The wheels keep on turning

Hello, Friends!

Well, it's been a while, but if you don't hear from me these days it's because I've been so busy I haven't had much time to write. Borders have been criss-crossed, mountains conquered and dragons slayed!

Where to begin! One goal on this journey is that I haven't made any goals. I haven't preselected any particular direction or followed a specific path. I've simply pointed The Biscuit forward and chased sunsets. I follow suggestions of locals, explore landscapes and hidden treasures that look interesting, and never turn down an opportunity that looks promising. And so far it's been working for me.

As you already know, the bike is my preferred means of mountain transportation. Some people hike, others like to climb, and during the long winter months many like to hurl themselves down heaping servings of powder. But for me, nothing beats pedal power. And this glorious country offers endless opportunities for singletrack expeditions.

Dropping in at Nelson, BC.

Shredding the Gnar at Whistler

Only thing better than riding is sharing it with friends.

I've had the good fortune to have met some amazing people along the way. Another benefit of belonging to the culture of mountain biking is the ease of making friends. Ride up to strangers on a trail and say hello and minutes later you're chasing new friends down amazing mountains. I've seen corners of this country I would have sadly missed had it not been for the kindness of some wonderfully generous people. I've never been much of a planner, admittedly to a fault at times. I've always taken the, 'Just Be' approach in life. It doesn't always pan out well, and it can be frustrating for friends who want to include me in their reindeer games but feel compelled to map out their life knowing I'm going to follow the beat of my own drum. But that's just how I roll and I know no other way. And thankfully they put up with me wandering ways.

But one cannot live by mountain biking alone, and the waters beckon during hot summer days. We experienced an insane winter out here in the Western US. One of the benefits of all this water has been the amount of record snow melt causing rivers to swell with pride. This has afforded me some incredible kayaking experiences. The Virgin River through Zion Canyon, the Colorado River, and Slocan River to name a few, served up refreshing, miles-long paddle adventures.  

Sea kayaking along the Sunshine Coast.

I brought my mother's ashes along on this trip. I spread her around the Rockies from Crested Butte to British Columbia. I held on to some of her ashes with the idea that I would eventually return to the Golden Gate Bridge one day and send mom off one last swan dive into the Pacific Ocean. But I woke up one morning in the small town of Nelson, BC, overlooking Kootenay Lake and realized there would never be a more perfect place to set mom free. So I paddled out to the middle of the lake and released the rest of her ashes into the pristine waters where they would float towards Kootenay River, which is fed by the lake, then make her way to the Columbia River, and eventually to the Pacific Ocean. So mom has the country covered by land and by sea, and I get to visit her any time I like.

I've been living out of The Biscuit full time for the past three months. The positives of living on the road far outweigh any struggles that inevitably befall anyone who has no permanent address. One huge benefit of traveling west of Kansas City is the massive swath of public land available to everyone. The government owns 47% of all land in the western states, which means we the tax payers own it, which means we can camp out on this land legally for free at any time. There is nothing quite like driving down a dirt road, unsure where you might end up, then you discover a private spot next to a beautiful river, or in the shadows of an ancient rock formation.

Laramie, WY

Crested Butte, CO

Moab, UT

There's nothing new or particularly novel about Van Life. But it's become a popular new buzzword in pop culture. But the times, they are a changing. And our public lands are being slowly appropriated by the government. Certain rights about traveling freely in this country that have always been taken for granted are being threatened. And I recommend that you exercise your right to travel now. If you have always wanted to hit the road, but felt life's responsibilities have held you back, don't hesitate. There's no better time than now to take advantage of the freedom to live simply. Any concerns or fears you have about Van Life quickly vanish once you become part of the world of nomads and gypsies. Yes, you will get the occasional sideways glance. Some people just can't understand why anyone would choose to leave the comfort of a 'static' home for the uncertainties of road life. But more often than not I'm greeting by smiling faces and positive greetings.

High above Powell River, BC

Preparing for a ride in Canada means packing bear spray.

Rolling with the Holy Wow Gang in Rossland, BC.

The Biscuit is just getting started and looking forward to a long journey and new adventures. I hope this post finds you well and doing what you love.

Until next time, my friends! Peace out!

- Ian

#vanlife

#getoutandexplore

#livesimply

You Do You

“Do you work?”

“Fuck you, get a job…ha ha!”

“I’m jealous, fuck off!”

More often than not I’m greeted with such comments concerning my recent foray into Van Life. I get it, and it all comes from a place of humor and goodwill, but there is some measure of truth in sarcasm, whether it’s delivered with casual flair or a sharp bite. 

And after a while it starts to take a toll. 

I almost always smile, shrug my shoulders with a, ‘You can do it, too’, sort of grin. But inside I’m thinking, ‘Stop projecting your shit onto me!” I am not the target for your passive aggressive swipes. The CHOICES you make, and I make, determine how much free time we have and how we CHOOSE to use that time.

Now I recognize that some choices are made for us. For those who were born into poverty and are trapped in low income jobs, scraping by from day to day, your options aren’t as broad as say, a software developer earning $250k a year who CHOOSES that massive mortgage and C Class convertible. So I’m not going to throw a blanket over the entire population and claim that everything is a choice. For some choices are easier to make, for others it’s a choice between eating or paying the rent.

With that said, I’ve never lived an extravagant lifestyle. I’ve earned higher than average salaries in my life, but never would I consider myself anything other than working class. But I haven’t been attached to a mortgage in 15 years and recently have scaled back even further. A few years ago I gave away almost everything I owned, and after all was picked clean I was able to squeeze all of my belongings, including my bikes, into my 6 year old Honda Fit. 

I lived in one particular tiny home that could barely be considered a home, with an outdoor shower and a toilet separated from the rest of the hut by a thin curtain.

And I loved it!

My rent was $400, and yes, it was primitive. But I never felt as though I needed more. I had a roof over my head, a bed, means to clean myself and food. As far as I was concerned, I was in heaven. I’ve since ‘upgraded’ to a slightly larger tiny home, with, regrettably, an indoor shower, and higher rent, but still far lower than the local average. 

Friends visit and say, “How cute!” And some might mention how they have always wanted to live in a tiny home, but creature comforts are a hard thing to give up, I know from experience. It’s easy to say you want to live a minimalist lifestyle, but difficult to actually pull the trigger. 

“How did you give your things away?”, is a common question. It’s easy. Give your shit away.

How many pots do you need? How many plates? How many rooms in your house are required to protect your shit? If you want to minimize, less talking, more doing. But in the end, most people can’t part with their shit. And let’s face it, that’s what our stuff is - shit.

But if you want to acquire more and more shit, that’s your choice. I don’t judge you. Buy what you want, it’s your money. But when you ask me how I can live on the road and not have to work, look around at all your shit, and there is your answer.

If you are unhappy or dissatisfied with your life, please don’t sling light hearted jabs in my direction because of some perceived notion that I have, ‘figured it out’. And don’t assume that your time is more valuable because you have less of it. If I accommodate you because I have more free time, and it’s far less an inconvenience for me to work around your schedule, that is MY CHOICE, and one I am almost always happy to make. But if you work 10 hours a day at your management position at some high tech start up, then spend another 2 hours a day in your car so you can arrive home to your 3,000 square foot house with all the trimmings, that is YOUR CHOICE. And your choices, and mine, have no bearing on the value of time.

Your time is no more important or valuable than mine and vice versa. 

Everything in life is a trade off. While you were sitting comfortably on your toilet seat with heated floors keeping your toes warm and forcing out a satisfying crap this morning, I was shitting into a plastic bag in the remote camping area I chose to sleep last night. While you stood under your shower nozzle with 7 levels of high powered jets massaging your tense neck muscles, I was cleaning up with aloe-infused camp wipes. 

While you were relaxing in your plush loveseat sipping your morning coffee, I was laying back in bed inside The Biscuit and writing this little ditty while staring out at this.

My intention isn’t to attack anyone. Quite the opposite. If anything I want people to be happy in wherever they are and whatever they are doing. A lovely new phrase entered my lexicon recently. When asked, “Where are you?”, I respond with, “I’m right here.” And in my response is hopefully a sense of contentment that isn’t hard to decipher.

If you want to simplify your life, go crazy. It’s fun and liberating. But if that’s not your bag, it’s ok. How you choose to live your life has no bearing on my path, and my journey in no way impacts your day to day. 

You do you. I’ll do me.

Peace out!

Your friend,

Ian and The Biscuit

#youdoyou

#livesimply

#doityourway

AZ Crazy!

Hello my strong friends!

I left Los Angeles a couple weeks ago in The Biscuit itching to 'get lost' and spend time checking out new corners of the country on my bikes.  After a stopover in Joshua Tree I made my way to Arizona to sample, once again, the legendary chunk in Sedona. But before shredding the red I decided to stop by Phoenix to visit some friends for a few days.

Now Sedona basks in the glory of having the best mountain biking in the South West, but Phoenix has been getting the shaft as far as I'm concerned. Take away the punishing heat, and more mountain bikers would surely flock to this pile of rocks. What their trail systems lack in outright size and variety is more than made up in technical and challenging terrain. PHX has some world class riding out here in the desert wasteland and it definitely forced me to up my game.

South Mountain just outside Phoenix. Rocky Goodness!

Closing in!

After a very relaxing stay at 'Chateau Jensen', where I spent as much time lounging at my friend's pool as I did pedaling, I hopped over to Prescott to visit another friend who, like me, has some hardware in his spine. Phil has had a rough couple years dealing with complications from 3, yes 3 spine surgeries, but he's finally turned the corner and is improving daily. He's a former competitive triathlete, and also like me, struggles with being off the bike. But he's making excellent progress and by summer's end I expect him to be back on the road putting miles behind him with the wind in his face.

Prescott is a quaint, friendly town situated in a valley surrounded by the beautiful Prescott National Forest. When one thinks of Arizona the first thing that comes to mind isn't Ponderosa Pines, but AZ has far more to offer than cactus and sand.

Watson Lake made for a beautiful spot to cool off after a big ride.

After a couple days the heat was getting a little rough for this West Coast boy, so I hit the road for the postcard views of Sedona. Your heart stops for a second when your eyes get their first glimpse of Red Rock. It's as if a sculptor chiseled the mountains with artisan care. But unfortunately, the heat followed me from Prescott via Phoenix. I took a peep at the forecast, and Sedona wouldn't cool down for a few days. Flagstaff on the other hand was a cool 75 degrees and sunny, so I bugged out for the Alpine Forests of Flagstaff and hid out in the mountains for a few days while waiting for Sedona to chill down. And damn I'm glad I did!

Am I in Tahoe or Arizona?

Struggling to breathe at 9,000 feet.

Like being back home.

I'd never been to Flagstaff, and for some reason I had this image of a conservative enclave of wealthy retirees. I was later corrected and realized I had confused Flagstaff for Scottsdale. Flagstaff is a picturesque town resting at 7,000 feet, with its highest peak reaching an impressive 12,600 feet. Like most college towns it has a fairly progressive feel, easy going, with a healthy selection of craft beer and outdoor activities.

I felt comfortable in Flagstaff, like I do at home in Felton. Being surrounded by mountains makes me feel welcome, at ease. Like I'm home no matter where I lay my head. I spent time asking locals questions about life in Flagstaff, and was greeted by friendly and happy people eager to speak about their hometown in glowing terms. My visit in Flagstaff was far too brief, but I have every intention of returning for a lengthy stay and have placed Flagstaff near the top of my list of potential homes.

Thank you Flagstaff! You were a welcome surprise!

Ok, where were we? Oh yeah, Sedona. The forecast was starting to look far more favorable, so I traveled the 30 miles back to Red Rock City and its now agreeable weather. I found an awesome spot to camp out for a few days just outside town on BLM land that didn't cost The Biscuit a penny.

'Red Rock Inn'

Now I'd been to Sedona once before (a mere 2 months ago). And you'd think I would have been prepared for the view when you roll into town. But as I said, the sight of the Sedona rock formations causes you to stop breathing for a moment. There is no preparing for such a vision. From every angle you are treated to postcard views. It's a visual feast, an eye-gasm, if you will.

Sedona is propped up by the tourism trade. People come from all over the world to photograph themselves under Cathedral Rock, and for good reason. But I can handle large groups of tourists for so long. So I spent only a couple days in Sedona, but I spent my time well and soaked up as much of the landscape as I could.

With legs properly cooked and The Biscuit coated in a fine layer of Red Rock Dust, I'm headed to Utah for some slick rock adventuring. Arizona has been good to me and The Biscuit, and I will definitely return for some more Alpine Adventuring in the future.

Peace out AZ!

Escape from LA

I've been marinating in Santa Monica for the past few days visiting family and chomping at the bit to hit the road. As some of you already know, LA isn't exactly my favorite place in the world. Other than my family, and one of my oldest friends, Julia, who lives on a very special patch of land with her awesome family in Highland Park, I have few reasons to point my compass towards Tinsel Town.  

So tomorrow I'll put LA in my rear view and make my way towards Joshua Tree for a couple days before landing back in Arizona. The mountain bikes are hungry to feast on more red dirt, and I hate making them starve.

Holla!

Shifting gears

Hello my strong friends,

Since the beginning of my little blog that could, I've focused primarily on my recovery, with a few snippets of my personal life tossed in for flavor. Since I'm over three years removed from the surgeon's table and out living my life, I thought it might be time to change things up. So rather than focus on my day to day recovery, I'll simply post up stories from my travels. I'll be spending more time on the road this year, living out of The Biscuit, traversing mountains and sharing beers with whomever crosses my path. And as I'm sure that anyone who has been following my progress will agree, beer stories are for more interesting than how many pull ups I can muster.

Last week Bonnie and I spent her spring break (she's a teacher, don't you know) roaming the San Juan Islands and other parts of the deep PNW (Pacific North West). I've always wanted to check out the San Juans, and they didn't disappoint. We spent most of our time on Orcas Island, a popular tourist destination in the Summer, but decidedly quiet in early Spring, which made for a very relaxing trip. We had hoped to get in some kayaking where, if lucky, we might be treated to a pod of orcas. But conditions weren't conducive to paddling around the island, so we contented ourselves with lush hikes and breathtaking mountain bike rides. We also managed to land a choice, secluded spot on a beautiful lake to park the Biscuit for a few days. Somehow, hot coffee tastes even better while gazing out the double doors of the van onto a rippling mountain lake.

Watching the sun go down over Canada.

I've been living a fairly simple existence these past few years. I've given away most of my possessions, and have found a new sense of fulfillment that comes with living in a tiny home. I have what I need and little else. Except for my mountain bikes. I mean, seriously, who doesn't need multiple bikes! But living in a van for extended periods takes the minimalist lifestyle to another level. I've set up the Biscuit to accommodate at least 3 bikes underneath the bed and have built out a small garage that can handle almost any need. And of course I had to go all first class with the mattress and get a Tempurpedic. I mean, a brother's gotta get a good nights sleep!

Garage inside the Biscuit

I'm often asked how I decide what stays and what goes. It's simple, really. I keep what I actually need, hold onto a few things that have some sentimental value, and everything else is brushed aside. There's only so many pairs of pants a person really needs. I find no joy in the accumulation of things, and a light life is a far easier and more fulfilling life. So the Biscuit has everything I need or want in order to lead a comfortable life while traveling.

Breakfast is served!

Bonnie getting her shred on by the lake.

Moss! Everywhere, wonderful moss!

Orcas Island magical mist!

I'll be hitting the road in a couple weeks for an extended road trip. I'm currently in Portland, but will be heading home to Santa Cruz for a few days before rolling out for the western states. I'm looking forward to seeing old friends and making new ones. So consider this my first of many reports from the road.

Peace out, bean sprouts!

Anniversaries

Hello, Friends!

It's been too long, my apologies once again. My three year anniversary came and went with little fanfare. Normally I would have shouted from the rooftops about my progress, but my surgical anniversary also coincides with the 1 year anniversary of my mother's passing, which happened one day prior. It's difficult for me to celebrate much on that day concerning my current state, so I chose to simply spend the day alone and think about my mom and the wonderful life she gave me.

So every year on February 27th I'll mark another year without my mom, and February 28th I'll quietly mark another year since surgery. There will be no celebrating, but rather quiet reflection.

However, for those of you curious about how I'm doing three years out, I'd have to say a little bit of alright. I just returned from a 4 day mountain biking trip in Sedona, AZ where I shredded some red dirt with a crew of friends from the Bay Area. Now, my friends and I are all highly experienced riders, but we were humbled by some of the truly gnarly, double black diamond trails. Sedona doesn't play when it comes to the gnar, and we were on high alert while traversing Sedona's finest.

The views were ok, I guess...

The Honzo feasted on red dirt

We were there for the Sedona Mountain Bike Festival, complete with fleets of demo's, beer, tacos and music. It felt like home being surrounded by hundreds of other dirties coated in a fine layer of Sedona's red dust, cactus scratches and bloody forearms. Sadly, one of our crew didn't go home quite intact after a failed, but brave attempt down a massive rock face. He's currently scheduled for surgery to repair the puzzle of broken bones in his left wrist. But after some plates and screws he should be good as new.

I logged some serious miles on this trip. I left Portland for Santa Cruz, then bounced to Sedona, then Prescott, and eventually back to Portland. Around 2800 miles in The Biscuit over an 8 day stretch, and while my back was cranky sitting through endless miles of high desert through Arizona and Nevada, I managed to make it back in one piece. One of the benefits of towing a bed around is you can always stop and take a nap no matter where you are. And after popping a Tempurpedic in The Biscuit, any time is nap time!

I even started an Instagram account for The Biscuit. If you'd like to follow along in my adventures you can tag along here.

I'm currently planning to hit the road in early April for an extended journey throughout the western (and maybe some central) states, living full time out of The Biscuit. I'll be visiting friends along the way, but plan to just let the road take The Biscuit wherever the winds allow. As always, I'm happy to talk with anyone who is considering, or has completed surgery. So if our paths intersect, feel free to reach out and let's grab a beer in person.

Until then, The Biscuit and I suggest you get out there and enjoy the view!

High Plains Drifter

Peace out, Friends!