The Sacred Sticker Pile

Admit it, somewhere in your house you have one. A stack of stickers that you have been carefully curating over the years. Every race/ festival/ local shop/ and brewery that has had the pleasure of your attendance is represented.

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In the outdoor activity realm stickers are like little vinyl flags that are flown to alert others to our own personal tribe. We put them on our car windows, bikes, home climbing walls, rooftop boxes, and beer fridges. They signal a safe space where other like-minded people gather to do the things that make them feel alive. I always get nervous when I see a vehicle without stickers. Whenever I pull up to a trailhead and I see a clean rig with no stickers I automatically think there is a serial killer waiting for me in the woods.

In short, stickers show the world that you are more than a job title and a bank account. They help others to answer the question, “what do you do?” Because of this we are very picky with which stickers we display. This is where the pile comes in. “I mean, I really like __________, but what if___________.” You hem and you haw about what others will think about your apparent undying love for Company X or Local Race 2017. But at some point you have to make a decision. It’s certainly hard. Some stickers are only made for certain events or product lines and YOU MAY NEVER COME ACROSS ONE THAT SPEAKS TO YOU AND WHO YOU ARE THAT PERFECTLY AGAIN! I totally get that feeling. I used to have a clean car and a massive pile of stickers.

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I suffered from SAD (Sticker Anxiety Disorder). You know how I got past that? I came to the logical realization there will always be more stickers. My current collection is proof of this concept. Whenever one fades or is lost at highway speed another will come along that may even better represent who you are. You probably already have a perfect replacement lined up on the bench. There it is, behind that regionally specific sticker that only people in the know will get.

-J

Mission Accomplished

Last week was quite stressful; work went late into the night tuesday-thursday and the puppy kept us up most of the night after that. I needed some kind of release. So, I put a little challenge to myself up on the blog. I committed myself to a “Big day.”

Essentially it was a nice leisurely-paced gravel/road ride up to Big Bay and back. But for me it represented a little more. It was proof that I could set a goal and achieve it. Sometimes we spend too much time working toward intangible things that seem to never come to fruition. Sometimes the upward tick of our bank accounts becomes a meaningless safety-net of numbers that we all know could be wiped out in a matter of seconds. Sometimes we rely on other people to do too many things for us. Personally, when I hit that wall, as we all do from time to time, I need to do something on my own accord. The last time that happened I hand split 10 cords of firewood. Talk about seeing the fruits of my labor. It was such a rewarding feeling seeing the rows grow and the pile of whole logs dwindle. I needed to do something like this again to reignite that feeling: accomplishment.

So I created a challenge for myself, and as you know I made it public. I have never done something like that before and I am pleasantly surprised to say that it worked.

When Saturday arrived the bike was loaded and the route carefully planned to avoid interaction with vehicles and people in general. I took off into a minor headwind which made the first 12-15 miles pretty miserable. But something clicked when I crossed the big bridge on CR 510.

I saw fewer cars and could feel that the remote gravel section was getting close.

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This is where the trip really began. I have driven this road a number of times. It is quiet and it is wild. Rarely do you see a vehicle or structure. It is the perfect place to spin gears and unwind.

And spin I did. For the most part I had the gravel to myself. However, once in a while a hunter on his way to deer camp would blast past me on a side-by-side. In those moments I felt as if I were in some post-apacolyptic Mad Max scenario. I would laugh to myself and draw up images of some marauder chasing me down on my pedal bike and I would thwart him at the last moment with a well-placed juke.

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I was warned by a friend to eat hourly even if I wasn’t hungry. Turns out that wasn’t all that hard. I lunched on the banks of the Yellow Dog. Jerky and fig bars have never tasted so good.

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As the tannic waters flowed past I was able to completely give myself over to the rhythmic churning and the trance-inducing ripples. In that moment I was safe to release my mind and all of the worries and cares in it. It was beautiful. If you find yourself starting to get wound up head to a quiet stretch of river and watch it do its thing for a while. “I’m not saying that a river is a cure-all, only that your brain is unable to maintain its troubled patterns while in concourse with a river.” -Jim Harrison, The Beast God Forgot to Invent. (On a side note that man will forever be missed and I look forward to incorporating many of his gems in and around this blog.)

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The rest of the ride was rather uneventful. I got in some good charges and even managed to launch into a few of those “yawps” that those Transcendentalists were always talking about. Rolling into town felt good. I had accomplished something and I had no one to thank but my own two legs.

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My older generation Stache probably wasn’t the most efficient choice of bikes for this ride but the extra forgiveness in those larger tires and the suspension fork made it a little more comfortable and forgiving.

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I dubbed this trip “The long way to Blackrocks” because in all honesty there is no longer route from my home to that wonderful brewery. Upon arriving I grabbed a 51k and sat on the porch looking at my bike. I thought about the places I have taken it, and the places it has taken me. Good gear is worth its weight in gold. But there is something special about the bond that you form with a bike. After the brew I spun over to Border Grill and had some tacos and chips.

This is the first of many rides that will start on CR 510. While planning my ride I was very excited to see all of the roads that branch off 510 and head into the McCormick Tract.

The pic below is the Strava info from the ride. I really enjoy quantifiable results and since I have started using Strava I have found the joy and worth that I have always felt while biking to be measurable.

-j

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