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!

Hitting the Road

Hello my strong friends!

A while back I decided I wanted to do some serious road tripping. So I set about getting a van to build out as a micro RV. I looked at three platforms, the Sprinter, Ford Transit and Ram Promaster. I settled on the Promaster as it's got a few features I prefer, as well as being less expensive.

My plan involved building a raised bed platform for room underneath for bikes and snow gear, insulation, wood paneling, solar panels, galley, the whole 9 yards. Basically something me and Bonnie could live out of for extended periods of time in style and comfort. So without further ado, may I introduce... Biscuit - The Adventure Van!

Bonnie and I just returned from a tour of some hot springs around Oregon and the Biscuit performed like a champ in it's first voyage! We've got some big road trip plans for 2017. I'll be visiting several mountain bike destinations I've been wanted to see for years, including Sedona, Crested Butte, Moab, and many more. 

2016 has been a mixed bag. Loss, heartache, new love, new friendships, pain, happiness, ditching bad habits and embracing healthy new ones. I hope you find yourself in good spirits and living strong healthy lives in 2017 and beyond. 

See you from the road, my friends!

- Ian

Namaste!

Hello my strong friends!

Gratuitous Santa Cruz shot.

Well, some big changes in the life of this intrepid conquerer of mountain ranges. So for those of you who have followed my journey, I hit it kind of hard right out of the gate after surgery and had to learn some hard lessons about letting my body slowly adapt to its new life. It took a while, but I finally accepted the fact that I can no longer be the guy who jumps first and asks questions later.

So in addition to my 100+ miles a week on the mountain bike and intense calisthenics workouts, I've added yoga back into my repertoire. To be completely honest, I was sweating my first class. I've been practicing 'yoga light' on my own, but it's been over 4 years since I attended a serious class. So tensions were rather high.

I experienced some twinges and tightness during class, and easy it was not! But afterwards I felt relaxed and loose on a level I hadn't experienced since long before surgery. So I've been getting my downward dog on 2-3 times a week and feel fairly confident moving forward that this will be yet another tool I can whip out any time I feel the need to literally unwind.

Now one thing I don't believe I ever mentioned was my past as a skate god. I spent my impetuous youth rolling my cares away all over the Bay Area. It's been years since I slapped on my K2 Fatties and 'Roll Bounced' to the beat of Roger and Zapp. But last night that streak came to an end as I glided around with friends at the Santa Cruz Palladium. Holy mother of all that is funky that felt good! I was pretty shaky at first, but after a few beats I fell right back into a smooth rhythm and it was 1992 all over again at 6th Ave in San Francisco. After the surreal and crappy week we've had in this country, it was fun watching people smile and just have fun. And other than being in the woods on my bike, it was the most free I've felt physically in a long time.

Roll Bounce!

Time machine to childhood

OK, but here's the best part, and I'm jumping out of my skin these days with pure joy. I met a girl! OK, a woman, an amazing woman. Someone that flat out makes me ooze love from every cell in my body. Meet Bonnie. Remember that name kids, she's gonna figure prominently in this lucky boy's life for a very long time. She's an artist, a warrior and just the most wonderful collection of intelligence, kindness, strength and beauty I've ever stumbled across. Lucky doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling. She makes me feel...free.

Love

It's been two years and nine months since Germany. There has been nothing linear about this journey, and if this process has taught me anything, it's to be patient. Pain is still a passenger on this road, but it doesn't steer the bus any longer. I never take anything for granted and there is no time for complacency. Every day is an opportunity to get stronger. The pain keeps me hungry, it reminds me that recovery isn't a one week or one month affair. This is a lifelong voyage, and I'm grateful for every second.

Peace and strength my friends!

Ode to Fate

You gave it your best shot.

I weathered the broken bones with muttered patience.

Endless rehab robbed me of precious hours, days, years, decades.

I could easily be an asphalt-stained memory if not for one thing.

You don’t own me.

You never owned me.

“Be careful!”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“Why take so many chances?”

As if you had any say in the matter.

I say when it’s time to go. 

My flicker of time on this spinning rock will end when I pull the plug.

You’re just along for the ride.

I may not be whole.

My body racked with pain.

Concussed memories fade in and out.

Every scar a mark in my personal timeline.

Sleepless nights a constant reminder of risk versus reward.

But your contribution isn’t even measurable.

Regrets? None.

This vessel has been well used.

And will continue to punch a hole in the earth until it can no longer move forward.

Soon I begin my 47th trip around the sun.

If it ends tomorrow I’m satisfied with my time spent.

Until then, bring it.

Take another swing. 

Take as many as you like.

I’ll be too busy living my life to notice.

Nice try...

...but I'm still here, standing tall and lookin' pretty.

Peace out my strong friends!

- Ian

Chasing Wabbits!

Hello friends!

Forgive me, I just realized I never mentioned anything about my first mountain bike race since the comeback! Please forgive the slip!

Anyhoo, back in May I competed in my first race in over 3 years. I had to take almost three weeks off from riding leading up to the race to let my back accept the stem cell injections (doctors orders) so my fitness level for the race wasn't exactly where I'd hoped. But my only goal was to finish the race without embarrassing myself too much. And of course I entered Open Single Speed, because I'm just not that smart.

The course took place in beautiful Wilder Park in Santa Cruz, overlooking the deep blue Pacific then twisting in and out of emerald green forests. Each lap was 11 miles with about 1500 feet of climbing. My class only completed two laps while the pros did three, but at race pace and minimal fitness it felt like twice that amount. I'm a notoriously slow starter, so I got smoked on the initial climb. My old lungs just don't appreciate being played like a bag pipe from a cold start. But once my wind bags settled down and my thighs stopped screaming at me I began sliding into a rhythm and started catching some of the riders in front of me who went out a bit too hard.

Ripping down the Enchanted Forest loop

The course wasn't terribly technical, but there were enough roots and rocks to keep you on your toes. My competitive streak has long since faded into my rear view. The days of caring about where I finish are replaced with blissful joy at the simple and wonderful fact that I can turn a pedal. And as people passed me, and I passed others, I smiled (and heaved and sweated and labored) realizing my journey, while slow, had brought me to a place I secretly feared might never materialize.

So when I crossed the finish line, with no clue as to my finishing position, I was rather shocked to discover I had landed on the 5th and final spot of the podium. The post race beer tasted that much sweeter being able to stand before my fellow racers and receive a medal. Three years removed from my last race and a mountain of pain behind me, I soaked in every second.

Big grins all day long!

I have no plans on returning to racing on a regular basis, picking and choosing from events rather than training for a particular series. These days I can begin a big ride knowing I will finish in manageable pain, rather than complete destruction. This past week saw my biggest numbers to date on the mountain bike over a 7 day stretch, and my legs are cooked as a result. When my legs are more exhausted than my back, that is a good day!

A big week!

I hope this entry into my meager little journal finds you well, my friends.

- Ian