good times, eh.

sweet, sweet, sweeeet edit
by Chaga, nice work mang.

can't wait to get back to the Valley!

White Grass local powder hounds and rippers from WVski on Vimeo.


another dimension

man, and there it is.

there's that spark that
lights it up. change of
plans, commute on Friday
instead of early am. Thaw
out the IceBox, literally, oh
how I love my 0 deg down,

Sluggishly roll into the WG lot
8am-ish, first car there and
here I thought I was running
late...gear up the big 4buckle
plastic, figuring on a solo day
of skinnin' & chasin' turns..

when who should appear?
Mumbles, Maynario & Jason.
That's trouble..a lightly twisted
arm and i was switching out to
the leathers and playing lets make
a deal with Chipper for some
new 3pin love.

man oh man oh man!!!!

so, we go out on tour, run
into good buds up on the
Knob, it's a WV Night Club
celebration!, best of luck
LB!, and then off we go into
the enchanted forest.

mmmmm, freshies.

Man, I'm diggin' the new kit.
Finally got a ski that's an
incredible match for the
leathers. Light, nimble and
incredibly stable when you
let 'em run....fun, fun, fun
out in the open, tree skillz
are still a step behind though.

damn, enough words, we got out
there, and it sucks to be back.

Great tour with the Rocktowners
and a silly fun hot lap of Fern Gully
with Chaga & Adam to finish the

Sunday was another good ski,
but on tired legs with many a
humbling episode. Great tour
of some of the frontside with
housemate Abe. Amazing how
tracked out it is, word is out
I guess..

Found a pretty groovy rythmn
for a bit on the main slope
finish, Anita's alternate for
a bit of softness...but, ugh,
the viddy don't lie:

i've got a lot of work to do....
I'm seeing a good bit of ridin'
the cow
in my future, back
to square 2..


the early season.

so, we work our way over to CVSP slopes
for a qwik gravity poach. Find very turnable
snow, but it's just enough, watch your hands
if you go down. Use finesse to make the arcs
or you're churning up leaves and grass. But
its smooth and consistent...

Get into a good groove, link up
a bit of floaty feeling schuss, let
them dogs run, square up to pre
jump a water bar, skis go pop,
landing is smooth, lay into a big
carve to shut it down and hear Mike
hollering SKI!..Ski! Ski!!!!.....

huh, whut?
Fuck yeah I'm skiing!!


huh, whut? yeah, I look down.
yeah I still have both skis on my
feet, didn't think I'd lost one, but I'm
kinda warped right now, so maybe I
did kick a shoe..


look down again, yeah, I'm good....
oohh, whut?

Finally look back over my shoulder
see a solo ski sliding down the slope
and into the trees...



Ohhhhh, Mumbles just learned
about flipping that G3 heel piece
up out of tour mode when it's time
to go down ze mounTain....kicking
a shoe sucks, but is often good for
a laugh...good times.

christmas lights

thank god, for all
of those windmills.

jesus, what a display.


hello Jack!

mmmm, Jack Frost,
celeberatin Ullr's
seasonal visitation.

Amazing good vibes
as usual, reconnecting
with long lost friends
that haven't been seen
in years, months or
a day it seems....It
all melds together.

short story: cook chili.
commute, late lunch
arrivee' at the IceBox,
settle in, catch up with
mates. They pedal, I go
for a ski. Ski up to Bald
and explore 'tl dark:30.

Sample a hoppy beverage,
PoTLUCK! Full belly, friends,
laughs, smiles, catching up,
the Shot ski, then just roll
with the vibe. Barry's Wurld,
Other Wurld, Bonfire, Shot Ski!!
Gary's Wurld, the new Yurt
and Sauna House too, and
dance party in the lodge, if
all the live mtn jammin bands
ain't enough and more new
friends and familiar catching
up good vibe of everybody
hearing the call of Ullr's breath
across 'that damneded 50deg
lake Erie.'

or something, wow.
it was snowing when I left...

then purge the system
with a welcome back to
cold Sunday tour. Felt good
to be cold, a good reminder
to not fuck around out there,
Been a while since I've dealt
with freezing gloves. Qwik
reality check to not fuck
around with old man winter.

Skied the leathers. Snow was
thin over warm recently rain
soaked ground. So out and
about kickin' & gliding for
scenery & quiet and systems
checking, easing back into
it, ya know? good times.


ever wonder

which is faster?

(h/t Lil' e)


Sunday ride.

hey, I'm not attacking,
just trying to hold on.

just trying to hold my
spot in line...

hey, I'm not attacking,
just didn't wanna hold
you guys up thru there.

hey, I'm not attacking....

but the fact is, sometimes I
thoroughly enjoy pedaling
like a crazed Jedi ninja thru
the woods with nose to chin
snot droolping onto stem.

it's a pace which is really
only found within a group.

somebody is always willing
to go fast, just for the sake
of going fast....we all have a
bit of RickyBobby in us, admit it.

A chance to explore that twisted
numb mental state of full body
tingliness...where the only thoughts
involve pedaling and breathing.

and going f.a.s.t.

instinct handles the rest.
rocks, roots, it's all about
hitting the 'bright spots'....

keep it honest, and if you
or when I blow up, pull
over, let that train roll
by, then run the sweep.

tag, I'm it.

regroup on up ahead there.
refuel, enjoy a beer perhaps,
enjoy mother nature, clouds,
sun, ridgetops and conversations
that inevitably explore the
crudeness of cruditude.

A jar of what?


And then back into it, fucking
pedaling with abandon back
into that floating smiley face
balloon mode trying to hold
on until you simply can't stand
it. done, fini, cracked, cooked.

good times, felt good
to get out & breath.

is winter coming already?


true cost.

if you had to tear it all down,
tear it all back down
to raw form....

I imagine that process
is about as nasty for
Mother Earth, as it was
to extract & create it all.

what a mess.



Dunno whut got into me, a Friday
work interlude inspiration and a

"yeah, why the fuck not?"

attitude had my
mind set in motion.

Ullr is coming, he expects a day
long commitment to truely schralp
those forested white fluffy gifts.

chasing ze trutta has softened me.
that knee thing softened me.

it's all for the better, I needed a
step back from it all, a reboot.

and so, considering that this was
the fish of the day on my last
outing, I'm guessing the trout
have pretty much shut down
their surface feeding for the
year...except on the LeTort,
and I'm not much up for that
chess match..

SO, Friday, eating lunch, I thought
that maybe 'Roxbury to HorseValley
and then home via the 'best' way
considered at the time' loop would
be something fun to do.

Turns out, I was right.

If you consider yourself in any way
a seasoned cyclist, it pays to listen
to your internal 8-Ball instinct.
Don't even ask, you know that
"All signs point to yes"

GO, now. !


It always pays to push for a few hours
into a charming headwind and then climb
up one of few storied climbs in the area.
Opens up that direct channel to pedaling
on instinct, counting on that Country
Store that's up at that four way on up
the road from here.

Bounce the helmeted head off the
low hanging Diesel sign and have
a chuckle with the local feller filling
up a rather raw looking drum in the
back of his pick up... mmmmm, locals.
mmmmmmm, Shoefly Pie....the perfect
SouthCentral snack, sitting on a bench
in the late lunchtime sun.

Spin on up 75, then blissful seclusion down
thru rolling rolling HorseValley, This place
takes me back to rural roadie riding during
the VT days....what a hidden gem. Once
you're in, you're in, just pedal to the other
side and soak it all in.

Qwik refuel in East Waterford, new store is
open, so sterile, modern, compared to
before. bummer flashback to the night it
burned, was there the day before while
out pedaling, and then directly after, freaky....

From there it's just a head down, chomp the bits
and pedal 32T whirlwind circles all the way home.
Intercept the perfect sunset timing from down
valley before the Turnpike, chasing it via sketchy
feeling blurred descent of Wagg's...ride it on old
school instinct...these old Campy brakes are 'speed
modulators', not BRAKES!! We're coasting now...

hit the line from memory and just trust that shit
and relish one final ripper down ze mountain.
Snow could be flying soon and it's been a while.
Maybe coulda caught that car and those Harleys,
but only a 32 ring, and sanity prevailed...did close
the gap though, freakin' vest zipper fumbling....

good times, good times indeed.

day long adventures, oh how I've missed thee.


doing this again

will be a lot of fun.

damn it was cold
that day, can't wait.

Baldy Face, Jan oh 10! from Tomi McMillar on Vimeo.



i could write something
belligerent and ranty.

but I would rather
go to sleep.


the election.

last night pedaling home from voting.
saw an older grandparenty couple,
walking up sidewalk to their quaint
little early suburb brick home. it was
quiet, enjoying a moment of crank
whirring serenity enhanced by that
'I just voted' good vibe. ahhh.

the old couple, she leaning on him
as they also returned home from
our local polling spot. And, oh, look,
a sign in the front yard...

vote for Toomey. ughh.

What a shame, guess they maybe
don't understand the bill of goods
they've been sold.

Quite the hustle.


ya know.....

I read a bunch of
those blogs by those
dirty fucking hippy

and they all, all
of them, complain
about how the
'mainstream media'
treats stories about
the USCofC, Rove's
and the Koch brothers
shadowy groups.

How they, the media,
try to find an equivalency
between secret foreign
contributions and the
spending and financing
of liberal groups, like

Now, why the fuck
would you expect

It's not "Mainstream
Media", it's fucking


look at the fucking parent
companies and wake the
fuck up, the journalists and
the editors know who butters
their bread.

Of course corporate owned
media will shill for the
corporate interests vs
journalistic integrity
which actually does a
service for the greater
good of our society at
large...you know, that
fabled fourth estate.

it's been bought & sold
just like pretty much
everything else, neat.


three trouts

yep, the Breeches has
some wild ones in it.

and more pretty leaves







yeah, somtimers.


sometimes, ya just
gotta say, what, ther is
not. well written.

decide for your fucking self.
as always.




tonight, rolling thru
the four way, in front
of Drinkerson Ociffer,

I got to flip the bird
and holler, "nahhh,

fucking self important
nozzle of douche driver.

ahhhh, road riding,
how I've missed thee.


day in the life.



it's autumn,
can you dig it?


catching up..

So, got that MRI done,
guess I really should've
listened/believed in Dr. Evil,
and saved myself that hit
from the in$urance
deductable. But, damn,
never had tendonitis quite
this bad before. I needed
to see what was going on
inside. No doubts, ya know?

Been spinnin' a bit on the
road and stretching and
doin my interpretation
of the yoga flow and
rubbing in the arnica.
And, shit, that damn
knee of mine is actually
feeling better, go figure.

Not willing though, not yet
willing to trade my Saturdays
on the stream for pedaling
long distances. Harassing
those trout is great balance
to the elevated heartrate,
sometimes dizzy tunnel of
the Sunday ride....

Autumn is here, colors
are changing, in the trees,
in the water. Got up to
explore the Little J a couple
times now. Got turned
onto it after reading about
the electro survey.

Survey says that it's pretty
much a wild brown fishery.
Not stocked, not too many
hold over fingerlings, wild
streambred browns, cool.

Great day up there last wknd,
best day of fishin' I've had
in a while. Hungry & feisty
wild fish, best one went 15ish
on the guesstimated ruler,
average was a solid 12.
Freely rising to a dry presented
in that just oh so right way,
good times....

And the local brookies!
BLING! The males are starting
to strut their stuff trying
to impress the ladies and
are soon to get it on, producing
the next generation, sweet.

Meeshow is an amazing place,
world class riding, world class
natives, and it's all right out
the door. Damn, I sure am
lucky to have such an incredible
backyard playground.


Tractor made me do it.

Apparantly, he wants
to get the word out.

Put out the word to those
who are uninformed, but
who might have interest.
An interest in trying to
ride your bike fasterer
than the other guy can
ride his, or her, bike
thru the forest of Meeshow.

There is beer involved. Beer
is involved and is also tied
to your entry into this non
event of unadvertised bike
event nonsense.

If you think you might be
down like a clown, then drop
me a note, and I might be able
to clue you in....it's happening
this Saturday, before it gets
dark out, and maybe abit past
that. Might need lights, might
not...just be sure to bring
good beer. We'll get out of
the woods safely.



fires burn, if there's fuel.
in the mind, inspiration is fuel.
no inspiration, no fuel, no fire.

gimped up coming out of
the spectacular ski season.
something just wasn't
quite right.

not like it was before.

singular focus and lack
of proper maintenance
produced some apparently
serious imbalance issues.

balance between muscle
groups, balance of desires,
motivation, inspirations.

what more is there, was there,
is there? felt like I'd written a
good bit of that story, definitely
put a bit of final punctuation
on this most recent chapter.

step back, let the embers
smolder and seek some
balance. thought that balance
could come from substituting
sport for sport, but it runs

springtime came, and there
was no desire. no desire to
log the pedal stroke suffering
it takes, the commitment, the
convictions of belief that it's
'worth it'.

there was no longer fuel
for that fire.

the knee.

the knee ached, does ache.
the MRI shows minimal issues,
beyond a poorly tracking and
stressed patella. the meniscus,
the Xcl's are all intact and looking
healthy solid, so those doubts are
now at rest, and I can sleep easier.

the knee, I reflect and wonder.
cuz now it kinda feels like a
scapegoat, an excuse for not
having that fire in the belly that's
been there for soooo many years.

an excuse to not admit that I just
don't have it, that the fire's gone
out. it's a pill to swallow after
fighting all those windmills.

an out, a reason not to.
a reason not to saddle up and pedal,
a reason to do something else.
something much less taxing
on the body and mind.

revisit neglected passions
and seek and explore.

took a laissez fare approach,
just see if things would come
around on their own, they have,
sort of, but it's been slow, tiny
little baby steps towards betterness.
the magnetic pictures tell a tale,
and now put the onus
squarely in my lap.

I want to ski this winter.
I want to ski hard this winter
carve thru the trees and rip
the shit out of some favorite
lines and float again thru that
quiet expanded space of mid
air launching.

whooosh, poof, ahhhhh.

And I want to catch more trouts,
and pedal my bike. And pedal
my bike once again in pursuit of
things not yet done.

I have ideas, dreams, that were
backburnered as I've dealt with
this transition. I've felt that if
I would just harden the fuck up,
the knee thing would correct itself.

But that's not the attitude I need,
not the attitude to make it work.

Accept that I'm softer now with a
belly full of embers, not the previously
raging flames and it's about balance,
finding the balance to feed the beast,
with time given to not feeding that beast,
to not satiating that hunger.

Got a couple months to shed this lazy
man's anchorlike belly, a couple months
to get that patella tracking as it should
and find that balance between adrenal
desires, dreams and intimate mtn stream
mind game pursuits.

So I'm gonna close this chapter,
this chapter's worth of summertime
rebooting. Been checked out in
the shop, and there's work to be
done, but not work work, not like
before. Can't go back, can't ever
go back and catch that wave again,
it's run itself out and crashed onto
the shore.

So gotta find those smaller swells,
let it come to me, breath deep
and wait for the next set, and the
one after and the next and the next,
doing the prep it takes for when that
cyclical storm calls once again.

Square one, once again.


tuna on a cane pole.

and here I thought old school
cane poles were only good for
catching sunnies out of the
local pond.....damn, this guy
is nuts.. and, wow.

Big Yellowfin Tuna on bamboo - Ascension Island 2010 from Morten Svendsen on Vimeo.


not racing.

there's something to it.
get rippin' drunk the
Friday night before?

yeah, who cares.

pack in a hurry, pack half assed
and severely hungover, take the
fishin' kit just in case.

low stress, low low low when
there are no expectations on
yourself, for yourself, by yourself.
been diggin' it.

flattered. flattered by Mumbles,
his assigning me the duty to follow
the top dog uber fast ponies
down those big VA mtn descents.

yeah, like I can hang....

got some decent footage, I think,
hopefully it turns up. got some
decent footage of what it's like to
be dropped over and over and
over again. sweet footage of the
fast guys getting smaller & smaller
into the distance.

rinse and repeat on Braley's,
got a few stills before those
batteries died, ughhh. finally
didn't get dropped, ripping
a fine one down on Pat's wheel.

Then huff & puff trying not to
get dropped by le Churtle's pace
on the flats into CP4...

call it a day.
then enjoy the apres' scene.

but feel a tang. a tinge of
something missing from
the day. that shared battle

man, I gotta get this fucking
knee thing figured out, it's
been long enough.

wonder if I've screwed over
my ski season, waiting a bit
too long....time to get in line
for that tubular magnetic picture
taker I guess. And hope three
months is enough.

but first...a sesh of beginner
Yoga, because I really don't
like knives.



watch this fishin' video, shot on the McKenzie in OR.
from about 1:35 thru 1:55, what is that 'creature' in
the lower lefthand corner? hmmmmmm...



wake up call

gotta get spinin'.

36x12-32, yeah.

southern Michaux.

tiny trouts.

tiny water

elsewhere, did a bit of driving
to the other side of the valley.

and then up and over.

nice tucked away spot
over in the Buchanan.