From the May 24, 2012 Recorder Herald:
Person wanted to know what time he had surgery and was given the hospital’s number.
Caller said there were two kids in full camo on the side of the hill on Riverfront Drive and it looked like they had some guns and they were pointing them at traffic. Officer on the scene reported the kids have sticks.
Salmon’s 12 Hours of Disco endurance mountain bike race attracted some serious endurance athletes. Don’t get me wrong, these were extremely nice people, but then again when you routinely run the risk of having a heart attack of losing other bodily functions in front of a crowd, it sort of makes sense to be nice, right?
My team — the Lost Riders — met our goal of not requiring the services of Salmon Search and Rescue at any point during or post-event. We each completed two laps on the 8-mile track and were damned happy to do it. Other riders showed up with a little more ambitious agenda, however. If you look at this board…
Disco Hill Scoreboard
you might notice that the men and WOMEN solo riders completed 13 laps or approximately 104 miles from 7 a.m. til 7 p.m.
As admirable as this feat may be, the Enduroletes pay heavy costs.
For one, while the rest of us were enjoying freshly grilled cheeseburgers with extra relish, the more passionate pedalers substituted a substance known mostly as “goo” for solid food. They must call it goo because “asthmatic dog slobber” is already spoken for.
If your dinner looks like this:
Goo
you may need to question your life’s overall direction.
Some of the teams that came to Podunk to ride, like the illustrious MudHoneys, sported uniforms highly tattooed with sponsorships. But I saw no one with a major sponsorship from Gold Bond Medicated Powder or the like. You cannot tell me that, male or female, when you ride 104 miles on your mountain bike you have not permanently wrecked your nether regions. I won’t believe you.
One team showed us the upside to being serious riders when they set up their Ninkasi Brewing tent. In addition to the tent and team jerseys, the trio trucked in a keg each of Total Domination Double IPA and Radiant Ale. I asked how the Lost Riders might find a beverage sponsor (and not a salve or medicated powder sponsor). I was confused by the team captain’s answer and the close proximity of the icy cold brew, so I realized too late that he had said “You just need to pitch it,” and not “You just need a pitcher.” Oh well, I’ve made far worse mistakes…
Thanks to all of you who encouraged the Lost Riders in their endurance mountain bike racing team debut. The race — 12 Hours of Disco — brought in dozens of riders from around the area, many of them more prepared than we were. When I say prepared, I mean physically prepared. We were by far the most prepared team on a number of different levels.
My teammates Lucy, Zephyr and Whitney (formerly known as K-Dog) and I met on at least one occasion for a pre-race meeting where we established 1) our riding order, 2) our press-on tattoo design, 3) our team jersey color, 4) our soundtrack, 5) our menu, and 6) cocktails. Our team tent was so elaborate, the announcer designated it a “public shade area.”
The Lost Riders @ 6:30 a.m. Saturday
Based on skill and which name got drawn out of a hat, Whitney kicked off the Lost Riders as our #1 rider. The race organizers explained they were doing a LeMans-style start which we had, of course, failed to practice. Best I can tell, a LeMans start is where everyone tosses their bike in a pile …
LeMans Bike Heap
then at the startling gun blast, riders run and jump on their bikes and ride in a circle away from the actual bike course.
The steely nerved Whitney played it cool.
Whitney (in red) waiting for the other riders to get the hellouttaherway.
Podunks don’t care much for congestion, so Whitney gave us what we needed most — a little elbow room.
The race is on!
As Whitney headed off into the wild blue yonder, Lucy, Zephyr and I re-arranged our lawn chairs and continued discussing strategy — hummus with rice cracker or Kashi multigrain?
To find out which snack cracker wins, you’ll have to read my next post, Lost Riders Select an Official Team Cracker.
Cypress Hill Climb-
Report from newest team member Kristina Bagma
How much pain can you handle?
That was the question I was asking myself on the morning of the Glotman Simpson Cypress Hill Climb. It was actually the question I was asking myself all week. “Was I physically and mentally prepared to not only push myself into the pain zone, but could I force myself to stay there for 40, 45, 50 minutes??”
From the May 10, 2012 Salmon Recorder Herald….
Woman reported a large unknown type of animal (dispatch thought it sounded lick (sp) a rock chuck) confronted her as she was attempting to enter her vehicle. Woman ran back to her house and the animal chased her and then ran under her house. She said the creature chirped at her.
[Editor's note: When I went to college in the oh-so-sophisticated city of Spokane, Washington, I found out that the species I knew to be rock chuck and whistle pig had other more formal names (please see my earlier scientific journal log about whistle pigs). A rock chuck is also known as a yellow-bellied marmot ...
Photo by Wanda Bates
and I’ve never known one to attack a human. Or maybe most humans are too prideful to admit that they’ve been chased into their house by a rock chuck.]
The thing that motivates the Lost Riders to train the most is the fear of needing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation by our neighbors. Podunk is a small town so there’s a 97% chance the EMT would be someone we know or a cousin, and that’s just awkward.
So when Her Royal Highness’ hockey career took the fam to Salt Lake last week, I stooped to a new low — the hotel gym. I got on my Spirit Fitness, or Fitness Spirit, stationary bike and I tried to simulate Discovery Hill in preparation for the May 19 race 12 Hours of Disco. I’m used to riding in Paradise …
and instead I got to substitute this…
If I looked out the Holiday Inn window, I could see the Wasatch Front on the other side of I -15 and approximately 2 million people while I pretended to pedal up a hill.
This is no way to live. But if it keeps me from getting an EMT smooch, I guess it’s worth it.
The training continues for the Lost Riders of Discovery Hill. There’s only 2 weeks before Salmon’s 12 Hours of Disco endurance mountain bike race so my team is hot on the training trail. This is not us:
On Friday, 3 of the 4 of us even went to go see some mountain bike movies with our friends from SIMBA — the Salmon Idaho Mtn Bike Association.
We watched a cool flick called Pedal Driven. We watched people doing things like this:
After watching the film, we decided our 7:30 a.m. Saturday ride sounded mighty early, and we called it off. Sadly, we forgot to tell our 4th team member, Zephyr. So when Zephyr called from Disco Hill a little before 8 a.m., I hustled to the hill sans coffee or a water bottle. The good news is we pulled off a slightly abbreviated but super fun ride, even if I did do it in my pajama pants.
And I realized that Pedal Driven had done the trick. Inspired by that film’s reckless and acrobatic riders, I let go of the brakes a time or two. I might have even gotten a little air. A really small amount of air.
K-Dog and Lucy, our teammates, went all academic on us and took a ladies bike clinic Saturday a.m. and then went riding with the instructors, teacher’s pets that they are.
Two more weeks of training — know of any more good bike movies?
I traveled to Dillon, Montana, last week with the director of our local land trust. Podunk’s Green Queens had been invited to present a talk we called How Conservation Can Revitalize Rural Economies at the University of Montana Western.
To go on a road trip this time of year, we’d give a talk at a preschool about how to make stuffed animals from bellybutton lint.
But the topic was fun and the audience was lively. Despite the university and awesome Patagonia outlet store, Dillon speaks Podunk. The complicated work of getting all kinds of people together to solve tough issues like finding enough water for fish and irrigators, or working on a logging project in a roadless area seemed to strike a chord with our new friends who face many of the same conflicts our valley does.
But as the night carried on, the questioning got more intense. Eventually, we revealed ourselves for the complete phonies we are.
As the wildlife biologist sipped her cocktail at the Dillon Bar, she looked at us both.
Dillon Bar
“Do you use dryer sheets?” she asked. First checking to make sure nobody’s sock had static clung itself to our wardrobe, we both stated that indeed we regularly used the fresh smelling fabric softener.
Wrong answer. We soon found out that the thoughtless use of dryer sheets was the real environmental problem facing ours and the next generation (if they made it that long).
Her war on Bounce sheets reminded me of my senior year in college when I discovered the book, 50 Simple Things You Can do to Save the Earth.
Soon, people were calling me Greena. I recycled, turned off the lights, and let my lawn die. I felt great! But as I got older and started working on environmental issues in my professional life, I realized not very much was simple about saving the earth.
I’d love to go back to the days when paper or plastic represented a moral dilemma.
In the meantime, please tell me if I have a pair of socks hermetically sealed to my sweater.
When my best friend suggested we enter a sanctioned mountain bike race, I was a tad on the reluctant side. There were a lot of flaws in her scheme starting with we are not mountain bike racers.
The race — 12 Hours of Disco — indicated to me that we would have to ride our bikes for 12 hours which I considered to be a problem.
The Disco is for Discovery Hill, our local singletrack mecca — not the Donna Summer groove move, but even this kind of Disco is a problem. That is, if you are directionally challenged, like my friend and I are.
The trails at Discovery Hill look like this:
We get lost everytime.
I reminded her (we’ll call her Lucy for identity protection purposes) that we most likely couldn’t ride our bikes for 12 hours. Lucy and Max the Bike Guy, the race organizer, did some quick math and reported that if we signed up as a team, we would each only have to ride for 6 hours.
Last year we rode the Lemhi Valley Century Ride from the top of Gilmore Summit to Salmon.
Lemhi Valley Century Ride – Google Maps.
The route is about 60 miles on Highway 28 and is theoretically all downhill. I reminded Lucy that took us about 5 hours and she fell off her bike. She touched the scar on her elbow and agreed that did happen. And, I reminisced, we stopped for a wine tasting and then had champagne before we made it to town.
Max the Bike Guy insisted this was just the kind of training we would need for 12 Hours of Disco.
So now I’m on a team of 4, which by my math should have whittled my actual assigned cycling time to 3 hours, and we had our first training ride last Saturday — a swell idea given the race is May 19.
Two of my teammates — Lucy and Zephyr — showed up looking pretty perky. But K-Dog seemed a little green around the gills.
I was hoping no one would show up and I could sleep in the back of my car for a few hours, she admitted.
Apparently she had gotten home at 2 a.m. after taking part in the unfortunate invention of something called the Dooky Bomb. As described to us, the Dooky Bomb involves the dropping of a Baby Ruth candy bar into a shot of Dr. McGillicuddy’s cinnamon schnapps. We collectively groaned.
K-Dog good naturedly made a small training loop.
Lucy, Zephyr and I proceeded to get lost. We will most likely be assisted off the race course by Search and Rescue.
Next up: Team Shirts
From the April 19, 2012 Salmon Recorder Herald
- Woman reported a large dark colored dog with a white face that was outside her fence causing her dogs to bark.
- Woman said that she was following a large moving van all over the road and she thought it could be the wind but she was not sure. She said she would continue to follow him and if it got worse she would call 911 again. The truck was headed towards the Mud Lake area on Highway 28.
- Woman said she was driving down Main Street when a silver Toyota Tacoma was driving without headlights on. She flashed them to turn them on and now they were swerving at her and flipping her off.
- Man said that his vehicle was on fire and he needed the fire department. He said he was too scared to open the hood.
