Mountain Time

Devil's Thumb, Continental Divide

I’ve been thinking of the mountains and 4,000 footers. After spending the weekend in a resort town I’m missing my Colorado mountains. Not missing them in the sense I want to live there, just missing being surrounded by them and the wilderness.

The cure of the longing is to just head north this weekend and do a hike. I’ve been planning and to-do’ing forever and just haven’t done it. I think the Flume is calling me for a hike tomorrow.

As I piece together all my life’s journals I see notes and thoughts about mountains. Here’s a note and quote from my 2010 journal when I was living in Colorado and working on my book:

Annie Dillard – Pulitzer Prize winning author

I’m reading Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. I’ve never been able to get very far reading this book. I’ve owned it for over 10 years. But for some reason, unknown at the moment, the first three pages brought me into the story. Maybe it’s the changes in my life that brought me to it at this moment.

 

I live by a creek, Tinker Creek, in a valley in Virginia’s Blue Ridge. I think of this house clamped to the side of Tinker Creek as an anchor-hold. It holds me at anchor to the rock bottom of the creek itself and it keeps me steadied in the current, as a sea anchor does. It’s a good place to live; there’s a lot to think about. You can heave your spirit into a mountain and the mountain will keep it, folded, and not throw it back as some creeks will. The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty; I live there. But the mountains are home.

This is how I feel about living here, in my tiny condo on the hill. It’s a good place to live and there’s time to think. The mountains are home, my chosen home. And it is good.

Oh Canada, I love your politics, your people and your landscape

I just got back from a long weekend trip to Mont Tremblant, Quebec, Canada.

Oh, how I love Canada – my friends to the north. Loved traveling through your countryside. However, Montreal, your highway is a bit of a mess. 

About a year ago I registered for Ironman Mont Tremblant thinking what a great location for a race. I’d never been west of Montreal.

What was I thinking?

I was thinking that Mary wanted to go and Mark followed suit. Why the heck not. I can drive to the race and not fly. With my bike in the car I could bring all the gear I needed. My plan was to train like heck on the hills in Concord and run all the hills in the mountains. 

Sweet!

Heading into the weekend I thought I was prepared. Kind of. Well…….. hmmm. I’m not sure…. Some things didn’t go as planned such as motivation and sticking to a training plan. I forget that when it comes to my plans and future goals  – it  is truly a crapshoot.

Crapshoot definition: a risky or uncertain matter.

Yep sounds like my life. And I’m okay with it. Really, really I am. 

Okay – truth: I’ve DNF my last two big races in the last 12 months leading up to the weekend in Mont Tremblant. Ego wise – I needed to finish the %^&$#@%^ thing and retire from Ironman.

Again ….. Well …… I didn’t finish this race, but I had a wicked, awesome vacation and swam 2.4 miles and biked a crazy, hilly 56 miles (I still can’t convert to metric despite loving me some Canada). Holy schnikes Batman, those hills were obscene. I admire every single person who crossed that finish line. Well deserved kudos to every… single …. one!

I’m breaking up with Ironman. I have fallen out of love with you  Ironman – it’s not you, it’s me.

Mont Tremblant had a little to do with it but I was not in love with the bike course. However, I do have to call out the race director, who hugged me and told me how I have to come back soon, after I crashed the finish line with the pros.

Here are the highlights of the road trip north with some pretty cool people. I’d say I’d try it again but I’m retired.

Marianne & Richard – Two peas in a pod. Fun. Adventurous. Kind. Thoughtful. Silly. Richard is a comedian and Marianne gets punchy at 10 pm. They helped me turn the DNF into sherpa-ing and, seriously, it was probably easier to finish the race. 


Mark #13 Ironman. Headed to Kona. Driven. Kind. Accomplished. Steadfast. Travel Buddy. Friend. I admire Mark’s tenacity and his single minded pursuit of a goal. 

The village at Mont Tremblant – so European and beautiful. Am I in Paris or Mont Tremblant? You decide.