Montana: Land of goats, sunburns and epics

There is something about chasing goats around in the brush and getting sunburnt while building a fence line that is incredibly refreshing after spending the past 6 months with my nose to the grindstone. Riding with juniors on CX bikes (and getting dropped), finding myself lost in the mountains of Montana, running out of food and water with good friends on epic MTB rides, and elk tacos all also seem to bring me back to my roots and stir my motivation.

We all have different things that inspire us to get out of bed in the morning and motor along with our days… for some it’s their kid’s futures, for others money, but I think for the majority of us its a little less tangible… because we have some sort of visceral desire to contribute to society in some way, and find pleasure in the ways we go about our routines. I know personally I lost sight of that over the past 6 months. Or maybe I didn’t loose sight so much as I lost the feeling that what I was doing was somehow contributing to something larger than myself, and I know that I wasn’t always finding pleasure in my routine while living abroad. Even with phenomenal teammates and support from BMC,  because many of the things/people/ideas that enrich life were halfway around the globe, living in Switzerland, living to train and race, started to feel pretty unrewarding at times. I know that probably seems kinda ridiculous to someone who works in the real world… but when a passion and escape become the means to a paycheck, a lot of things get pretty muddled up. And when that passion is all you invest your energy in, well it means it can no longer be an escape. And that’s a damn stressful way to live. So after getting sick in MSA, riding like shit at Windham and Nationals, spending a week on antibiotics and sleeping, I’ve been trying to find a more healthy space to for training and racing to occupy in my life.

Two weeks chasing goats around 10 acres at Allen’s house, building fence, clearing brush and getting sunburnt was my first step in that. I took 10 days off the bike, took some antibiotics, and used my body in a way that it wasn’t used to. I was bug-bitten, sunburned, scratched and sore, and I haven’t felt so good in a while. Once I started to feel healthy again I decided to go exploring with Pete and Lydia on mountain bikes…. And did we explore! We were totally lost as we headed up toward Elkhorn Pass southeast of Big Sky, but somehow amidst what seemed like dozens of unmarked game and horse trails we ended up on the right one. We climbed and climbed toward the wilderness, and away from the rest of the world. We found some amazing descending and then by chance, nearly 2 hrs into a ride, a sign that showed us the way to our own mortality. As we climbed up a muddy, horse wrecked Buffalo Horn trail to what I think was Porcupine Lake, we all decidedly ran out of water and food. It was one of those days where you pass through hunger and into exhaustion and come out on the other side stronger than you were at the beginning. Your body finds a way to make itself go… it’s a transcendent feeling. At the end of an hour-long, Star Wars descent down Porcupine trail, we all seemed to have immense smiles on our faces and ample energy for high fives, wheelies and stoke. I don’t think I’ve ridden anything that cool in a long, long time. The ride took us no less than 6 hrs and the only people we saw had backpacked in from a much closer Tom Miner on the other side of the Gallatin Crest, and gave us strange looks. It was brilliant…

Since then I have slowly started to get back into a rhythm on the bike and in my day to day life. Coffee, goats, breakfast, ride, nap, town, BBQ with friends, goats. It feels really damn good. And I finally feel healthy and strong again. My legs aren’t the hollow shells they were 3 weeks ago, nor do I carry the mental fatigue that plagued me at the end of May and into June.

I also had the opportunity to go up to Helena and hang out with a bunch of super talented Junior CX racers at a USAC camp run by Geoff Proctor this week. I have a lot of confidence in the future of US Cycling after that. It was humbling. Those kids are fast… and they work hard. They are all so much further along in their development and the opportunities that have been presented to them than I was at their age. Some of them are already killing it over in Europe and are only 16 or 17 years old. I didn’t go to Europe until I was 18, and I had my ass handed to me over there until last year when I was 22… I know we all have a different trajectory, but no matter what, those are the kids who will soon be earning the US medals at World Cups and World Championships. It was inspiring to see them riding so hard, and having so much fun doing it. If we could all hold onto that as we grow in this sport, powerful things could happen. I’m going to try by continuing to put off building up the SLR01 that showed up on my doorstep the other day. Proud to say that over the past 10 days of training, I’ve ridden single track each day… and I’m better for it!

Taking the long way home

I’m pretty sure I didn’t sleep at all last night... it wasn’t for lack of trying however. I went to bed at a little after midnight knowing that in an hour or two my teammates would come home from the post-world cup party we were at and proceed to wake me up. So of course, once that seed was planted I didn’t sleep. And then once things did quiet down around two, I laid in bed awaiting the sound of my alarm set at three. Yes, your math is correct, that means I was in bed for about two and a half hours. On the bright side it meant that I arrived in Albany with Marc and the US Devo kids with plenty of time to catch the earlier flight to Newark from Albany; an opportunity for fifteen or twenty minutes of sleep. And I surely slept on the hard, dirty, carpeted floor of the C-Terminal at Newark International airport for at least twenty more minutes during the eight plus hours I just spend in that godforsaken airport. I’m currently somewhere above Indiana I think... en-route to my other least favorite airport, Chicago O’Hare... Where I hope I don’t get to spend the night. My itinerary has changed twice today... not to mention delayed a dozen times or more. I hope my bags show up sometime tomorrow... Its not like I expect to be awake at all though. It’s a little comforting to know that my competition this coming weekend at US Nationals is all going through the exact same thing... Sounds like Sam might get to Missoula tomorrow. Not that I wish this on anyone, it's just good to know I'm not the only one living in airports today. I’m kinda proud of how cool I’ve kept through the day to be completely honest. I’m not sure if I am somewhat admirably coming to realize that there are much more important things to worry about (normally I’d be throwing internal temper tantrums if I was sitting on the tarmac for two hours) or if I just don’t have the energy. I’m kinda thinking it’s the latter. Perhaps though it’s just a comic and fitting way for the universe to get me home. My final destination is a couch in Bozeman, and after nineteen weeks (yes, that’s like four and half months) of being away, what is six more hours really going to do? Nada. It’s been the story of my season up to this point; long drawn out fights getting where I want to go. Whether that means the Olympic selection coming down to the final World Cup and a completely discretionary selection... or examining where I am (physically and emotionally), what I am doing and where I am going... Finding value and substance as I enter this new phase of my life... assessing how to use my energy... All of these and more have been good fights, but none that have come easily this spring. But now as we enter the Dog Days of Summer on this July first, I am in different place than I was when I left cold Montana all those months ago. Its come at a high price but, just as the snow has likely melted off the Bridgers, I feel like some heavy things have melted away into my past too... I feel like there is some clarity. I’ve got a better grasp on where my roots have grown... what’s keeping me upright. I had a pretty miserable reintroduction to North America the past ten days. I bounced off a lot of trees and did some penguin slides in the mud in Mont-Ste-Anne, and after being sick all week in New York my legs decided they didn’t want to go go go like I wanted them to. After two laps I saw the writing on the wall and pulled the plug with eerily little hesitation. Time will tell what happens at Nationals and at the Missoula Pro XCT. I know I have it in me to make some crazy good things happen... but maybe this whole Visa overstay is a blessing in disguise, because it means that instead of going back over to alonely apartment and bouncing off trees at the back of a world cup, ill get to take some time off the bike, backpack a little bit and then spend 4 weeks training at home, at altitude for what its worth, before making a final push for the final couple BMC Cups in Switzerland and World Championships. The way I see it, no matter what, amazing can happen both on and off the bike. That is clear too.

staying up until the sunrises is sometimes the best training

So after that little trip I took up to Zermatt, I came to realize I had zero matches left. I was completely exhausted mentally from 3 months of my little apartment, thousands of miles away from my friends, and 6 months of eat, sleep, train. When I arrived on the starting line in Bern at the beginning of June for the Swiss Bike Trophy, I had nothing to give. Its been a couple, few years since I got pulled in a race, and although some crazy rain made the course a complete mess and impossible to ride in places, that wasn't the reason I didn't finish. I just didn't want to be there, I just didn't want to be racing. I wasn't finding anything redeeming in it for myself. I wanted to go ride sweet trails, drink beer, bbq and be a "normal person" for a bit. I needed  it. I don't know if I've ever been in that place before, it was really uncomfortable and I was seriously examining the value in racing my bike in circles considering my limited time and energy.
Generally I am pretty resourceful, so I called up my friend Felix who lives in Freiburg, and made plans to spend a few days just hanging out riding trails with him. Allen was also coming through Frankfurt on his way home from Russia and I considered cruising up and catching him up there for a few beers too. I just needed anything but my apartment and Valais.
I woke up that wednesday to rain... and although I was still very unsure about whether it would be worth my time to drive up to Frankfurt seeing as how I would be back in Bozeman in a couple weeks time, but I told myself I had nothing better to do and that it wouldn't be something I ended up regretting. I threw my bags and bike into my car before I had time to think any more about the 6 hr drive.
Long story short, after I picked allen up and the airport, we got lost in the red light district of Frankfurt, ate thai food and wondered around drinking beer. And its something I won't ever regret. I slept perhaps 3 hrs max, before we got up to watch the sun rise, drink coffee and then find our way back to the airport. Its a little trip I will remember for the rest of my life... nothing particularly special happened, but it happened at the right time in my life and with my best friend.
I backtracked down to Freiburg and  spend four days riding exclusively awesome single track with Felix, fueled by all that comes with a lack of sleep, espresso, ice cream, and endorphins. I think we were on the  mountain bike for 15 hrs over 4 days, and it was all trail I had never ridden before, even after spending each of the past 4 summers in the area... We only rode in the afternoons, because we were staying up each night until the skies would begin to brighten with the approach of morning. My circadian rhythm and body was pissed at the end of it, but I haven't had such a rewarding 4 days in a long ass time.
After spending all week recovering from the trip (bed at 10pm, waking at 11am) I showed up in Grenichen last weekend ready to rip. I was having a lot of fun with the team, and the course was awesome. I for the first time since probably Houffalize I genuinely had fun racing my bike. And it showed. I finished 15th, which on the surface doesn't sound so hot, but 8 of the worlds top 10 were on the starting line, and the other guys in front of me were all capable of top 15 rides in a world cup. I was stoked. I felt better than I have all season, and I think that is only going to continue to improve.
Tuesday we flew to Quebec, which brought me 6 time zones closer to home. And perhaps for the first time there was something redeeming about the sight of walmart. It at least meant I was on the right continent... Even if the language is still french.
We will see when I get back over to Europe... the olympic team has been announced, and I have no hard feelings whatsoever about not being chosen. I think I could have put in a ride as good as anyone, and my results this season have shown that. But I know Todd has the experience, and Sam has a bright future too. Im happy for those guys and will  totally be cheering for them on Aug 12! In addition to that, the Federal Police in Zurich pulled me aside as I was trying to pass though customs tuesday and told me I had over stayed my visa in Europe by 4 days... so as it stands now I can't go back until Aug 22. That means I miss the final World Cup in Val D'Isere, but means I might be able to sneak in a little mid summer backpacking trip after racing at the Missoula Pro XCT and will give me ample time to kick it in bozone, and ride epic trails before prepping for the final few BMC Cups and World Championships. It also means I have an apartment in Switzerland full of stuff that would do me much more good on this side of the pond as I start trying to find a place to live in Bozeman again...

finding my head space, and a little elbow room

My body is tired and sore. No I didn't race this week, I didn't even ride a bike until today... but I put some serious kilometers and elevation behind me, and the best part is that it was all on foot! Some of my earliest memories, both good and bad, involve trucking down a trail in the woods. You see, in my parents previous lifetimes were both climbing bums... my dad has first accents in the Himalayas to his name, and for a while my mom was an Outward Bound instructor. And in order to insure they were able to continue pursuing their shared passion for getting lost in the woods once they settled down and started a family, growing up I more than once got to dress up in a swimsuit and raincoat with plastic bags around my feet and hike through rainstorms. Memories like that, as well as arguably brighter ones like standing on top of Mt. Rainier, climbing Prussic Peak,  summiting Mt. Hood, sweating up Asgard Pass with Allen and our 70lb packs and breaking ice still incapsulating alpine lakes to go swimming, vividly stick with me, and are some of my most cherished. Those trips instilled a deep passion for hiking and backpacking in me... one that is arguably stronger than my passion on the bike. There is just nothing as humbling and fundamental to me as finding myself alone and surrounded by peaks as old and imposing as time itself.

And after the World Cup in La Bresse, thats exactly what I needed... an escape! Its not that things didn't go well in La Bresse, they actually went quite well. I was 36th again, just like in Houffalize, this time just behind Sam and JB. I did exactly what I think I needed to in order to keep myself in the Olympic conversation. Now its just up to the selection committee... and I have no control over that. But by this point in the season, I have been training for six months, racing for three, and I was in need of a break mentally more than anything.
So where better to go than the Matterhorn... the town of Zermatt. I wanted to do some iconic swiss touristing... And thats exactly what I got. I went with the intention of getting away from my bike, and just finding a place to relax mentally; to hike in the presence of mountains that would take my breath away. I wanted to do something different with my body and go places my bike couldn't take me. And I found some of that... for sure... but I also found myself surrounded by Asian tourists having snowball fights, hiking for 4 hrs and then having trucks drive past or gondolas soar over my head, and in the presence of excess everywhere. I took the cog rail up the Gornergant, and sunburnt my forehead... I hiked along the mountain paths under the radiant sun and Matterhorn... I took tons of photos and I ate 25CHF pizza and 8CHF ice cream.

It's not to say that I didn't enjoy myself... I did completely, and I am so glad I went, because ultimately I've come home ready to start training again. It just wasn't exactly what I expected... I'm in a much better place mentally, than I was just a week ago... I'm no longer tired and a little bored. But Zermatt and the Matterhorn experience just wasn't as powerful as I had hoped it might be. It lacked some sort of authenticity amongst the throngs of people and video cameras. I don't have words to describe the beauty of those mountains, and on Friday when I was really able to get good and away, ditching the trail and wondering up a glacial moraine below the Matterhorn, I was totally spellbound. And then as I approached town on my way home, I again left the trail and found my own little beach in the sun along the river where I was able to swim, eat chocolate and read my book... after all, my mother would be totally disappointed to find out I didn't jump into freezing water when the opportunity presented itself. In the end, I think I like the solitude of the North Cascades a little better :)

From Czech with... well disappointment

I am a little confused about this weekend. I had amazing legs. I know the fitness is absolutely there. But I don’t know if everyone else it just more fit, or my inability to establish a rhythm was the problem. That’s what I feel like the issue was... After an amazing start where I launched myself up into the top 20, I just know I have what it takes to have an amazing race, but I feel like the circumstances, i.e. dealing with traffic, high-speed road sections, having to get on and of the bike, just threw off any sort of rhythm I would have otherwise hoped to establish. I feel like if I had been able to just settle in and have my race, things could have gone completely differently. I always felt like I was racing at someone else’s tempo, slower on the climbs than I would have liked, faster on the descents that I was able to go. And it meant I was constantly at the back of groups, missing moves that were able to move forward and bridge to groups further up. I guess that’s something to chock up into the memory and utilize in the future. I need to stay at the front of these groups instead of being content at the back hoping I get dragged along going forward. the more I can learn the better equipped I will be next time around.

For certain the elites are faster than the U23’s… but I remembered this race playing out with lots of 2-3 person groups separated by 10-15 seconds, a hard race for sure, but one where I was able to race my race… not someone else’s. And that just certainly wasn’t the case this year. I felt like I was always in a group with 8-10 people until the last lap and a half when things finally started to blow up. I think part of that was conditions too, people stuck together because there was a fairly long high-speed road section where it was important to be in a group with the wind. But with just one or two people you work together, in a group of ten people just sit and then attack once the road is over. I have never been very good at that type of racing. I like to be able to dictate my own pace and just go. I can leave it all out there that way. So although certainly there were moments when I was 110% out there, I feel like I averaged maybe 90%. And that’s not good enough to have a good world cup result. It takes 100% the whole time.

Going downhill like a small child doesn’t help either. And I don’t really know what that was about. I stayed off the brakes as much as possible, took the lines that the guys faster than me were taking, but alas I just couldn’t ever find my ability to shred. I guess I just need to think about how to race at other peoples pace better. I think that takes a lot of mental energy, but its there, I just need to tap into that.

I crossed the finish line feeling completely unsatisfied. There were bright spots (awesome start and legs), but it was mostly a race that was full of lack-luster moments. I’m ultimately pretty disappointed because last year I had such a stellar race here. But I feel more focused right now that I did going into the weekend… and my eyes are more fixed on the Olympics than ever. I’d like to believe that if I can put together a stellar race in France, I solidify my potential as an Olympic candidate, which is ultimately what I am after and all I can extend my control over… from there its just up to selection committee. I think Sam locked it up this weekend, and Todd finally showed his cards too, but I don’t think it was any more impressive than my result in Houffalize. I’m ready to learn from this and see what I can do before this big spring campaign is over this coming weekend in La Bresse. I think it would be a little tough to be motivated if it weren’t for the fact that it’s a World Cup and I have incredible fitness right now! I’ve just gotta keep thinking about that. Maybe this is the swift kick in the ass I need for this coming weekend. It’ll sure help me keep my eyes on the prize for one more week!

It is NOT a lonely road to the top

I knew going into this season abroad that at some point the novelty of being in europe full time would wear off. And I knew that I would have to wrestle internally with my justifications for being over here, living a very simple life... day in and day out; sleeping, eating, training and racing. Living in a foreign country, not speaking the language, far away from my friends and family. I didn't know how I would react to it. I knew it had the potential to take what has been a very very good thing, and turn it inside out, opening the door for me to resent my decisions to be over here because they aren't always comfortable, they aren't the same decisions I see my friends making, and they have pulled me physically very far from those closest to me. They have been decisions that haven't necessarily been immediately gratifying, and present challenges I could not have foreseen.

Monterey Bay Aquarium is incredible

That time came as I was sitting in the San Francisco Airport preparing to fly back to Zurich, having just said goodbye to my parents and friends after an incredibly enjoyable week in Monterey at Sea Otter. I had thought it would be a trip that renewed my energy, and gave me a new focus once I got back in europe, but it did exactly the opposite. I found myself suddenly missing all the comfort, laughing and conversation that comes with being around people you care about, have history with... and who share your language. The silence was deafening once I got back into my quiet little apartment in Fully, this shortly after I found out I wouldn't be racing in Heubach that coming weekend in order to focus on recovery and the upcoming world cups... my birthday weekend none the less. I would be sitting quietly in my lonely apartment on my birthday... and at the time that was totally devastating. I went from on top of the world (sans a miserable performance at the Sea Otter) to really really low over the course of a plane flight and train ride. What I came back to wasn't comfortable, it wasn't emotionally secure and to be completely honest, a little boring... which means I had plenty of time to sulk and feel miserable about my "loneliness".  Also it was raining.

As I told a close friend today though, I have a visceral distain for feeling depressed, and generally I am pretty good about channeling my inner Mitch Hoke; that is the ability to view the people and situations I find myself in under very positive light, and not stress over shit that doesn't really matter. 

Some nice views along the roads here in Valais

After a couple well timed emails, Facebook messages, and Skype sessions with those closest to me, I realized how much my life was anything but lonely. A lack of proximity means nothing. Someone once told me that its a lonely road to the top... and I would argue that's impossible, because it takes the support, love and care of so many for any one person to rise to the top. If it were lonely we wouldn't have the Olympics because only the insane would be able to cope with the hours of training, isolation, travel and emotional toll of competition without a vast, supportive and close network of friends and family. Something I am incredibly blessed to have. And I had lost sight of that for those few days. But you all reminded me that I am indeed not alone over here in Switzerland... not at all! Thank you for that! 

So I found myself on my birthday morning smiling while riding my mountain bike in the sun, surrounded by the Alps, and in afternoon I made my way to Sion to watch the Tour de Romandie finish. I spent hours talking with people at the BMC tent, both fans and the marketing people. I turned acquaintances into friendships, and started new ones as David escorted me through the VIP tent introducing me to people who I look forward to seeing again. I came home exhausted, but committed to making something tasty for dinner (I'd already had a birthday dinner of sorts with Mitch and my parents in Monterey), before retiring to my book and some chocolate. I doubt I will ever forget what exactly I did on my 23rd birthday, it made a big impression. 

Birthday Ahi

In some ways it signified a new chapter turned for me. I've greatly expanded the depth and breadth of my relationships here in just a few days (feels like it took long enough); People to train with, people to go out for coffee with and even though Mon francias est miserable... its getting better :) I'm confident in my abilities, and I have reexamined my motives, both rationally and emotionally. Those are two hard things to separate sometimes... and I have a much better grasp on why I am over here, now that the novelty has worn off!

Feeling the Olympics

A lot of times you hear athletes say “yeah I’ve always been working toward becoming an Olympian” or “It was a childhood dream to do win this race”. And perhaps it was, but I think a lot of people on the outside see it as this linear path from childhood dream to Olympian or Tour Champion, ect. I think this journey has a lot of different manifestations, each unique to the athlete, but I have to believe for everyone it’s anything but linear.

I’m sure I dreamed about being an Olympian when I was a kid, but I probably was pretending I was winning a swimming event, or the Marathon or gymnastics in my backyard; I know I never was envisioning myself as an Olympic cyclist, I didn’t even consider it. And none of that was tangible; I couldn’t touch and feel it; it was just part of being a kid. As I have developed in this sport, my coach Jason and I have always talked about building for the next level of racing… First it was State Championships when I was 14, then Nationals when I was 18, then the domestic pro ranks, next racing U23 in Europe, then racing U23 World Cups, now its Elite World Cups… and suddenly the Olympics too! But a common theme for me has been that none of it has ever felt incredibly grandiose, its just seemed like the next logical step. I couldn’t seriously think about racing Elite World Cups when I was just getting ready to start racing as a domestic pro. Sure its something I could talk about, but wasn’t something I could even really conceive or understand when I was struggling to place in the top 40. I just didn’t know what that meant. Its really kinda hard to put this all in words, but I guess what its coming down to is that in December when I was named to the Olympic Long Team I felt like “wow that’s cool, what an honor to be included in this list! The Olympics are the pinnacle of sport!" But I didn’t know what it meant; I couldn’t feel it or really draw much motivation from it.

All of a sudden now I find myself in the midst of what is a legitimately an Olympic bid… I was the second American in South Africa, and the top American in Houffalize, Belgium last week at the second World Cup. At one point part of the way through the race last weekend, I suddenly felt the magnitude of this whole Olympics thing. By this point I was the top American on course, and moving forward, and I started thinking a little about how if I kept this up it would be really stellar for my Olympic prospects. The beginning of the thought was totally analytical, but the end was completely emotional. And this all of a sudden this gave me a huge boost of motivation. There were feelings of pride, accomplishment, humility, raw excitement and passion. It was all of a sudden tangible; I could feel it and ride that excitement. Suddenly I better understood what it could mean to represent the USA as one of the best MTBer’s in the nation (the world for that matter), on an international stage…. On the premier international stage! God it was such a cool feeling!!!

There is still certainly a whole lot of racing left between now and the end of May when the Olympic committee makes their selections for the team. But I find myself in a good place knowing that I am very much going to have to be in that discussion. I can’t say what is best for the team, experience gets the older guys a long way, but youth and raw excitement plays well too… and Rio 2016 always has to be in the discussion; how does a decision potentially effect the outcome of that race? What I can say, is that I now am much more aware of the magnitude and presence of the Olympics… I know what it will mean to me. I know how I will draw motivation from it. This is stuff I didn’t know 5 months ago, and had little knowledge of even 5 days ago… I know it suddenly seems like the next logical step :)