Mountain Bike Survival Episode

Today's story really begins on the top of Yosemite Falls. While I was sucking in water from my camelbak I saw some funky, moldy growth going on in the drinking tube. It was gross, but I'm not gonna lie: I was thirsty and I kept on drinking. (Although after that last drink, I stuck with gatorade for the rest of the trip--and a couple of sips from Rachel's camelbak after that ran out). Anyway, after a few failed attempts to clean out the drinking tube back at home I decided I was going to break down and buy a cleaning kit from the local recreational equipment retailer.

Rachel was taking the kids to a park in the Arden area, so I put my mountain bike on the bike rack and tagged along for the ride. Once we got there, I got my bike down and started making my way over to the recreational equipment retailer (referred to from this point as RER). I decided that rather than take the most direct route, which would take me down some super busy streets, I would utilize the off road capabilities of the mountain bike and explore the gravel paths along the levee between Cal Expo and the river.

Turns out the reason I've never been there is because it dead ends at the business 80 overpass that goes over the American River. So I rode back to where I had first got on the bike trail along a weedy and overgrown dirt path below the levee (or whatever you call it). I didn't mind the backtracking; it was cool: I was getting some exercise and seeing a new part of the trail system along the American River, as well as a different view of Cal Expo.

Once I got back on track, I made my way to RER without incident, made my purchase, and got back on the bike trail. And that is where my story really begins.

Pretty much as soon as I got back on the bike trail, which was maybe 1/2 a mile away from RER, I saw that my rear tire was going flat, and I didn't have anything to fix it with. I didn't panic though. Instead, I called Rachel. But Rachel didn't pick up. (I would find later that she had left her phone at home.) I remained calm. I thought about what I could do. My mind flashed back to something I had read in an issue of Bicycling Magazine: You can fill a tire with leaves and grass and it will work well enough for you to pedal to wherever you need to go. I decided that there was no better time or place to put this technique to the test. I found a nice leafy tree, took off my tire, and started to pull leaves off of branches, crumple handfuls up and cram them into the tire. This took a lot of time and, incidentally, a whole lot of leaves. (I wish I had taken a before and after picture of the poor tree that started the day full leafy branches and ended the day, entirely barren of green up to about 7 feet high.)

During the time I was working on filling my tire with leaves, a number of people rode by on their bikes. At first I felt a little goofy, embarrassed even, but as more and more people passed by, without saying a single word, I started to get a little angry. I mean I'm filling my tire with leaves! Obviously I'm having a problem, but for probably a good 20 minutes, maybe even a half hour, no one stops and asks if I need any help. Finally, when I'm almost done, a guy finally stops and asks if he can do anything for me. I thanked him and explained to him what I was doing and that I had read it in a magazine, so even though it looks kind of crazy, it should be fine. He tried again to offer to help, telling me he had a patch kit and a pump. He also told me that he'd definitely never heard anything about filling up a flat tire with leaves and looked quite skeptical. I thanked him again and told him I was good, but to be honest, I was wondering if I should take him up on his offer. I didn't though. I was committed to seeing this through; although to be honest, by this point I had called Rachel at least twice more and had also left a message on the house phone. In survival situations, one should use every means at their disposal--except, I guess, the most efficient (i.e. an offer of a patch and a pump for a flat tire).

As soon as I got my tire back on, I hopped on the bike, began to pedal, and found that . . . it kind of worked. It wasn't a smooth ride by any means. It felt like I was riding over a bunch of 1 to 2 inch bumps, but my rim was off the ground . . . for about half the rotation.

I decided my problem was that I rushed the job a little towards the end. I didn't pack the whole tire well enough. So I pedaled a little ways to a suitably leafy tree and started packing more leaves into the half of the tire that needed it. This time around I had a few people ask me if I was needed any help, but I politely refused. I felt pretty confident that my leaf filled tire was going to work. Plus, I was less than a mile away from the end of the bike trail, and I was sure Rachel was going to call me back any minute.

When I finished, most of the tire was filled enough to keep the rim from touching the ground, but there was still about 3 inches of the tire that needed more filling. But by this time I've been working on my bike for like an hour, and I was done. So I just rode it for about 5 minutes and almost made it off of the bike trail and into downtown. As I was walking the bike the final 100 yards towards the end of the bike trail, I realized my front tire was going flat too. I had found a bunch of thorns in my back tire and had meant to check the front tire before leaving, but by the time I had finally finished working on the rear tire, I had completely forgotten.

So at this point, I was over 4 miles away from my house, I had two flat tires and no access to public trees nor any desire to try to stick more leaves into my tires. I tried to call Rachel a couple more times, but I was a man without faith.

When I got home I saw Rachel's phone on the piano bench in the living room, and she actually pulled up right after I had poured myself a glass of water. I wasn't mad at her for very long though, because she handed me a bag of tacos.

Reflecting on my experience, there are a couple of things I've decided. First of all, I would say that the experiment was ultimately successful: Filling your flat tire with leaves and grass works as an emergency fix. It takes a lot of time and you have to be careful to pack the entire tire, but when you have no other options (because your wife doesn't have her cell phone with her) it will work. So I'd say, overall the experiment was a success. If it ever really came down to it, I would have the confidence that I could make it work. But looking back, what I really should have done was right at the beginning, when I first saw the flat tire and knew I didn't have what I should have had to fix it, I should have walked back to RER, bought a tire and a pump, and ridden home with a little less money and a lot less frustration. But then again, if I had done that, I would have had to wait a long time for my tacos.

Anyway, the picture at the top should make sense now.

Wild Plum Loop Trail 5-30-2011

My mom has been wanting to check out a hike up past Sierra City for a while. So on Memorial Day we headed up. The hike, the Wild Plum Loop Trail, was a pretty good one. It wasn't breathtakingly beautiful or amazingly spectacular, but it was nice. The weather was a little cool. There was still some snow on the ground. The trail brought us next to a creek several times and there were several pretty cascades and waterfalls. We did have some pretty awesome views of the Sierra Buttes. The mountain behind us in the family picture was a particularly cool thing to look at and it was fun to catch different glimpses of it on the hike. I took a lot of pictures of it (and subsequently cut about 8 of them from this post)

Creative use of clothing

 One of my family's favorite pastimes is rock throwing. There was a river below--actually Haypress Creek.

 We also like throwing snowballs. Although some of us don't like to get hit with snowballs. Meghan looks pretty intent on revenge in this picture:

 We tried to do some fishing, but the water was moving pretty swiftly and it was still pretty cold--no luck.

I was cleaning things up and putting things away after the hike when I picked up Abby's backpack. It felt like it was full of rocks; and sure enough, it was.

Father Son Frogs and Fish

 
Last night I loaded up the van, shepherded Lennon into it, and took off for Rancho Seco Lake. My church was having its annual father and son (make it plural if you have more than one son) camp out. It started off a little rocky when both Rachel and I refused to allow Lennon to take any video games. He spent the drive reading The Silver Chair with a surly expression on his face.

Once we pulled up to the campsite though, things got much better. I found a few friends to talk to. Lennon found a bunch of little frogs, which he put in an empty orange juice bottle. We set up the tent. We took a friend and his 3 year old son out in the canoe. We tried to fish, but didn't catch anything. (Lennon was using his frogs as bait).  When we got back and I was loading everything into the car Lennon yelled that he caught one. Sure enough, he landed a crappie.

We got back in time for a fireside devotional where I took a seat to listen and Lennon went to get closer to the fire.  He came back a little while later with one of his frogs impaled on a stick, telling me that he just ate a frog leg--in the car on the way back he had asked me if I dared him to eat one. Of course I did. Sure enough, his little frog--maybe a 1/2 an inch long--had a missing appendage. Lennon ate a second leg and told me it was ok, but the foot was gross. Then he put the rest of it in his mouth, bit down, made a hilarious disgusted face, and then swallowed. He told me later that he knew it was ok to eat it because Bear Grylls said that all frogs are ok to eat except brightly colored ones.

After the fireside we grabbed our box of Sour Patch Kids and bag of Cheetos and headed over to play some Dominican Dominoes. I guess it's a tradition now because we played last year with the same guys. We played till almost 1, or at least I did. Lennon was downing Sour Patch Kids like crazy and getting kind of loopy. He was starting to lose focus. Then he got out the ipod and pretty much gave up on the game. After a while he went back to the tent, where I found him about an hour later blasting the ipod (I could hear it as I approached the tent--and he was wearing head phones) and playing solitaire.

So even though the sun was up at like 6 o 'clock in the morning and by 6:30 it sounded like the whole camp was up (there was even a soccer game going on), Lennon slept in until almost 8. Coincidentally, his awakening coincided almost simultaneously with the serving of breakfast.

This picture was taken after I had packed up everything in the tent, including the sleeping pad that he had been lying on.

While he was asleep, I decided I would do a little fishing from the bank, so I grabbed my fishing rod, still rigged with a plastic worm from the night before, and headed down to the lake for my first fishing of 2011. Within 10 minutes I landed this bad boy:

When I got back, people were lining up for breakfast, so I decided to get Lennon up. (He probably would have slept in longer if I hadn't.)

We ate breakfast and then went out for one last fishing trip before we had to get home.

Lennon caught two more fish: green sunfish, one decent, one smallish, but I didn't have any more luck. At least not as far as the fishing went, but I did feel lucky to be able to spend some time with my boy. On our way back to the boat ramp, Lennon was standing up in the front of the canoe with one foot on the bow deck, like George Washington in that famous painting of the crossing of the Delaware River. I wanted to tell him to sit down and be safe. But I didn't. I let him be. I gave him a little freedom to do what he wanted to do. Maybe he was testing his balance. Maybe he was testing his courage. He didn't seem entirely comfortable standing up in the rocking boat. Maybe he was testing me, seeing how I would react. Maybe he wanted me to tell him to sit down and be safe. I don't know what he was doing. I guess I rarely do. But what I do know is that as I sat back and watched him, he didn't fall. He wobbled a little every now and then. At one point he almost went over, but he didn't. He dropped his front foot back down to the floor, bent his knees a little and threw his arms out to the sides. He almost sat back down, but he didn't. He regained his balance and put his foot back up on the deck. And I didn't say a word. I just watched and thought about how my boy is growing up. He's taking chances. He's trying to keep his balance, maybe trying to find a balance. And I realized that he's still standing. He has a lot of challenges in his life. I'm probably one of them. No, I'm definitely one of them. But he hasn't stopped trying and sat back down. He's staying up and I should give him credit for that. As he stood tall, the morning light reflecting in the gently rippling water around him, I was reminded that he's a great kid. And for some reason, this becomes more apparent when he's away from home and school and his sisters and allowed to stand up in a canoe and, I guess, when he's dared to eat a frog.

The Elusive May is Bike Month T-Shirt:

or How I Got Hosed for Choosing the Bike over the Car

May is Bike Month. I'm not sure if you're aware of that or not, but it is. You can click here and get all the info, but suffice it to say as a bicycle commuter, I am participating. In fact, yesterday I got an email informing me that today from 11 - 1 at the West Steps of the State Capitol was going to be an event called the "Capitol Bikefest." It sounded exciting, but I work. Then I read further and saw that if you bring in a printout showing you are logging your cycling miles on the official website you get a free t-shirt. As you faithful followers know by now, I'll do a lot of things for a free t-shirt, so I was in. I did the planning: Lunch starts at 12:15; my prep (the period I don't teach) is immediately following lunch, so that gives me about an hour and a half to get to the capitol, get my free t-shirt, and get back to school. I asked Rachel if she could pick me up at school and pilot me on my mission and she replied in the affirmative. It was on.

Let me pause here and mention that I had already made one attempt to pick up a free May is Bike Month t-shirt. At the beginning of the month I looked on the official website at the frequently asked questions and was informed that the free shirts would be given out at special events and I should check the events calendar, which, of course, I quickly did. I saw many events scheduled for the month, but did not see any specific mention of the shirts, so I made the assumption that all of the events must have them. I saw that on Thursday afternoons at the Guy West Bridge (behind Sac State) is something called an "Energizer Station" which, according to the website provides refreshments for cyclists. After school I got on the bike and followed my google directions for bikes through some some South Sac neighborhoods and across a few shady walkways across drainage canals (and when I say shady, I'm not talking about the cool respite from the sun provided by trees and other things, I'm talking about the kind with trash, graffiti, and low visibility). Anyway, I eventually made it to the Energizer station only to find that the refreshments consisted of a pack of gummy snacks and a Dixie cup of fruit punch--which I'm not complaining about. It was very kind of the folks who put it together to provide anything at all. The real disappointment was the complete absence of Bike Month t-shirts. The trip wasn't a complete waste. I did get an official May is Bike Month sticker. I also saw two dudes jump off the bridge into the river below while their friend video taped them from the bank. (I just searched for it and found it. Here's the link).

Anyway, this morning I was thinking about my pending trip to the Capitol and I decided that having Rachel pick me up in the van and drive me to get my Bike Month t-shirt was kind of going against the whole spirit of May is Bike Month. I mean the reason it was created in the first place was to get people to use their cars less. I checked google directions and saw that the from the school to the west steps of the Capitol was a little over 7 miles. I did some mental calculations and decided that although it would be close, I could make it on my bike. I would get there right around 1, when they were ending. I could probably even get there a little earlier. That was the way to do it!

At 12:15 I rushed my students out the door, I grabbed my bike, and I walked it through the throng of bustling teenagers scurrying to the cafeteria like hyenas to a wildebeest carcass.

I made it to the west steps with 10 minutes to spare.

I stopped to take it all in. There were all kinds of booths and all kinds of people. It was cool. I decided I had plenty of time to spare, so I stopped and took a few pictures with my cellphone.

My bike wanted its picture taken (I could tell)

To the left of this picture (stage right) was what I was looking for--the booth with the free shirts. Unfortunately, they were packing it up and carting it off. All that remained were a bunch of empty boxes.

On the ride back to school, I had plenty of time to reflect on the irony of my situation: If I had just had Rachel pick me up and drive me to the Capitol, I would be wearing my new May is Bike Month shirt right now. Instead, I chose to actually ride my bike to the bikefest . . . and I got hosed.

Cosumnes River: Second Attempt

In my world things don't happen the way I imagine they will. For example, a couple of weeks ago I took my family up to Placerville to check out a couple of climbing locations described in a rock climbing guidebook I have. In my mind, I visualized us following the directions to the places, going out to the rocks, setting up the anchors, and having a great time as a family, rock climbing. Well, that isn't exactly what happened. We tried to go to two places, both around Placerville. I thought that the first place was now private property and the second missing the anchors that the book promised. Well what actually happened was that I didn't really follow the directions in the book to the first place and ended up a half a mile away from the place it describes in the book. I found the second place, but discovered after arriving home that while the location was correct, I wasn't climbing the right rocks. The rocks I was climbing, and on which I was searching for the bolts to anchor my rope, were just to the right of the rocks that actually have the bolts. (I could actually see a couple of them when I looked at the pictures I had taken). Needless to say, I wanted to take another trip.

Yesterday, while we were getting ready to head out for Rachel's (first ever) race--The Apple Hill Blossom Festival Trail Run, I realized that we could make it a multi sport day since her run was near Placerville.

So after her run (and a good lunch), we headed for the place we had originally missed by 1/2 a mile and this time I really did follow the directions in the book and here's what we found:

A testament to the benefits of proper hydration--You can't cry when you're drinking. If you look carefully, you'll notice that daughter #1 is about ready for some water herself

This is the only place we saw people actually climbing

Here's a closer shot of their setup

It was beautiful and we had a good time but we didn't climb. There were a fair number of people out there and I've made it pretty clear in other posts how I feel about that, but I did have a lot of fun just checking the place out and taking pictures. So it didn't go the way I imagined it, but I pretty much knew I could count on that happening.

You know how some movies start at the end, and then jump back and work their way forward, explaining how that initial scene came to be?

Scene 1: The end of the day yesterday (Wednesday April 20). Abby and Meghan show off some rocks. Suspense builds. Where did these rocks come from? What do they signify?

Scene 2: Backstory--3, maybe 4 years ago. Bill learns how to belay as an adult volunteer at a youth conference. He decides he wants to be a rock climber. He doesn't know any rock climbers (He's not the social type). Eschewing other human beings, he turns to the great ally of the introvert--the internet. He does a lot of reading. His birthday is coming up, and, despite the worry and concern of his wife, also does a lot of spending. Luckily, the spending does not include the $3000 that he submitted as a bid on ebay for a climbing harness after misplacing a decimal and winning the bid before he could figure out how to retract it. Happily, he only spent 5 dollars more than he had hoped to spend.

Bill's brother in law Joe has some experience rappelling and takes him out on two rappelling trips--one near family camp at Sterling Lake and one in Auburn where climbing has been banned some time between Joe's days as a youth and the time of our trip. A quick commando rappel occurs before a hasty retreat back to the cars. They may not have been pretty, but Bill's anchors hold.

Bill goes back to Auburn once more before putting his climbing plans on hold. He keeps the dream alive with the occasional netflix or internet climbing video and assorted purchases, mostly at REI, although, to avoid interacting with other people, and to take advantage of  sweet offers, the occasional Steep and Cheap and Sierra Trading Post online purchase is made as well .

Scene 3: The year leading up to the present: Bill gets in some limited bouldering opportunities and finally gets the courage to enter an indoor climbing gym and climb in front of people who actually know what they're doing. He still lacks formal training but the visits to the gym serve to greatly increase his desire to be a climber, as do the Dirtbag Diaries, a podcast series to which Bill has recently become addicted .

Intermission: The audience takes a break, gets a drink, wonders what all of this has to do with the adorable girls and their rocks and wonders when the director will return to them.

Scene 4: A few days before the present: Bill decides it's time to make another attempt at climbing--on real rocks. Again shying away from contact with other human beings, Bill consults the internet. He reads of some top rope and bouldering opportunities around Placerville, but the beta (Bill attempts to use the language of the climber when he can) is incomplete--mainly because the source is trying to sell guidebooks and doesn't want to give away too much info for free; otherwise, who would buy their books? Bill breaks down and buys their book.

Scene 5: Earlier in the present day, midway through Spring Break: Bill loads the family and his climbing storage bin into his whip: a white Honda Odyssey minivan. He consults his Supertopo guide book, spends too much money filling up the gas tank at Costco and heads out on an exploratory mission. He has two potential climbing sites and his wife is in the passenger seat with the guidebook and the occasional reminder to keep his eyes on the road rather than off to the side at potential boulders on private property. These comments seem to occur mostly on the narrow mountain roads with steep dropoffs while large trucks are passing in the opposite direction, but Bill is not immune to the need for reminders while on the freeway either.

Bill finds what he believes to be the first climbing spot in the guide book. It's fenced off with "no trespassing" signs posted in regular intervals. There are houses nearby and Bill is with his family. It's no time for a commando mission.

Still hopeful, Bill pilots the Odyssey in the direction of the second climbing site. Despite missing the exit, the first time around, Bill is able to follow the directions to the spot. In the climbing book it's known as "Mosquito Coast." In his attempt to find free beta on the internet, Bill learned earlier that there's an area in Nicaragua known as the Mesquito Coast.There is also a film starring Harrison Ford with the same title. While the information is no doubt interesting, and any movie with Harrison Ford worth watching, it doesn't make searching the net for beta on the climbing site very easy.

Bill eventually arrives at the second climbing site. He parks the car in a tiny spot next to a one lane bridge that crosses the South Fork of the American River and gets out to survey the area. He crosses the bridge, finds a small overgrown path that seems to be covered in three leaved fauna and is a bit too steep for young children to safely cross on their own. But he still hasn't learned to identify poison oak correctly. He always thinks he sees it but his kids haven't come down with any rashes in any of their previous hikes, and he can help them one by one on the steep sections. He makes his way down to the bottom of the rocks and sees what to his untrained eyes look like climbable boulders. Bill is beginning to rethink the idea of setting up his novice version of top rope anchors to belay his wife and children and he can't find the anchors the guidebook promises anyway, but he knows his kids will love to scramble around the granite slabs and throw rocks into the swiftly flowing river. He snaps a few pictures for the family blog and makes his way back to the car to bring back the family and the gear.

When he returns to the car, his wife doesn't seem committed to the adventure or motivated by Bill's report, even though he makes no mention of the poison oak and minimizes the steepness of the trail. But she's always been a good sport and she only needs a minimum of persuasion to get out, wait for a couple of vehicles to alternate turns across the one lane bridge and then follow Bill and their children to the awaiting adventure

Some random lady showed up while I was getting the kids out of the car, but this is the only picture in which Lennon isn't hiding behind Rachel so I had to use it.

Here's one without the random lady, but also without Lennon's face

Here's the steep part of the trail. It was slippery too.

This is where the kids waited for me to help them down the last steep section

Abby took this one

There's a little waterfall in the back that I thought was really pretty

The same waterfall and riffles from a different angle (right side now)

We just got Rachel some climbing shoes. She's testing them out.

Meghan spent her time throwing rocks as big as her head into the river. It brought her a lot of enjoyment.

Abby got into the bouldering too

Lennon loves to get to the top

And Abby isn't going to be left behind

Look at Rachel doing a little stemming

Of course I got a little bouldering time too.

The family makes their way down to the riverbank, Bill's oldest child, his son, quickly goes off rock hopping and scrambling. Bill reminds him not to wander too far and to please be very careful. Meanwhile his youngest child makes her way right to the bank of the raging surge that is the river to throw rocks into it. Bill decides to stay near this one. Bill's wife and middle child both put on their climbing shoes and start exploring the rock.

When his wife decides she's ready for a break, she takes charge of the rock thrower and Bill laces up his climbing shoes. After 15 minutes and a few different attempted lines, Bill is forced to admit that his skills are  no match for the rock and neither is his nerve. If only he had a crash pad, he thinks to himself. Then he would have more confidence to try some of the sketchy holds that would be necessary to get himself further up the rock. Bill senses another internet purchase looming in the near future.

Before leaving, Bill sits his family on the rocks and turns on the camera's auto timer. They smile as Bill races the blinking orange light back to his place next to the wife and three children that he loves as much as he loves being outdoors, trying to be adventurous. And then, just to be safe, Bill repeats the process three more times. These pictures are the proof that at the very least Bill made the attempt. His family adventures don't usually turn out the way he envisions them in his mind. After all, what really does? But isn't that part of the adventure, and part of the sense of adventure and willingness to experience life that he hopes to install in his young children?









A gentle rain begins to fall as Bill and his family make their way back up the trail towards the white bridge and the white minivan parked on the other side of it. Along the way Bill notices that the pockets of both of his daughters' jackets are bulging. The girls have stuffed every pocket they can with rocks and are now trudging up the steep hill trying to keep those rocks from both falling out and being spotted by their parents who will surely tell them to leave the rocks there. After all, what are they going to do with them? But the girls know what they're going to do with them: they're going to add them to their collection of rocks, shells, pine cones, twigs, and a stick chewed by a beaver that they've collected on other adventures. Bill thinks to himself that maybe those rocks and shells and sticks and pine cones serve the same purpose as his pictures. They remind the girls of their adventures with their mom and dad and brother. And they're proof that their parents are trying. And if the girls want these souvenirs of family adventure, then maybe, just maybe, their parents are succeeding.

Or maybe they just really like rocks, Bill thinks, after they've returned home from the trip and he's snapped a few photos of the girls posing in the front yard with their new rocks. He smiles to himself and walks over to the computer to blog about the latest family adventure.

Roll Credits