

Most of the time, I consider myself to be a reasonable person. But sometimes I fail to connect simple strings of logic that end up resulting in wholly ridiculous situations. For instance: The direct trail up Mount Sentinel is exactly that - direct - and thus extremely steep. Carrying a mountain bike up sustained steep terrain is extremely strenuous compared to not carrying a bike - bikes are awkward, heavy, and press on one's body in the most uncomfortable ways. Therefore, carrying a bike up Mount Sentinel is extremely strenuous. And of course, I should have factored in the knowledge that Beat, being the chivalrous guy he is, probably wasn't going to let me do the work myself no matter how much I begged. But I didn't put any of this together. Instead, I showed up at the trailhead at 9 p.m. and directed him — like my own personal man-slave — up the first known human-powered mountain bike shuttle of Mount Sentinel.

"If you want to break up with me now, I completely understand," I said. He just shook his head and smiled, and we launched off the summit together.

"It's like a difficult math problem," Beat tells me. "For hours you stare at it. When the answer comes to you, it's like, 'a-ha.' You realize you understood all along."
I nod as I dredge the dimly lit cellar of my memory for insight. I haven't given serious consideration to any math problem since 11th-grade calculus. (I used to brag that I tested out of all of my required college courses and managed to get a bachelor of science degree without taking a single math or science class, until I realized that a limited education isn't really something to brag about.) Beat, on the other hand, has a PhD in physics, and a quiet confidence about him that makes it easy to believe that this complicated mash of variables — the established lives, the 1,100-mile distance, the reality of travel — really can be a simple thing to solve. So we agreed to forge a relationship, not because we know what the outcome will be, but because we're excited to explore the intrigue and beauty within our complex equation.

As we approached Pattee Canyon, I realized that I had never guided a night ride up Mount Sentinel before, and actually had no idea how to get there. When Beat and I first started corresponding back in July, he asked me about the characteristics I don't like about myself. Near the top of that list is the way I can be startlingly inattentive to important details, despite having what I consider to be a decent memory. There were a number of dots in the climb that I couldn't quite connect. I guided Beat up a road that I thought was possibly the Crazy Canyon Road. The gravel was loose and steep and I quickly approached the entrance of my pain cave as I attempted to grind up it on my singlespeed. A whole bunch of quiet minutes passed before I looked up, saw the flashing red lights of the University Beacon, and said, "Oh, no, we don't want to go up here."
"Why?" Beat asked. "How much farther is it?"
"Pretty far. The Beacon's about 1,000 feet higher than Sentinel. It's a heinous grind of a climb. And I promise you the descent is way too gnarly for either of us. It's like a loose fall-line direct shot down the mountain. It's seriously unfun." (Note to Beat: Now that you've seen the front side of Sentinel, imagine what descending down that trail would be like. That's what the Beacon is like.)
So we turned around, skidded down the gravel road for the 1,000 feet we didn't need to gain, then veered into the confusing and convoluted network of ski trails in Pattee Canyon. (Note to cross-country skiers: Why the need to create such a tight maze of trails? Do you really enjoy being constantly lost in a few acres of forest, or am I the only one who can't find their way out of cross-country ski mazes?) Anyway, we burned up more than an hour between the Beacon detour and me being lost - and complaining about it. I started to fear that after we actually rode down The Gut in the darkness, Beat really was going to go home and bump up his flight back to San Francisco and never speak to me again. But he was an amazingly good sport, proving to me that not only can I be myself around him, but I can be the worst of myself around him.


On Sunday, we put outdoor passions aside and behaved almost like a normal couple might — going to lunch at an amusingly hip (for Montana) cafe, walking around downtown and commenting on the stuff in the shop windows, sharing ice cream cones at Big Dipper. The Indian summer has gone quite late this year, and the sun was hot and high, enough so that we could walk around outside in T-shirts, in mid-October. Beat, because he lives in California, wasn't nearly as impressed as I was by the weather, but it was a wholly beautiful day, rare in both its timing and perfection. A sunny Sunday afternoon.
Still, the pull of adventure is hard to resist, and by 8 p.m. we had hatched the convoluted Mount Sentinel shuttle. The theory sounded simple - him on foot and me on mountain bike, working in harmony. But the result was much more difficult if predictable - him doing all of the work for none of the fun (he argued that he had much more fun running The Gut than riding it, and while I believe him, I still agree that no one should have to carry a bike up Mount Sentinel for any reason, even as a punishing form of training, ever again.)

But I know that seeking the common derivative in our wildly fluctuating paths will be a beautiful journey in itself, and I look forward to it, complications and all.
I am glad you are finding happiness.
ReplyDeleteHey sister now we have something in common besides just sharing the same DNA...the boys we like both live in the state of California :) So glad to hear you two had an awesome weekend. It's been so good to see you over the last month.
ReplyDeleteregarding your foot issue, look into ART. Hopefully you have a provider near by but that treatment, if it works on your injury, is amazing. It keeps me and many folks I know, running.
ReplyDeleteSchrodinger's Cat.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed the read. Don't let Planter F. get away from you, I've dealt with it several times. Biking is more forgiving then running.
ReplyDeletewow! that's so different adventure. I like to do that too.
ReplyDeleteThat looks like a great trail to me. I'd rather run on square-ish pieces of rock than river-rounded ones any day.
ReplyDeleteNice compositions on the photos.
Oh, I'm so happy for you! Beat sounds great and I'm really glad you've found each other.
ReplyDeleteI'm also cracking up about your being an "avid mountain biker but beginner runner" because didn't you run FIFTY MILES recently? Dude, beginners can't run fifty miles. You're only a beginner in comparison to ultra-marathoners! Don't sell yourself short.
Blodgett Canyon is one of my favorite hikes especially if at 6 miles you turn south and tack on the additional 2 miles to go up to High Lake, also Canyon Lake is just one canyon to the south and is a great hike to a beautiful glacial Cirque.
ReplyDeleteGood luck with the relationship, it sounds like your really enjoying life!
I've had PF and the ONLY way I got rid of it was to completely stop groundpounding. It is hard to get rid of. Email if you want more suggestions. It really sux. But on the bright side, you could take up swimming and later on do an Ironman!
ReplyDeleteYay Jill and Beat!!! <3 You guys are the best. This made me smile :-)
ReplyDeleteJill, great post and stunning pictures! Wow, all that and a new boyfriend too!
ReplyDeleteFor your PF - sit in a chair and cross your sore foot over your other knee, flex the foot and pull on your toes until you flex the foot as far as you can. Hold it for an eternity (like 30 seconds), release and then do it again 10 times. And get and wear a night splint. Futuro makes one that you can get in the drug store and it is nothing like the big hulking boot I used to wear, but it keeps your foot flexed all night.
Good luck with the foot and the guy!
Yeah, dealing with PF isn't fun. I'm still dealing with that this year. It's been keeping me from trail running off and on for most of the year. At least you are able to bike!
ReplyDeleteThe dr. prescribed me an anti-inflammatory and a series of exercises when I had PF. I don't know about the medicine, but the exercises made a drastic, and near-immediate, difference.
ReplyDeletealso on the PF front. how old are your shoes for running? how many miles do they have in them? if more than 300 (you can figure out a different mileage limit for each shoe), go to the local sweet running store and get fitted for new road/trail shoes... whatever you prefer. new shoes + the stretching advice/icing/self massage above = the ticket out of the PF cycle.
ReplyDeletekristin z, PT
Plantar fasciitis - get yourself custom orthotics, they will provide instant relief. I suffered from PF twice: the first time I essentially stopped runnning for 6-8 months, the second time I got myself custom orthotics and went back to running within a week and have never suffered from PF since.
ReplyDeleteJill, don't worry about Beat. I'll let you in on a little secret about him. Flying to Montana at the beck and call of some adventurous lass in order to be her personal mountain-bike-toting man slave has actually been an unfulfilled dream of his for quite some time.
ReplyDeleteMy only other comment is really more of a personal request. Next time you include him in your blog, can you hand him the camera once in a while. All the shots of his backside running up hill: I see it enough when I run with him ;-)
Hooray!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Julie - this post makes me say hooray!
ReplyDelete