Inspiration, discussion starters, wanderings, and amusements:
Joe makes some mighty fine looking bikepacking bags, and maybe one day I’ll be able to snag a pair for myself. Check out his packs on some custom Corvid bikes:
Scott Johnston and Steve House on one of their early, clunky COVID video discussion (warts and all). Motivation is sometimes elusive to find, and far too easy to lose. I’ve always sided with thinking of outdoor activities as, “play”, but big goals sometimes demand a little more discipline.
“When we are no longer able to change the situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”Victor Frankl, Man’s Search For Meaning
The people at Keep Colorado Beautiful do the dirty work at removing unsightly tags from natural objects. I’m not against graffiti, but I tend to suggest practicing it on man-made objects. For example, a grungy pedestrian underpass can be transformed into an art installation by the proper use of form, content, design, and paint. In the natural (or more so, natural) world, it’s difficult to improve upon, so why try.
As well as having an amazing ride in his life, this is just good story-telling. I’d hike along with Wesley Trimble any day – as long as I can keep up!
Tommy Caldwell needs no introduction, but I find this breakdown of his style one of those almost sea-change grasps on the subject, “how to rock climb”. I’ve been so focused on finger strength, I forgot an entire body is attached to those digits. Being a fairly weak strength-wise in my upper body, I need to rely on good technique and footwork to get up anything I want to get up. Just the simple idea of, “feet first climbing” was really the missing piece I needed to comprehend. It took a few weeks to rewire my brain to think this way, but I now at least feel like my climbing is smoother and gentler.
Finally, some weirdo music. I was introduced to Quintron and Miss Pusscat when they opened for the Cramps. Miss Pussycat ran a psychedelic puppet show; Quintron made a drum machine out of an old Folgers coffee can that was punched with holes. I miss watching weirdo music acts, dancing – sweating!
Crash Worship is a mythical group – I’d try to describe what a live show was like, but you’d call me a liar. This is my favorite songs of theirs. Not a studio band in the slightest, but this song plays on repeat when I’m rallying up a mountain, stammering up a step at a time. Noise, sirens, foreboding drums, CHAOS!