the breeze picked up and I inhaled deeply – I was coming alive…….

And then I saw him, the great blue heron, perched in the reeds, just a few feet from where I passed by. I stopped, quietly observing. He looked at me, blinked and turned away; perfectly still with the exception of the rotation of his neck. I smiled and continued on. Quiet lessons come when you least expect them.

When the weather calls for snow, act accordingly.

An early wake up call, a cup of tea and a few laps on the cone makes for a pretty good morning. Finally, winter came back to Central Oregon and over the past 24 hours Ullr has showered us with 9inches of the powdery white stuff. Under normal circumstances 9 inches would be just another day, but this winter, 9 inches is worthy of the adjectives fabulous, luscious, sweetness.

Ben and I were skinning up under Red Chair about 7 this morning, a few other snow-lovers where sharing in the splendor, including Aaron (the inconspicuous Birthday boy). It was snowing, but the visibility was good and the wind only started blowing when we arrived at the top of the cone – on top we saw Luke, Ryan, and Jenny & Jon – love the small town feel of our own private mountain.

Ben says “Ready?”, “I’ll follow you” I reply and he drops off into fluffy pillows of snow. I spot him below, I make my first turn, let gravity take me, the tele turn… it has only taken me 3 years to figure out how to point my skis down hill and go for it; but finally, I got it! A few more laps and off to work………