Training Log Archive: Swampfox

Before heading out to ski, I thought that since Bubo was so nice to share a picture of a winter pansy living in his driveway, I would share a picture of a marigold in my driveway. It is a variety selectively bred to be winter hardy as far north as Fairbanks, Alaska:

From publiken

It was doing well until about 2 weeks ago, but as you can see, even this extra hardy marigold could not withstand the bitter winds that sweep the Laramie valley at this time of year. Few things can.

Meanwhile, up top, skiing conditions were quite nice, a little new snow, sun, and temps in the high teens by mid-afternoon, falling to single digits (it felt) by dusk. No wind, and the car in the parking lot with Florida plates must have been disappointed about that.

The view from parking, looking north:

From publiken

The tracks stretching across the photo mark a popular migration route for local moose, as they leave the willow lowlands (all things are relative here) for the higher ridges you can see in the background. I know, I know--most grazing type animals leave high summer mountain meadows to seek more protected, lower wintering grounds. But moose are different. The colder the better, and for them that means they head higher when winter comes. And they don't even care about the parking lot--they just walk right through it, like anyone else might walk through a Starbucks or something.

C • Impressed... 2

As I was headed up the canyon to Happy Jack, I realized I really should have brought my camera with me so I could thank Bubo for the nice picture of a Dala pansy in winter ("Pansy Without Snow") with a picture in return. Because up top it was an incredible scene of winter wonderland: all the trees and the fences and everything that stood up above the ground was covered *inches* deep in rime ice and snow, and glistening beautifully in the brilliant early afternoon sun. Oh, well.

While I was getting my boots on, I scanned the parking lot as carefully as I could, and--uh-oh--spotted one possible X8A7 vehicle. I thought I almost make out a Colorado plate, and also thought I could just about see that there was a Subaru insignia, but I couldn't be 100% sure--the angling and distance were such that I couldn't quite get that last little bit of certainty. Nevertheless, I was on high alert. You really can't be too careful. I briefly considered setting out Ledorean Snares at several strategic locations out on the trails, but after doing some rough calculations, I determined I would need some rated at 140.8 km/hr for 75 kg of mass, and I didn't have anything remotely close to that when I searched the back of my truck.

In the end, I never did see any sign of X8A7, and maybe it wasn't his car after all.

The conditions were great, and wonderfully perfect for whatever last season wax was still clinging to my ski bottoms. I skied for--wait, this is just a note, so I don't have to put down a time! But anyway I skied for a longer while, and then I did some snow trail running for a short while, which had to be cut a bit short in order to make it back in time for a Cowboy basketball game against Montana State.

It was a good game, with the Cowboys pulling away at the end after a pretty tough time of it in the early going. The 82 points they scored was something of a numerical fluke, because when they played Montana State 6 days ago, they also scored 82 points, but lost that game by 1.

Unfortunately, earlier in the day the Wyoming football team blew whatever very slight chance they had at the Bottom 25 crown, and won their last game of the season. I really had the impression they weren't really even trying to lose. They only turned the ball over once, and declined numerous opportunities to commit big penalties when UNLV had the ball and was driving late in the game, with UNLV needing just one score to tie (or possibly go ahead.) What the coaching staff should do is take a few days during the off season and go visit Kansas to pick up some valuable ideas about how to build a losing program that can stand the test of time. It's a lot harder than it looks to finish last (and I have some credentials here, being a member of an extremely select group--with the membership requirement that you be the last official finisher at Oringen for a given year (1978 was my year of glory)).

C • Wait... 2

Yesterday skiing up top was a bit chill(y) and today was chill(ier) yet--8F back at home, and without doubt a couple of degrees colder up top at the ever beckoning and balmy Tie City parking lot. There is a local legend among pagan Laramites that Tie City is the place where Alaskan wolves will trek to when climate change makes it too warm in Alaska.

It probably wouldn't have felt so cold except that a) it's still early in the season and I am not yet properly seasoned for this early dose of winter chill, and b) there was some mean breeze out of the east, and getting started by heading straight into the teeth of the wind beast isn't an optimal warming up scenario. I suppose I should also acknowledge c), that I can be pretty wimpy when it comes to cold, so what I really need to do is to (taking a cue from the latest trend in oratorical flourishes by candidates in the Republican presidential race) simply toughen the fuck up. I feel warmer all over already.

All that said, the skiing conditions quite nice, especially for November, once you got used to having no feeling in your toes, nose, ears, and hands. No snow snakes, and just a few places with newly wind felled beetle trees.

C • No feeling in your toes, nose, ears, and hands 5

Went skiing at Happy Jack in very foggy conditions. Driving both up and back was not easy due to the fog freezing on my windshield, and I assume what was happening to me was happening to all the other drivers, too, so some nervous driving.

The trails had been pretty well carpet bombed by moose tracks.

I went up top to ski and run, except that halfway up the canyon it dawned on me that I had a lot of stuff with me, but I sure didn't have my ski boots. So the rest of the way up I was just going up top to run.

Which actually worked out pretty well. Within about 15 minutes of starting out, and running along a snowshoe trail through a mix of pine and fir forest, I saw something black in the snow up ahead. It looked like it could be a particularly dark stump. As I got closer, it began to look more and more like a large jacket stretched across something, maybe some branches, almost looking as if it had been arranged like a shelter. As I got *really* close, like 20' away, I stopped, looked more carefully, and recognized finally what it really was: a bull moose, more or less curled up. It wasn't moving. Was it dead? I whistled at it, doing my best go at "Spoonful". I'm not a good whistler to begin with, and even for me this was a pretty bad effort.

That did the trick: the moose awoke, and craned its head around until it saw me. Then it stood up, which took a long time because it was a very mighty big bull moose. And only 20' away! But it didn't seem all that disturbed otherwise and it just stood there, looking at me. I looked back. Then I started taking some steps away, and then I continued running.

That was neat. But it got even better, because on the way back, I saw two more big bull moose.

In all, I saw 3 moose and only 2 snow bikers, which is an exceptional moose-to-snow biker ratio by any standard.

The new Bottom 25 rankings are out, and things are not looking good for Wyoming. With a bye last week, they remain ensnared in 5th place. Two of the teams ahead of them have winnable games (meaning they have at least a 5% chance of winning--remember, these aren't very good teams!), but the other two have almost no chance to win. Plus, Wyoming itself is looking at a winnable game against UNLV.

With the season so close to being over, it's impossible to think of what might have been. If only Wyoming had run out the clock and headed for the lcoker room when they got the ball very late in the first half against a superior Nevada team. Instead, they scored, and that play right there will probably go down as the play that cost them any realistic shot at the Bottom 25 title.

What if! If only! But you know the old saying: if unicorns were lima beans, then nobody in Silicon Valley would go hungry, something that is extra apropo as we approach the day of traditional turkey dishes.

I went for a quick ski to take advantage of mild, very pleasant and sunny conditions, following that up with the real advantaging--which was an O' run at Remarkable Flats. It was the first day in several that the Happy Jack highway was at last enough de-iced so that it wasn't life threatening to drive along.

While I was skiing and approaching the far end of the trail net, I spotted 2 unfamiliar, kinda stick figures but not really totally stickish figures up ahead. They were standing at what would probably be *the* optimum spot to stand if you were an ISIS operative. After determining they had no automatic weaponry on them or any grenades--though I could not rule out the possibility of suicide belts--I skied up to them and requested their identification. Which they handed over.

I examined the identification carefully, noting the shoddy construction paper they were made of, the extensive use of crayons, and pictures of santa claus and a bunny rabbit, which in no way resembled the people in front of me.

I passed their papers back to them, while informing them that: "These are the worst credentials I have ever seen in my life." They wouldn't have passed muster in Casablanca.

Anyway, they turned out to be ex-runners on the UW XC team (or so they claimed), and now enrolled in graduate programs at the university. Before meeting them, I literally hadn't seen any runners out on the trails during winter in years; I think almost anyone who might have once been running on snow trails rather than skiing is now snow biking instead.

Remarkably Flats was remarkably fine as usual, and I have to admit it was nice that the winds were down to levels that would be considered a merely normal breeze even in more civilized areas of the world. Plus the sun!

The best thing, though, was what I saw on the way home, after sunset: a large meteor fell through the sky from behind me, traveling in the same direction I was headed, and moving relatively slowly and seemingly pretty low in the atmosphere compared to the typical meteor. The glow it was producing was quite bright, and somewhat pulsating. To judge by it's altitude before it passed out of sight behind a ridge, it wouldn't surprise me if it reached ground.

C • Meteor reporting page... 1