Author Archive | soiledchamois

Weeks, Days, Birds, & Dead Beers

The Week: Even though I came up well short of my already abbreviated for winter 20-mile lumbering goal, I still managed to have a good week of “doing stuff” by re-embracing the trainer and logging over 26 virtual MyWhoosh miles in addition to the 14 miles of snowshoeing. It’s not ideal, but it’s getting me through the last weeks/months of winter with no ropes taken to attics. Yet.

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Fancies Left Untickled

It was 12˚ when I pulled into the lot for my snowshoe today, which felt like a gahdamn heatwave compared to yesterday’s 3˚. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but it really does make a difference to the seasoned lumberist. How much? Well, if we’re splitting hairs, about 8˚.

Moving on.

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A Sunshine Stomp

After five days inside with my ass alternating between Whooshing on the trainer and relaxing on the couch, I was back in the woods on Tuesday morning for a snowshoe.

The -1˚ morning temps made me less than enthused to return to the woods, but it did warm up to 3˚ by the time my feet were on the trail, so I guess I shouldn’t complain too much.

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The Brain, Am I right?

Late in March 2024, I was enduring a spell of multiple injuries to my back, knee, and both feet due to age, overuse, and an accident while caring for Jake (the dog).

I was really struggling, and lumbering was super painful. So, after much nervousness, anxiety, and bouts of “what the fuck is wrong with my brain?” I stuffed myself into some bike kit, got on board my trainer in the basement, and rode a bike for the first time in 2 years, 4 months, and 26 days. It was pretty OK, and I would do it again a few more times during my recovery.

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A Good Luck Photo Day

After a less-than-desirable breakfast of coffee, “homemade” turkey sausage, egg whites, and a side of ketchup, I was off to the trails for another wintry hike.

I pulled into the lot, got my micro-spikes on, and as I was getting my pack situated, an eagle flew overhead while my camera lay on the seat of the car. I’ve been working on my negative thought process lately, but I couldn’t help but mutter, “Just my luck, why the hell do I always see an eagle when I have no chance of getting a shot??”

And with that “woe is me” attitude, I drug my ass down the main path from the parking lot and into the woodsy trails.

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A Lumber and Chili

I was NOT in the mood to head out into the cold this morning. My bones ached, my joints creaked, my mind craved sleep, and my colon was a fecal-spewing trainwreck. No, I wasn’t sick; 53 just be like that some mornings.

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Not Making It Happen

Last week, I was able to hit my abbreviated winter 20-mile goal in four days, and then I once again proclaimed that the next three days would be spent alternating between time in the basement on the trainer/treadmill and the appropriate amount of recovery slack. One day out of three ain’t bad.

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