Birthday's have always been about the weekend. An awesome, radical adventure with the best of friends; great food; and getting outside. True birthday weekenders are a dying breed as with each aging year the weekending becomes less and less of a priority with life's other "priorities" taking the front seat. The one night, 2-hour dinner meet up with friends doesn't quite satisfy the quench. There's a feeling with each coming year to prove you've still got it, you've still got what it takes to push yourself that extra mile, to do something to top off year's past. Birthday weekends are the time to celebrate and start your next year of life with a bang of bad-A-ness.
We got lucky with this one and TK was all gung ho to get out of the city with us. We got off to a little later start than expected, surprise, but it ended up being perfect night riding desert conditions--yes, it is still February. We rode through the night following the spiraling road leading up to Jacob's Chair until we found the perfect soft sandy spot to lay our bivy's. We woke to views of canyons as fas as the eye can see and in a bed of petrified wood chips. The ride ended with the final ascent to the base of Jacob's Chair and masterminding plans for future climbing lines. Of course the descent was the sweet reward and end to a quick desert bikepacking escape. Cheers to another year TK!
We got lucky with this one and TK was all gung ho to get out of the city with us. We got off to a little later start than expected, surprise, but it ended up being perfect night riding desert conditions--yes, it is still February. We rode through the night following the spiraling road leading up to Jacob's Chair until we found the perfect soft sandy spot to lay our bivy's. We woke to views of canyons as fas as the eye can see and in a bed of petrified wood chips. The ride ended with the final ascent to the base of Jacob's Chair and masterminding plans for future climbing lines. Of course the descent was the sweet reward and end to a quick desert bikepacking escape. Cheers to another year TK!
full set | Jacob's Chair
It's D's b-day weekend, yes birthday's last a weekend around here. We were stoked to get out of dodge, and lucky for us it's also a 3-day weekend--thank you MLK! We started off at TK's cabin up Hobble Creek. It's the perfect quick escape only 20 minutes and you're out of town, out of smog, away from the masses, without reception, and in the winter surrounded by endless possibilities for touring.
We spent the night skinning in by starlight, catching up with friends around the wood burning stove, and snacking to our hearts content. That morning we scouted some lines, I had a few snowballs thrown my way, and enjoyed basking in our T's in the 40 degree sun rays.
Arisaig, or the Safe Place, is a village set on the shore of Loch nan Ceall on the west coast of the Scottish Highlands. Chilly clear blue waters and outlooking the Hebrides this was a welcomed landscape variation from the jagged and mountainous Cullins region on the Isle of Skye.
We arrived to a ghost town with only a grocery store (the only one) open. We quickly gathered together dinner supplies and set off on foot to explore the village. The single road wraps around to the church on a hill overlooking the loch. With the single lane street vacant of traffic, and the town void of other tourists the entire walk you could hear the quiet lapping of waves against the sandy coast.
Before we left on our trip Dustin's Grandpa Pace had asked us to keep an eye out for any McDonald's on headstones. We received fair warning that there were in fact two clans of McDonalds, one spelled Mac- and one spelled Mc-, the latter was ours and not to be confused with the first. Up until this point all the tomb stones we had found were of the Mac- clan. As eery as tomb searching sounds, we actually found the grave yards to be beautiful and solemn places...well until J picked up a book of Highland Ghost/Folk Stories. As luck would have it we happened across tomb stones of the Mc- clan ancestors of Grandma Pace's family. After our short bout around the village we set off to find a spot to set up camp. The beauty of Scotland is camping on public lands is free of charge and can be done anywhere, within reason. We found a pull off already holding a Sprinter filled with a group of four 50+ year old women gathered around a campfire in wetsuits and enjoying dinner after a sea kayaking adventure. They welcomed us to share their beach camp and we set to work making setting up camp.
The spot was my favorite of the entire trip, like it had been pulled straight out of an adventurist's novel. A white sandy beach, surrounds by black rocky shore, with clear blue ocean waters reaching to the shore and stretching out past the loch and into the vast seas. We made camp, enjoyed warm drinks, a hot meal, soaked in the scenery, and as a symbol of one of our final nights in Scotland we set off paper lanterns we had found in the grocery store.
I then remember crawling into the tent and snuggling into my sleeping bag as J read a folk/ghost story about a priest, listening to the beach bug popping against the tent wall trying to make their way in, and dozing off the the sounds of the ocean and nothing--I truly felt like I was in a "safe place."
Then came the lights, bright flashing red, blue, and white lights. Then the megaphone voices--still drowsed with sleep I can't quite remember what was said. I perked up pretty quick catching the word "coast guard." My first thought was my supposed "flagged passport" had caught up to me, so with the feeling of urgency I stuck my head out the tent door only to be blasted by a spotlight. Come to find out a patrolling guard out a sea had seen 4 lights float from the coast into the sky and go off evenly spaced apart. They had radioed to the village's land unit to search the coast for any distressed ships. It took a minute then it clicked our paper lanterns, 4 lights we had set off had been the supposed distress call. With the misconception cleared, my name and number were taken down for record--another point to my growing Scotland "record"--the night fiascos ended and I was drifting back off in my safe place.
There's something magical about snow covered grounds, I've loved them since I was little. Granted a big part of growing up in VA is with a mere 1 in of snow either equals a 2 hour delay or no school for the day :) I remember during the winters going to bed every night wishing the next morning I'd wake up to fresh fallen snow. My friends and I would plan after school, <<don't forget before you go to bed 1)turn your PJ's inside out 2)do the snow dance>>. Moving out west normal amounts of snowfall were what my child self would've considered a blizzard!
As we've started spending more and more time in Southeast UT, it has grown to be one of my favorite places to spend winters as well. The blend of red and green with an added white element resulting in new methods for exploring the country.
Finding the perfect tree is no easy feat! Randall's mean business in their search...everyone spreads out and calls out when they think they've found THE tree. It typically goes like this, first the call <<I've found one, I've found one!!!>> Then, everyone rushes over...<<no, there's a bald spot--how about this one?!>>... <<uh that one's too fat--how about this one?>>....<<maybe if we cut off the top half?!>> Then finally after all the funning around Dustin's dad didn't even ask he just cut one down and declared our tree for the year. It turned out to be perfect, as it always is, and a great reminder here's the poem D wrote for the season
<<Year around it holds its ground,Merry Merry Christmas!
The color of an evergreen tree.
A simple sign to keep in mind,
That Christ was born to set us free.>>
There's no better way to roam than by clinking chain and knobby treads cruising through rock and dirt. There's always more to explore in this country, further distances to be travelled, and it's never short of an epic view. Like my childhood reads of Cam Jansen I just want to say "click" and hope my photographic memory keeps the view in my mind forever, ha I wish...thank goodness for cameras right?!
full set | recapture
Just realized this beaut was never posted on the blog! Kudos to Swedish Fish Studios aka Linus for pulling this together last minute before our true launch. All the video reel is thanks to Travis, Josh and our friends at The Good Line. Check out the final video on our Indiegogo page.
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