Similar to a Bear Fight but without the bloodshed and bruising. Myself, Chad Storck, and Jim Morrison hiked Cold Mtn (elev. 6030 ft) this past Saturday since snow was forecast for the higher peaks. We debated riding but decided a snow hike was in order. Anyway, hiking is harder than biking. Enjoy.
Tough as nails (liquid nails).
Jimberly debating the uber technical creek crossing.
A Winter Wonderland.
Fudge time!
Thru Hiker extroidanaire Chad Storck (top of page also) in front at Deep Gap below the summit. Basically Jim and I brought enough to bivouac for a month. Chad wore his fancy fanny pack and hiked in "tenny pumps".
Snowy rocks of doom...just ask Jim.
Summit approach.
Chad Storck ponders how much more enjoyable this would have been if Jim and I were actually good hikers.
Jim ponders how he can be so good at mtn biking and so unable to stay upright hiking.
Dramatic black and white photo.
Dangerous rock outcrop at the top.
Me watching Chad Storck on the dangerous rock outcrop.
Chad Storck, minimalist, regretting his decision to not bring anything warm. Later he was seen cupping his nutsack sitting behind a rock in an effort to warm his hands. Not pictured is the delicious Highland Cold Mountain seasonal and pizza we packed up to partake in at the top.
Haven't been on the bike in a while and with Ian's Memorial ride fast approaching, I knew I needed to see where the legs and lungs were at. Verdict: I am out of shape, but the knees feel great. A moral victory of sorts. Christmas Eve was chilly so I donned the Old School Hoff kit complete with wind vest (the only one in existence) and rode out to the fort to dick around. Stir up some trouble. Mix it up. I saw the dude from Healthnet out there with some other retired pro. Well, I didn't see them. They came flying past me up a hill. They were fast but my bike looked nicer. After about an hour, my vest started cooking me like a rotisserie chicken. Is that why we wear vests when we ride? Core temperature and all that. One thing is for certain, the extra tall vest collar looks even more obnoxious in all its salmon glory. After getting owned by the roadies, I kept the pace redlined, probably around 15 mph. I had no idea as it has been about a year and a half since I've ridden with a computer. I got a flat tire on Wildcat which pissed me off as I had just put in a new tube. The offending culprit was a metal shard that cut through my Maxxis tire like a Vorheesian machete through a libidinous teenager's tent. After the repair, I rolled back through town. I saw a couple kids on track bikes rolling up Greene Street and gave them a wave and hello. Must've been too busy talking about that new Japandroids album to acknowledge my entreaties. Fair enough. Upon my arrival home, Mimi and I lolled about in the sun watching the idiot squirrels fight over spilled sunflowers from the bird feeder...
Old School Flava...
Mimi!
