NEXT!

What started as a bookmark folder on my internet browser, has become a mantra of my lifestyle.  Over the past 10 years, dozens, of what start, as ideas for potential places to live, get a subfolder, and house links, I come across, either by chance or while specifically looking for the next spot. When one of these potentials slides into manifested reality, the subfolder of that place, moves from “NEXT!” folder to the “And Now” folder. Some subfolders sit there for years, before they become an “And Now”, while others have little time between the hatching of the idea and finding myself in that actual location.

At this point, it is hard to say, if my organizational process mirrors my thought process or vice versa.  When it gets to be that time, I get a visual of “NEXT!” in my head.  I use it in conversation, although the other person does not know, that when I say "next", I mean "NEXT!", more than just a word, but a way of life.    

Because I move so often, usually migrating along with the change of seasons, if not, more frequently, maintaining this lifestyle, and continuously trying to figure out the NEXT!, could become a full-time job.  I have certainly met people, for which this seems to be the case.  For me, it seems to defeat the purpose of this path, I have carved out. If I am always thinking about what is NEXT!, I am not fully engaged in the And Now. I strive for the balance between eagerly anticipating what is coming next and being fully present and, hopefully, thrilled, about the And Now, I currently find myself in.  This is the sweet spot. I have found a direct correlation between what I am feeling now and what comes next. If my now is good, what is coming next will be good. If I am loathing my current situation, it is difficult to not bring some of that into the NEXT!.  So, as all the wise ones claim, all the power is in the now, but the excitement of this lifestyle is getting stoked for what is NEXT!.

My current, And Now, has been a subfolder, hiding in NEXT!, for seven or eight years.  This seems to be the pattern of many of my And Nows.  They are an exciting thought, when I first learn of these locations. They become long forgotten, hiding in the vast NEXT!s, then without much effort or warning become my current reality.  Often, I find myself in a long awaited NEXT!, when I was loosely planning on something else, for that particular season.This is precisely what happened with Switzerland last summer.  Five years as a NEXT! and then one day, I found myself there, without even trying or planning.  This proves to me that events will coordinate themselves better than I can orchestrate, and it is only my job to launch the idea, then sit back and let it unfold.  I have also learned there is, not only no harm, but part of the process, to launch an idea, although it might be years, before it fully plays out.  Other people seem to be critical of this process.  They tell me, that I said I was going to do, so and so, years ago, and never did.  Their shortsightedness is sad and limiting.  It is never done.  All those NEXT!s are lined up, waiting to pop into my reality at the perfect moment.  Attempting to force a particular NEXT! into place is a waste of energy and counterproductive.

Currently, I find myself in June Lake, California, finishing out the ski season, as a lift operator at June Mountain.  So, the Eastern Sierra subfolder, that so patiently sat in NEXT!, for nearly a decade, as moved into the And Now.  When I leave here, it will return to NEXT!, for it is never done.  This is likely to be the first of many stints, in this awesome stretch of earth.  In addition, a few new NEXT! subfolders have been created while here, as I receive ideas from fellow seasonal workers, about their past and future NEXT!s and And Nows.  The cycle continues….

Go-Mode

The absence of articles in the last four months is a result of the extreme fun I have been preoccupied with.  Now that I'm settled in for the winter, I can finally take a second to reflect and break it down.

After a very chill and isolated, yet extremely pleasant summer in the high country of Colorado, I made my way out to the Tahoe area to work at the fall edition of the Stanford Sierra Conference Center…again.  Aside from the excellent working conditions I mentioned in an article after my last stint there, the place, is a perfect opportunity to elongate summer in high country.

While, I find the high Rockies quite suiting for most of my intents and purposes, it really only boasts two usable seasons:  winter and summer.  Fall, at two miles high, is non-existent.  Sure, the aspens turn gold and then loose their leaves, but that process usually takes about four days and can happen in early September.  The Sierras, on the other hand, offers it’s consistent and predictable dry summer conditions well into October.  I took full advantage. 

End of "very chill and isolated, yet extremely pleasant" time.  

For a change of scenery, I headed to the Tahoe area three weeks prior to beginning work.  For the first time in five years, I returned to and spent most of that time at one of my favorite campgrounds not far from Truckee.  Three, blissful weeks were filled with reacquainting myself with the trails, where I originally started mountain running and biking, and finding new spots to park the van and access the goods. 

Fully-charged, I made my way to the south end of the big blue lake and then to the south end of the little blue lake, where I spent the next two months in full-on, non-stop, go-mode. 

Maybe it is the shortness of the season, the endless opportunities for mountain recreation, the perfect weather and/or the abundance of like-minded co-workers, but for me, camp, is not conducive to sleep.  While I have recognized that I no longer suffer from FOMO (fear of missing out) tendencies, still 4-5 hours of sleep a night was usually all I could fit in.  This despite the fact or maybe because of the fact, that I am a non-participatory member of the party scene out there.

 

Last and coldest swim of the season.

This fall marked my third season at this special place and my experiences improve each crack at it.  Possibly from my lack of full-time employment in the last year, but I found my shifts to be legitimately fun.  I could hardly detect a difference in my attitude on or off the clock.  Very special relationships were developed.  Some of which were with bad ass partners, with whom, I would swim (in the lake), mountain bike, or climb the chute (a magical crack in the earth, serving as a natural staircase up the mountain that looms over camp) at any available opportunity.  The short time frame and the large group of co-workers equates to the fact that I was really just getting to know people up until the final moments. 

The Chute...a full-body endeavor.

 The short season came to an abrupt end, but the fun did not stop when the conference season did.  For the second year in a row, I joined a group of co-workers on a pilgrimage to Big Sur when we finished.  Just as the Sierras were getting pounded with snow, we escaped to mild weather for a week of camping on the rugged central coast of California.  This was incredibly chill, finally allowing  me to catch up on sleep and cook for myself, which was valuable in getting ready for what is next.  The spectacular sunsets served as the main source of entertainment and photo opportunities each day. 

Big Sur-ness

I left Big Sur, new favorite person in tow, and made my way through Arizona and New Mexico (a small taste of areas I have yet to explore) to Denver, where I spent Thanksgiving with my fantastically-fun extended family.  After a week in Denver, I headed up to Crested Butte, Colorado, where I am employed for the winter.  I spent a week here in my van deciding where to live and managed to move into a place in Gunnison (30 miles south of Crested Butte and connected by a free bus) the day before my job started and sub-zero temperatures and snow arrived.  Last week, I squeezed in a few sweet runs and rides in an awesome network of trails, just outside of Gunnison, pre-snow.  As of today, I’ve had two days of orientation for my position as a lift operator and have taken a few mellow runs on my snowboard. 

As it continues to dump outside, I am taking advantage of my day off to relax, before I resume the full-on, non-stop, go-mode, that I have a feeling I am going to be sustaining for a long time to come. 

Weather Snob

“I feel like I’m cheating at life,” my friend, Ben said to me, as we were about to drop into a steep untracked bowl at A-Basin after a short hike from the top of the lift.  I nearly keeled over in hysterical laughter.  I knew what he meant.  We were standing on the top of ridge, snowy peaks in all directions, hours into an afternoon of snowboarding in surprisingly excellent conditions.  That day we left the dry and dusty Western Slope, where we had been running and biking on luscious, desert trails for three weeks and now we were on top of the world with fresh snow.  It was fairly ridiculous, but cheating at life???  

Since there are no rules, I would disagree that one could cheat at life, but we might be cheating the seasons.  After six years of high country dwelling, this year I was ready and able to snub mud season.  Colorado's diverse landscapes make it easy, once I learned the weather patterns for different regions.  In a very short drive one can go from blizzardy paradise to sunny and 70°.  Having everything I own with me and fully supplied with gas, food and water at all times, allows me to find an awesome spot and then just stay there and take it for all it is worth until I’m over it or run out of something essential (like water or coffee).

Big Papa joins Camp Fancy-Free

This trip was especially luxurious as two friends, that I worked with this winter, joined me in their brand-new-to-them camper.  A kitchen and living room took the lifestyle to a new level of ridiculousness.  One month ago, we met up in Boulder, waited out a storm for a few days, ran on some trails, then caravanned to Moab. 

“What trails did you ride in Moab?” a hitch-hiker asked, while giving him a short ride.  “Uh, like, all of them,” Ben responded.   We spent about two weeks in the Moab area  and covered a lot of ground.  We slept mostly at trailheads and  would get up run or ride on a new trail, take a break, and then find another one.  Some were way beyond my biking capabilities,  so I would hide my bike behind a rock and then run the rest of it.  It was so fun.  Moab is giant playground.  Of course, we didn’t really ride all the trails, (there seems to be an endless supply) but we got around. 

Moab's Slickrock Trail

While in Moab, I ran a 9-mile race.  I had done the same race last year, when passing through on my way from Denver to South Lake Tahoe (where I spent last mud season).  While doing the same race course usually does not appeal to me, this one was especially fun, so I was excited to do it again and could not pass up the opportunity to do a race when I was there anyways.  The course was so fun (complete with a waist-high creek crossing and super-steep muddy ladder to the finish) that after an hour break Ben and I rode the same course on our bikes.  Running it was way easier for me. 

Tearing ourselves away from Moab was not easy but I was pumped for another race the following weekend in Fruita, Colorado.  Not knowing what to expect from Fruita, I made the couple hour drive eastward two days before the race.  Upon arriving, I instantly was overjoyed by the beauty.  While still deserty, it was a whole other kind of beautiful than Moab.  Less red rock and more green.  Very green with little purple and red flowers popping up before my eyes.  My excitement for the race and Fruita increased ten-fold and I had to hold back from the trails as I wanted to take it easy before the race. 

Finish line of a breathtaking course.

A couple days later I ran a 25-mile race on a spectacular loop.  The course climbed up and down the green, flower-covered hills, teetered on the edge a steep canyon walls, and towered above the Colorado River.  I was happy with my slow, sustained effort and just overjoyed to be running that far on dry trails this time of year.  After the race, I met back up with my cohorts and we found a trailhead to sleep at in preparation for the next days’ adventures. 

My recovery day from the race included a 12-15 mile (?) super-technical hike/run through two canyons that led to second highest concentration of arches outside of Arches National Park.  It was magnificent and exhausting.  We rested the remainder of the day, resupplied the following day, and headed to the North Fruita Desert area. 

The map showed a lot to trails in the area, but I had no idea, we were entering another paradise.  This area is another mountain biking playground, complete with a free campground and well-marked trails…everywhere.  The first trail I rode down, was the most fun trail I have ever rode on.  We stayed there until we ran out of water five days later. 

With no plans except for another race in a couple of weeks, we spent another night near Fruita trying to decide our next move.  Stay in this paradise or head to the high country paradise where it was dumping snow.  When it started raining we decided to head for the hills.  The rain made us realize how lucky we had been with the weather for three weeks.  Virtually perfect.  Warm and mostly overcast the whole time.  When the clouds would go away I realized it would be too hot without them.

After taking advantage of National Parks Week with a free rainy drive through Colorado National Monument, we passed another awesome looking network or trails, making plans for next time.  We spent the rainy afternoon in Grand Junction and then traveled eastward on I-70, stopping to sleep at very scenic rest area.  Sun the next morning was a pleasant surprise and we quickly made it into the high country and got in a few hours of incredible snowboarding before it started snowing again. 

Back in the hills, where we can do something with the precipitation.

We stayed up there, sleeping at spot 5-7 miles away from A-Basin, for a couple days as it continued to dump snow.  Then headed down to Denver via a stop at the dry trails of Matthew Winters Park for a run around the loop.  I’ve now been in Denver for a few days, relaxing and enjoying the greenness that has overtaken the city since I left it a month ago. 

Weather is just another thing to be snobby about.  While I can enjoy whatever conditions I find myself in, I thoroughly enjoy the freedom to mix and match.  I turn my nose up at mud, blazing heat, and above all, humidity.  Why sit around waiting for the rain to stop, when only a short drive away the rain is rideable snow and vice versa?  Weather can be added to the all-encompassing list of things that I am a snob about.