Saturday, December 31, 2005

Oh Five Oh Six


One of the challenges Katie and I face is my inability to place more importance on one day than another. Halloween and St. Patrick’s Day carry no more or less weight than Christmas or, say. New Years. Tuesday means no more or less than Saturday. There are times when a spark ignites and I can muster some kind of excitement for one of these holidays – like Valentines Day – because I recognize I might end up on a curb if I don’t acknowledge my Love on this day.

New Years eve is one of those events I can see I ought to engage in. Katie and I became a couple around New Years Eve in ’99. It is a time to reflect on the year past and prepare for a new year coming in. Seems like a good time to be introspective and commit to positive change. My problem is I feel introspective most days and think positive change should not wait for a specific day, rather it should begin as soon as one is inspired. Since my years generally revolve around the school year, my new year starts in August. This muttles the power of New Years Eve.

So, on this eve of a new year, what is on my mind? As a husband I know that I should be preparing to spend time with Katie. As a salty bastard I am thinking about staying up past my bedtime for something I don’t feel particularly festive about. I am reflecting on a lot of negatives, like my struggles at work. I think a lot about the kids and why this year has been so challenging to motivate and get the kids to seek a higher level of being. I think about the school’s leadership and why there is no formula for success, an inability to create unity amongst the staff, and what is going to happen to the staff of the snowboard team. And maybe negative is not the proper term – because these are challenges that can be overcome if dealt with using positivity and intellect. But these issues do eat at me.

If I look back at 2005 I see a lot of really nice times. Katie and I started 2005 in Oregon with her family and in-laws. We had an epic winter, perhaps the best I have had as a snowboarder. I survived another school year (I am still waiting for the elusive year when I am going to be sad to see the graduating class go). Spring run-off was huge and Bryan Shea was great at having me along for some epic boating. I did give up a lot of my free time over the summer to get the school’s IT infrastructure rebuilt, but it was a powerful learning experience. I completed my first Century and feel very satisfied that it was all off-road.

Of course the biggest event of ’05 was marriage. Katie and I were blessed with a week full of family and friends, beautiful weather, and a lovely ceremony at the Cement Creek Ranch. Since the end of July Katie and I have been having a fine time saying “my husband” and “my wife” while referring to one another. We have joined my closest friends in the marriage crowd – Ben and Allie, who’s wedding we attended in western MA, Nathan and Jipala, Matt and CC, and Jimmy and Maury – who brought the beautiful Josephine into the world in 2005. I was asked to become Josie’s God Father in 2005. I am filled with pride at being tied to the radiant little girl. Nathan and Jipala gave birth to baby Silas on the 23rd of December. Katie and I are married and my oldest and dearest friends are starting their families. Katie and I are working on starting our own as well.

What do I hope 2006 will bring, and what do I hope to bring to 2006? Well, I am no soothsayer, but I see a hectic travel schedule through March. My commitment to the school will be a dominant factor in the early new year. Katie will continue to work hard – maybe too hard – until the shoulder season (late spring). Gotta make hay while the sun shines. We will spend our evenings together discussing our days and plans for the future. I hope that the coaching staff holds together for the remainder of the season. I have been spending more time thinking about what it would be like to lose Erin (to school) and Christian (to Camp4 or whatever else he chooses to do). Thoughts of going back to Western State to get a Masters of Education have been going through my mind. Having a parachute – as Jeff Barber said – in case things disintegrate at the Academy. So for 2006 I hope to bring a solid presence to the Academy and a personal commitment to furthering my education. I hope 2006 brings absurd amounts of snow to the mountains, health to my friends, family, snowboarders, school, town, and planet, and fertility to my wife and I.

This morning I have a few hours to myself. I am grateful for a little time to reflect. There is a plate full of projects to get through, but it is important to take time for pecking out some ideas. As NPR accompanies me, and snow falls outside I am wondering how the day will unfold. As for the New Year, I still consider it more of a Sunday than a new calander.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Big Chute


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

Katie slaying Big Chute.

Sharing


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

Alice Owens and Spencer Reeves sharing pow on the Headwall. Nice.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Trite


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

Am I getting my message across about the power of place?

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Old Man Winter


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

Waiting patiently for the official begining of his season, Old Man Winter has been spending a lot of time in Crested Butte this year already. I caught him here waiting for a bus ride down to town.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Shaun White McTwist


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

This 19 year-old is so amazing. He just crushed the field at the Grand Prix event in Breckenridge, CO. I feel fortunate every time I get to see him kill it live - and I've been watching him kill it live since he was 13. My friend Kurt Hoy is shooting in front of me in the orange coat.

Danny Kass


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

New Jersey and Mammoth, CA have shaped this dude into such a great part of snowboarding. He rides with power and tech precision, and he is still the quintessential skate-style rider. In the foreground is Zeppelin Zeerip (in black), one of the kids I coach that I brought over for the weekend.

Ross Powers Classic Method


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

He's in his mid twenties and already has two Olympic medals under his belt. He was riding really well and was the only rider in the first two events who wasn't a teenager that made the podium. I like his steez (style) on this method. He is not known for his style, more for amplitude and judging savvy, but clearly he has this classic air on lockdown.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Damn Cold

The local paper said we set an all time cold record last week at -39 degrees F. Sweet. My car wouldn't start for a couple days and my snowboard wouldn't run no matter what wax I used. I t warmed up enough for a storm to come through and drop a foot of fresh, but now it is back to damn cold. Yesterday morning the thermometer read -18 and today it read -20. Where Katie and I live is in a dip in the valley right on the Slate river, so it collects cold air and drives the temps down even lower than in town which is less than two miles away. Lucky us. Our wood stove has been keeping us toasty - for the most part. Some people dream of soft sand beaches, drinks served in pineapples with umbrellas hanging out the top, and tropical sun. As for me, I like it cold. Damn cold.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Clutch


I have had a resurgence of stoke on the band Clutch. I first listened to them in 1993 at the behest of a friend I ended up being in a band with. "A Shogun Named Marcus" was the first song I heard and it left a very memorable imprint in my mind. The band is comprised of a group of friends that graduated high school together in Maryland. Their sound is an eclectic mix of hard rocking, heavy blues, with colorful and illuminating lyrics. The band survived the rap-rock-metal explosion in the late 90's by sticking to their guns - always putting out their own brand of high power stoner rock.

Over the years I have maintained my excitement for Clutch's music through friends and serendipitous encounters with new releases from the band. Long nights of work in the kitchen at the Avalanche, road trips in need of some energy, and at the strangest of times when my music collection seems just too dry, Clutch would come back on the scene. For whatever reason, I have been listening to Clutch on heavy rotation since July/August and collecting more of their music. Through the search for more music, I ended up on their web site, www.pro-rock.com, and saw that they were coming to Denver on the same weekend I would be in Copper for a coaching clinic. Again, serendipitous.

As it happened, the night Clutch played at the Gothic Theatre in Denver, it was also a fairly massive winter storm with near whiteout conditions and slippery highways. I ended up travelling to Copper with Paul Elkins, Kyle Anderson, and Erin Bloom - all ready for a coaching clinic, and unsure of a 60 mmile drive to Denver. About two miles from Copper I accidentally ripped off the wiper blade trying to snap off the ice build up from the heavy snowfall. I rigged it back together and drove further into the storm. We got our accomodations dialed in Center Village and ate dinner. Erin had homework to do and little interest in Clutch. Paul and Kyle were loosing interest after dinner, but I was on a mission. I had failed to secure tickets on-line before they sold out and didn't know if I could get them at the door because no one would answer the phone at the Gothic. It was past 7 and I knew we would miss the opening act. Paul and Kyle started to settle into the couch with the television on.

Ordinarily I am the first to buckle under the pressure of a comfy couch and a good nights' sleep. But this night was different. "I'm going" I announced. Paul, who I have been friends with for 16 years and attended many, many shows with gave me the "I'm in" look. Kyle, a 22 year-old who had never attended a "hard core" show and didn't have any money had to be bribed - I offered to buy his ticket. Game on. Back into the storm. The wiper broke into an unnatural angle a few miles out of Copper, so I had to rig it with a paper clip. No stopping now.

We made Denver in good time. I dropped Kyle and Paul in front of the Gothic and they got in the line for tickets. I parked the car and met up with the boys after they had secured our entry. It had been a long time since I had been to a show that I really wanted to see - maybe two or three years since I saw Social Distortion at the Gothic. Entering into the world of tattoos, piercings, not-so-beautiful people, cigarette smoke, sticky floors, and standing room only, I knew I was where I wanted to be. I bought a round of beers for the boys then made my way to the front of the theatre. Smoke hung in the air as the crowd chain-smoked and tittered in excitement. I breathed it in. Usually I hate second hand smoke and crowded scenes, but a show is made up of these elements and I knew I was right where I wanted to be. The crowd was a mix of older (30 somethings) and rougish younger folk. Scarey looking, but surprisingly polite and stoked.

Enter Clutch: Drummer and singer wraping a tight drum beat and cow bells to start things off. It sounded like "Release the Dub" but I can't be sure. Oh yeah. Dancing begins. I watched a digital clock at the side of the stage and tried to adjust my mental game to rock out hard but reserve enough juice to drive us safely back to Copper. I lost the clock through the haze, stage lighting, and the sonic vibrations as the set took off. Loads of new stuff with a smattering of old. Between songs the band would roll into impromptu heavy jams generally lead by J.P. on drums. Very tight. Then, BAM! Into the next song. I stayed on the side of the pit, but close enough to the action that I was getting knocked around and doing some knocking. The audience sang heartily and danced with vigor. An hour into the show Neil announced that this would be a two-set show. They played a couple more jams, including "Regulator" - one of my most heavily played jams - then took a breather.

Paul and Kyle seemed to be digging the show, but they hadn't jumped into the pit. Neither of them had much exposure to Clutch, but liked what they were hearing. It must have been a bit strange to be surrounded by people singing these criptic lyrics with loads of heart and not knowing any of what they were saying. Shortly into the second set I saw both Kyle and Paul in the swirl of bodies on the floor. I had moved to my favorite spot, centered in the back of the pit. When "Shogun Named Marcus" came on the place went pretty balistic. I remember singing with all I had while surging through the pit with as much energy as I could muster and thinking that there was no other place I could possibly have felt as right and good.

The second set was sweet. The crowd rose and fell with the beats, danced to the rhythms, and sang along with Neil. New songs like "What Would a Wookie Do?" and "10001110101" mixed with the beauty of old jams like "Elephant Riders" and "Tight Like That." Paul was up against the front of the crowd pressed against the security baracade - rocking with the people. It had been too long since I had been in the mix, and I felt raw and thankful. My life is a different sort of entity these days than when Paul, Chris Pierre, and I were always the ones instigating a pit and loving the chaos. Returning to the mash of bodies and courteous violence was a blessing. I don't want to change course and live for that time, but it was a welcomed visit to a place I am glad still exists.

When we left the theatre it was snowing hard. When we finally got on the road it was after 1 am. Kyle fell asleep in the back almost right away. Paul's head dropped to one side shortly after we left the Denver metro area. I drove into the storm, my mind swirling like snow in the headlights.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Nice


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Originally uploaded by Johnny Cakes.

This shot was taken during the '04/'05 winter, but I am hoping we can get back there.

Piling up

During a conversation with a friend of mine last night, he told me of his excitement about going on vacation and putting his feet in the sand and getting worked over by some early-winter swell in Florida. I became almost defensive, and it was a feeling I embraced. As we drove south on highway 135 in a howling snow storm, I knew I was where I was supposed to be. A series of storms have been funneling through the valley stacking up our snow pack. I am giddy with excitement watching the snow eddy around the windows and settle onto the ground in a virginal white shroud. Oh yeah, winter is here and it is everything I dream of.