Idaho, Oregon, and Olde English

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Here ya go, I got videos, photos, and stories from the past five days for all ya.  Starting back on Tuesday when nine fine folks got together to go for a MTB ride outside of Stanley, ID.  Greg put installing a new kitchen faucet on hold, and Club Ride Mike took a break for selling some of the coolest fucking riding clothes I have worn in a long time, to plan a long day in the saddle for all.  The plan was to ride the Boundary Creek climb, then descend down Big Casino to the Salmon River.  Anyway, the climb was a fucking beast, were talking 3000 feet of elevation gain in about 5 miles.  Next time I’ll skip the climb, let a mule kick me in the chest, and get the exact same feeling.  As with all difficult challenges, the main reward of the climb was the view of the Sawtooth Wilderness from about 9600 feet.


After stopping to eat, we began the descent, which I was told would be about 45 minutes long.  For the first time in 5 years I was on a dual suspension bike, and there were plenty of times when I was happy to have the feeling of squish squish boing boing to help me over around and through the rocks, roots, stream crossing, and other obstacles.  Dejay was kind enough to use his helemt cam to record footage, even though he was battling with a broken pedal for nearly all of the descent.  After finishing up, we all had smiles on our faces that stretched as wide as they could go, we hopped in the Salmon River, drank cold beer, and feasted on ribs before heading back to town.


The crew at the top of the climb eating lunch. Video of the descent:

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From Ketchum we made the trip to Bend, where friends of DC Greg and Yod have been kind enough to put us up while we are in town for the High Cascades 100.  They got a hot tub in the backyard, so really there is nothing to complain about.  On Friday, Self, Dejay, and recent crew addition Derek headed out to ride on of the loops on the race course.  We got to spend a lot of time breathing fine moon dust, riding in and around the forests, over old lava flows, and getting eaten by misquotes.  Five and a half hours later we had ridden some 43 miles.  We were sore, tired, hungry, but happy, so all was well in the world.


Dejay riding near Lava Lake.


Three miles left for the three ugly dudes.  Here’s some vid of the ride:
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Yesterday we rode another (but much shorter) loop that will be part of the course.  Once again, the riding in Bend although dusty was stellar, and all parties involved enjoyed themselves.  We even took some time to get our “freeride” on and ride some of the stunts.

Self trying to look badass on the logride.

After the ride we headed to get some of Bend’s best burgers, when a motorist decided to help our day reach “epic” status.  An angry love tap from behind, prompted all four of the van passengers to shout “what the fuck” thinking Dejay had driven over a curb.  While that was not the case, and the van had been rear-ended, the timing could not have been better.  We were at the 7-11 which we were going to stop and buy beer anyway.  Yod went to get the hooch, while vans, trucks, and bikes were inspected.  In the end all items which were damaged can and will be replaced, no one in either of the vehicles were hurt, and most of the issues were resolved with a series of hugs.  Just a minor hiccup in this so called “Bummer Life”, which today looks like it will include floating down the Deschuttes River.


Busted windows, busted bikes, busted rack, and a can of Olde English to melt the problems away.

Finally, in a similar manner to Judi, I will be turning over another number on the oddometer of life tomorrow.  While 26 doesn’t have the significance of 40, I’ve made it another year without too many life issues, and plenty of great times.  I was also lucky enough to receive this early present of 12 year old scotch, so life is good, really good.


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About 40 Hands

A fan of riding bikes with one gear, malt liquor, riding without knowing how many miles I’ve covered, and strip clubs that let you bring your own keg. I typically have a stupid grin on my face, it is because deep down I know that no matter what, my mom thinks I’m cool. Denver, Colorado, USA

7 Replies to “Idaho, Oregon, and Olde English”

  1. I don’t remember any distilleries in Highland Park. Oh, they mean Scotland, not Illinois. Wish I were there to celebrate and enjoy the nectar.

  2. Wasn’t sure if I was going to start my workweek off with report writing or field work. After seeing this post it looks like I’ll be starting it off with a lecture from my boss for showing up 2 hours late. Thanks for the motivation to hit that trail on the way in to work.