Scars

When I started this blog I chose the name Bacon Betty as a way to make fun of my less-than-graceful nature on my mountain bike and snowboard. It’s true that I’ve collected a lot of bacon in my pursuit of adrenaline rushes…

The same knee, taking repeated abuse.

Now that I’m a little more seasoned, I’m not coming home as bloody (bruised, yes) as I once did. What remains, though, are scars.

I LOVE SCARS.

My husband has a pretty serious one on the right side of his head. Like, 3 1/2″-long-with-a-chunk-of-skull-missing kind of serious. It came from a rock throwing battle when he was six, and he was on the losing end of a piece of cinderblock. To this day, he still can’t figure out how the other kid had such good aim from 50 yards away. He made his way home with a t-shirt pressed to his head and rang the doorbell instead of going in and dripping on the carpet. A conscientious trait that was evident in him, even as a kid.

SCARS TELL STORIES.

Like the three I have on my brow bones. All collected before I was seven years old, they each have their own Bacon Betty story. #1 came from a tumble into a cast iron pot at a farmer’s market – blood everywhere and my parents being their non-freakout selves, assured the owners that I’d be fine. #2 is courtesy of a face plant down some steel-edged stairs. When my mom sat me on her lap and asked my dad if we should go get stitches, his reply was, “Nah. She’ll probably cover it up with eyeshadow when she’s older.” #3 was the only one that actually received medical attention, and happened in it’s own comical way. Who would guess you could fall off the toilet while reaching for some paper? My only advice: Beware of ceramic t.p. holders. I took those stitches without any anesthesia, by the way.

Those, surprisingly, are the extent of my facial scars. Since then, I’ve gathered countless others over my knees, ankles and hands, thanks to mountain biking and rock climbing.

It’s pretty unladylike when you’re rocking a sundress and your knees are peppered with deep red scars from repeatedly skinning the same spots. Couple those with the chain ring marks and line of bruises I often have up my calves, and you can imagine the questions I get. The looks on my girlfriends’ faces span from pity to disgust. My guy friends simply say, “Try to stay ON the bike.”

When I’m getting dressed or shaving my legs and notice a scar is still bright and commanding attention, I remember how I came by it. Reliving for a moment that time I charged ahead, only to lose grip on a sandy spot, smack my head on the ground and bust my knee on a rock, regaining composure as the other chicks rounded the bend behind me… Flying down a fire road, chasing my husband and my foot coming unclipped, pedal eating the inside of my ankle, and cracking up at my near disaster of launching into a dry creek bed…

SCARS ARE EVERYWHERE.

(AP Photo/Chris Carlson)

They symbolize scary and sad things to most people, but to me symbolize strength and character and adventure. When I think of my eyebrow scars now, they represent the philosophy my dad instilled in me regarding injury (and a great philosophy for life in general, actually) – shake it off. If it’s not broken, it’s nothing to worry about.

Carry on having fun.

Two Voices

“Two voices are there: one is of the sea, one of the mountains; each a mighty voice.”
– W. Wordsworth

Bacon Betty Rides Again

I feel like I’ve written that title before…

Maybe I have, but that’s how it feels every spring when I get the Genesister back out after a lonely winter in the garage. We’ve had so much rain and flooding this year that it’s taken me way too long to start my season.

I set out this morning with Natty Light and our pal Tabitha to kick off the summer with some singletrack, rock gardens and tons of mud.

For the first time ever, it felt so natural to be clipping in to my pedals and heading off into the woods. You see, I’m usually a little nervous and cautious on my first ride of the year, thinking silly thoughts I don’t need to mention here. I think today was different because I was leading the ride and feeling responsible for two less experienced riders who are unfamiliar with our trails.

I’m crediting this feeling with an experience I just had in Florida that changed my outlook on leadership.

When it comes to mountain biking and snowboarding, my husband is usually the one who leads, taking chances on new tricks and encouraging me to do the same. I watch and follow him because it makes me feel secure to see someone else do something that I can’t visualize or that makes me uncomfortable.

But, when it comes to any water sports, I’m the part of our duo that takes charge. Chris is generally, shall we say, not at home, on the water. It physically pains me that he doesn’t like the beach or boating as much as I do because salt water and a little bay muck course through my veins. So while we were visiting my Dad on the Gulf side of Florida the other week, you know I wanted to get Chris out on the water.

I couldn’t wait to take him on a paddle out to Shell Key and the private beach there, knowing that he would enjoy the adventure of it.

I said I was very comfortable being on the water… What I’m not familiar with is getting TO the water with all of the gear. The way I grew up didn’t require anything more than walking out the back door with your paddle or cooler and shoving off the dock. So when my dad entrusted ME (and Chris’ muscle) to get two kayaks securely on top of his SUV, drive across a very long suspension bridge to our drop-in spot 30 minutes away, get them off the truck without damaging anything, and do it all in reverse, I was very anxious. But having lunch in this spot was enough to assuage my fears in setting off:

I very nearly wussed out of getting to that spot, partly because I could tell Chris was a bit wigged over the fact that I’d never been responsible for the technical details. A few things dawned on me as we were about to load up the last bits of gear for the day. 1) I couldn’t show that I was a bit weirded out because then Chris wouldn’t have confidence in me (or himself). 2) I recognized that I had to push past feeling uncomfortable if I wanted to get the most out of my day and grow my inner strength. And 3) the reason I believed everything would turn out great (read: no smashed kayaks laying on the highway or busted truck windows) was because my dad had complete faith in sending me on my novice way.

The moral of my story is this: when you believe that those around you trust in your ability to be successful, anxiousness falls away and you ARE successful.

Thinking of my ride today, I remember something my friend Chris M. says – “It’s not a successful mountain biking day unless you draw blood.” Check.

I’d Rather

Wear jeans.
Ride shotgun in a pick-up.
Eat food cooked on a camp stove.
Have Dunkin’ Donuts instead of Starbucks.
Rip through the woods.
Drink a can of PBR.
Dig my own dirt.
Wrench on my bike.
Be called a hick over a hipster.
Shower later.
Play first.
Appreciate the haves.
Live in the present.

What is mountain biking?

Awesome video posted on the Sacred Rides site:

Bits of Winter – Part 2

Many a snowy hike were had this winter, all without snowshoes (although, I wish I had a pair). I actually perfected the art of not slipping through the snow crust by the aid of my trusty Keen boots.

You see, they are so wide that they actually distribute my weight across a wider platform, preventing me from sinking through – so long as I’m making my own tracks (that goes without saying, if you know me). I play a game with myself to see how long I can go without stepping in someone else’s footprint. Hey, when you hike as much as I do, your mind begins to wander.

Aside from enjoying the glimmering snow among dormant deciduous trees, snapping way too many photos of my dog romping through the winter wonderland,

and dreaming of riding the trails under the white blanket, my winter hikes allowed me to scout out some hidden climbing spots for the coming season. What I found:

• A perfect bouldering area buried 2 miles in, with a luxurious carpet of puffy moss at its base.
• A short, but technically challenging top roping wall that could have about 4-5 nice routes. Some bushwacking required.
• Another wall of quartzite that looks fun to climb, but seems to have a sketchy base area.

All that dreaming of climbing got me back into the rock gym after a several-month hiatus. My regular climbing partner has had some scheduling issues, so I was so happy to have a couple of sessions bouldering with Aleya of Rock and Sky. We had a great time at Earth Treks, with me learning tons just observing Aleya and others climbing much harder routes than me. I enjoy climbing with new people, and got over my anxiety of venturing into the bouldering cave instead of hanging out in my usual top rope area. I haven’t gotten any of these while hanging from a rope:

Sucky photo (it’s hard to take a pic of your right hand when you’re right-handed), but it was a pretty nasty flapper. Although, I’d willingly suffer more of these to have a climbing gym closer to my house. I despise the 50+ minute 0ne-way trip to the gym.

In all, this winter was awesome – filled with all the things I love to do to stay off the couch when it’s cold: snowboarding, hiking, traveling, hanging out with friends new and old.

From Whence We Came

“All of us have in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea — whether it is to sail or to watch it — we are going back from whence we came.” – John F. Kennedy, 1962

I copied this quote directly from one of my new favorite blogs to read, Cold Splinters. I’ve never heard this Kennedy quote before, but almost the same words have spilled from my mouth many times.

Man, am I ready for summer.

Bits of Winter – Part 1

The robins came back last weekend. We also set our clocks ahead and the ski hill had its last hurrah. I wore my capri hiking pants and went for a cruiser ride. I would say Spring is about to make an appearance.

I’ve been on a journey of awareness lately, and so began to reflect on the bits of winter 10/11 worth remembering. Here’s part 1.

I started doing some new circuit workouts in the fall in preparation for the snowboarding season. It was a little experiment. At that point I didn’t know that I would also become the proud owner of a new board. I deserved one after 7 seasons on the old one, no? I definitely noticed a difference in the time it took me to get my legs back. Jump squats galore and stationary cycling kept me from getting jell-o legs for my first few days on the slopes. That was a plus. The negative? Thicker adductor muscles…which means tighter jeans. Whatever. A means to an end, right? Gretchen Bleiler and Hannah Teter are doin’ alright in their typical snowboarder bods.

I’m sure the new board and overall great conditions for the season had something to do with my performance. And, I should give my skills a little more credit, too. I’m not a freestyle rider, though. I tend to stay out of the park, only going in to pop over some kickers here and there. I’d rather coast down a hill, absorbed in my thoughts, carving deep turns. The most style I gave this winter was ollie-ing before stopping at the base and getting back on the lift.

Riding “eastern powder” and glade runs in WV was my overall highlight for the season. I scorpioned halfway through a run between some trees, and came up belly laughing like a kid, my husband shaking his head at me.

I’m keeping that in mind for next season as a reminder that pushing myself past my comfort zone can be fun and exhilarating. Until then, squats are off the menu.

Gear Review: Bacon Betty on Camp the Summit

Patrick at Camp the Summit asked me to write up a review of our beloved GSI JavaPress. No sense repeating anything – go to their site and read the review!

Blackjack (or 21 Days)

I’m writing this on March 1st, as we begin to close out a winter where we haven’t had any “blizzards.” Well, not yet anyway. Blizzard is a strange term ’round here – it mostly refers to the conditions we experience (fast accumulation, wind and drifting) more so than the amount of snow we get. Last year we had two back-to-back storms that brought us about four feet within a week’s time, offering us the experience of riding East Coast powder. (After we feverishly dug out of a waist-high drift covering our front door so we could make it to the ski hill.)

That being said, I’ve gotten more days on snow this year than possibly any other of my 8 years on a snowboard. Granted, we live within 15 minutes of the closest hill, but we lined ourselves up for success this year.

The first (and best) decision I made was to not work at the ski resort. For two seasons previous to this one, I took a part-time job at the resort so the Mr. and I could ride for free. Problem was that 2-3 shifts a week there actually made me kind of sick of the place. This year, instead of waking up before the sun on Saturday mornings to stand behind a counter, I was waking up before the sun to make first tracks (and to beat all of the non-locals to the lifts).

Secondly, I bit the bullet and bought us season passes. Good on three mountains. Discounts on 20 others. Enough said.

I also planned ahead and got us a four-day stay at our favorite cabin getaway in West Virginia. Because it’s in a snow bowl, Canaan Valley gets more than 180″ of natural snow each year, and this year is no different at over 200″ so far. We had a blast riding glades and ungroomed trails for two solid days. Kick. Ass.

Last, but not least – I got a new board this year. After riding my Gnu Carbon Select for only 7 seasons, I retired it (to hang on the wall in my office) and got a 2011 Burton Feelgood. I must say, I never imagined that replacing my board would make such a difference. For our conditions in the East it can’t be beat for a freeride board.

So there you have it. I can honestly say that if my season ends tomorrow, I’d be perfectly happy with how it played out. Not that I’m ready…