cringing and crying.

It's the end of August. The first issue of Powder Mag showed up at the office last week and I shed some tears. Not ready for winter. Temps are cooling down, leaves are hinting at shades of yellow, the monsoons have returned and Colorado got it's first fall dusting of snow up high. The first white stuff of the season always triggers the early bird specials. Instagram and Facebook are flooded with #TBT shots of last year's powder, trolls shout to the social media world about how amped up they are for the ski season to begin. Ski shops are hosting their pre-season open houses, snowmobile events are getting ready to tease the slednecks and movie tours are booking venues in the ski towns. Many are thinking of trading in their bikes, boots and boats for skis.

Whoa doggies, take a step back and don't torture yourselves. Ski season is a long way off and the next two months are some of the best to enjoy in the mountain west. I'll say it again, I'm not ready for winter. My knee is not ready for winter and my bikes are not ready for winter. We all know old man winter is coming. Patience grasshopper, patience. If you are always looking to tomorrow, you will miss today.

With the best part of bike season still ahead of us, my days are happily spent pushing over the pedals and taking in the change in seasons. I'm not dreaming of winter, yet. Give me another 8 weeks. Over the past 14 days I've spent just about 50 hours on my bicycles. This make me happy, but also a bit fatigued and irritable. Hazy upstairs even on a good day. So, I rested and then rested some more. I ate and drank, then ate and drank even more. Pizza makes me happy, so do beers.

On Saturday, I got out for one of my favorite dirt road loops- the mighty 700. Starting in East Vail and rolling out Red Sandstone Rd. to FS 700. FS 700 runs from the Lost Lake parking lot due west, behind Red and White Mountain on the Eagle's Nest wilderness boundary. It's a 25 mile stretch of dirt with the final miles topping out on Muddy Pass before descending down to HWY131 and Wolcott. It's a quiet, desolate route. I don't really know any other cyclists that explore this area. Maybe because you don't need a 6" bike, knee pads and an agro attitude to do so. Peace and serenity abound in this place.

The ride and Izzy Vibes, who was crashing in the Lupine house with us over the weekend. I have a serious soft spot in my heart for old, yellow dogs. She's 10 and so sweet.

Keeping the pedals light this week in an effort to come back to life by Saturday. Planning on climbing from Boulder up to the highest point in Gilpin County that a bike can be ridden. Should be over 12,000ft, which is even higher than Rollins Pass. But whatever, #noonecares that you slog.

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