The Grand Tetons National Park

By Mike White, DailyTitan.com

With its scenic views, bristling wildlife and good-old cowboy charm, the small town of Jackson Hole, Wyo. is more than just a home on the range.

As air travelers begin their downward decent into Jackson Airport, the only municipal airport within the national park, they’re treated to the picturesque view of the jagged Grand Teton Mountain Range.

The Jackson Hole valley sits at an elevation of 6,200 feet above sea level and is home to many wildlife including elk, bison, moose and grizzly bears.

The town of Jackson is part of a 97 percent government-owned preservation area including the Grand Teton National Park, Yellowstone National Park and the National Elk Refuge where over 7,000 animals hibernate every winter.

Beyond the wildlife, however, the deeply rooted heritage of Jackson unfolds around its visitors as soon as they arrive in town. Elk antlers in the form of archways are dominant decor marking the entry points of the Jackson Town Square. There, a Clydesdale-drawn stagecoach circles and paces the roads while the driver enthusiastically tells passengers about the Buffalo Bill Cody shootout that occurs every evening.

Down the street, a giant neon sign depicting a cowboy on horseback waving his hat catches your eyes as night falls. Underneath sits the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar and Steakhouse, a well-known place to eat some of Jackson Hole’s finest food.

Buildings made of log and carved wood showcase the western architecture the small town prides. Bear, moose and cowboy souvenirs can be seen in every storefront; tourists can also find huckleberry jam and even chocolate-covered moose droppings.

A few miles north of town, photographers and hikers can take advantage of the sprawling scenery and its mesmerizing wildlife in the national parks.

Moose junction, near the entrance of Grand Teton National Park, is an exciting place for amateur photographers to snap off-shots when the moose come down to cool off or catch a drink in the river.

Photography enthusiasts will also be taken aback by the jagged peaks of the Teton Range, originally named “Les Trois Tetons” (The Three Breasts) by French-Canadian fur trappers in the 1920s, but later given the individual names Grand Teton, Middle Teton and South Teton.

Hikers can partake in the variety of trails at different skill levels the national park offers guests. Beginners are usually directed to the loop at Jenny Lake and if you hike a few miles up, you’ll find breathtaking falls. More experienced hikers can test their skill on the vertical, higher altitude formations.

For those who don’t hike or are looking for other activities, fly-fishing, kayaking, canoeing and even paddle boarding are other activities found at several lakes at the base of the Tetons.

But if you’re looking for something more exciting, whitewater rafting on the Snake River is one of the most favored activities of the summer season.

The scenery along the river banks, home to many bald eagles and osprey, is calm and serene until the water turns into raging rapids. The eight-mile stretch of river sweeps you away through several natural obstacles including rocks, rapids and fallen trees.

Some of the Snake’s most popular features are “The Big Kahuna,” “Lunch Counter” and “Champagne Rapids.”

The Big Kahuna rapid is known for catapulting rafters into the air before dropping them in the water and soaking them. Lunch Counter, which in the spring can become a class IV rapid, a rapid considered difficult with long and powerful currents, standing waves and whirlpools, has become a spot surfers take a liking to; many paddle out and ride stationary waves for more than ten minutes at a time. Champagne, unlike the others, is a turbulent rapid spilling out into deep calm water while sending millions of effervescent bubbles to the surface.

While river activities take up the spring and summer months, skiing, snowboarding and cross-country skiing supply winter travelers with plenty to do.

If you’re looking for a real old-western experience or just wanting to get in touch with some of nature’s most beautiful surroundings, Jackson Hole is the destination for you.

Editor’s note: This version adds comment from The Access Fund.

Climbing in Denali National Park and Preserve, NPS Photo

It will cost more in 2012 to climb Mount McKinley and Mount Foraker in Denali National Park and Preserve, as park officials are moving to offset the cost of protecting and rescuing climbers.

The decision to boost the fee from $200 to $250 for climbers age 24 and younger, and to $350 for all others, comes after a long public engagement process and meetings with the country’s foremost climbing organizations. The exchanges weren’t always complimentary, as at times the climbing community questioned whether all park visitors should bear the costs of the program and insinuated that perhaps Denali’s mountaineering program was bloated.

However, in a prepared statement issued by the park this morning Phil Powers, executive director of the American Alpine Club, expressed satisfaction with the fees.

“This is an example of the kind of considered process that results in policy we can support. I want to applaud (Denali Superintendent) Paul Anderson and the National Park Service for opening up their process and listening to the concerns of the climbing community,” Mr. Powers said.

At The Access Fund, policy director Jason Keith also was satisfied with the outcome.

“It’s been a long road. We didn’t get everything we wanted, but we’re happy with how things worked out in the end,” Mr. Keith said in a phone call with the Traveler, noting in particular the $250 youth fee.

“The park worked hard to get there,” he said.

Denali’s mountaineering program has evolved substantially since 1992, when 13 climbers died on McKinley, which is considered to be one of the most dangerous mountains in the world to summit due to the weather spun off from the Gulf of Alaska. In the aftermath, officials adopted a three-part strategy to heighten the safety of climbers: (1) a mandatory 60-day pre-registration; (2) enhanced preventative search and rescue education (PSAR), and; (3) a special-use fee to partially recover the costs of the program.

That third leg, the special-use fee, in 1995 was set at $150 per climber for those heading up either 20,320-foot McKinley or 17,400-foot Foraker. Part of that revenue was used to establish the 7,200-foot Kahiltna Basecamp, the 14,200-foot Ranger Camp, and the 17,000-foot High Camp for climbing rangers so they could be properly acclimated to the elevation and ready to respond to rescues or other assistance.

The revenues also enabled the park to create a “preventative search and rescue” — PSAR — program to educate climbers to the risks and hazards they might encounter on the mountains. The results of that approach were recognized in 2008, when a “study published in 2008 by the Journal of High Altitude Medicine and Biology concluded that the Denali PSAR program had reduced the fatality rate by 53%.”

However, while the fee increased to $200 per climber in 2005, the park has been spending much more than the revenues generated by the climbers. This past March, park officials said those climbing fees covered just 17 percent of the costs of maintaining the mountaineering program, which for fiscal 2011 was estimated to run $1.1 million.

The park has received a total of $440,000 in base increases to fund the high altitude helicopter program and expects to collect $200,000 from the cost recovery mountaineering special use fee. This leaves $520,000 in direct operating costs that must be funded from either other park program funds, an increase in the user fee, or a combination of both.

Climber numbers over the past decade have remained essentially flat, as has NPS staffing, the park officials noted. Excluding costs of the high altitude helicopter portion of the program, operational expenses have gone up significantly, due mainly to inflation.

In an effort to find a more sustainable funding model, park management began informal discussions in 2006 with leadership from the American Alpine Club, the Access Fund, and the American Mountain Guides Association, as well as park concessioners and other stakeholders in the climbing community. In October 2010, the park formally initiated a proposal to increase the fee.

Almost 500 public comments were submitted, the majority of which indicated they would support some aspect of a climbing fee increase, as long as the increase was reasonable and equitable. Other comments submitted called for the elimination of the use fee altogether, while at the opposite end of the spectrum, several comments suggested full cost recovery including a fee increase up to $1,500 per climber.

The new climbing fees will take effect for the 2012 mountaineering season. In future years, fees will be adjusted periodically based on actual costs, not to exceed changes in the cumulative consumer price index, a park release said.

“Mountain climbing represents a longstanding tradition at Denali National Park dating back to the first ascent of Mt. McKinley in 1913,” said Superintendent Anderson. “Climbing fulfills one of our park’s fundamental purposes. As such, we are committed to sharing in the cost of the program and continuing to allocate appropriate levels of the park’s base funding to the climbing program.”

The superintendent added that the park’s mountaineering program will strive to institute many of the suggestions for operational efficiencies gathered during the public process.

For additional information on the mountaineering program or cost recovery special use fee visit the park website at www.nps.gov/dena/. Contact South District Ranger John Leonard for questions about the fee at (907) 733-9105 or john_leonard@nps.gov.

The park is located a days drive east from Anchorage and lies adjacent to Canada’s Kluane National Park. There are three ways to view and get into the interior of the park. The 61-mile McCarthy Road is a dirt and gravel road that can take up to 3 hours to traverse. The Nabesna Road is a 42-mile gravel road from Slana to Nabesna that traverses the headwaters country of the Copper and Tanana drainages. The third way to view the park is by airplane where you can fly past massive peaks, over jagged glaciers, and endless expanses of wild Alaska.

The park and preserve encompasses four mountain ranges, the Chugach, the Wrangell, the Saint Elias, and the end of the Alaska Range on the northern borders. This in turn holds some of North America’s most remote wilderness. The terrain runs the gamut of mountains, glaciers, coastal and intertidal communities, rivers and lakes. Mountain climbing and ice climbing are big options to consider.

This truly wild Alaska is waiting to be explored by kayak, rafting, hiking, backpacking, mountaineering and mountain biking. Mountain biking can be done on the McCarthy and Nabesna Roads, some dry creek beds and a number of trails in the Glennallen, Copper Center-Chitina area. Sea kayaking can be done in Icy Bay on the coast and along the 150 miles of rugged coastline. Keep in mind that the coastline is for experienced sea kayakers as the coastline is wild and exposed to the open waters of the Gulf of Alaska or Yakutat Bay. Most kayakers are flown into the area to start at Kageet Point on the eastern edge of Icy Bay or Pt. Riou, located on Chugach Alaska Native Corporation land southeast of Icy Bay. Rafting opportunities are available in the rivers.

Hiking and backpacking can be done almost anywhere in the park, but conditions can often be muddy. Better hiking is available on the trails and routes that lead into the Mentasta Mountains north of Nabesna Road or past mile 36. You can also charter a plane to drop you off in the more remote interior. The landscape offers tremendous scenery and wildlife viewing. During the summer there are a wide variety of beautiful butterflies to be seen.

There are ample opportunities for fishing in the park and preserve. With the numerous lakes and rivers it can be a fly fisherman’s dream. Grayling, whitefish, Dolly Varden, lake trout, rainbow/steelhead trout, cutthroat trout, sculpin, burbot, lamprey, smelts, and suckers are all found in the park. The Gulkana River is a good place to catch salmon.

Sport hunting is allowed only in the preserve and in accordance with Alaskan regulations. It probably offers one of the biggest varieties of animals to hunt in the state. There are opportunities to hunt bear, Dall sheep, mountain goat, muskoxen, moose, waterfowl, and caribou. Off-road vehicles (ORV) can be used on established routes.

Winter also offers its share of outdoor adventure. Ice climbing, cross country skiing, snow skiing, snowmobiling, and snow shoeing are all options to enjoy if you love the cold weather. Remember that it can get minus 50 degrees F. in the dead of winter.

So no matter what your outdoor pleasure is, if you enjoy solitude and ruggedness, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve is the place for you. With the numerous shorebirds and two passerine migratory routes, the numerous wildlife, dragonflies and unique butterflies along with the rugged beauty of the terrain, you will experience something you won’t get any where else. This is definitely a park that should be on your must-see list.

It’s pretty simple to get off the beaten path in this video about Biscayne National Park because there is no path. Biscayne’s park features are 95% underwater. Listen as Park Ranger Rebecca Haynes takes you through the unique attributes of Mangroves.

So this Wheeler trail is beautiful and a great place to take your bike for a walk, because all the gears in China aren’t riding that climb. Again, the Breck Epic delivers the Big Ride in race form. Yeah these aren’t the 6 hour days of the Transalp, but it also isn’t riding a 3% grade up a paved road for two-and-a-half hours either. In fact, thus far, I’d say this race combines the beautiful high alpine riding of the Transalp with the luscious singletrack of the BC bike race into one tasty package.  I love it.

So after nearly an hour of hike-a-bike, we topped out on the East facing flanks of the Ten Mile range and rode some soggy singletrack that kept us from taking in the views.  Having ridden this trail before, the view is of the Gore range, a fairly remote range north of Summit.  Cross the service road, lots of photographers, and see my good friend Catherine cheering us all on. Then we boot up to Wheeler pass where we are greeted by a nearly fifty mile-an-hour wind. Then it’s a three thousand foot descent to Ten Mile Canyon and the bike path. Loose high alpine trail gave way to bermed turns and stream crossings.  Hit the bike path and watch the geared bikers pass me by. At one point I try and catch a draft from a fifty year old lady with a lunch box on the back of her cruiser, but she, too drops me. The singlespeed does have its limitations.

In the singlespeed category, I pretty much saw my last-day podium hopes vanish as Jake simply rode away from me today. In fact he was second on the day. I have really enjoyed this competition and will come out as strong as I can tomorrow hoping for a miracle. There has been great camaraderie amongst all the singlespeeders and they are a great bunch of guys and girl. On the eve of the final stage, I can say this has been one of the most enjoyable weeks of my life, watching this incredible event come together in the mountains where I ride whenever I get the chance. As the fatigue of the week has set in, my ability to lay down witty blogs appears to be falling off. Thanks for reading.

I've been thinking of Guzzwell's definition of sailing a lot lately. At first, it suggests a 50-50 cut: half preparing, and half dealing. That's not the split on Syzygy these days. Lately, it seems like 99% preparing, and 1% dealing. It's frustrating, because the adventure is in the dealing, and here the preparing part is languishing interminably. We tear stuff out. We fix stuff. We make a mess. We clean it up. We buy things. We install them. We imagine that we are improving our boat -- that we are making it more suitable for long passages and burly weather and rugged conditions -- and we are. It just all seems so theoretical, so abstract. We want some hard evidence, damn it.

Our current preparations --  a new (way more efficient) fridge, a new (better located) propane locker, and a new (far stronger and more adaptable) radar/solar/wind-generator arch -- are, of course, bigger and badder than those behind us, and for some ridiculous reason we've chosen to tackle them simultaneously. Matt and I have convinced ourselves that, as such, they comprise "the hump." Getting over the hump is what we dream about. Getting over it will mean we're about 75% through our refit agenda, an achievement so staggering I'm somewhat scared to mention it. We imagine that the pressure, the frustration, and the difficulty will wane once we get over the hump. But John Guzzwell didn't mention anything about a hump. He just said prepare and deal. Believe me, we are preparing. If anything, we're preparing so much that we have to deal with it.

Mid-hump, there's only one consolation, and it's not pretty. Schadenfreude bolsters our spirits, gives us perspective. Things don't seem so bad when I think about Robert, whose boom snapped in two while sailing on a not-particularly-windy day. Things seem OK on Syzygy when I think about Jim's mainsail ripping clear across. The pace at which we're proceeding seems more tolerable when I think of Marcus, who spent almost $4,000, and six months, building a new fridge.

And then there's Stuart, who returned two weeks ago, with a new engine and $17,000 less in his bank account. Not knowing quite how to ask if he was satisfied with the result, I asked him, "Does it sound good?" "It sounds like an opera," he said. "Wanna see?" I was glad he asked. It was beautiful, bright red and shiny as a fire truck.

A few days later, Stuart invited me over for a beer. We sat in the cockpit, listening to seagulls squawk over fish guts on a nearby trawler.  The sun was low, the wind calm. Without prefacing it, he said, "Wanna hear it?" I said yeah. Stuart turned a switch, the oil-pressure alarm rang briefly, and then the engine started up. It purred, smooth and confident. Stuart said he might not even install sound-proof insulation in his engine compartment, given how quiet it ran. I was impressed.

The schadenfreude faded to envy. I can't wait to feel that way about my boat.

--Jonny Waldman

[ More, as always, is at SyzygySailing.com ]

Now some of you may be wondering about the belt driven bike. It’s a belt, just like that found on Harleys, instead of a chain. It’s strong as hell, nearly maintenance free, super light and lasts something like five years. It takes a bit of time to get set up correctly, but once done, it’s bomber. It does require an interruption in the frame to get the belt into the rear triangle, but after riding two of these bikes, I’ve heard nary a creak from the frame.  After a couple of days of racing, I am giving it zero thought, which is exactly the point. It has generated a ton of interest here at the Breck Epic as well as everywhere else I’ve ridden it, but when I offered free test rides during the backbreaking climb up French Gulch, nobody was all that interested. Weird.

I started the day in third place in the men’s singlespeed category, but Jake Kirkpatrick put the hurt on, knocking me off my first ever podium. In fact, there were some great shakeups in the men’s singlepeed category overall making it a hotly contested category.  I didn’t give up without a fight though.  It was back and forth until the climb up French Gulch, when he pulled ahead on the steep climb, which is of course a hike-a-bike for singlespeeders. After cresting the hill, I lit up the descent as fast I could, but he was gone. I fought as hard as could all day, climbing as fast as I could, skipping aid stations, squeezing Gu’s in my face at an alarming rate, but Jake finished 5 minutes ahead. I was so shelled in the closing miles of the race that I there were tears streaming down my face. This singlespeed racing business is no picnic my friends.

My friend Cristina and I are both racing the belt drive and we are both suffering, although she seems to be holding it together a bit better as she is in second overall in women’s open. Granted she’s a mountain bike legend. In any event, we had some larger rear cogs couriered up from Spot in Golden to take the bite out of the climbs. We’ll need it, as we are climbing over Wheeler Pass tomorrow. Ouch.

Thanks for reading, I’m whipped and need some sleep, but couldn’t be happier with the inaugural Breck Epic. Like bike racing? Put it on your calendar for 2010. 

Most riders are either off the course or will be finishing the 2009 Tour Divide race soon. Despite the phantasmagorical weather this year, most records fell—an interesting portent for the evolution of self-supported Continental Divide racing. Alaskan Jill Homer broke the female record with a time of 24 days, 7 hours and 24 minutes. Jay and Tracey “T-Race” Petervary set a tandem (that’s right) record of 18:13:44. And 27-year-old engineer-turned-teacher Chris Plesko blew the asterisks off the single speed record in the 2009 Tour Divide with a time of nineteen days and sixteen minutes. He spun his Vassago 29er through unprecedented bad weather. I caught up with him just after he returned home to Colorado.

JB: How the hell did you keep up with the chase group for most of the race? They had gears (in case you didn't notice).

CP: The first part of the race course is quite singlespeed friendly. It's got loads of climbing and not too many long, gradual downhills which are my nemesis from the perspective of racing with the geared guys heads up. I geared really big (for me) at 32x17 but I knew from training in the mountains above Boulder with a 32x16 that I could push
that gear up almost all of the climbs without walking. Additionally I just tried to save time where ever I could, eating and drinking on the fly, changing clothes while riding, etc.

JB: You not only ride a single speed, but a rigid one. Are you a hippie?

CP: Haha nah I'm as far from a hippie as you can get probably. I love technology most of the time. I'll have to blame Dave Nice for riding rigid. I actually love the Rock Shox Reba forks but Dave gave me a rigid fork for my old Monocog one winter and I soon fell in love with the handling and simplicity of the rigid. No stanchions to freeze up in the winter slush, no pressure settings to fiddle with, just get out and ride. Plus I'm a decent expert XC racer but a terrible pro class competitor, even with gears and suspension, so the rigid singlespeed keeps things interesting in the expert class.

JB: You started last year and pulled the plug--what was different this year, considering the weather was epic?

CP: Experience, plain and simple. Like I mentioned before, I tend to jump right into these things whether I'm totally "ready" or not. Last year I still hadn't successfully completed a multi day endurance race but I wanted to give this a try anyway. Plus I didn't want to choose sides between the TD and GDR since I have good friends firmly on both sides
so I did an individual time trial. Between my lack of experience and the loneliness of the ITT, all the little problems that cropped up (achillies pain, lost GPS) made me pretty unhappy and I felt like I wasn't really racing as hard as I should be. Luckily Marni planted the Colorado Trail race seed in my head as soon as she picked me up from
Lima and I had really good success there finally. Of course in hindsight I should have kept going last year on the Divide because the weather was bomber compared to this year!

JB: From your call-ins you sound like the most positive person on the planet. Are you?

CP: In general I think I'm pretty positive. I feel extremely lucky to have a great wife, wonderful family and supportive friends. The off road ultra racing community is just incredible. We are all out there racing each other, pushing hard and yet we still are so crazy psyched when our buddies succeed. It's hard not to be positive when you've got that
kind of support. When we were dealing with the snow I thought of the epic AZT 300 this year and when the mud was horrendous I thought of all my Grand Loop buddies who battled truely epic mud this year. I do get down and have low moments like everyone does but generally I was having a ton of fun out there and that's the overriding goal.

JB: Were you ever tempted to get to a town, call Marni, and go home?

CP: This year, no. I am amazed myself that I never felt like pulling out this go around after how I felt last year. I did really miss Marni and wanted to see her, which I was able to do in Colorado, but I had no desire to go home until I got to Mexico.

JB: When I did the GDR in 2007, while I was riding I fantasized about baking. I went home and made muffins every day for a month. What did you think about when you were riding all those lonely hours?

CP: Anything and everything. Lately I've been climbing more in the mountains and I did think a lot about that, especially riding by the Tetons and near all the obscure rock formations scattered about the route. Kurt (Refsnider) is a Phd geology wiz and I loved learning about all the science behind everything from him. In fact my theme for racing in
2009 is "commitment" in honor of all the self sufficient alpinists who go out there and commit to huge routes with no chance for bailing. The Divide is even a little tame by comparison, at least from that perspective. I also thought a lot about my life and how much my wife and I have grown together through biking and touring and how much I
can't wait to do more of that. Sharing bike touring routes with friends and family, whatever their ability level, has been really amazing the past few years.

JB: Thousands of spectators watched your record-breaking ride this year. What advice do you have for the two or three who are convinced they can challenge the Divide on a single speed?

CP: For those who want the record, come prepared to race heads up with the geared riders. You chose a singlespeed and that's awesome but it's a choice you made so don't treat it like a handicap. For those who want to finish the Divide on a singlespeed, just make sure it's geared appropriately. Make sure you can climb the majority of the climbs on the route with your gearing and train on the road with the same gear to learn to deal with long term high speed spinning. As far as I know the successful people have run somewhere between 32x17 on a 26er and 32x17 on a 29er.

JB: What's the one thing you wished you'd known before setting out this year?

CP: That the weather was going to be epicly wet? My clothing was sufficient but not awesome for extended wet weather riding. I was quite wet and cold at times and did eventually have Marni mail me a Smartwool long sleeve base layer and a warm hat. Those who aren't totally experienced with going really light in bad weather, make sure
you bring enough warm clothing.

JB: Kent Peterson told me he's happy you broke his record. How important was his 2005 ride to you?

CP: It was pretty important to me actually. I had quite a few people last year who really doubted I could ride the Divide on a rigid singlespeed without hurting myself permanently. I'm a long time reader of Kent's blog and I read his Mountain Turtle story over and over again to both learn about the route and also to realize it could be done on a rigid singlespeed. He is very inspiring to me and I'm really excited to hear he will be riding the full route in 2010. He will just love the Canadian section, it's so beautiful.

JB: What does Chris Plesko eat for breakfast in, say, Del Norte? What does he buy at the Piggly Wiggly to get him over Indiana Pass?

CP: Breakfast for me on the trail almost always includes coffee of some kind even though I don't regularly drink it at home other than on our weekly friday morning Starbucks date. A little canned Starbucks DoubleShot with a couple 600 calorie muffins or danishes was my usual breakfast. If I was lucky I got a couple microwave egg sandwiches or breakfast burritos and a couple times I actually got a real hot breakfast of pancakes, omelets, potatoes and even green chili in Rawlins! In the worst stretch I didn't get a single hot meal for over 300 miles. My trail food was heavily peanut based now that I think about it. I ate dozens of Reese's Peanut butter cups, pack upon pack of king size peanut M&Ms, peanut butter Twix when I could find them and just plain old salted and honey roasted peanuts. Anything new and novel and easy to eat, pizza, cheese bread, cheese sticks, ice cream, brownies, donuts and all kinds of other junk food found it's way into my frame
bag too. The key is just to keep eating whatever you can get down because there was no way I could get close to enough calories out down the hatch out there.

JB: What's next? You gonna be back in Banff next year?

CP: Next up is a lot of recovery but perhaps a 1200k randonee or TransUtah later this year. I do want to qualify for Paris-Brest-Paris in 2011 and I'd love to keep my options open with a RAAM qualifier at some point. I can't really afford RAAM right now but it is intriguing. Next year I won't be back to race from Banff but I do plan to go back to the Grand Loop and perhaps up to the Ultrasport in March if I can figure out how to get up there. I have some other plans for next summer but they're not ready for public announcement at this point.

JB: The Tour de France started Saturday. Will you be kicking back with a few Dale's Pale Ales and yelling "Pussies!" at the plasma screen?

CP: I'm more of a wine or stout drinker these days but I'll definitely be keeping tabs on the Tour. It's really fun to watch those guys duke it out, even if they do sleep, get fed and get massages every night. Besides I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see how Lance is going to do.

 After the stage we joked that watching each other over our shoulders on the climbs was like the zombie-chasing-the-blonde in B horror flick. We’d glance back and see the other person moving so slowly, and then a few seconds later we’d look again and the other person would be closer. I didn’t let out a blood curdling scream, only because I couldn’t frickin’ breathe.

So today’s stage was awesome. We once again awoke to perfect blue skies, low humidity and cool temps. After a “neutral” start, we climbed Boreas Pass Road for a bit only to bomb down the Aspen Grove Trail. This is the kind of trail you see on granola bar ads on TV.  The field was tight and there was fast and fun wheel-to-wheel riding around me. And then the rolling climbing started, up and up through forested jeep roads and popping out into a beautiful alpine valley that defines Colorado’s beauty.  After a big descent down Boreas Pass Road, we hit the Banker’s Tank Trail. At one point, we passed the 8 foot deep hole that I fell into a few years ago in the Firecracker 50. (it was super cool- people watching, bloody leg, crawling out of the hole…  I felt like a first grader who peed his pants on recess). After bombing down French road, I thought I was pretty much done, but there were three brutal switchbacks before a loose descent to the finish.

So those of you who might have been encouraged to come try the Breck Epic next year after my first few blogs might be think this sounds discouraging. Au contraire is my reply. Who wants to plan a week around an easy stage race? A lot of people I guess, but then again most people think mountain bike stage racing as a vacation ranks above solitary confinement only because of the beer.  No, today’s fast and furious stage was a shit ton of fun, and a warm up for tomorrow’s circumnavigation of Mt Guyot, a fiftyish mile, ten-thousand-feet-of-climbing beatdown that will bring the field to its knees.

That’s all for now. Big pasta meal and birthday cake for my friend Brian. What a week so far. I’m so glad I’m here. Thanks for reading.

I've know Steve Yore for quite some time now, our friendship goes beyond 24 hr races. When he came to LA to be photographed by Jill Greenberg for the cover because he was crowned the Outside's Fittest Real Man In America, I stopped by the shoot.

Now, his time in the limelight is over and this new guy (picture above one the July Issue) gets to wear the jewels. I couldn't pass up the opportunity of asking Steve Yore what it feels like to pass his title on to David Goggins.

Are you crestfallen that your title is being passed along?
I'm thrilled. The new crew is a bunch of badasses. They deserve the recognition!