tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68210869582401747822024-03-14T04:28:30.208-04:00a life long walk to the same exact spotJasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-55329793728497825222010-02-02T17:44:00.005-05:002010-02-02T21:46:58.365-05:00Flagstaff BackcountryI've finally landed back in the American Southwest! Recently I have been in Flagstaff, Arizona visiting some of my very good friends, Russ and Jana. It's been great hanging out and catching up! <a href="http://www.rnadventure-expeditions.com/">(Shameless plug for Russ's guided expeditions.)</a><br /><br />Highlights of the week include deliriously rocking out to <a href="http://www.bigdamnband.com/">The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band</a> Saturday night in Flagstaff. If you ever get the chance to see them, do it!<br /><br />The best part has been making it into the backcountry in the Coconino forest outside of Flagstaff. Today Russ and I warded off the evil demons of whiskey and lack of sleep, got up early, and hiked up the slopes of Snowbowl, the ski area outside of town.<br /><br />We started hiking around 7:30 in the morning and made the top of the highest chair around 9, this was the first leg of our nearly 3000 vertical ft. mission. From there we headed through the backcountry gate and proceeded to bootpack farther up the mountain.<br /><br />We weren't exactly prepared for the conditions below the summit, ice axes and crampons were called for, instead we kicked steps as long as we could. But we got to one particularly steep, windblown, hard, and frozen section and decided we had been sketchy enough.<br /><br />We strapped in and traversed over to a glade across the gulley. The snow was a bit slabby, and we were being overly cautious, so first one of us would go, get to a safe spot, wait, and then the other person would follow. 12,000 ft. up on the side of a potentially avalanche prone mountain is no place to be stupid.<br /><br />After our traverse we cut down the fall line and laid some tracks. The snow wasn't as good as yesterday when we were in the same area. Yesterday it was spring like conditions with wet and heavy powder that was super fun to carve through. Today it was earlier and the snow hadn't softened up yet. Still, it was awesome to find those few fresh spots of powder in the shade of trees and to be surrounded by nothing but wilderness.<br /><br />Except for the parking lot, we only pulled the camera out about halfway down, and shots definitely weren't stellar but here are some of the best.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhFFyhB5I/AAAAAAAAAXc/PoWW7DShrVc/s1600-h/snow+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhFFyhB5I/AAAAAAAAAXc/PoWW7DShrVc/s400/snow+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433840427992156050" border="0" /></a>10 after 7, lack of sleep and coffee equals whatever I'm doing here. Note my house in my truck.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhFky-iPI/AAAAAAAAAXk/T1ZRZeZ0Ch0/s1600-h/snow+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhFky-iPI/AAAAAAAAAXk/T1ZRZeZ0Ch0/s400/snow+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433840436315588850" border="0" /></a>Russ taking a break.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhHUgsFvI/AAAAAAAAAX8/4vy-jv_6B5k/s1600-h/snow+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhHUgsFvI/AAAAAAAAAX8/4vy-jv_6B5k/s400/snow+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433840466303653618" border="0" /></a>Full avy gear, apparently I don't throw caution to the wind anymore.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhGVj9egI/AAAAAAAAAXs/0QmXFC8hku8/s1600-h/snow+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhGVj9egI/AAAAAAAAAXs/0QmXFC8hku8/s400/snow+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433840449405942274" border="0" /></a>Russ ripping it.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhGtch_8I/AAAAAAAAAX0/3uvbLB8ybSI/s1600-h/snow+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/S2jhGtch_8I/AAAAAAAAAX0/3uvbLB8ybSI/s400/snow+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433840455817232322" border="0" /></a>Good example of the hardness of the snow. It's completely untracked and this is about as far as I can get my edge into it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Super fun stuff! Wait, no, it was terrible, in fact, all backcountry is terrible. Everyone should probably stick to the lift served areas everywhere.<br /></div></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-27507234726434221352009-12-05T10:31:00.004-05:002009-12-05T11:06:19.195-05:00Back in the US(S)ASo I've been back in the states for about two weeks now, going through abysmally dull government application questionnaires in hopes that I might have a shot at a temporary job with the National Park Service. Why am I applying to work for the government you might ask? I don't have a good answer for that... if you can't beat 'em join 'em? Maybe...<br /><br />Or maybe I just want to get a job close to my girlfriend that involves being outside and has good benefits. But it is somewhat of an anomaly given my socio-political ideals. And on that note... a quote for the day.<br /><br />"Have you ever noticed that the only metaphor we have in our public discourse for solving problems... is to declare war on it... we have the war on crime... the war on cancer, the war on drugs... but did you ever notice that we have no war on homelessness. You know why? Because there is no money in that problem. No money to be made off of the homeless. If you can find a solution to homelessness where the corporations and politicians can make a few million dollars each, you will see the streets of America begin to clear up pretty damn quick."<br /><br />--George Carlin<br /><br />Ahh, it's great to be back in the good ol' USA!<br /><br />I miss Bolivia, it was bittersweet leaving, and I hope someday I will have the opportunity to return. Below are a few shots from my last day on the road. I was literally on the verge of tears nearly all day long, especially at the animal refuge. <a href="http://www.sendaverde.com/">La Senda Verde</a> is one of the best places on earth. If you are in Bolivia be sure to check them out, stay for awhile, maybe even volunteer! <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDDrUJVgI/AAAAAAAAAW4/xtez7U6HYyE/s1600-h/bike.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDDrUJVgI/AAAAAAAAAW4/xtez7U6HYyE/s400/bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411782001429140994" border="0" /></a>Last time I get to Superman on the road.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDEBP7wJI/AAAAAAAAAXA/p0TVRrQBCBw/s1600-h/bike+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDEBP7wJI/AAAAAAAAAXA/p0TVRrQBCBw/s400/bike+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411782007317053586" border="0" /></a>No major accidents, because of my awesome instruction of course.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDEuW6pAI/AAAAAAAAAXI/i3G7fqkF8Y8/s1600-h/bike+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDEuW6pAI/AAAAAAAAAXI/i3G7fqkF8Y8/s400/bike+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411782019425936386" border="0" /></a>I went out to say good-bye to the monkeys and Sambo climbed into my lap and would not leave for about 15 minutes. It was almost as if he knew I wasn't going to return.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDFJflcLI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/RsoMG-YbH90/s1600-h/bike+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SxqDFJflcLI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/RsoMG-YbH90/s400/bike+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411782026710053042" border="0" /></a>Of course I miss the great mountain biking. However, most of all, I miss the people I met and friends I made. Cesar and myself, one last time with the WMDR in the background.<br /></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-17509003457650135612009-11-13T15:53:00.002-05:002009-11-13T15:55:56.505-05:00Utah Winter Recap VideoMy friend Kyle shot a lot of POV video of us at Snowbird last year and just put together a bit of recap footage. I can't wait to get back to Utah!<br /><br /><object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=7584193&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=7584193&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/7584193">Snow sliding with Jason</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user605148">Kyle Walcott</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-74885664477375500052009-11-11T09:20:00.002-05:002009-11-11T09:30:14.909-05:00Thought for the day, or the rest of your life.I've been a fan of the comedian and political satirist Bill Hicks since I was a kid and heard some of his material sampled by Tool (without really knowing who it was). The documentary Zeitgeist also uses a few of his live dialogues and through these I began to listen to more recordings of his live shows. Within the last year I've given his material a good listen and have come to the conclusion that he was really in touch with reality in many ways. Below is an excerpt I typed up from one of his shows in England. The man was simply brilliant and I wish I could have met him.<br /><br />...........................<br /><br />As scary as the world is, and it is, it is merely a ride. In the amusement park of the universe, it is merely a ride. It has its thrills, it has its chills, it has its ups, it has its downs...<br /><br />The world is just a ride, and some people have known it; we think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are, but it's not, it's a ride. And some people have known it and have come here and told us "it's just a ride", and we have killed those people, because we love the fucking ride. You ever notice that, we always kill the good guys and leave these demons just running amok on the planet, you ever notice that; Jesus murdered, Martin Luther King murdered, Ghandi murdered, Malcolm X murdered, Reagan, wounded. But it's just a ride, and since you know it, (and some people are tired of the ups and downs, and the thrills and chills and prefer instead the quiet), they have to be told it's just a ride...<br /><br />Is it all hopeless, no...Here is my point folks, in the blink of an eye we can have heaven on earth, it's a choice, that's all it is, there's no evolution, no need to go any farther, we know it now, it's all here, it's all clear, it's all right now. It's a choice, you can look through the eyes of fear, you can look through the eyes of love, that's the only two ways to look, the eyes of fear is insanity, it's not really there, the eyes of love are the only real eyes. Heaven on earth right now if you want. <br /><br />It's a choice, to look through the eyes of love instead of the eyes of fear, just once. For instance, that money we spend on weapons and defense each year, that money we spend on buying bigger locks and more fucking cops, instead if we spent that money feeding, clothing, and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, we could as one race explore outer space together in peace, forever. That is my dream.<br /><br />Bill Hicks (1961-1994) at the Oxford Playhouse November 11, 1992.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-31407864724919362822009-11-05T17:09:00.003-05:002009-11-05T18:49:14.329-05:00Song for SaraI wrote and recorded this for Sara during the first few months I was in Bolivia. I did the best I could with the equipment I have; a $50 guitar from a street market, the mic built into my Macbook Pro, and Logic Pro 8.<br /><br />I hope ya'll enjoy. Feel free to download and share; I do have many other songs in a pre-production stage but it'll be awhile before they get to a point where I'm willing to release. Oh, and I need Isaac Brock and Glacial Pace to latch on so when I get an EP together they can work with me.<br /><br />On second thought, this was a pain to get posted up and I'm not sure you can download, but, email me if you want a copy of it and I'll shoot you an mp3.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwnRksxuhHsFUUSNyENgE0-cWvGZ6wpMV3uRgIjfKvObh6GPiRUfSGNeI6N0KSjwRJbfR51Tp5OpmmG_bwaiw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-90002520213505737772009-10-29T17:30:00.005-04:002009-10-29T18:20:01.040-04:00Salar with SaraAbout 3 weeks ago my girlfriend came down from the States to visit. We chilled in La Paz, rode the WMDR (by the way she kills it on a mountain bike), stayed at La Senda Verde, and... went to the Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt flat in the world. The Salar is one of the most surreal places I've ever been. Enjoy the photos!<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6WJxAkI/AAAAAAAAAUw/Hwr4JArqWc4/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6WJxAkI/AAAAAAAAAUw/Hwr4JArqWc4/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140200363819586" border="0" /></a>Sara, mid photo pose, right before we got on the train for a 7 hour ride. Trains are the most relaxing way to travel!<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6Za33UI/AAAAAAAAAU4/sdWuFKrbf1c/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6Za33UI/AAAAAAAAAU4/sdWuFKrbf1c/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140201240878402" border="0" /></a>Thousands of flamingoes flock to this shallow wetland right outside of Orruro. And you thought flamingoes were tropical creatures...!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6icxvwI/AAAAAAAAAVA/A2ZdJDgxGpQ/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6icxvwI/AAAAAAAAAVA/A2ZdJDgxGpQ/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140203664785154" border="0" /></a>Sara, oh so Vogue!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoNqQiJtHI/AAAAAAAAAWI/MneX33_g6Ao/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoNqQiJtHI/AAAAAAAAAWI/MneX33_g6Ao/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398142123000837234" border="0" /></a>Workers loading up raw salt from the flat.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL61N6s8I/AAAAAAAAAVI/OCdNb7jLt5M/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL61N6s8I/AAAAAAAAAVI/OCdNb7jLt5M/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140208702731202" border="0" /></a>This guy showed us how he makes salt from the raw excavation of the salt flat. He operates one of two facilities that supply ALL of Bolivia's edible salt. And by facility I mean a shack that is about 15' x 30'.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6yh2WsI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/3ew5NzRgIQ0/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoL6yh2WsI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/3ew5NzRgIQ0/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140207981025986" border="0" /></a>Classic Salar perspective photo. It might be derivative but it's still cool!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMP-rFewI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IlYa0m6pRDQ/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMP-rFewI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IlYa0m6pRDQ/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140572018244354" border="0" /></a>Uhh, enter your own caption...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMP_T2qSI/AAAAAAAAAVg/BLAHNLEvw4U/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMP_T2qSI/AAAAAAAAAVg/BLAHNLEvw4U/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140572189239586" border="0" /></a>The "island" in the middle of the flat that has a unique ecology, including these cacti.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMQQEV1wI/AAAAAAAAAVw/OCEGZp_iUUU/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMQQEV1wI/AAAAAAAAAVw/OCEGZp_iUUU/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140576687576834" border="0" /></a>Sara with a hawk overhead. If you're into totem animals, Sara and hawks = eerily spooky and always around one another.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMQIszVRI/AAAAAAAAAVo/QHE2ZQgBMgg/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMQIszVRI/AAAAAAAAAVo/QHE2ZQgBMgg/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140574709798162" border="0" /></a>Two buses in the middle of the Salar.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMQjMuEqI/AAAAAAAAAV4/bTUFpRYNyBY/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoMQjMuEqI/AAAAAAAAAV4/bTUFpRYNyBY/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398140581822993058" border="0" /></a>Sunset on the Salar. Absolutely the best sunset I've ever seen. It didn't quit! It went on and on for over 45 minutes. Epic!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoNqOj-K7I/AAAAAAAAAWA/S7YLnOLmjK0/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoNqOj-K7I/AAAAAAAAAWA/S7YLnOLmjK0/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398142122471599026" border="0" /></a>We stayed near a dormant volcano the first night. I got up and hiked near the caldera the next morning. Inadvertently, I left the salt hostel (hostel made of salt, go figure) and my guide and just started hiking on my own. Eventually I met up with another group and joined them for about 30 minutes right when they were venturing into this cave to catch a glimpse of about 10 mummies. It's a bit weird walking into a cave and seeing a bunch of dead people, but it was amazing at the same time.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoNqqgo9PI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/gb1hUWsIx8E/s1600-h/For+Vicky+La+Senda+13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SuoNqqgo9PI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/gb1hUWsIx8E/s400/For+Vicky+La+Senda+13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398142129973818610" border="0" /></a>Last, a classic view of the Salar de Uyuni at sunset. <br /></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-31294505911649382502009-10-10T09:58:00.009-04:002009-10-10T11:04:39.553-04:00Takesi TrailLast week Ben, a client, and myself rode the Takesi trail outside of La Paz. Takesi follows an old Incan / pre-Incan highway, winding down from an altitude of 4,600 meters to roughly 2,100 meters into the Southern Yungas valley. It was one of the most physically and technically demanding rides I've done in my entire life.<br /><br />A short rundown of the day: Hike a bike over an hour up to 4,600 meters (15,100 ft.); ride for 2 hours on an Incan highway (rock garden with rocks ranging from softballs to coffee tables) interspersed with a touch of smooth trail, and more short hike a bike sections; one last short but steep bike on your back hike before descending for over another hour on rocky (but not rock garden) singletrack, followed by a river crossing, another hike, and yet another descent. All told nearly 6 hours including lunch and two flat tires. Usually this trail takes hikers 2-3 days!<br /><br />I was exhausted by the end of it, over 3 hours (just riding) of steep, rocky, and extremely technical downhill. I could barely pull my brake levers by the time the last hour came around.<br /><br />But it was amazing, and for so many reasons...!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXmiFiADI/AAAAAAAAASI/lahhaIuMv9w/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXmiFiADI/AAAAAAAAASI/lahhaIuMv9w/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975442203312178" border="0" /></a>The first hike, you can clearly see the Incan highway. Sometimes it was wide like this, other times it was merely a narrow trail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXnY2Q2RI/AAAAAAAAASY/z9j_Bk25p3Q/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXnY2Q2RI/AAAAAAAAASY/z9j_Bk25p3Q/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975456903223570" border="0" /></a>I'm pretty sure this is a Southern Viscacha; a larger cousin of the Chinchilla that is native to the rocky portions of the Andes. We saw a few of these on the first long hike up, they seemed to be relatively unafraid.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYQalC4HI/AAAAAAAAASo/2sCxPj76XgM/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYQalC4HI/AAAAAAAAASo/2sCxPj76XgM/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976161742512242" border="0" /></a>Resting at 4,600 meters before the first descent.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYRZ4QiYI/AAAAAAAAAS4/ei0PkUE2fN8/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYRZ4QiYI/AAAAAAAAAS4/ei0PkUE2fN8/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976178734532994" border="0" /></a>First descent, not too rocky here, but that changed about 2 minutes later.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYSOhgDyI/AAAAAAAAATI/7OynfddkEng/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYSOhgDyI/AAAAAAAAATI/7OynfddkEng/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976192866160418" border="0" /></a>Extremely rocky sections gave way to more "highway". Note the square edge 4" - 10" high water bars every so often. These things can be pinch flat nightmares if you aren't careful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY5-4h3FI/AAAAAAAAATg/0xAhZXq9-k4/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY5-4h3FI/AAAAAAAAATg/0xAhZXq9-k4/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976875862547538" border="0" /></a>Then the highway becomes rock garden again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY5XLkXKI/AAAAAAAAATY/XR9JEb9RpzQ/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY5XLkXKI/AAAAAAAAATY/XR9JEb9RpzQ/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976865204984994" border="0" /></a>But it doesn't mean Ben can't get a little air now and then.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY6IOsbEI/AAAAAAAAATo/udVTHdsHjFQ/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY6IOsbEI/AAAAAAAAATo/udVTHdsHjFQ/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976878371433538" border="0" /></a>Road toll. Seriously.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY6lk_9QI/AAAAAAAAATw/Myou4Vwmkbg/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY6lk_9QI/AAAAAAAAATw/Myou4Vwmkbg/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976886249616642" border="0" /></a>After the toll we entered a small village (more like a handful of stone huts). The trail was grassy and we could actually sit and pedal for a minute or two!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCchLRmNjI/AAAAAAAAAUo/kgCsCNwJ6h0/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCchLRmNjI/AAAAAAAAAUo/kgCsCNwJ6h0/s320/Takesi+with+Ben.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390980847738697266" border="0" /></a>Yes, people actually live here. And it's awesome!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZfHA8YwI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xeUmTwJBvyI/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZfHA8YwI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xeUmTwJBvyI/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390977513700483842" border="0" /></a>This was my first time on Takesi. Ben had guided it before and he heard last time from one of the Aymara women that her husband had been killed by an Andean bear. In the village two young guys asked us if we wanted to see the bear that killed the ladies husband and 50 cattle. He led us over a stone wall, across a creek, and to the front of a squat stone structure that resembled a cellar. Then he pulled this hide out! Supposedly this is the offending bear... who knows, but damn it was an impressive experience. They shot it with a revolver!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZfYt29dI/AAAAAAAAAUA/TSgG6bz-c_M/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZfYt29dI/AAAAAAAAAUA/TSgG6bz-c_M/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390977518452274642" border="0" /></a>After the village we rode a short ways and stopped for lunch near this bridge.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZgOShKfI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/NTTlMaXd-so/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZgOShKfI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/NTTlMaXd-so/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390977532833114610" border="0" /></a>We continued on and the trail turned into a steep and off camber path, finally we had our first pinch flat. And yes, this is smooth compared to the first half of the trail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZfvOmwmI/AAAAAAAAAUI/AhkF5yD4FqU/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZfvOmwmI/AAAAAAAAAUI/AhkF5yD4FqU/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390977524495204962" border="0" /></a>However, there still are some short rock gardens.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZga7gmPI/AAAAAAAAAUY/YJUCLvGN9V4/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZga7gmPI/AAAAAAAAAUY/YJUCLvGN9V4/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390977536226269426" border="0" /></a>The last really terrible hike a bike.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZ1-KcdJI/AAAAAAAAAUg/kaLIVRoq3X4/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+15.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCZ1-KcdJI/AAAAAAAAAUg/kaLIVRoq3X4/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390977906461406354" border="0" /></a>Resting after the hike.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXnF6YkTI/AAAAAAAAASQ/qxNoVHQ1KFo/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+2+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXnF6YkTI/AAAAAAAAASQ/qxNoVHQ1KFo/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+2+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975451820233010" border="0" /></a>And then finally we had something a bit less technical. Not smooth, but still slightly more flowing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXmTMNNbI/AAAAAAAAASA/aPY-It5C9Lw/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+1+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXmTMNNbI/AAAAAAAAASA/aPY-It5C9Lw/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+1+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975438204777906" border="0" /></a>But there's still rocks!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXngALncI/AAAAAAAAASg/DRaSH5EKvBk/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+3+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCXngALncI/AAAAAAAAASg/DRaSH5EKvBk/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+3+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975458823871938" border="0" /></a>And again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYQ-2ks_I/AAAAAAAAASw/YvZrGfMRGog/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+4+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYQ-2ks_I/AAAAAAAAASw/YvZrGfMRGog/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+4+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976171479708658" border="0" /></a>We stopped again for a short snack, then crossed this river. The bridge below this spot was completely useless, so someone put a few trees down all in one spot as a makeshift bridge.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYRqFFxSI/AAAAAAAAATA/dTHRDfzqTEc/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+5+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCYRqFFxSI/AAAAAAAAATA/dTHRDfzqTEc/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+5+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976183083320610" border="0" /></a>After the bridge we had one last hike that was long, but wasn't too bad. At the top was a single house, and this sign.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We had another 30 minutes or so of riding after the lone house on the mountain. However, I didn't get my camera out again. It was hard enough to interrupt my flow up top as many times as I did, and by this point I was exhausted, so I focused on riding and tried to find enough strength in my hands and forearms to actually use my brakes.<br /><br />All told, one of the best riding days of my life, maybe the best. If you get a chance, do this ride!<br /><br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY5NM5_LI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ljIJBnW39R8/s1600-h/Takesi+with+Ben+6+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/StCY5NM5_LI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ljIJBnW39R8/s320/Takesi+with+Ben+6+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976862526241970" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Parting shot near La Cumbre on our way back home.<br /></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-24276865047202462892009-09-26T20:14:00.002-04:002009-09-26T20:25:38.463-04:00Another Broken ForkSo I broke my fork again, for the second time in less than four months. Granted, I punish my bike and make it do things it wasn't initially designed for, but this is getting ridiculous. So, to remedy the problem, I'm not going to rebuild my fork with new lowers yet again, I'm going to get a new fork... and punish it. <br /><br />Below is a short video of the last time I made it up to La Cumbre to go riding... this line probably contributed to a crack near the axle on my fork. It was one of the more technical (and to be honest, scary) lines that I've ridden recently. It's MUCH steeper than it actually looks. I wasn't extremely satisfied with my flow but I just couldn't ride it any faster with the bike I have (again that problem fork makes bombing gnarly downhill nearly impossible). <br /><br />And I had to dab twice... arghh! However, it was so steep that on the first section the initial line I laid out I couldn't do because I literally couldn't turn, so I just pointed it and hoped that my nearly 3.5" of travel (oh my!) up front could take it. The top worked out, but I could have ridden the second band of rock cleaner.<br /><br />Anyway, enjoy, and as usual forgive the low quality video, we're still using the Pentax point and shoot!<br /><br /><object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6772403&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6772403&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/6772403">Bolivian Mountain Biking</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2279384">Jason Topa</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-20031741135018753972009-09-10T06:32:00.002-04:002009-09-10T06:38:16.114-04:00Cordillera RealThe other day Phil, Ben, and myself headed up to La Cumbre with a group that Steve was leading down the WMDR. And, as usual, we went and hiked and rode some pretty awesome lines in the mountains. I compiled a short video from the photos and (really shitty quality) video, but what do you expect when you film with a Pentax Optio point and shoot? <div><br /></div><div>Hope everyone enjoys, the names we have are pretty tongue and cheek. Steve found a "what riding name should you have" generator online, which explains the cheesy names. All in good fun though!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(100, 95, 94); font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap; "><object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6507025&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6507025&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/6507025">Bolivian Backcountry</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2279384">Jason Topa</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p></span><br /></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-85158047220473556662009-08-28T20:11:00.000-04:002009-08-28T20:12:17.394-04:00For Toby<object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2734675&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2734675&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/2734675">Revolve 2008</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user959649">Scott Currie</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-19450606270929001982009-08-26T22:32:00.004-04:002009-08-26T22:47:36.187-04:00IrrationalityTo entertain myself and keep my brain from becoming a big blob of fetid gelatin I have recently actually started giving a shit about U.S. politics and policy again. I know, I know, my cynical side dies hard, and I still think we're mostly powerless over lobbyist and special interest groups. However, I am intrigued by the health care debate, and the seeming lack of actual real information available about what the hell is being proposed or fed to the general public.<br /><br />One thing is certain; people continue to act like irrational windbags spewing ridiculous hyperbole all over the place, and here's an article to prove it!<br /><br />http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20090826/sc_livescience/<br />healthcaredebatebasedontotallackoflogic<br /><br />+1 for sociology. If you're too busy to read the whole article this blurb about one of the studies sums up people's irrationality quite well.<br /><br />Article by <cite class="vcard"><a href="http://us.rd.yahoo.com/dailynews/livescience/sc_livescience/byline/healthcaredebatebasedontotallackoflogic/33170734/SIG=11nsdukp6/*http://www.space.com/php/contactus/feedback.php?r=jbr">Jeanna Bryner</a><br />Senior Writer<br /><a href="http://us.rd.yahoo.com/dailynews/livescience/sc_livescience/byline/healthcaredebatebasedontotallackoflogic/33170734/SIG=10sog4vj6;_ylt=AknW65ho3guiJJ2wEB8T8UKzvtEF;_ylu=X3oDMTFhcWNhdm9iBHBvcwMyBHNlYwN5bl9zdG9yeV9ieWxpbmUEc2xrA2xpdmVzY2llbmNlYw--/*http://www.livescience.com">LiveScience.com</a></cite><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <p>"Just about everybody is vulnerable to the phenomenon of holding onto our beliefs even in the face of iron-clad evidence to the contrary, Hoffman said. Why? Because it's hard to do otherwise. "It's an amazing challenge to constantly break out the Nietzschean hammer and destroy your world view and belief system and evaluate others," Hoffman said. </p> <p> Just the facts you need </p> <p> Hoffman's idea is based on a study he and colleagues did of nearly 50 participants, who were all Republican and reported believing in the link between the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks and <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1251308836_9">Saddam Hussein</span>. Participants were given the mounting evidence that no link existed and then asked to justify their belief. </p> <p> (The findings should apply to any political bent. "We're not making the claim that Democratic or liberal partisans don't do the same thing. They do," Hoffman said.) </p> <p> All but one held onto the belief, using a variety of so-called motivated reasoning strategies. "Motivated reasoning is essentially starting with a conclusion you hope to reach and then selectively evaluating evidence in order to reach that conclusion," explained Hoffman's colleague, sociologist Andrew Perrin of the <span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1251308836_10">University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill</span>. </p> <p> For instance, some participants used a backward chain of reasoning in which the individual supported the decision to <a href="http://us.rd.yahoo.com/dailynews/livescience/sc_livescience/storytext/healthcaredebatebasedontotallackoflogic/33170734/SIG=125uep33m/*http://www.livescience.com/environment/090220-war-biodiversity.html"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1251308836_11">go to war</span></a> and so assumed any evidence necessary to support that decision, including the link between 9/11 and Hussein. </p> <p> "For these voters, the sheer fact that we were engaged in war led to a post-hoc search for a justification for that war," Hoffman said. "People were basically making up justifications for the fact that we were at war." </p> <p> Their research is published in the most recent issue of the journal Sociological Inquiry."<br /></p><br /><p style="text-align: left;">That is all, now go USE YOUR BRAIN and do some objective reasoning.<br /></p></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-21289044819546020902009-08-20T18:28:00.003-04:002009-08-20T19:10:02.801-04:00Film Crews, Races, and FlannelYet again I have been neglecting posting... so this is long overdue. However, in my defense I have been overworked and under-slept. Regardless, what follows is a bit of randomness mostly covering things that have happened over the last few months that I didn't get around to writing about.<br /><br />Since I've been here I've seen a few film crews come through and take a ride with Gravity: several months ago Ben had a crew from the BBC, about 2 months ago I had a Brazilian TV crew, and shortly after that ESPN Brazil took a ride with Steve. While it is somewhat of a novelty being interviewed and having cameras on you all day, it can become a bit tedious. It is also quite weird when you have a camera hovering, literally, about 14 inches from your face and you're trying to ignore it and keep talking to the person interviewing you.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OhDpsFNI/AAAAAAAAARQ/o9Y98SsVwGc/s1600-h/August+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OhDpsFNI/AAAAAAAAARQ/o9Y98SsVwGc/s320/August+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372176997834036434" border="0" /></a>Me offering instruction with the camera at a more comfortable distance. I'm making sure the guy from the station (eventually he dons a helmet cam) understands how to get down the road without major incident.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OhbjBCMI/AAAAAAAAARY/WXm2iZqYre4/s1600-h/August+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OhbjBCMI/AAAAAAAAARY/WXm2iZqYre4/s320/August+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372177004248500418" border="0" /></a>Film crew at the point where the asphalt ends, unfortunately for them it was pretty cloudy for most of the day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">About two weeks ago I competed in a downhill race in La Paz. Not surprisingly, it was poorly organized, but still quite fun. I had never seen the course before, so it was definitely more challenging and a bit nerve-racking trying to memorize and get a feel for it just an hour before I raced. The course wasn't even marked out when I got there so I spent my practice runs only riding about 2/3 of what would eventually be the official course.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3Oh-9pLpI/AAAAAAAAARg/3Ix_r2hn_zs/s1600-h/August+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3Oh-9pLpI/AAAAAAAAARg/3Ix_r2hn_zs/s320/August+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372177013755424402" border="0" /></a>All geared up in full body armor. At 5' 9" (on a good day) I am not a big guy, but I look huge next to German!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I placed really bad on my qualifying run because there was a major section of the course I hadn't seen. Rolling up on a blind left-hand drop slowed me down considerably. I had to scope the drop and two jumps afterward, eating my time up and placing me 34th out of 37 racers. (Of course I can't be sure of the time because supposedly the fastest qualifier finished 35 seconds faster than is even possible, at least that's what some locals told me)!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OifircbI/AAAAAAAAARo/2kB4ysalKAA/s1600-h/August+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OifircbI/AAAAAAAAARo/2kB4ysalKAA/s320/August+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372177022500696498" border="0" /></a>I didn't get many photos on the practice runs because I was too busy trying to figure the course out. But I did get a shot of Osmar, who works in the office, about to come up WAY short on one of the gap jumps. I hit this first, told him it was easy, and that he just needed lots of speed... not enough speed. To be fair though, his bike was a rental and the shock wasn't set up for him. This was the first practice run, on the second Osmar crashed again, and that time he tore ligaments in his shoulder and couldn't continue on to the qualifier.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Since there were so few racers nobody was cut from the qualifier and we all raced in the final heat. I never received my official standing, but I think I finished somewhere near the middle of the pack. People were racing bikes ranging from hard tails to full on $8000 downhill rigs, and my little old all mountain Kona Coiler (with about 2.5" travel in the fork, apparently something didn't go back together right when I rebuilt it...) labored with some of the terrain. Even if I did have a better bike it would have been pretty tough cracking the top 10; first, because I didn't know the course well, and second, because the top 5 guys are literally the best racers in all of Bolivia, and 4 out of the 5 work for Gravity! <br /><br />All in all it was a great day, and hopefully more races get organized while I'm still here!<br /><br />I found another photo from our last Sorata trip of me riding in a flannel shirt I inherited from my Dad. I'm pretty sure he bought it when I was about 2 years old, I bet he never thought it would be riding singletrack in Bolivia!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3Oi3dOvwI/AAAAAAAAARw/sICc62mN5k0/s1600-h/August.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3Oi3dOvwI/AAAAAAAAARw/sICc62mN5k0/s320/August.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372177028920295170" border="0" /></a>It's really old and beginning to wear through, so after this trip I officially retired it. In my closet it will stay until I leave Bolivia. Who needs high tech synthetics when you can rip in flannel?!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Last but not least. I have been amassing quite a few photos and I'm still toying with the idea of trying to be/make extra money as a photographer. So I am looking for feedback from anyone reading this site. Is anyone interested in purchasing photos that may look something like this one...<br /><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OvVQaZXI/AAAAAAAAAR4/0PTKMhLtrpw/s1600-h/August+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/So3OvVQaZXI/AAAAAAAAAR4/0PTKMhLtrpw/s320/August+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372177243078026610" border="0" /></a>comments or an email to the wanderwideawake(at)gmail account would be greatly appreciated.<br /><br />That's all for now. Get off the computer and go outside!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-10960245165008198222009-07-30T21:27:00.007-04:002009-07-30T21:49:59.851-04:00Snow!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJ52MQ7yI/AAAAAAAAARI/mbjfdpsfIYA/s1600-h/Snow+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJ52MQ7yI/AAAAAAAAARI/mbjfdpsfIYA/s320/Snow+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364431364300009250" border="0" /></a><br />Last Sunday, the 26th, seemed to be a typical day out on the road. My group was somewhat slow, but everyone arrived at the bottom safe and sound. We were a bit late leaving La Senda Verde, still, no big deal.<br /><br />I had some Irish lads in my group and they proceeded to buy a bag of 20 beers. Between them and everyone else the bus kicked off one of the better parties I’ve seen in awhile. I anticipated quite an enjoyable evening drinking beer and talking to Mike, one of my clients, about philosophy, music, psychology, and life in general.<br /><br />And then something unexpected happened. About an hour and a half after leaving we began to encounter snowflakes. Fifteen minutes later and we were in a full on snowstorm. And in another ten minutes we were stuck. As in the bus won’t go any more kind of stuck.<br /><br />With no daylight left we had to make a choice. Steve and his group were in the bus behind us, and collectively we decided to give our clients the only two options we had; stay in the bus overnight, or get out and hike. The upcoming trek possibly could be a total trip of about 14 km in the storm. Yet, both our groups quickly decided that hiking, even if it took 4 or more hours, was preferable to remaining in the bus.<br /><br />We handed out jackets, pants, and orange safety vests from our stash of riding gear. Then Steve and I got out one of our ropes from my rescue kit, doubled it back on itself, and we had everyone grab hold of the rope.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJx0L09vI/AAAAAAAAAQg/DlxmZlL2k08/s1600-h/Before+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJx0L09vI/AAAAAAAAAQg/DlxmZlL2k08/s320/Before+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364431226322351858" border="0" /></a>Geared up and ready to go.<br /></div><br />I led out, hiking at first with my headlamp on and then eventually turning it off as we left the 30 odd buses and cars stuck all within the same half km of road. We moved slowly, stopping semi-frequently because one of Steve’s clients had altitude sickness and was throwing up. After about 2 km one of the random tour buses became unstuck, turned around, and headed back up the road toward us. A few clients managed to get on the bus, including the guy who was sick.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJyIx1OjI/AAAAAAAAAQo/8RoCnx0zmmY/s1600-h/Before+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJyIx1OjI/AAAAAAAAAQo/8RoCnx0zmmY/s320/Before+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364431231850461746" border="0" /></a>I'm pretty tired here. If you look close you can see that I have a huge wad of coca in my right cheek.<br /></div><br />We continued on and at La Cumbre, to my surprise, German, Battle Cruiser driver extraordinaire, came on the radio. He was almost to us and he brought backup in the form of a Policia Nacional pickup truck! They had let him through the road blockade about 10 km below, where I thought our original destination was going to be.<br /><br />We quickly filled the Battle Cruiser and about 7 clients got on another tour bus coming by that had gotten out of the snow. I climbed in the bed of the pickup with Mike, by far the coolest guy I’ve ever had in my group. We continued talking politics and philosophy as the snow and wind swirled around us; my wet feet and hands finally feeling the cold with the absence of physical activity.<br /><br />After about 20 minutes we arrived at the blockade and the police would go no farther. It was sleeting and we were having trouble getting through to a taxi company. Finally we came across a guy who was willing to brave the trip down through the sleet; so Mike, a couple of the Irish guys who rode in the cab of the pickup, and myself all piled into the poor guy’s car. Only the driver’s side wiper worked, and not very well. We spent most of the trip down on the left side of the road with the guy hanging his head out trying to see the left edge.<br /><br />10 minutes later we came to a halt. Flat tire. Luckily we were down in the upper reaches of La Paz and the sleet had turned to rain. We gave the guy 50 bolivianos and apologized for overloading his car, and in all likelihood, giving him the flat. Then we hailed a cab and continued on our journey.<br /><br />Finally, after burning CD’s and dropping off what little gear I managed to collect from clients, I collapsed into bed at 1 AM. But it was a good day, hell, it was a great day! We had adventure, and snow, and we managed to work together and get out of it. One of the more memorable experiences I’ve had since coming to Bolivia.<br /><br />The next day Ben, Phil, and Alistair tried to go out with groups but they had to turn around, the snow was still too deep and the road was effectively blocked. It's only the second time in almost twelve years that a trip has been canceled. (The first was for protests involving dynamite).<br /><br />Yesterday I worked again and the road was clear and dry. There was still snow covering the mountains and it was beautiful riding at the top.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJzCzoS1I/AAAAAAAAARA/Kg2aS3QP5tk/s1600-h/Snow+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJzCzoS1I/AAAAAAAAARA/Kg2aS3QP5tk/s320/Snow+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364431247427259218" border="0" /></a>Gliding down asphalt in a surreal world.<br /></div><br />There’s nothing better than a little adventure to break up some of the more monotonous moments of life!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJyeIirxI/AAAAAAAAAQw/iDoJVoAUiGw/s1600-h/Snow+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJyeIirxI/AAAAAAAAAQw/iDoJVoAUiGw/s320/Snow+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364431237582860050" border="0" /></a>I. Love. Mountains. And snow!<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJyr9HfOI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/uL2hO5_swUI/s1600-h/Snow+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SnJJyr9HfOI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/uL2hO5_swUI/s320/Snow+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364431241293036770" border="0" /></a>So does Phil!<br /></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-83834151582520569852009-07-15T22:39:00.007-04:002009-07-16T00:21:22.795-04:00Sorata Pt. IILast week I was able to make another trip to Sorata with Ben, Steve, and two guys, Juan and Willie, who came to Bolivia from Columbia specifically for the singletrack. They didn't even bother riding the WMDR because they had better things to do. Namely, rip it up all over the place, including possibly my favorite place in the world, Sorata.<br /><br />We had three stunning days in Sorata and the memories will be with us for quite a while. The first day we arrived out of town at the beginning of a trail known as Loma Loma. This is where we started when I was here last with Rob, Rene, and Joe.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TdxP98FI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/45CXtadWu1I/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TdxP98FI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/45CXtadWu1I/s320/Sorata+In+July+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358882746263269458" border="0" /></a>Ben airing out the first jump at the top of Loma Loma.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TeSuM_aI/AAAAAAAAAOg/M5oIjfEkUx8/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TeSuM_aI/AAAAAAAAAOg/M5oIjfEkUx8/s320/Sorata+In+July+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358882755248455074" border="0" /></a>Steve with a killer backdrop.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TeB51m5I/AAAAAAAAAOY/Orcc_W6dZvA/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TeB51m5I/AAAAAAAAAOY/Orcc_W6dZvA/s320/Sorata+In+July+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358882750733851538" border="0" /></a>Steve taking the same line that the pros did last month.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TejW_6kI/AAAAAAAAAOo/LEP46TR_n14/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6TejW_6kI/AAAAAAAAAOo/LEP46TR_n14/s320/Sorata+In+July+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358882759714531906" border="0" /></a>Ben with a wall ride. The run in was junk so it was pretty hard to get speed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Te8f_BxI/AAAAAAAAAOw/aiGZ_4hzFY0/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Te8f_BxI/AAAAAAAAAOw/aiGZ_4hzFY0/s320/Sorata+In+July+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358882766463108882" border="0" /></a>Another wall ride.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UB-cqYvI/AAAAAAAAAO4/r5dGd9rCAAY/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UB-cqYvI/AAAAAAAAAO4/r5dGd9rCAAY/s320/Sorata+In+July+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883368281465586" border="0" /></a>Steve, completely burying the bike in a corner. Note the expression of supreme calm on his face... and no fingers on the brakes whatsoever.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UB1RWriI/AAAAAAAAAPA/cqu2hG8w-Sk/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UB1RWriI/AAAAAAAAAPA/cqu2hG8w-Sk/s320/Sorata+In+July+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883365818117666" border="0" /></a>View of the mountains from the Altai Hostel. The Altai is where we stay every time we go to Sorata.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">On the second day we headed up to another trail called ChuChu. It begins up above tree-line and the first sections are singletrack mixed with scree. There is also a large road gap at the top that Ben hit. I wanted to, and had all my body armor on, but after seeing Ben I chickened out. Maybe after I get comfortable with 30 ft. jumps that don't have a gap in them.<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UCPcnapI/AAAAAAAAAPI/JYqi5NZ_9M4/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UCPcnapI/AAAAAAAAAPI/JYqi5NZ_9M4/s320/Sorata+In+July+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883372844673682" border="0" /></a> There was a slight head wind and Ben had a bit too much speed on the take off, nearly clearing the transition on landing. However, he checked it just enough and landed smooth on the downhill.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UCR7X47I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/_Sqn88FdGos/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 203px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UCR7X47I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/_Sqn88FdGos/s320/Sorata+In+July+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883373510550450" border="0" /></a>Ben and Steve slash scree.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UCn4CyiI/AAAAAAAAAPY/aw_IOdxsgxM/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UCn4CyiI/AAAAAAAAAPY/aw_IOdxsgxM/s320/Sorata+In+July+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883379402164770" border="0" /></a>Ben on the lower slope.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UcsCCDBI/AAAAAAAAAPg/nyOhdyUP5EE/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UcsCCDBI/AAAAAAAAAPg/nyOhdyUP5EE/s320/Sorata+In+July+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883827194399762" border="0" /></a>Steve making huge and fast carves on the lower slope. Shortly after this photo Steve went whipping by me with a look of terror on his face. Apparently a large rock appeared in his line and to avoid it he cut left, but my bike was in the way. And then he hit my bike that was lying down just below where I was taking photos. He somersaulted several times and ended up 25 ft. or so below my bike. Quite possibly one of the funniest things I've seen in a while.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Ucz5eQNI/AAAAAAAAAPo/AsYcq8ESLag/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Ucz5eQNI/AAAAAAAAAPo/AsYcq8ESLag/s320/Sorata+In+July+12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883829305983186" border="0" /></a>Ben laying it down after the scree field.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UddFzwHI/AAAAAAAAAP4/HluDh5zTQcM/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UddFzwHI/AAAAAAAAAP4/HluDh5zTQcM/s320/Sorata+In+July+14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883840363577458" border="0" /></a>To get to the second section of ChuChu there is a steep hike-a-bike that takes about 3 minutes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Uduxj2VI/AAAAAAAAAQA/ZjSIUOMOAcM/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+15.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Uduxj2VI/AAAAAAAAAQA/ZjSIUOMOAcM/s320/Sorata+In+July+15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358883845110487378" border="0" /></a>Steve and Juan riding off into the clouds after the hike-a-bike.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Up5nArCI/AAAAAAAAAQI/QqIgVPzzdSc/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6Up5nArCI/AAAAAAAAAQI/QqIgVPzzdSc/s320/Sorata+In+July+16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358884054177459234" border="0" /></a>Riding at cloud level.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">And then one of the most amazing experiences of my life happened. Ben and I were riding up front and we came over the crest of a hill and there were about 7 wild horses right in front of us. They took off and we followed them, keeping up until a little section that cliffed us out. We were literally riding within ten feet of them and they were galloping along in front and next to us. It was seriously one of the coolest things to happen to me. It was what I imagine being an American Indian was like when they would ride into a herd of Bison. We stopped and some of the horses headed down to a watering hole. I climbed up onto a ridge and gave the go ahead to Ben and the guys so that I could try to get a photo of them riding into the horses again. This time, however, the horses were much more aware and Ben wasn't able to get as close as we initially had. <br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6mxX37i2I/AAAAAAAAAQY/hbk77otKW_g/s1600-h/horses.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6mxX37i2I/AAAAAAAAAQY/hbk77otKW_g/s320/horses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358903973769874274" border="0" /></a>The last frontier.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The next, and last day, we headed up and rode the bottom section of ChuChu again. Unfortunately, no horses appeared, but we had a blast riding some tight and rocky singletrack through trees, fields, and at times local back yards. Dirty and tired we headed back to the Altai, grabbed a quick shower, and then hit the road back to La Paz.<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UqHW2SbI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/E6y5xPaSOe0/s1600-h/Sorata+In+July+17.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sl6UqHW2SbI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/E6y5xPaSOe0/s320/Sorata+In+July+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358884057867766194" border="0" /></a>Sorata "cityscape".<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Before getting to La Paz we took a short detour to a town on the edge of Lake Titicaca where we had trout fresh from the lake. Pretty great way to end three days of the best riding this side of the equator.<br /></div></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-5758888254637084242009-07-14T19:49:00.003-04:002009-07-14T19:57:47.248-04:00New Post Coming SoonI promise... I also posted an email address, feel free to contact me! Job prospects, photography, anything and everything, hit me up! Note that the address is wanderwideawake(at)gmail.com. Clearly, the (at) should be an @ symbol but it is not posted that way in case a spambot tools through my site. <div><br /></div><div>Cheers!</div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-35483036776509551302009-06-26T19:27:00.007-04:002009-06-26T23:09:12.602-04:00The Bock RouteToday Ben, Steve, and myself caught a ride up to La Cumbre with a Gravity group that was going down the WMDR. Instead of doing our work ride we rode and hiked for over 2 1/2 hours in the mountains up to a scree slope we have been eyeing from the road. It was a major mission of fairly epic proportions. Hiking while carrying a 20 lbs. pack and pushing a 40 lbs. bike is no small feat at an elevation of 16,000 ft. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVet7t1w4I/AAAAAAAAANI/DkOJ3rBqXr0/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVet7t1w4I/AAAAAAAAANI/DkOJ3rBqXr0/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351787875416785794" border="0" /></a>Alright, so my bike officially weighs 39.6 lbs. not 40 lbs.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">There were a few sections that we could ride down before pushing up another ridge; it seemed to break the hike up a bit and made the uphills bearable.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfGiB0naI/AAAAAAAAANg/x8pDlNq0Alg/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfGiB0naI/AAAAAAAAANg/x8pDlNq0Alg/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351788298018004386" border="0" /></a>Ben resting before a downhill section.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaV8Ny4jI/AAAAAAAAALI/2I9n3XSrTuo/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaV8Ny4jI/AAAAAAAAALI/2I9n3XSrTuo/s320/Blog+26-6-09+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351783065187443250" border="0" /></a>Steve and Ben (and me) catching our breath after yet another push. Our destination was the peak just over the top of Ben's right shoulder.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVeuO04OfI/AAAAAAAAANQ/bzCi5nLfiMs/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVeuO04OfI/AAAAAAAAANQ/bzCi5nLfiMs/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351787880546580978" border="0" /></a>If you could only see the pain (and joy) on my face.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaV36BvWI/AAAAAAAAALQ/nVS2HnmWDkM/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaV36BvWI/AAAAAAAAALQ/nVS2HnmWDkM/s320/Blog+26-6-09+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351783064030788962" border="0" /></a>Steve leading one of the downhill sections with Ben close behind.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVeuWh6w1I/AAAAAAAAANY/aYwj99tqWSM/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVeuWh6w1I/AAAAAAAAANY/aYwj99tqWSM/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351787882614539090" border="0" /></a>A different perspective on the photo above. I came last and Steve shot this from below. As you can see it's hard to do certain sections justice unless you show multiple angles. (Thanks Steve for the extra photos and video!)<br /></div></div></div><br />Near the top of the peak we pushed up a steep ridge, and quite literally every 50-100 ft. I was stopping to catch my breath.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaWFxGDUI/AAAAAAAAALY/7Q3_3TMdE9g/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaWFxGDUI/AAAAAAAAALY/7Q3_3TMdE9g/s320/Blog+26-6-09+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351783067751419202" border="0" /></a>Steve and Ben on the last push to the top.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">At the top we rested, ate some food, and drank a beer. At 5,000+ m. beer hits you pretty hard and we all laid down for a short rest. Steve and I had a Bock, which is a local Bolivian brew, and Ben coined our trek The Bock Route.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfGxAExrI/AAAAAAAAANo/lpeB0TAyUfg/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfGxAExrI/AAAAAAAAANo/lpeB0TAyUfg/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351788302037206706" border="0" /></a>The namesake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdJ00wIlI/AAAAAAAAALw/3pR5ILYMzw0/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdJ00wIlI/AAAAAAAAALw/3pR5ILYMzw0/s320/Blog+26-6-09+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786155579810386" border="0" /></a>We're pretty much living the life.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">After we rested up we went to scope out our descent down the scree. It is an extremely steep face (we estimate 50+ degrees) and after our exploration we decided not to ride the top part for fear of gaining too much speed and not being able to stop.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdJtf8pTI/AAAAAAAAALo/BfIEFAiqWlM/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdJtf8pTI/AAAAAAAAALo/BfIEFAiqWlM/s320/Blog+26-6-09+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786153613501746" border="0" /></a>Ben, perfect guide pose.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaWfzYYEI/AAAAAAAAALg/1O8N1sAlnWQ/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaWfzYYEI/AAAAAAAAALg/1O8N1sAlnWQ/s320/Blog+26-6-09+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351783074740330562" border="0" /></a>From our resting place, a bit of perspective, notice how the mountain seems to just drop away in front of Ben.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdJ9r7-sI/AAAAAAAAAL4/AX7DAgqmDZM/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdJ9r7-sI/AAAAAAAAAL4/AX7DAgqmDZM/s320/Blog+26-6-09+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786157958757058" border="0" /></a>Even though we didn't ride the top Ben wanted a hero shot of him trying the first 25 ft.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdKDnasgI/AAAAAAAAAMA/lBk9uB7B2WY/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdKDnasgI/AAAAAAAAAMA/lBk9uB7B2WY/s320/Blog+26-6-09+12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786159550411266" border="0" /></a>And another.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdKYwa6vI/AAAAAAAAAMI/_gTobUv8zQk/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVdKYwa6vI/AAAAAAAAAMI/_gTobUv8zQk/s320/Blog+26-6-09+13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786165225319154" border="0" /></a>And, oh yeah, steep. I didn't even try this top part. Ben walked the rest of the way to our designated starting point.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd3tvnYaI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/FjvCJBsb38Y/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd3tvnYaI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/FjvCJBsb38Y/s320/Blog+26-6-09+14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786943953199522" border="0" /></a>We convinced Steve to guinea pig it for us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd3xRHUHI/AAAAAAAAAMY/UPbAn5nDTes/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+15.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd3xRHUHI/AAAAAAAAAMY/UPbAn5nDTes/s320/Blog+26-6-09+15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786944899010674" border="0" /></a>Steve sliding out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd4JcilJI/AAAAAAAAAMg/GAfPy4EulKw/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd4JcilJI/AAAAAAAAAMg/GAfPy4EulKw/s320/Blog+26-6-09+16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786951389385874" border="0" /></a>And 25 seconds later, Steve as a speck.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Then it was our turn. I wanted to tandem it with Ben so Steve could shoot some video of both of us. However, after coming down off my photo spot I realized it probably would be better for one person to lead and another to follow. I was going to let Ben go but he seemed somewhat unsure of the steepness (for those who have been following my blog, this scree is MUCH steeper and longer than the slope in Sorata), and maybe the slide-out just up the slope made him somewhat nervous, so I went for it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mtcsISV7IWc&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mtcsISV7IWc&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd4IowZlI/AAAAAAAAAMo/xEqdubwS6ME/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+17.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd4IowZlI/AAAAAAAAAMo/xEqdubwS6ME/s320/Blog+26-6-09+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786951172187730" border="0" /></a>Ben found his footing!<br /></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd4RPko3I/AAAAAAAAAMw/A481Awpfs3g/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+18.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVd4RPko3I/AAAAAAAAAMw/A481Awpfs3g/s320/Blog+26-6-09+18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351786953482478450" border="0" /></a>Kicking up rocks for the camera.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfHO4csVI/AAAAAAAAANw/GSxe9h4Yxqg/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfHO4csVI/AAAAAAAAANw/GSxe9h4Yxqg/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351788310058283346" border="0" /></a>And stoked!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVetUY1WNI/AAAAAAAAAM4/GjB5-ajW3_c/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+19.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVetUY1WNI/AAAAAAAAAM4/GjB5-ajW3_c/s320/Blog+26-6-09+19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351787864859695314" border="0" /></a>My shot of the same fist pump. You can sort of gauge the angle of the slope... but not really.<br /></div></div></div></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVetimWuYI/AAAAAAAAANA/HHqypRkdJOE/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+20.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVetimWuYI/AAAAAAAAANA/HHqypRkdJOE/s320/Blog+26-6-09+20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351787868674505090" border="0" /></a>You can see our tracks from the road, quite a ways away.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfZF23FWI/AAAAAAAAAOI/_OC-PtYKqgg/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfZF23FWI/AAAAAAAAAOI/_OC-PtYKqgg/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351788616873350498" border="0" /></a>Ben and I checking out our tracks.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We finished off the ride with really steep singletrack (aka llama paths) and then jumped onto a dirt road. After the dirt road we hit the highway and bombed through La Paz back to our house. Riding in La Paz = more scary then any mountain biking! However, once you get the flow of traffic it's not all that difficult to ride in the city.<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfHiTfpXI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Ku29D_2DWRM/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfHiTfpXI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Ku29D_2DWRM/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351788315271996786" border="0" /></a>It's steep, I'm dabbing.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfHbTSjHI/AAAAAAAAAN4/ucoDDgGXtVc/s1600-h/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVfHbTSjHI/AAAAAAAAAN4/ucoDDgGXtVc/s320/Blog-Steve+26-6-09+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351788313392090226" border="0" /></a>Another shot of the singletrack.<br /></div><br />To sum our day up, if a picture's worth a thousand words, then...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaVh8ToNI/AAAAAAAAALA/dE3Y7wcXAGU/s1600-h/Blog+26-6-09+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SkVaVh8ToNI/AAAAAAAAALA/dE3Y7wcXAGU/s320/Blog+26-6-09+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351783058134769874" border="0" /></a>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-75686701032971298612009-06-17T20:12:00.003-04:002009-06-17T20:30:19.572-04:00Random Rides and Unrelated TopicsI’ve been ridiculously busy over the last week and a half. In less than ten days I’ve guided the WMDR 4 times and the Ghost Ride 2 times. Pretty damn busy considering my workday essentially begins at 5:30 AM and usually doesn’t end until 9 PM, or later.<br /><br />Guiding the Ghost Ride has been fun (there is actually real mountain biking on it), but it is disconcerting guiding people who haven’t ridden downhill, much less Bolivian single-track. The stuff is gnarly, and while you can bypass it everyone wants to test themselves and see if they can ride it; good if you know how to take a fall, bad if you don’t. I had one client lose their balance and fall the wrong way on some steep single-track; she landed on her head from about 6 feet up and then somersaulted another 6 feet. Luckily she was an experienced downhill ski racer so falling came pretty naturally and all she did was knock the wind out of herself (I told you I’d mention you Alyson!).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjmHsDB6edI/AAAAAAAAAK4/9sH3JBQ1dbk/s1600-h/Blog+17-6-09+3+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjmHsDB6edI/AAAAAAAAAK4/9sH3JBQ1dbk/s320/Blog+17-6-09+3+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348455223276501458" border="0" /></a><br />You can crash and still have a great time!<br /></div><br />I can deal with falls like that. However, I don’t like it when someone has no experience and takes a fall and then lays there for 10 seconds without moving; that is when I tend to get a bit freaked out. I guess it goes with the territory; but take note, downhill is not like riding flat single-track on your hardtail. You have to turn your brain OFF and feel every subtle balance and weight shift somewhere deep in the sub-conscious awareness of your body. If you start thinking, you will crash and hurt yourself.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjmHr43PLMI/AAAAAAAAAKw/ZOO70_rxFBk/s1600-h/Blog+17-6-09+2+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjmHr43PLMI/AAAAAAAAAKw/ZOO70_rxFBk/s320/Blog+17-6-09+2+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348455220547366082" border="0" /></a><br />Yup, I'm at work right here.<br /><br /></div>Other highlights of the Ghost Ride have been yet another hero photo (thanks Ben); and meeting an older gentleman on the trail. Ben is practicing, and getting better, at speaking Aymara; so he chatted the gentleman up. I gave the old guy some coca leaves I had in my pack and in return he let me take a photo of him. It was Ben’s day off so I took the group ahead while Ben stayed behind and talked to him some more. It turns out the guy even knew some English because he used to work in a mine and they spoke English often when he was working. It’s pretty cool to guide this ride because the Campesinos are friendlier along the trail and we are more of an anomaly to them.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjmHr2ecOgI/AAAAAAAAAKo/TAi_ECUwHFM/s1600-h/Blog+17-6-09+1+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjmHr2ecOgI/AAAAAAAAAKo/TAi_ECUwHFM/s320/Blog+17-6-09+1+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348455219906492930" border="0" /></a><br />Pretty cool guy who was glad to get some coca.<br /></div><br />In other news the re-built fork exploded because one tiny spring seal got mashed when the lowers were put back on the stanchions, so I had to re-rebuild it; however, now it is bombproof and working great. Yet, after using Gravity’s bikes for a few days while mine was down, I can definitively say I’d like something with more travel and more plushness; but 5 inches front and rear will have to do for now.<br /><br />I’m also itching to get a new, better, and faster camera but that is a long shot here in Bolivia. I don’t make enough money to buy anything like that, especially in Bolivia where electronics seem to be roughly double what they cost in the states. From what I can gather electronics and motorcycles are the only things that cost more here. So if anyone wants to kick me a Nikon DSLR with a FF sensor I happily take donations.<br /><br />I also just watched Zeitgeist: Addendum again. You can find it <a href="http://www.zeitgeistmovie.com/dloads.htm">here</a>. While parts of it, especially the last 2 minutes, can be quite cheesy I think it would benefit everyone to give it a view. Especially if it means spending 2 ½ hours watching something intellectually stimulating instead of the disposable reality/sitcom/drama crap that permeates television. Fundamentally I agree with most of what the film says, although it will take a significant shift in the ideology and paradigm of thought before visible large-scale change can happen. I think one of the most interesting observations the film makes is the inherent ethical flaw in our current conception of society and the system it adheres to. Negative ethical characteristics and considerations are built into our conceptions and are necessarily given a shade of grey so, in my opinion, we can sleep well at night while people around the globe die of starvation and disease. And the ultimate point of the film is it doesn’t have to be like this.<br /><br />It looks like I may have tomorrow off so I’m going to try to do some more songwriting; possibly a sneak preview of my album may be forthcoming in the next few months. At the moment I have one song down and the entire album, it appears (because I’m in Bolivia), will be recorded with the mic built into my MacBook Pro. I’m using an acoustic guitar to record the rough tracks (and sing along to) and then I’m adding MIDI software instruments, mixing, and mastering in Logic Pro 8, with a few rough tracks put down in Garageband. I’ve recently discovered the beauty of Logic, and since I forgot my Digidesign hardware in the states I can’t use ProTools. It seems to be a blessing in disguise because I’m forcing myself to learn a new DAW and I’m not tied to ProTools’ archaic GUI and terrible hardware (although the built in mic in my laptop isn't any better than my mBox's junk preamps). Still, I have to give ProTools props for engineering one of the fastest work environments for straight recording; but I am getting better at Logic, and control of MIDI and composition is leaps and bounds better than ProTools.<br /><br />And if you haven't checked it out the article I wrote about guiding the WMDR can be found <a href="http://www.oddee.com/item_96705.aspx">here.</a> It's had over 25,000 views which is kind of crazy. I never expected that many people to read it but I'm happy so many are enjoying it... or maybe they're just falling for the catchy headline!<br /><br />In a nutshell, Bolivia is still amazing and life is great, so come and visit!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-8157796650603325662009-06-11T20:12:00.006-04:002009-06-11T21:00:47.827-04:00From Extraordinary to Something More MundaneI'm pretty sure nothing will be able to top the amazing time I had last weekend for quite awhile. So to put down something on the side of the less than extraordinary I offer up some of what I did yesterday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjGiSJhT2uI/AAAAAAAAAKg/BZb25-Kq5dQ/s1600-h/Bike+Stuff+2+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjGiSJhT2uI/AAAAAAAAAKg/BZb25-Kq5dQ/s320/Bike+Stuff+2+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346232665342466786" border="0" /></a>Above is a photo of all the parts that have broken and/or had to be replaced since getting to Bolivia. From left to right: Fork that I broke in Sorata last weekend. Hub, I rebuilt my fork with new sliders and now have a 20 mm through-axle, so the old hub had to come off. Bottom bracket that was toast before I even got here. Brakes that were half way to being junk when I arrived.<br /><br />Coming soon: Pictures of my bike with a ton of new parts! I still need to replace my drivetrain, but since I just spent $180 on my fork and hub the drivetrain will have to wait for awhile. Take my word though, she is looking pretty nice.<br /><br />So after spending about 4 hours working on my bike I then went home and did my laundry... by hand. I decided to start doing it myself (instead of taking it to the laundry lady across the street) for two reasons: 1) I get charged 10 bs. per kg. of laundry, this doesn't sound like much but it's really easy to spend between 50 and 100 bs. every time I do laundry. 2) Every time, and I mean every time, inexplicably she doesn't have my socks done and I have to pick them up the next day or several days later because I have to work. I'm totally done with having my socks in limbo all the time!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjGiR4rHV0I/AAAAAAAAAKY/Ampd1MVie5E/s1600-h/Bike+Stuff+1+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjGiR4rHV0I/AAAAAAAAAKY/Ampd1MVie5E/s320/Bike+Stuff+1+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346232660820186946" border="0" /></a>Some may ask, well why not go to the laundromat? If you can find me a laundromat in Bolivia I will... so far I haven't seen one anywhere. So for about 22 bs. worth of detergent (that I can use for at least 10 laundry sessions) and some sort of laundry soap bar, I did my laundry in the outside sink of my house. Not too bad actually, I put on the iPod and had a mini dance session while I worked... it only took about half an hour.<br /><br />So basically I just saved $10 that goes to the "my bike broke again" fund. Sweet!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-33794091621024239112009-06-07T19:23:00.012-04:002009-06-10T19:36:25.648-04:00Sorata: Quite Possibly the Best Weekend EverOn Friday I didn’t have to work so I took the opportunity to sleep in… until 8 AM. When I got up I went to the workshop to replace my severely worn bottom bracket. Next I hastily packed; or more like threw riding gear, clothes, camera, iPod, and a sleeping bag into my pack. Then it was off to Sorata, a small town about 3 hours from La Paz.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBqJxnyI/AAAAAAAAAHo/85l9pC4vY6Y/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBqJxnyI/AAAAAAAAAHo/85l9pC4vY6Y/s320/SelfPortraittest+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844254439743266" border="0" /></a>Me. I handed my camera over so I could get a hero shot.<br /></div><br />The mission? Tag along with some Gravity Bolivia guys (such as the owner) and Marco Toniolo, a professional photographer; all this while riding with Joe Schwartz, René Wildhaber, and Rob Jauch. Three sick professional mountain bikers, just google them, you’ll see.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBdGSIiI/AAAAAAAAAHg/4KvZXoHhq6I/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBdGSIiI/AAAAAAAAAHg/4KvZXoHhq6I/s320/SelfPortraittest+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844250935435810" border="0" /></a>Top of the mountain on Friday.<br /></div><br />Sorata by far has my favorite type of riding; long, fast, steep, and for the most part “flowy” downhill with a great mix of single-track (some super exposed on the edge of 600 m. cliffs) and a few open grassy bowl type sections. On day two there were also some jumps, drops, and a steep section of scree that sent me tumbling the second time around when I tried to carve too much.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBycT4_I/AAAAAAAAAHw/6YFNQcRHgAY/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBycT4_I/AAAAAAAAAHw/6YFNQcRHgAY/s320/SelfPortraittest+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844256664970226" border="0" /></a>Single-track that flows.<br /></div><br />However, the highlight, by far, was getting to see professional mountain bikers at work (riding) and being able to shoot photos over the shoulder of a pro mountain bike photographer. I don’t claim to be an expert mountain biker, although I’m definitely not a punter; however it was remarkable to ride with guys like Joe, Rob, and René. And by ride I mean ride with them for about 20 seconds before they blew me away and then catch up a few minutes later at the next stop. Coupled with the most fun terrain I’ve ridden in Bolivia so far, this weekend may go down as one of the best ever.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBB4vHFoI/AAAAAAAAAH4/LWHgY02YCSE/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBB4vHFoI/AAAAAAAAAH4/LWHgY02YCSE/s320/SelfPortraittest+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844258354435714" border="0" /></a>Rob airing it out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBePHxKVI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/HGFqqKnhXw4/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBePHxKVI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/HGFqqKnhXw4/s320/SelfPortraittest+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844745399773522" border="0" /></a>Joe making the most of the approaching darkness.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBeG7fEsI/AAAAAAAAAII/c9kWYwPGdk0/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBeG7fEsI/AAAAAAAAAII/c9kWYwPGdk0/s320/SelfPortraittest+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844743200772802" border="0" /></a>René + air = magic.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBdxS07iI/AAAAAAAAAIA/atu-XKNHTiw/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBdxS07iI/AAAAAAAAAIA/atu-XKNHTiw/s320/SelfPortraittest+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844737393094178" border="0" /></a>Not to be outdone Joe stepped up and hit a home run.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBeXnlgPI/AAAAAAAAAIY/A7Ljpvmfnc4/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBeXnlgPI/AAAAAAAAAIY/A7Ljpvmfnc4/s320/SelfPortraittest+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844747680710898" border="0" /></a>I'm pretty sure Marco's version of this shot is going to end up in a magazine.<br /><br /></div>On Friday we rode an upper section called Loma Loma that yielded great photos with a rising moon and alpenglow hitting the mountains in the background. The general plan for the rides seemed to be go down once, figure out where the good shots are, then make it back to the top in time to ride down during magic hour. After the sun had just set, we were still on the trail trying to make it to the road in the dusk and moonlight. It was one of those surreal moments that are really hard to put into words. Riding an amazing trail during twilight with professionals who were as stoked as I was about the riding and atmosphere; simply amazing.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBeqmJweI/AAAAAAAAAIg/WbT1EveP92A/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBeqmJweI/AAAAAAAAAIg/WbT1EveP92A/s320/SelfPortraittest+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844752774971874" border="0" /></a>René pulling a sick manual because he can.<br /></div><br />We made it to the road and decided to ride to our destination in the moonlight; this mainly consisted of us bombing down a winding ribbon of asphalt (and a bit of gravel). It was a high-speed thrill with the mountain, lit by moonlight, shining brightly down on Sorata.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLD4DYwI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Dth0Z6oZ2ds/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLD4DYwI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Dth0Z6oZ2ds/s320/SelfPortraittest+12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345845515475182338" border="0" /></a>Speechless.</div><br />That night we stayed at Altai Hostel, a funky little place a few minutes outside of downtown. They have a laid back feel, great food, and the best wine I’ve had since getting to Bolivia. (Note: When you can, order a bottle of 2007 Casillero del Diablo, it’s an extremely tasty Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon, and at just over $9 US it may be the best deal ever). Couple that with the biggest t-bone steak I’ve ever seen and you too may be in heaven. Plus, Altai has everything from camping (by a rushing stream) to a nice little cottage for couples. And, they have an assortment of animals, including a very friendly horse that just wanders around the grounds.<br /><br />Saturday morning we headed up to another trail called Choo Choo that begins at about 4,200 m. A quick breakdown: single-track, a huge scree slope, some more single-track, a rock playground, dirt road, and then a short but steep and exhausting hike up to my favorite riding of the weekend. It followed a grassy ridge for a short way and then led to several open bowls that were covered in grass. Good traction (I’m not an expert, remember?) led into little hips and drops that were super fun. This went on for a while before we hit tight and narrow single-track that wound down through dense trees and then over roads and past small farms, houses, and enclaves of residences.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCsFvr9JI/AAAAAAAAAJY/P5lp3o64NPo/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+17.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCsFvr9JI/AAAAAAAAAJY/P5lp3o64NPo/s320/SelfPortraittest+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345846082912646290" border="0" /></a>The guys slashing scree.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLTc6lPI/AAAAAAAAAJA/36ZM99PbwE4/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLTc6lPI/AAAAAAAAAJA/36ZM99PbwE4/s320/SelfPortraittest+14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345845519656326386" border="0" /></a>A better perspective on the steepness of the scree.<br /></div><br />Once at the bottom we headed back up to do it all over again. Unfortunately for Marco, someone had set a small part of the mountain on fire and the smoke interfered with the light. Then a large cloud rolled in from nowhere and effectively ended the photography. However, in between the smoke and the cloud I had a couple crashes within the span of about 15 minutes that had me scratching my head. The first happened when I was trying to carve the scree back and forth, somewhat like skiing. Riding extremely loose and steep terrain like scree can be rather unnerving. The technique used is lock your rear wheel and literally plow down the mountain with almost all your weight on your back tire. I was getting a little too comfortable and instead of going straight with a few shallow turns (executed by shifting your weight) I was trying to make more pronounced slashes. On one of these I was going too slow and buried my front end; somehow I came off the bike upright and facing the slope. When I landed my momentum carried me ass over teakettle and I effectively did a back somersault, and came up on my feet again. No big deal; all the pros saw me, but hey, I’m not a professional!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCsThgCXI/AAAAAAAAAJg/vWIIcjlgFeY/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+18.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCsThgCXI/AAAAAAAAAJg/vWIIcjlgFeY/s320/SelfPortraittest+18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345846086611241330" border="0" /></a>Marco in action.<br /></div><br />A little bit farther on I came off a small jump too fast and landed just right of the single-track that I needed to be in. I got on the brakes hard and tried to crank the bike left to no avail. The bike went down and I went over the handlebars. I was beginning to think I must be suffering from exhaustion and loosing my focus.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCKxZTCPI/AAAAAAAAAIo/fNkGD234lHM/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCKxZTCPI/AAAAAAAAAIo/fNkGD234lHM/s320/SelfPortraittest+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345845510514346226" border="0" /></a>René, not just a downhill champion.<br /></div><br />Another little downhill section, past the rock playground (where I thought about hitting that rock René is coming off of), and I was out on the road. As the group came together I looked down at my handlebars and noticed they were cocked off to the right. I thought my stem or headset must have come loose in one of the crashes so I got off and cranked on the bars while holding the tire. There was a loud pop and then everything lined up and the bars felt stable again. I thought that was weird so I took a closer look at the fork; sure enough, I had broken the fork arch clear through sometime during the last 20 minutes. Did it happen during one of the crashes? The jumps? Whatever it was, much to my chagrin, it effectively ended my riding for the weekend.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLiAR0hI/AAAAAAAAAJI/27knQZULzBo/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+15.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLiAR0hI/AAAAAAAAAJI/27knQZULzBo/s320/SelfPortraittest+15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345845523562746386" border="0" /></a>The upper short section of scree. Way steeper than it looks.<br /></div><br />Sadly, I missed my favorite grassy section. But a large plate of alfredo with mushrooms and a couple glasses of Casillero del Diablo cheered me up. I can’t complain about such an amazing experience; even though it was cut short.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLKc0ewI/AAAAAAAAAI4/0d8N2LSEOBM/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCLKc0ewI/AAAAAAAAAI4/0d8N2LSEOBM/s320/SelfPortraittest+13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345845517240007426" border="0" /></a>21,000 ft. Illampu and Janq'uma peaks.<br /></div><br />This morning I caught an early morning ride into Sorata with the guys. I said goodbye to René, Rob, Marco, and Joe; instead of riding I took a microbus back to La Paz. Which is an experience quite unlike any other as well.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBAFJu7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/niPpa22ktPA/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBBBAFJu7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/niPpa22ktPA/s320/SelfPortraittest+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345844243146062770" border="0" /></a>On the way to (or from) Sorata you pass within sight of Lake Titicaca.<br /></div><br />At first I had an Aymara woman sitting next to me with her little girl strapped to her back. After about half an hour she took off her wrap, slung the baby around, and set the child down in her lap. The little girl was quite shy and spent most of her time under the blanket, but occasionally she would doze off and part of the time she was resting her head on my leg. Sorata, being mainly a country town, naturally has mostly country folk and everyone in the bus had the slight stench of animals on them. Yet it didn’t really bother me; and it was interesting to see people come in and out of the bus. Some rode to another town, some got on along the road; it was a free-flow of bodies coming and going.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCsBPnR4I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/I5iiR21k30Y/s1600-h/SelfPortraittest+16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SjBCsBPnR4I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/I5iiR21k30Y/s320/SelfPortraittest+16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345846081704380290" border="0" /></a>The farms surrounding Sorata.<br /></div><br />Sunday traffic was quite heavy in La Paz this morning. I caught a taxi from the microbus drop-off point, and nearly 4 hours from the beginning of my journey I arrived back at mi casa. Looks like I’ll be learning how to rebuild a fork (this time with brand new sliders) sooner then I thought. However, I couldn’t really ask for a better weekend. So many new sights and experiences!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-31675435602500943052009-05-30T18:20:00.005-04:002009-05-30T18:52:51.754-04:00A Short Trip to the Hospital<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SiG1AKM4lfI/AAAAAAAAAEo/P_plRuvoqrs/s1600-h/IMGP4373.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SiG1AKM4lfI/AAAAAAAAAEo/P_plRuvoqrs/s320/IMGP4373.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341749647381140978" border="0" /></a>Last Sunday, while riding the (amazing!) single-track I had a few minor wipeouts. Apparently on one of them I injured my foot and the severity of the injury didn't set in for about 3 hours. By the time I made it back to La Paz I couldn't walk or put any weight on my left foot.<br /><br />Pain from the injury made sleeping quite difficult Sunday night, and upon waking Monday morning I decided an x-ray was in order. So I went down to the "second best hospital" in La Paz, only a 6 bs. cab ride from my house, to get it checked out.<br /><br />Upon arrival they immediately put me in a wheelchair, and about 15 minutes later they wheeled me in to get an x-ray. No consultation or "hey what hurts". Just straight to x-ray. I'm pretty sure the cold war era machine took at least 10 days off my life, but within 45 minutes the doctor assured me that there was nothing broken. X-ray: 150 bs. 5 minute consultation in which the doctor told me nothing except "it's not broken": 500 bs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SiG1Uh_I3HI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_M8Oj3-mb4o/s1600-h/IMGP4374+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SiG1Uh_I3HI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_M8Oj3-mb4o/s320/IMGP4374+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341749997363321970" border="0" /></a>Moral of the story... maybe it's not necessary to go to the hospital where all the gringos and rich people go. I was tipped off to this when the doctor wanted me to come back the next day to "see how it was doing" and maybe get a cast put on or get an injection for the pain. Seriously, an injection for a sprained (albeit badly) ankle? I definitely didn't go back the next day. Relatedly, one of my friends just went to get some testing done at a hospital that was not so "nice". Cost of 15 minute consultation with a specialist: 35 bs. So I learned two valuable lessons;<br /><br />1) American medicine, (caveat emptor!) if you can pay for it, is pretty damn awesome.<br />2) If you don't want to get ripped off, stay away from any establishment that caters to: a) rich people and b) rich white people.<br /><br />And, while I don't have a photo of the exact area that I think it happened on, I'm pretty sure it was only a few hundred meters below where I took this photo. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SiG2raYwQyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/2pHdjVtcGRo/s1600-h/DSC_1378.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/SiG2raYwQyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/2pHdjVtcGRo/s320/DSC_1378.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341751489971897122" border="0" /></a>I foolishly tried to cut a really steep left hand turn and slid out on extremely loose dirt/scree. Almost miraculously, today, less than a week later, I am about 98% back to normal. I've never had an injury that sidelines me heal so quickly. Pretty crazy, but I guess Percoset, Diclofenac, and lack of oxygen combine in some sort of nuclear fusion to promote rapid healing; what do you expect, it's Bolivia!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-28701525807072608422009-05-27T19:37:00.000-04:002009-05-27T20:39:10.902-04:00Mmmmm.... food.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3Szk3BbcI/AAAAAAAAAEA/i1nc9i4LTG4/s1600-h/DSC_1455.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3Szk3BbcI/AAAAAAAAAEA/i1nc9i4LTG4/s320/DSC_1455.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340656516640894402" border="0" /></a><br />I want to start this post with a picture of what you can buy at the cheapest market in La Paz. For 49 bs. ($7) you get: 4 medium onions, 8 tomatoes, approx. 1/2 lb. fresh basil, approx. 1 lb. spinach, a bulb of garlic, 5 slices of whole wheat bread (so thick it's like a full loaf), 3 large avocados, approx. 1 lb. of Argentinean Gueyere, and approx. 3 lbs. of carrots. No joke. And, it's all organic because few Bolivian farms can afford to use pesticides or herbicides. Did I mention I love Bolivia...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3VPSkcEjI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Y32WkXvnlgM/s1600-h/IMGP0001.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3VPSkcEjI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Y32WkXvnlgM/s320/IMGP0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340659191790703154" border="0" /></a><br />Another reason Bolivia rules. Coca-Cola made with REAL sugar, and in a bottle containing a portion that doesn't make you sick. 190 ml bottle is only 1 1/2 bs. That's roughly 6 ounces of pure goodness for about 21 cents. Coupled with a <em>salteña </em>it's the perfect snack if you're feeling like rebelling against all that veggie goodness above.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3WXk3shAI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/zvpfarTIKKI/s1600-h/DSC_0983.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3WXk3shAI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/zvpfarTIKKI/s320/DSC_0983.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340660433653892098" border="0" /></a><br />In case anyone's curious, that's my house on the left. Photo taken from our patio/parking area.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3WxAGykWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/1duQ7TvsxOk/s1600-h/DSC_0984.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3WxAGykWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/1duQ7TvsxOk/s320/DSC_0984.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340660870461690210" border="0" /></a><br />The wall that separates our house from the street. Note the broken glass cemented into the top of the wall and the barb wire, quite the theft deterrent.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3XhWID3qI/AAAAAAAAAEg/LtamWaxTv0k/s1600-h/DSC_0264.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Sh3XhWID3qI/AAAAAAAAAEg/LtamWaxTv0k/s320/DSC_0264.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340661701006319266" border="0" /></a><br />The view out from the back of our house. You can see El Alto up above where all the antennas are located.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-73260608791763234062009-05-26T20:47:00.000-04:002009-05-26T20:53:04.223-04:00Should have listened to the guide just a little bit more closely.<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ndNHujGotRg&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ndNHujGotRg&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-7148521213651548652009-05-26T19:29:00.000-04:002009-05-26T20:46:21.225-04:00Singletrack<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Shx7qSgMBII/AAAAAAAAACg/Se4yXniDbUw/s1600-h/BlogSST+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Shx7qSgMBII/AAAAAAAAACg/Se4yXniDbUw/s320/BlogSST+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340279224606131330" border="0" /></a>On Sunday I had the opportunity to ride, literally, the most gnarly and technical downhill singletrack I've ever ridden. The first section had great views of Illimani, a 21,184 ft. snowcapped monster. I spent much of the day trying to get photos specifically for Gravity Bolivia. The three clients on this trip had it pretty good with a 1:1 guide ratio, awesome riding, and great views.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Shx_MKL7JyI/AAAAAAAAACw/CmHrCwgtMfM/s1600-h/BlogSST+8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/Shx_MKL7JyI/AAAAAAAAACw/CmHrCwgtMfM/s320/BlogSST+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340283105024091938" border="0" /></a>Phil with Illimani and the flat topped Mount Mururala in the background. Legend has it that Illimani became jealous of Mururala, who once stood taller, and threw a stone at Mururala, slicing off its head and leaving behind a shorter flat peak.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyBWYN8EaI/AAAAAAAAAC4/eVHSOtzgZGw/s1600-h/BlogSST+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyBWYN8EaI/AAAAAAAAAC4/eVHSOtzgZGw/s320/BlogSST+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340285479612584354" border="0" /></a>Ben catching some serious air.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyCE_1hWII/AAAAAAAAADA/SC2AVjhuiKo/s1600-h/BlogSST+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyCE_1hWII/AAAAAAAAADA/SC2AVjhuiKo/s320/BlogSST+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340286280521570434" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />On the way to our second single-track. Pre-Incan ruins that are burial structures.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyDbM0hW9I/AAAAAAAAADI/mQlE4DaJmMI/s1600-h/BlogSST+11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyDbM0hW9I/AAAAAAAAADI/mQlE4DaJmMI/s320/BlogSST+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340287761475787730" border="0" /></a>Heavily laden donkeys in a village we rode through. On the trail we also spotted a herd of sheep and an old man who walked across the entire valley to see his family. He had on his Sunday best and must of walked well over 10 miles and climbed roughly 4,000 ft. all in a suit!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyEsGKNR5I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ZGXZPk5u4yk/s1600-h/BlogSST+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyEsGKNR5I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ZGXZPk5u4yk/s320/BlogSST+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340289151257102226" border="0" /></a>The steepest switchbacks I have ever ridden... the photo doesn't even come close to doing the angles justice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyFaYfeV6I/AAAAAAAAADY/CNNzIS-56jI/s1600-h/BlogSST+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyFaYfeV6I/AAAAAAAAADY/CNNzIS-56jI/s320/BlogSST+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340289946452121506" border="0" /></a>Ben with more vertical release. He landed so hard the rear tube popped.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyF0i2ozVI/AAAAAAAAADg/xIsnbESSdGM/s1600-h/BlogSST+9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyF0i2ozVI/AAAAAAAAADg/xIsnbESSdGM/s320/BlogSST+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340290395910229330" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Nice open single-track before the gnarly descent.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyGWFWN22I/AAAAAAAAADo/D4kgP9oa3pU/s1600-h/BlogSST+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShyGWFWN22I/AAAAAAAAADo/D4kgP9oa3pU/s320/BlogSST+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340290972105169762" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />T-Rex Ben!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-17212161715808801432009-05-22T20:13:00.000-04:002009-05-22T21:12:02.422-04:00Jungle MusingsA few days ago I tagged along on another ride that Gravity Bolivia offers, called the Ghost Ride. While the riding was fun, with some steep single-track in the beginning, the real gem of the day was a thought and realization I had when we stopped at a “haunted castle” to eat and relax.<br /><br />Sitting there, in the old castle/mansion, having recently finished a late lunch of ice cold Bolivian beer, fresh trout, salad, and for dessert the best pear I’ve ever tasted, I had one of those moments where I ask myself, “what more do I need?” And, more importantly, what don’t I need? I’m sure part of it was that I am clearly affected by food, ask my girlfriend how important good food is to me, or ANY food if I’m cranky; definitely in the top 3 things in the world for me. Yet, as I was sitting there in the castle, in the Bolivian jungle, satiated and happy from food and physical exertion, I began to think about all the things we don’t need, and how hard it was to focus on what I find the greatest enjoyment in when I was constantly distracted back in the states.<br /><br />When I’m riding (aka “working”) I’m not thinking about what the Dow is doing, or what new emails I have, or what’s new on Facebook. I don’t have a car, a TV, or a video, book, and CD collection. I make enough money to eat and pay my bills, I’m not really saving any money, but what would I save it for? An SUV? A big-screen television? A house that is worth less than I bought it for? Is what we’ve been taught about happiness getting through to anyone?<br /><br />It is maximally cliché to say, “money doesn’t buy happiness”, or “things don’t buy happiness”, yet it seems as if few people are putting these overused sound bites into action. In my perception most people pay them lip service; and instead sacrifice, usually with minimal cognition, their own personal values, goals, and dreams.<br /><br />Today I read an <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/24/magazine/24labor-t.html">article</a> by Matthew B. Crawford in the New York Times discussing the differences he personally experienced in work, from the coveted office job with a Phd. to starting his own motorcycle repair shop. Maybe I just like to read articles that reinforce my decisions and make me feel as if I’m not squandering my Ivy League education. However, he makes a fairly convincing argument for the value of tangible and physical work. Briefly, in the last twenty years the educational system of the U.S. and to a large extent the world has been focused on cultivating “knowledge workers”. The more formal and academic education you have the better; the more specialized and removed from the end result the worker is, so be it. Sitting in a cubicle, and then the boardroom, and then the large office is the goal, the objective. Blue-collar work is to be avoided, or least is reserved for those not quite as talented. As Matthew puts it, “A gifted young person who chooses to become a mechanic rather than to accumulate academic credentials is viewed as eccentric, if not self-destructive. There is a pervasive anxiety among parents that there is only one track to success for their children. It runs through a series of gates controlled by prestigious institutions. Further, there is wide use of drugs to medicate boys, especially, against their natural tendency toward action, the better to “keep things on track.”"<br /><br />I’ve experienced both of the aforementioned, first with “What are you going to do with a degree in Philosophy”, and, “Why the hell do you want to move to a third world country, make no money, and risk your life careening 12,000 ft. down a mountain every other day”. Prior to Bolivia I observed the effects of the pervasive application of concentration drugs such as Focalin and Adderal on the lives of young teenagers, especially boys. I won’t digress into medication philosophy, but if you think anyone can spend 8 hours a day “learning” in a detached and intangible setting without any sort of negative side effect, you are delusional. Couple that with the “relaxation” of hours and hours of TV and video games… that’s one unhappy person.<br /><br />Everything we do affects our psyche. I remember someone told me once, and I wish I remember who, that what we do, especially occupationally, will quite literally change who we are. Do I have a double-blind, peer reviewed test to prove that statement. No, but I do have plenty of anecdotal and observational evidence for it. And quite honestly, that is all I need.<br /><br />A few days ago I spent upwards of 4 hours working on my bike (or rather, asking questions and helping Carlos,Gus, and Jubi work on my bike!) and at one point I paused for a second and thought to myself, “This is great, I’m learning all sorts of new stuff, and seeing something tangible and pragmatic happen, and I get to enjoy it all when I go tearing down the mountain on my properly working bike.” Well, it probably wasn’t so linear a thought, but it WAS a thought AND a feeling that I had. I haven’t worked in an office in a long time, but I don’t remember being excited about work in the same way, much less excited about work I wasn’t getting paid to do.<br /><br />In conclusion, I offer more pictures of another “day at the office”. And, what do I need to be happy? I already have it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdBUZhWJuI/AAAAAAAAAAk/epRsU1bSQEQ/s1600-h/Ghostride+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdBUZhWJuI/AAAAAAAAAAk/epRsU1bSQEQ/s320/Ghostride+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338807701974951650" border="0" /></a>Nearly 5,000 meters above sea level. Yes, I'm above the clouds and on top of the world!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdB9C1_VJI/AAAAAAAAAAs/o1f9O3S17TE/s1600-h/Ghostride+1+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdB9C1_VJI/AAAAAAAAAAs/o1f9O3S17TE/s320/Ghostride+1+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338808400262157458" border="0" /></a>The Battle Cruiser, featured in multiple bike magazines and legendary in every way. Mike, a fellow guide, is in the picture, he went back home to Sweden today. Take care my friend!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdEdwapgHI/AAAAAAAAAA8/kBLzoVgRevE/s1600-h/Ghostride+3+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdEdwapgHI/AAAAAAAAAA8/kBLzoVgRevE/s320/Ghostride+3+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338811161274581106" border="0" /></a>In the distance you can see Huayani Potosi, often claimed to be the easiest 6,000 m. peak to climb.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdFi6jF5CI/AAAAAAAAABE/3Q1QvyRd-jU/s1600-h/Ghostride+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdFi6jF5CI/AAAAAAAAABE/3Q1QvyRd-jU/s320/Ghostride+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338812349405324322" border="0" /></a>Steeper than it looks. Three of the four guys on this trip were absolute beginners. Funny and scary to watch people fall so many times.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdGWblnPMI/AAAAAAAAABU/CLvfjtonQJg/s1600-h/Ghostride+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdGWblnPMI/AAAAAAAAABU/CLvfjtonQJg/s320/Ghostride+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338813234447596738" border="0" /></a>I replaced the bushing and pivot bolt in my shock mount recently. The bolt was visibly bent in a slight "U" shape, probably due to urban 5 ft. drops to flat concrete. Two days later... I'm trying to bend the new one.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdHaw2Rs6I/AAAAAAAAABc/YuVQY1S_Sj8/s1600-h/Ghostride+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdHaw2Rs6I/AAAAAAAAABc/YuVQY1S_Sj8/s320/Ghostride+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338814408385737634" border="0" /></a>The castle. It was built in the 30's by Paraguayan prisoners.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdIpciLc4I/AAAAAAAAABk/8j6qOpmUbhk/s1600-h/Ghostride.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdIpciLc4I/AAAAAAAAABk/8j6qOpmUbhk/s320/Ghostride.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338815760142398338" border="0" /></a>It's a pretty good life when part of your job description is drinking a beer and relaxing with your clients.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdJGc8U4mI/AAAAAAAAABs/Zvv1WPnxX7I/s1600-h/Ghostride+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdJGc8U4mI/AAAAAAAAABs/Zvv1WPnxX7I/s320/Ghostride+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338816258468274786" border="0" /></a>The dining room where deep thinking happened.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdJk-r2aAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/D-bLQyFoqGU/s1600-h/Llama.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShdJk-r2aAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/D-bLQyFoqGU/s320/Llama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338816782922049538" border="0" /></a>And last but not least. Llamas. Yup, those are llamas.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821086958240174782.post-60050808691998762192009-05-17T18:52:00.000-04:002009-05-17T18:56:51.742-04:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShCVcLO6PGI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9NIReXx1olY/s1600-h/Postcard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xe_9SS7P7Ac/ShCVcLO6PGI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9NIReXx1olY/s320/Postcard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336929869718240354" border="0" /></a></div> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The infamous "Postcard Corner", the most photographed section on the road. If you've only seen one photo of the road it was probably from this perspective. As you can see there is very little room for error.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402745536405449539noreply@blogger.com1