Life Cycles

Another snowless day in Idaho. Lifecyles team-two heads out to one of our favorite locations, the Owhyee Front. We decide to climb into the Reynolds creek watershed. Look close, just above the edge of the front door…that’s Squaw Butte in the distance.

The lifecyles Flagship, a 2007 Roubaix. It turned over 13 thousand miles on this trip.

 

Just for the record, that’s the original chain. Unheard of. I’m thinking about contacting Specialized. Thier recommended mileage to change the chain is 2 thousand miles, this chain has far exceeded that.

My total accumulated mileage for 2011…..3255 miles.

I digress: Moving on, we got a really late start, not sure if we would even make it to the summit before dark (we wouldn’t.) Fonda’s bike thermometer registered 32 degrees as we started up the long, long hill.

The scenery is spectacular as the valley drops away.

That’s Bogus Basin in the far distance.

Only a very short downill, the rest is all up. We build up heat as we climb….this would prove to be very cold later.

It’s almost 5 oclock. The sun has set. Its now 29 degrees.

Another shot of the valley. Just awesome.

Nearing the summit, but not sure how much farther, its getting dark. Hard to tell by the photos, but we don’t want to go much longer. We have about a 10 mile downhill…..not something you want to do in the dark. We turn back.

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I just love the way Fonda looks in a Backlava.

Ok I just have to rant about something….wind chill. I believe it to be pure bullsh*t dreamed up by overly dramatic weathermen on TV. For example: we were hitting close to 35 mph on this downhill with a temperature of 29 degrees. That means we would be riding at 50 degrees below zero!!…. My god!… Give me a break.

We get back to the Aztec about 5:40… its getting a bit dark. Fonda’s fingers are so cold, she can’t get her helmet or coat off. I assist as mine have just enough movement left in them. What a great ride……

 

 

 

Lifecycles team three wraps up 2011 with our annual Freezout hillclimb. It was an almost perfect day, a balmy 28 degrees when we began the climb. An not much warmer when we finished.

The two day even begins the night before, when lifecyles team two attends the Mardi Gras ball to kick off the New Years Celebration with our other club, the Silverleaf dance club.

 

As usuall, and as everyone expects, Fonda outdoes herself with this fantastic makup job. She decides on a Peirot theme, which is a version of the french mardi gras. It turns out Fantastic. We are transformed before our very eyes.

With our dear friend Sherry.

Other close friends Dan and Sandy.

We have food, soft drinks and dance till the wee hours.  Our club was the sponsor this year so we had to come up with all the goodies. Living up to our reputation as the most progressive club in the Federation, we also include a pancake and ham breakfast after the ball.

Fonda and Jonathan, our esteemed caller, cuer, and close friend.

Pam and Fonda

Dance!

 

Two peirot clowns doing a two-step. The waltzes were spectacular.

Getting the sparkling grape juice ready, no alcohol….ever.

Jonathan running the big show.

Happy New Year!

The next morning, we have only slept a few hours, we hit the road for our hillclimb.

Beginning the arduous climb.

Much nicer weather than last year. The hill drops away.

 

 

Invigorating.

 

The famous squaw butte in the background as the lifecyles cameraman hands over the camera briefly.

 

I just had to include this shot of Richy’s helmet…..Beautiful.

We make it to the highway 52 summit. Another year behind us.

 

 

Flying down off the mountain, we hit 30 mph. Talk about windchill! What an invigorating way to kick off a new year.

 

 

My apologies to all who follow this blog: I will do better to keep it updated from now on. Since the last entry I’ve had a complete computer meltdown. Its been replaced and I’ve had a heck of a time getting my programs, such as the photo software and sizing stuff back up. It’s still not right, but I’ve almost got it back to normal. Work has also been very demanding: I’m now working twice as hard to make half the money…..okay enough whining.

 

Lifecyles takes it’s first trip ever without our bikes, they just wouldn’t fit on the plane. That’s mount hood down there by the way….and oh yea, we did find some bikes.

Gotta love the progressive city of Portland, my favorite big city behind Seattle……Check it out…they even have a place to put bikes together…priceless. BYT I don’t fly well… I’m about half way sick here.

Like I said, we did find some bikes, but not the kind we’re used to. And there are NO flat spots in Eugene either, it’s all hills, but like I always say… “Its a hill…get over it.”

Our first stop was Becky’s house on the Willamette river at Oregon City. I’m beginning to love this historic city. It’s got charm.

 

You can stand here for hours overlooking the old paper mill.

 

Keaton, my little man had just chomped into a lemon at the Irish pub on the hill above the river. Becky takes us here when we’re in town. The atmosphere here is just amazing. Its a good place to relax, get some great food and drink above the river.

We keep moving. If you’re familiar with Portland at all, you will recognize the infamous Voo Doo doughnut shop. At absolutely must see attraction in Portland.

We rented this 2012 Buick, LaCross. Put 400 miles on it. It was so quiet.

It had everything including an onboard computer that practically drove the car.

 

 

 

 

Our gracious hosts, the Chisholms, let us take their bikes out on our afternoon ride. This is where Kristin is staying with Colin until she moves to Chicago.

 

Look both ways before crossing the street.

 

We went searching for a trail, didn’t find it but the ride was just as good anyway.

 

 

Not the traditional over the bars shot that I usually take, but pretty cool.

 

Eugene has some great trails and back roads. I recommend riding there.

 

We were winded. You can get a great workout on cruisers, especially in hills.

Back at Becky’s house. We are in the company of those furry creatures that we all love around here.

The cat whisperer. “Really! You share your food with a raccoon? Cool!!”

Keaton goofing around trying to keep us entertained so I don’t have to think about getting on a plane the next morning.

First of all I hate flying on nice days. Here the plane is getting de-iced while I have a panic attack.  I start making confffesions to Fonda, because I don’t have much time left.

 

We break through the clouds….but the plane is flying in the wrong direction…oh, no! we’ve been hijacked….the drama continues……

dfs

 

Fonda and I have rode into some interesting places in the past, but the rugged Owhyee mountains have more history, more reclusive, remote secrets than anywhere I’ve ever been.

The Owhyee Front has been described as the most deserted piece of real estate in the lower 48 states.

But people have lived out here for hundreds of years, and left their ancestry. Some still live out here.

 

Even though mountain bikes are more appropriate out here, Fonda and I found this isolated 20 mile blacktop loop by satellite that was perfect for our road bikes.

 

We make sure that we have snacks and water. We’re not sure what’s out there.

Incredible scenery. It reminded me of the Pillars of Rome that we visited about a hundred miles downstream on the Owhyee river last year.

We were headed for a valley that I thought I visited as a child. I remember an ancient church. I doesn’t seem like there’s anything at all out here though.

It was beginning to doubt my instincts when we came to this vista. I knew then that we were on the right path. You could see green vegetation, maybe a creek and some habitation.

The desert dropped away. That has to be it down there.

 

I was disappointed when all we could see was this big old white hall. “That can’t be what I remember.” I yelled at Fonda. “Maybe the church is gone.” Just about then, the old church emerged from behind the building……Cool.

The Catholic mission at Oreana. Like something from an Eastwood movie.

 

 

We just walked around it, took pictures and marveled at the building, built about 1800. They took refuge from Indians, floods and long winters hundreds of miles from the next town. The ghost town of Silver City was probably the closest.

The building in back, I’m guessing was some kind of a cold storage. It was open, but it was a disaster inside.

We desperately wanted to look inside, but there was no way.

 

Believe it or not. A two ladies pulled up in a Lexus and let us in. They were there to clean….incredible timing.

The inside was just as cool as the outside. But had been updated.

I spent the last 17 years of my life doing carvings and building sanctuary furniture, but I have never seen a life-size crucifix with detail like this. Incredible. I found out later that it was carved by a dutch craftsman who specialized in passion carving along the lines of Leonardo Da Vinci.

 

Stepping back out into the bright sunlight we head south into the desert again.

We have to stop at the old cemetery. I wish we had more time.

 

Some ambitious rancher  planted corn along one side. I don’t know where the water comes from to irrigate, but the corn was doing great.

A few miles down the road from the church we enter this weed tunnel. I’ve never seen one like it. Just a tunnel burrowed out on both sides.

The road turns and heads back into the sagebrush.

 

Time for our shock blocks. We have been enjoying these treats. Kind of like the best, most satisfying gummy bear ice cube you’ve ever had. I know that sounds disgusting, but these things are amazing. We had margarita flavor.

The road turns east. I hope it joins the highway 78 again at some point.

 

We come down into I think it was Castle creek. There was more old houses. Some very old.

I would just love to climb the fence and explore that old homestead. But Fonda was insistent. “Don’t even think about it.” she said. “That’s why that sign is there.”

If walls could talk.

Finally we intersect highway 78 again. It’s about six or seven miles back to the Aztec…I think. Not a problem, but the headwind is.

The welcome sight. The headwind took a toll on us. We have ice cold drinks in the cooler.

On the way back home, we stop in the small village of Murhpy. Even though we were tired and sweaty we had to stop here. They have a spectacular museum, and that’s about all they have except a big jail. This credenza came from Silver City.

 

They had a spur and bit collection that was unbelievable. We spent an hour in this amazing museum.

We fueled up a the gas station….. There was something strange about it. Can’t quite put my finger on it though.

Satisfyingly tired, we head home.

 

 

 

Lifecycles spends four incredible days in cycling paradise.  We spend two days cycling the  pristine blacktop along the emerald waters on the trail of the Couer d Alenes, the second day a complete century. On day three we plunge down a rocky, twisted trail from the top of Silver Mountain twice. If that wasn’t enough, on day four we check off the infamous Whitebird hill to our bucket list of hills that are not too tall to climb.

DAY ONE:  We arrive in Kellogg in the afternoon with enough time to visit a historic site that I’ve always wanted to check out.  I had a cousin die in this mine.  And I just read a book about this place. We rode up the trail about 10 miles from Kellogg to visit it.

 

From the trail you ride up a narrow canyon to the mine.  It was supposed to have shut down in 1972. I befriended a caretaker there and he told us they secretly opened up two years ago and getting the mine ready for Silver prices to go up.

143 miners entered the mine that day. 91 of them didn’t make it out alive. It kind of gives you the creeps. It was getting late and we headed back to Kellogg.

Right on the trail there’s this great garden down a few miles from the Sunshine mine. You put your names in a box and the caretaker puts your name on these balls and hangs them. She also gives you a Tibetan style blessing, wising you a safe trip on the trail.

Just a few days ago, I broke a  bridge in half.  So if I look a bit strange, it’s because I’m missing four front teeth on the right side.

This would turn out to be an advantage later. I was heartily accepted into the local community as a hard living hillbilly who just happens to like cycling….but now that I think about it…. that’s about right.

 

 

DAY TWO: We rise up at daybreak. We would ride 100 miles of the trail today. This is the view from the garage at Tony’s house, Fonda’s first husband,a s the sun rises.  He was a generous and gracious host as he offered a place to stay while we were in Kellogg.

We hit the trail. It was already getting hot.

 

One of many bridges across the Couer d Alene river. We would cross many times before staying on the south side of the river to Lake Couer D Alene, 50 miles away.

The trail is the best pavement I’ve ever felt.

 

Just draws you in.

 

We hit an unexpected headwind about 10 miles into the ride when the trail briefly leaves the trees. (no pun intended)

I climbed up on one of the few overpasses before we leave civilization.

 

 

 

The headwind took an unexpected toll on us. We were so tired from it, that we considered abandoning our 100 mile goal.

The town of Harrison, a very welcome sight one of the very few towns along the trail. We would have a nice dinner overlooking the lake and decide how far to push.

This town caters to cyclists.

We had an incredible lunch as we were suffering from endorphin overload. Cyslist recognize this condition as a point where your senses are heightened. This was the best quessadilla and sweet potato fries ever made in the world…ever.

After lunch we both felt normal again and decided to push on to the swinging bridge over the lake, another 10 miles.

 

 

Riding along the shore of this deep blue lake, it’s almost like being on the ocean.

 

 

We make it to the bridge, very happy and exited.

The bridge is scalloped like a fish ladder to aid cyclists, both climbing and descending.

 

The flat spots or “whoop tee dues” are really cool on bikes.

From the top of the world. We hit our halfway point and turn around.

Fonda hits 30 on the way down, gaining weightlessness coming out of the compressions each time.

 

We head back for Kellogg. On the way, we get attacked by these monstrous mosquitoes.

 

Its about 98 degrees. We are overheated at about 85 miles. We stop at one of our favorite places, the Old Mission Inn at Cataldo, right on the trail for the best huckleberry milkshake you can imagine.

DAY THREE: This sign says it all as we climb aboard the gondola to ride it to the top of Silver Mountain.  Is this going to hurt?

 

We have done this before, but it always gives you butterflies to think of going up that high.

 

Kellogg drops away.

 

 

 

I hope we don’t need it.

We try to find one of the easier trails as we don’t have body armor. We do this twice, the second time we are invited to a special downhiller party. They feed us pizza and Red Bull after we make it down safely the first time.

 

I asked them what trail I should take down….they told me this one.

Another top of the world photo before we go down. We are on cross country mountain bikes that we brought from home, not downhill bikes.

It gives you the willies looking over the edge.

 

Fonda did awesome. These trails were technical.

This is so much fun.

After riding about a half hour, we are still high on the mountain.

Going down anyone? That’s the town down there that hopefully, we see pretty soon in one piece.

More twists and turns.

We are getting the feel of mountain bikes again, getting more confident as we pick up more speed.

 

We make it!!!  We get back on the Gondola for another run.

 

On the right is Tony Victory, our host and a man that I’m proud to call my friend. He is also a biker, just a different kind of bike.

DAY FOUR: Two hundred plus miles away, on our way home, we get out the bikes to climb this hill that we’ve always wanted to try at Whitebird.

You can see the switchbacks farther up on top. We would be there in about an hour.

Hot, Fonda’s bike thermometer is 103 degrees.

 

Looking down at some of the switchbacks.

That diagonal line on the hill in the distance is the new highway. The grade we are on is the old highway, mostly abandoned except for sightseeing.

 

Some incredible views and speeds coming down off Whitebird.

Its almost 5 o’clock. We stop to ponder the last few days and feel gratified…..no maybe that’s just sweat. We have about 2 hundred miles to drive. Tired? Yes, but pleasantly satisfied. We are both out of water and we’re HOT. Fonda reminds me we have ice cold red bull, vitamin water and trail mix in the Aztec…. It sounds like a five star dinner…. We FLY down the mountain……

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is the only picture of Captain Vintage Blowout still on his bike. We would witness crashes, blowouts, laughter, creatures, insects, fairies, monsters, vikings, gnomes, superhero’s, hookers……..etc all before noon.

Lifecycles hits one of our favorite rides…Tour de Fat!! As always our close friends and lifecycles team members “Monark Man” aka Buck Nash, “Morning Child” aka Jill Nash, “Rock Legend” Ian Nash,” Pirate Gypsy Woman” aka Fonda and “Captain Vintage Blowout” aka me. Were in attendance. Also along for the ride were close friends, “Tea Bag” aka not sure of his real name, and “Cat Woman,” aka Audra, wife of Tea Bag.

In the staging area Morning Child and Gypsy Woman, examine a rare Tour de Fat license plate.

Getting fired up by medieval drums coming our way to lead the strange procession of creatures and alter ego’s.

We’re off! In a strange quirk. The parade started in reverse, putting the lifecycles team in the lead with three thousand creatures behind us!

Into the first turn heading toward Capitol boulevard. The atmosphere is charged and electric.

See the depot?

Turning onto Capitol Boulevard.

Waiting for the creatures to catch up and form a huge critical mass so we can all cross together.

It takes a few minutes for everyone to get tight. The drums begin chanting louder as everyone gets caught up it the spirit of the Tour de Fat. We all begin to whoop and holler for no real reason……its an incredible feeling. Monark man leads a huge wave.

We pull out onto Capitol….. This is just before I became Captain Vintage Blowout.

BANG!….. Everyone though it was a gunshot… Foxy Brown, a ballerina and a china doll screamed beside me.   “That was me!!!” I shouted to Gypsy woman ahead of me. ” I’m going down with the ship!! Don’t wait.” I yelled. “Save yourself!  See you at the finish line!”

The pavement was probably over 100 degrees… I’m guessing that it was the heat…… and the fact that the tire is 60 years old. We live and learn…… I walked back. It was just me, walking down Capitol Boulevard wearing a pirate costume.

I used this opportunity to photograph this weird procession as I went down with the ship.

This is what cyclist call “critical mass.”

 I was only back a few minutes before they started rolling back to the park.

Tea Bag looks stunning in his Panama hat.

Back in Black…….Ian and a gorilla.

I learned of a horrific crash that Monark Man was involved in. A chain reaction happened when he was clipped by another biker causing him to clip the biker beside him causing a domino effect. Fortunately the biker he crashed into and went down was a girl in a bikini. Still, Monark man was severely traumatized. Here he is showing his damaged bike. These parts are irreplaceable. It broke support springs and scratched the tank.

I hope Monark Man doesn’t need counseling after this horrendous crash. Just relating it to us was almost too much for him.

If it wasn’t enough for lifecyles blogging to handle, Channel six news interviewed us too. We are now on TV.

This was a long, cool woman in a black…huh, she was just ah…um…….gorgeous.

This guy had a pogo stick that would fart fire.

Gypsy woman and superman signing up for free stuff.

There were beautiful women everywhere.

This girl made me a smoothie on her bike powered blender….it was delicious.

Posers.

Color was everywhere.

I think those two with the flower hats were my favorite.

She’s looking into the wrong end of a kaleidoscope.

This guy didn’t give a sh………..

More posers.

It was a weird, skinny crowd at times.

Or not.

There were three thousand of us.

After a long hard day of pillaging, Gypsy Pirate Woman gives Captain Vintage Blowout a ride home.

 

 

Lifecycles flies solo this week to see one of the newest cyclist on the team at the end of the Oregon Trail in Oregon City. Becky, Klayton and Keaton, the happiest little guy I’ve ever seen welcomed me for a three day tour.

This is the monument where the wagons stopped. Just a few yards from here, the mighty Willamette river stopped them at a cliff. They just rolled up in thier wagons and stopped after about six months of traveling. ” I guess this is about as good as any place to stop.” One guy said.

 

Happy happy faces at Becky’s house. Well,  Keaton actually looks kinda scared. “Eeek, the scratchy guy has me!”

The next morning I set out early to explore the city. I find this vertical tower and a really cool cliff-side promenade to ride on.

Wouldn’t you know it, a bike shop at the base of the cliff.

Its’ spectacular, but kinda makes you queasy hanging out over the edge.

This is the original power plant that supplied Portland with power at the turn of the century.

The views of this old industrial complex are just incredible from the promenade in the early morning mist.

It’s a power plant, two old paper mills and a variety of shut down old industrial buildings. I would give my left … to walk around down there.

Water goes in one end, and out the other.

I could have stood there and looked into that complex for hours.

The old part of the powerhouse. Rumor has it that the Japanese is bidding on all that stuff down there. They want to dismantle it and ship it back to Japan. That’s what a tour guide told us anyway.

The promenade keeps going. It was getting late in the morning, and I wanted to get back so Becky, me and Keaton could go out for breakfast.

Becky’s driveway. This city is on three levels of cliff sides.

Her stairs are steep. But its cool.

We decided to have brunch at this little pub overlooking the Willamette and all the old buildings.

This was one of the highlights of the trip. We had sausages on buns and these little pockets of meat and vegetables, everything was Scottish. It was just delicious.  See the cannon on the hillside behind Becky. See Keaton laugh.

The front of the pub wasn’t as nice as the back.

Then we toured the city. This is the vertical cliff elevator from the front.

We rode it up.

And then we took a trolley around town while munching on paper.

The next day we hit the Portland street market. It was even more awesome than I had expected. I had to wear my work t-shirt for a photo op. It’s kinda like the garden gnome thing, how many places can we take the shirts.

Its a jungle out there.

Becky built this radically cool bunch of fresh flowers. The bouquet was stunning.

I had to depart the next day. I had a hill to get over on my bike. This is tThe Columbia river in the gorge from Rowena Crest.  It’s a backroad above the freeway, a ride that I’ve been planning. We do it next year leaving from the Dalles.

I have reached my destination. Although you wouldn’t recognize it it’s one of lifecycle’s favorite locations, the Wildhorse resort. It’s under construction again, soon to be about 500 rooms. This part of the building is now sitting where the swimming pool/ sauna was last time we were here.

 

I still have daylight so I ride out the old emigrant trail road to climb the infamous “cabbage hill.” Never have figured out why they call it that.

 

It turns out to be almost more than I gave it credit for.

Half way up, I’m about seven miles from the Wildhorse. See it between the freeway and the immigrant road. It’s the little box in the middle, in the distance.

I underestimate this hill. It’s a lot like freezout to the tenth power. The problem was that there are no breathers, almost fifteen miles of climbing.

I hadn’t ate today, I think that was part of the reason I started to get a bit queasy on the way up.

The famous cabbage hill, now below me complete with it’s diesel escape truck ramps.

I take a few minutes to reflect from the top of this mountain.  I don’t know why, but I feel at home around here. Even at Wildhorse, and down the road at the little Mission store and Yellowknife community where most of the people are Indians, I’m  relaxed and at peace. I  love my landscapes brown, gray and yellow instead of dense green like most people, and the rolling hills around here just suit me I guess. I think there’s something to be said about the Indians, the way they respect the earth, and those around them.

The next morning I discover that the Wildhorse, in its desire to be a bike friendly resort, built this trail out through the wheat fields. It’s incredible. That’s the Tomastlickt cultural center where the trail starts.

The indian reservation is huge. They have enough land to build trails almost anywhere they want.

This one drops over the hill to the Yellowknife clinic where the immigrant road starts up the hill.  This is just the way to end this journey. Like it began. I get showered up, fire up the Aztec and head home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are so lucky in Idaho.  We have nature and the Old West at our fingertips. Within minutes, we can ride into the past.

Team three establishes a base camp this Saturday from an ice cold spring on the trail at an old west stage stop only a few miles from the Lifecycles home base  for a 30 mile cruise over a desert pass into the antiquated village of Ola.

There are only a few inhabitants in Sweet, Idaho. No services at all anymore.

I remember the last time Fonda and I rode  through here on a day like this. This was a vibrant old tavern and cafe. We had delightfully greasy hamburgers and fries in the old cafe in front. There were antique pictures all over the walls, old guns, spurs and all kinds of western memorabilia. In the back, it opened up into a large dance floor with a stage. Sad that it’s gone, probably forever.

Just outside town, yup a pay phone that actually works.

 

Lifecycles charter member Richy is 31 years old. This may be the first time he’s ever looked at a pay phone.

We FLY out of town on some of the best asphalt I’ve ever seen.

One of the many false summits. They weren’t very steep, a pleasure to climb.

 

Down the opposite side, we lose the nice asphalt at about ten miles in. You can see the Ola valley in the distance.

 

 

Screaming downhills were slowed a bit by headwind, but….. we would take advantage on the way back out.

 

Happy, endorphin fueled people smile a lot.

Dropping into the Ola valley. This is a good as it gets. Remote and scenic, the only sounds coming from the wind around your helmet and the light singing of high-pressure rubber on asphalt.

Quaint little white church welcomes weary wanderers.

Just up the road, another abandoned general store.

 

Again, only a few years ago, you could enter this old store. Walk around on creaky, warped wooden floorboards and buy chips, candy, cold drinks and drink in the ambiance of a 100 year old atmosphere.

How many ranchers and cowboys went through these doors.

Fortunatly, on the far end of a town that’s only about 100 yards long, there sits an old tavern cafe that’s still open.

Welcome to the old west pardner.

 

The lifecycles cameraman bolts for the door for refreshment. He never takes enough water.

 

 

 

Its a strange thing, but we were treated like royalty. When the propriotor walks out from the back, Fonda and Richy bothy knew him. He used to run a pizza place in Emmett. He fell on some bad luck and then some good luck.  He has recently taken over management of this old cafe. We were invited back for pizza, lasagna and any kind of sandwiches we want. We had a very nice visit over tall glasses of ice tea.

 

Do you hear that banjo playing?

 

Did you ever walk into a place where all eyes were on you? This wasn’t one of those places. It was very comfortable sitting and chatting with these pleasant people who seemed to like our company.

 

Its getting along in the afternoon and we head back out.

 

Picking up the tailwind from before, we barely touch the ground heading for the pass.

 

 

Only a few miles from the cold springs, we come to this steep hill. Now I don’t usually like to push a bike up over 40 mph, but with this smooth pavement, it seemed appropriate. We hit 41, 42 and 43 mph in a heartbeat before raising up to slow down. What a ride.

 

 

 

Nothing in the world like ice cold spring water fresh out of the ground. The air temperature was just below 100 degrees.

 

 

The look says it all.

 

 

Transcending

We camp late Friday evening a one of the most  pristine campgrounds I’ve ever been.  It’s  situated right on the upper stretch of the Wieser River Trail

We only have a few hours to explore before it gets dark.

Our goal on this trip to the trail is to try and take our time.  To gets some photos from different angles.

We find them everywhere. Fonda is our close-up camera specialist.

As usual the bridges are just awesome. Sightseeing is the goal.

 

 

Something really took hold here. It may have been the wild mushrooms that we found.

 

Beauty everywhere. Everyone should ride this trail slower at some point.

This is the little portal that leads back down to camp.

 

It has some small switchbacks. Fun on mountain bikes.

 

 

The sun sinks fast. We settle into camp. Roughing it?…. I don’t think so. There is not another camp in sight, very isolated.

 

 

Beef hot dogs, salads, fruit, cheeses and smoked oysters with rosemary and olive oil are on the menu. We desert on coconut chocolate chips.

 

 

And climb into Aztek.

 

The next morning we rise early to see more of the trail at a slower speed. We were amazed at the things that we have never seen before.

 

The sun begins to warm the trail fast.

 

This curved bridge is among my favorites.

 

Songbirds, water and scenery.

Tressels. It’s already 80 degrees in less than one hour.

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone needs to ride this trail. It can renew your spirit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

More transcending.

 

There are all kinds of trees….. like this white birch.

 

 

 

Evergreen camp is only a few miles from here where we  meet our squaredance club for a BBQ and swim. It works out perfect. We gorge ourselves and then lounge around in 105 degree water all afternoon.

 

 

Inside the lodge they are playing old mountain music. It’s quiet, cool and the transcending continues.

 

We drive to McCall in the afternoon and camp at Super 8. Get out dancing clothes on and head to the high school where the annual Funstitute is taking place.

 

We dance until our feet are sore. Everyone else heads to ice cream ally after the dance, but Fonda and I need red meat. We wind up here.

After roughing it, we get up early to find an obscure rail-trail out of McCall. There has been some talk of it, but nobody seems to know where it is.

 

 

We find the bike path that heads to town and decide it will have to do. But I notice something unusual about it, it’s built up like the Weiser River trail. I have my suspicions that it is part of an old railroad bed.

 

We decide to loop through town.  I prefer to keep this pretentious town at arms length though. A bit too many “privileged” people here.  I don’t see the point in buying multi-million dollar toys that you’re afraid to get dirty.

 

 

We head back out of town fast and ride down to this old bridge, now a walking bridge.

After linking together a multitude of short switch backs and trails that don’t link up, we find the entrance to the trail that we started out looking for. It’s brand new, my guess only a few days, or weeks old. They had this registration thing up and we signed it before heading out.

The problem is….we were already late to check out of our motel. We could only ride for a while, but we found the trail for future riding. Hopefully, they will have extended it to Cascade at some point. It’s a great asset, but not nearly as maintained as the WRT.

 

We are SO late and rush back to the motel.

 

 

Past the airport. We make it to the motel and check out 3o minutes late. But they’re cool with it, mostly. It wasn’t a cheap motel, remember that pretentiousness?

 

On the way home, we stop at a very sentimental place in Midvale. Fonda and I took a monumental ride before we were married. After a long, long day on the trail, we rolled into this place to eat. Our butts were so sore that we couldn’t sit on the wooden benches. They’re  gone now, but we still had the finger steaks just like 8 years ago. It really brought back memories.

 

What a weekend.

We rehearsed it and right on cue as we hit “fire in the sky,”  it erupted  right above the stage.

 

A year of planning.  A frantic week of  sound system building pays off better than we could have expected.

Lifecycles goes in a different direction this week.  Three members of team lifecycles also make up a hard rock band. Myself, Richy and Buck are also musicians and along with a charismatic hard country lead singer Jesse, we make up “Dixon Brown.”  The most diverse band in Emmett… maybe even Idaho.

 

 

The day begins at high noon on the 4th moving our gear.  Buck and Jerry, our newest roadie and all around good guy move the 200lb snake down the steps.

 

 

Its already over 80 degrees, fortunately, we only have a few miles to go to get to the island. We have most of the gear loaded in about an hour. We get extra help from another band that will go on before us.

 

 

Guitars, drums and a few electronics go in the Aztec bicycle hauler.

 

 

The organizers built a stage and it was waiting for us when we get there.

 

 

It changes over the next few hours as people filter in and we build the system.

 

 

It’s complete with a backstage dressing and prep area.

 

 

A few simple sound checks.  Most of the day has passed before we take a break and get ready at about 7 o’clock.

 

 

Emmett’s newest band, “The Kleaners” take the stage fronted by Ian Nash.  I think they are all 14 or 15 years old.  It takes nerves of steel to open a show. Great job guys.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our close friend Shell brings her band, the “Single Car Garage Band” and puts on their  professional show. They crowd loves these two. Thanks Shell.

 

 

We have to tear down the stage and get our own stuff up there.  It takes about a half hour. Its hard to tell from the pictures, but there are probably several thousand people around the perimeter of the island by now, and listening in town.

 

 

It gets too dark for the camera to do telephoto, but they’re out there, and more pouring in. It happens all at once.

 

 

We get a few instructions and a bit of planning.

 

 

And hit the stage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

sf

 

We play for about an hour and the organizers take the stage to talk to the community. It give us a chance to swap out guitars and hair for our last set.

 

 

Unleash the Kraken! I mean the ICE.  This guitar is a star by itself.   Actually, I could tune this thing with my eyes closed…. in fact I think that’s what I’m doing…….Hail the Kraken!

 

 

This groupie is so appealing… I think I’ll  take her home with me.

 

Its hard to describe the feeling of thousands of watts of power at your disposal. The system that we built will throw a thunderbolt that can shake the clothing of every single individual most of the way to town.  We assume the roles of rock stars, riding on a wave that grabs you when you get on stage. Its a feeling unlike anything you can imagine.

 

 

Six mikes make the drums a lethal weapon.  Manned by Richy, they thunder almost as loud as the fireworks.

 

Right on cue, the fireworks start on our last song to the chorus of ” Fire in the sky. We finish the song in the strobe like effect of fireworks flashing on guitar necks ….. surreal.