4th of July Weekend in Montana

This holiday weekend, Cathy and I are headed to Montana. We'll be staying with our friends Kimberly and John, the latter of whom has a cabin outside of Livingston. Livingston is a small town on the edge of the Absaroka range, on the northern border of Yellowstone NP.

We're excited for many reasons.

Obviously, it's beautiful there. They're situated right on the Yellowstone River, and both are avid fly fishermen. Fisherpersons. So this weekend I get to learn to flyfish in one of the most beautiful flyfishing settings this country affords.

Lucky as hell.

We'll also do some floating and paddling of the river in raft and ducky. The dogs get to come along, so we'll see if they're river worthy or not. (Likely not.)

La Copa

Also, as the quarterfinals and semifinals of the World Cup take place while we're en route, we've planned well. We'll get to follow the Germany/Argentina in the morning, and we're not sure if we'll stay here in town long enough to catch Italy/Ukraine. Probably. We've got a 9+ hour drive ahead of us, but we've decided to stop for Friday night in Bozeman. That way, we can catch England/Portugal in the morning on hotel ESPN before we take off for the final leg into Livingston. There's a small chance we can coerce our hosts into town for that afternoon's Brazil/France matchup, but that remains to be seen. So, we'll get there a little late, but it'll be worth it.

Done and Gone

We out.

There's lots of chatter and criticism about the US performance in the World Cup, some of it justified, some of it not. Everyone's an expert, as a quick perusal of the 'Fan Chat' function of the FIFA website will tell you. But, as ever, the chatter don't mean squat.

At times, the US side played well. At times, dismally. At the bottom of it all, we had a solid team, a mostly solid coach, and a pretty questionable strategy. In the end, it was this overall solidity, or adequateness, if you like, that did it. Solid is good, but without something extra tacked on (see MJ and any Bulls team he played on, or the Ghana side in their match against the Czechs in this tournament), solid doesn't get you far against the best in the world.

The team that wins La Copa will not only have this solidity, they will have greatness as well. The US lacks greatness, so it makes sense that we are going home when we are.

Really, the unfortunate thing for my own experience of this World Cup is the change in the way Ghana played. They seem to have adapted to the Euro tactics all too well, as evidenced by the number of casualties littering the pitch at any point in the second half yesterday. Dudes were flopping so often and for so long that I'd bet even the Italian squad would have been a bit perturbed at it. You'd have thought the US were playing with brass knuckles and spikey shoes. It was ridiculous, and an aspect of this team that hadn't yet reared its ugly head.

At the start of the match, I had it in my head that if we lost, Ghana would be my team, the one I'd hope to cheer through the championship. So much for that.

Though the US-Ghana match leaves many question marks, as the penalty Ghana scored the go-ahead on was most definitely not a penalty, none of them would have likely changed anything going forward for the US. We needed more than just a single goal, as a win was all to keep us alive. And frankly, penalty or not, I don't think we had them in us.

What this match does change is the perception of the Ghana side. They are not beyond the European ritual of histrionic displays of false agony. They do it, and they do it well, and that's most unfortunate. Welcome to the world stage.

So, what? C'mon Brazil? Let's go Argentina? Where's the fun in that?

Perhaps Portugal, though the whispers of primadonnatude are worrisome.

I guess I'll have to hold my allegiance until further notice and until then just hope for quality matches. And whoever foregoes the flops will get my vote.

Still Alive

Bloodied and exhausted, the US team put on a stellar performance to tie Italy and keep hope of advancing alive. The odds are against us, but then, in soccer, aren't they always?

As if playing the Azzuri weren't enough to handle, the US men had to fend off a card-happy fleet of officials in Saturday's match. Shortly after half, the US found themselves playing Italy 9 against 10, a sure mismatch.

But they rose to the occasion. McBride returned from a disgustingly flagrant elbow to the face by Italian shithead DeRossi to play a strong second half. Grit, plain and simple, kept us in this game.

This was a US team that did not show up to play the Czechs last week. They passed beautifully, they were aggressive, and they took no shit. The Italians didn't know what to do, as evinced by their inability to put the game away.

Keeper Keller had a big day too, stopping a couple very tough shots as time wound down. He showed us why he's one of the best in the world.

Thursday we've got Ghana, which to my mind could be tougher than either match we've yet played. If we win and Italy loses, we're in. A couple other scenarios can keep us alive as well.

GO USA.

In the Spirit, but Stomped

It's a coincidence that the World Cup has come at the exact same time as my foray back into the world of soccer, but it sure does make it more enjoyable.

Last night I played in my first matches since a short-lived intramural stint at EIU back in 1990. Needless to say, the body feels it. My knees, my ankles, my right hip, and every single tiny bone in both my feet ache. And it's wonderful.

I grew up playing this game, from when I was about 5 until I graduated from high school. I loved it, and then I just stopped playing and paying attention. Now, of course, I wish I'd have stuck with it.

But better late than never. So, I'm back to it. I'm playing with a team made up largely of co-workers, but we've recruited some friends to play with us as well. We're not so good, but just by the end of the second match yesterday (yes, I returned from about 15 years off to start with a double header!) we were definitely doing better. If only we could practice.

So, yesterday we lost both matches. But really, we did fairly well. We were starting to pass more, to maintain possession, and to put shots on goal. Our lack of subs hurts us, but hopefully the ranks will swell.

More to come on this for sure.

US Side Gets Gut-Czech

Czech Republic: 3
USA: 0

Well, we knew this would be a tough match, but who knew we just wouldn't show up? There were no bright spots that I could see, nothing to take to the Italy matchup this weekend. Except for this: We've burned our loss, now we need a tie and a win to stay alive. Play well or go home from here on out.

Levi Takes Dauphine!

Our man Levi Leipheimer has taken the Dauphine-Libere race! This is a week-long stage race in France that is a traditional lead-up to the Tour de France. It's a proving ground, a testing race that tells riders how their form is going into the Tour. Levi's form seems to indicate he's right on.

He performed well in the time trials and tore everyone's legs off in the mountains--everyone except for Iban Mayo, that is, who got a win of his own to signal a possible return to form for the Basque.

Leipheimer, who hails from Montana, has been working his ass off for this year's tour and I'm hopeful that he's got himself into position for good things there.

WORLD CUP

The US team has its first match today, against 2nd seeded Czech Republic. Should be a great start.

We'll be watching at Parill Grill, 10am to noon on Monday.

Trail Work

Saturday was the first day of trail work for the year. National Trails Day. The good news is I put the IF on the Stack Rock trail system for the first time. Man it felt good to get up there--pine tree canopy, skinny trail littered with the refuse of the winter, flowers pushing through the floor to grab at the sun. It was beautiful as I'd expected it to be, and it felt great to be up there.

The bad news is that the actual trail work felt like a total waste. Not total--me and Will and Leo Hennessey did some good work on water diversion on a nice fast downhill that was seeing some serious erosion. And we cleared some brush that needed clearing.

But then we started in on Chris Cook's projects. We rerouted a trail that did not need rerouting. And we built a new trail that, while fun for about a dozen people who will ride it, is nothing but a circus attraction when it comes down to it. A big long stunt trail with nasty rock drops and a long long log ride. Cool stuff, nice freeride options, and a total waste of the time and energy of the people who showed up for legitimate trail work. I feel we were taken advantage of.

When I left this work site, at long last, and went for a ride on trail we hadn't visited, I found loads of logs down and blocking the trial, rerouting traffic around them and damaging the trail. I found lots of brush that was getting so overgrown it was rerouting traffic and damaging the trail. Banks along Sinker Creek were caving in under the weight of down trees, trail junctions and turnoffs were nearly invisible due to overgrowth and down trees, and there was just a lot of cleaning up to do.

With the manpower we had up there, we could have done all the little stuff and a good deal of the big stuff. But, instead, we cleared the first mile or so and spent the rest of the day dicking around on freeride bullshit. This is a good example of why Cook's tenure as SWIMBA president has to end. He works hard and means well, but his efforts are almost totally misguided and, in the end, counterproductive. Hopefully this month's elections will get this organization back on track.

Meantime, at least Stack Rock season has begun again.

Summer Already

It's in the 90s here in Boise, and it's been that way all week. This weekend will dip back toward normal and into the 80s, which will be much better. All this means that summer has hit our doorsteps with all the force of the Sunday Times.

It's good. Winter has ended with a bang. Last weekend I spent all day Saturday riding the IF in the Danskin Mountains, a tough and vertical trail system mainly used by dirt bikes and ATVs. It was fun and challenging and just damned hard. When 4.5 hours on the trail yield you about 18 miles of terrain covered you know it's either tough going or you're taking too many breaks. We did both, but mostly it was tough going.

On Sunday the wife and I floated the Snake River through the Birds of Prey area. The water was moving at a good clip, though about 3000cfs less than the previous evening. Still, the whole 10-miler took us about 2.5 hours. Saw a mess of falcons along with a handful of hawks and a load of turkey vultures and a good number of waterfowl. Very sunny and hot but the up-river breeze kept us pretty cool.

Change in seasons usually means a change in hours and habits for me, and unfortunately the blogging has suffered. I'm re-engaging once again, though, and will be more regular with this. Again.

Happy Spring.

Round 3

And just when you think you're out of the woods, that the dark and gloomy canopy crowding out the sun of total recovery is behind you, there it is--another goddam forest.

Tony Pozeck is currently at St. Alphonsus hospital here in Boise getting prepped for what will be his third surgical procedure. Over the last week and a half he's been dealing with swelling in his head that his docs attributed to accumulation of cerebral spinal fluid. The solution? Wrap it tighter and keep at least a 30 degree angle at all times. When these conservative measures didn't help, he went back to the hospital and they determined he had an infection.

Infection at a surgical site is never anything to be scoffed at. Infection at a surgical site following brain surgery--nevermind multiple brain surgeries--is worrisome. We're worried. Tony's strong like bull, but now he's contending with some nasty invasive shit, and he'll need all the help and discipline he can get to sail through this one.

Tony's at St. Al's in Boise, room 660. If you read this, give a call and see how he is. Or send flowers. Or a postcard. He's been a trooper and a rock so far. We saw him last night and he had a few visitors, so his spirits were up, though it was not difficult to tell that this shit is starting to get to him.

Here's to a successful surgery and a quick and FULL recovery. It's time.

Weird Music

This weekend marks the first annual Boise Experimental Music Festival. It's being put on mostly by local mad scientist Krispen Hartung, and RadioBoise is one of the sponsors.

The lineup is pretty interesting, and though I don't know jack about most of them, I'm looking forward to finding out. Hell, just the fact that something like this is going on here in so-NOT-experimental Boise, ID, has me pretty damned excited.

One performance of note will be Art Hodge. Art's a guy I've met through the radio project. He played a big part in helping the webcast get up and running and in helping some of us figure out the finer points of the technology side of webcasting. He gave me a tutorial on ProTools, too. He's got a show called Break Me Off Some, all breakbeats, and also, he's one of the four rotating hosts of the JazzJoint show that I put together for RadioBoise (which runs Wednesdays from 11 to 1, mountain time). I knew the dude knew music, but I had no idea how deeply. Check out his site: http://www.arthodge.com/ His creds are pretty amazing. He produced fucking Santana and got a grammy for it? And he lives in Boise?! Weird. I'm looking forward to what he puts together for the stage.

We'll be webcasting the whole thing, so check it out here. Tonight, Friday 4/28, 7 to 10p MT, and Saturday 4/29, noon to 10 MT.

HORNER!!!

This one's got to be soooo sweet.



In year 2 of his return trip to European road racing, Chris Horner of Bend, OR, has come up with a big one. He won stage 2 of the Tour de Romandie, and I can't think of anyone who deserves it more or who I'd rather have seen win. He gets the V, he gets the yellow jersey. Beautiful.

Back to Spring

The Yellowstone bike trip is now in the history books, and that, along with the sunny blue skies and blustery winds that have settled onto Boise, means that it is indeed springtime. Sure, there was frost all over the city this morning, and the ride in this morning was colder than it's been in weeks, but still. It's spring, and you can't tell me any different.

Riding in Yellowstone was fantastic as ever. Little chilly, little rain, little snow, little sunshine, and lots and lots of buffalo. On day 1 we made it to the Norris Geyser overlook, about a 60-miler round trip with backtracking. Great ride. Our man AP was able to ride about a half hour in and back, which, coming off what he's come off of, is no mean feat. Nice to see him on the bike again--and it'll be even nicer having him ride along for the long haul. (So start logging them miles, boyo.)

Sunday, which was meant to be ski day, was ride day #2. Too warm and too much rain for skiing. So, we made it a bit shorter and faster of a deal, and I made it out to the 2nd junction before turning around and beating it back for the gate. Nice to spring off on my own, iPod engaged, and really open it up. Felt great. On the way back in Tim and I heard an eagle's screeching, over and over, but couldn't see it--until it flew directly overhead and then perched in a tree about 30 meters away from us. Amazing.

Oh, and we heard wolves, too. First day out, within a mile of the park gate, rolling slowly, we heard a good half-dozen of them howling and howling. First time I've ever heard this, and what a sound it is. Unmistakable, and unforgettable.

So, today I've got the mountain bike at work. Out the window the sun is shining, and the flags are fluttering in the spring breeze. It'll be 50s today, and 70 by Friday. No rain in sight.

Yep, it's springtime. Welcome back.

Jellystone

Well, it's that time again. The annual cycling trip to Yellowstone starts this afternoon. This means spring is truly on the way.

The weather's looking like it did last year--chilly, windy, and some chance of rain or snow. But the roads are clear, the room is booked, the beer is chilling, and my butt is ready for some long miles on the Pinarello.

Let's hope the bison are feeling agreeable.

So exciting.

Tapes n Tapes

I know, me and everybody else, right? Or maybe not.

I caught this band down in Austin during the big SXSW, and they hit and sped right on past my high expectations. Why high? First time I heard them, echoes of Pavement, probably my fave band in the whole wide world okay, bounced throughout my head. That doesn't happen.

This is no Pavement ripoff. That would blow. This is a new band, a young and hungry band from Minneapolis-eh, making killer indie rock with its own voice, separate from the shiteload of Britpop stuff and retro rocking knockoffs cramming up the Bitchfork archives. If you have yet to hear this record, please do. Or first, go to the official website and have a listen. There are 3 tracks available, and if any one of them doesn't sell you, forget it. You're dead. Or deaf. Or, I guess, maybe you just don't like this band. Which would be weird.

Anyway. Diggity.

Via Chicago

I'm in Boise airport waiting to catch a plane to Denver, where I'll get on another plane to go to Chicago. Greg Lilley is getting married up in Wilmette this weekend, and I'm headed back for a long weekend. I'm really looking forward to this, as I expect to see a lot of people I haven't seen in years and years.

On the drive here this morning Cathy asked when the last time I'd been back in Chicago, and I was shocked to realize it was for Tony Kernagis' wedding, probably about 5 years ago now. Or maybe 6. Either way, it's been a while, and it's about time to get back there again.

Mostly I blame my parents. I mean, if they hadn't left there and moved to Alabama, I'd still go to Chicago to visit them and therefore everyone else--high school friends, college friends, family and family friends, everyone. Since they're not there any more, I just don't make it back often enough.

Anyway, here I go. Barry'll be picking me up, and I'll be staying with him most of not all of the time. Saturday night after the wedding I'll be staying in the hotel near the reception, and tomorrow night I may end up crashing at Macri's, as Shields and Mack are coming out to Oak Park for the evening. This oughtta be a highlight of the weekend, as I haven't seen or hung with these f'ers since my wedding. Friends from like 3rd grade and kindergarten, respectively. Craziness.

The food list is short but hefty: Italian beef sandwich, pizza, gyros, pizza, and pizza. I brought running clothes and shoes so I don't totally undo everything I've been able to do over the winter.

So, this time I'm bringing the laptp with me. We'll see if I regret it or not. I doubt it.

SXSW Saturday

Now that it's been a week and then some, Saturday is faded in my mind. Not surprising--it kinda sucked. I'm having trouble thinking of anything specific that I saw, day or night.

The day shows got good once we hit Mother Egan's. Eric was hip to see Silversun Pickups, and we got there just in time. A trio from Cali, they put on a good show, some great songs nearly overshadowed by the lead singer's overexuberant feeling of the love. They were followed by a band I vaguely remember, not too bad but nothing to stick.

Then, Prescott Curlywolf. So glad we made it. They hit it hard and rocked out for their whole half hour, one after the other, no breaks, tight as ever. Baldachino, Mariposa, pow pow pow. It was so good to see them it redeemed the rest of the day.

Not so for the night, though. It's a bit of a blur at this point, but we were shut out of a few shows before finally perusing a handful of midgrade rock bands. The Pink Swords, from Austin, looked like they were having a ball, drunk as hell and thrashing about, bringing the punk rock straight and dirty. We also saw a two-piece called something something, I don't remember, but they've got a new record coming out on Self-Starter, maybe, or Merge. I don't remember. Memorable.

We bolted there and made our way to The Cribs at Club de Ville, and they were good. Too bad we didn't get there earlier--we made it just in time for the last song and a half and a nice rainshower.

We rode home through wet streets, mellow and tired and a bit sad at it all being pretty much over with. Anticlimactic, sort of a letdown, but after the whirlwind of the first two and a half days, a bit of a letdown isn't such a big deal.

I don't know if I'll go back. It was great fun, but losing over 5 days of vacation time is a big deal to me, and I think there are other ways I'd rather spend it. Besides, going to Austin when this isn't going on lets me do a lot more that I want to do.

But then, I've said that before.

Our Man AP

There is good news out of Boise, ID.

Our man Tony Pozeck, who just two weeks ago went through his second brain surgery of the year, is well on his way to a full recovery. He's through the immediate post-surg tough time, has dealt with some severe swelling and the mental and motor repercussions of that, and is steadily improving day by day.

Of course, with something like this (I mean like having your head opened TWICE and having a schwannoma removed from next to a cranial nerve and a dermoid tumor pulled from under brain tissue), you have to continue to be careful and vigilant and CAREFUL, but it seems he is headed down the right path.

Just this morning I got an e-mail from him, articulate as ever, expressing interest in joining me, Tim, and John on our annual spring trek to Yellowstone for some road riding in the park before the cars are allowed. We've done it every year for the past 3 years, and it's a rite of spring that we all look forward to. It's a long drive, and he won't be able to ride, but he wants to go. That's a good sign.

Most importantly, when you talk to Tony, it's the exact same Tony that we knew before. It's all there--the memory, the humor, the amicable insults, all of it. To be back to himself so soon, after all this shit he's had to go through, is amazing and commendable.

I always knew the dude was tough, but this seals it. Good job AP. We'll celebrate in Yellowstone.

SXSW Friday

Friday started off so well.

We slept in, reeling from Thursday night, then got up and made breakfast of the infamous South Austin Speedball to prep ourselves for the long day ahead.

There was lots going on during the day on Friday, but we made the tough decision to forego everything else and camp out at Club deVille all day long, provided we could get in. This was the Insound party, $2 to everyone, badge or not. Very nice. The lineup was solid--it started out with Love is All, then The Boy Least Likely To, Pink Mountaintops, and Serena Maneesh. All bands on my list to see. Headlining, though, was Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, one of my top 3 for the weekend. So, we didn't think we'd get in, but we thought we'd hit the line early and see.

We got in line at 2, and we were in by 2:15 when the first band started. Sweet! And to make it sweeter, free beer and barbecue all day. Suffice to say I'll be supporting Insound, those wonderful people.

So we hung all day, staking out a primo corner with a chair and a place to rest beers. Love is All rocked, they were fantastic, powerful indie pop from Norway, I think. The Boy... was also a good show, very very happy and bouncy, the perfect thing for a 3pm beer buzz. Pink Mountaintops sounded great, a bunch of Canadians with a feel-good jam-out rock vibe, sort of like Broken Social Scene numbed down to Califone tones. Serena Maneesh rocked, also Scandinavian I think, just busting out tune after tune of hard moving indie rock.

Then came CYHSY. They came out and broke right into Heavy Metal, a great opener, and when the singer opened his mouth to sing, the squawk was even more pronounced than usual. It was painful just to watch him try to sing--apparently he had totally fried his voice and could only hit a certain slim range without going blank. Nevertheless, he kept at it like a trooper, the band pounding away behind him, working through a set as fun and wonderful as I could have expected. Great show. And a wise move.

Unfortunately, that's where the Friday fun ends.

We got out late, missed the 9:00 we wanted to see, then I for some reason abandoned my plans and decided to go to Stubb's and see the Subways. The line was a mile long. So we tried the Flamingo for Afrirampo--again shut down. Elysium for The Boy..., same thing.

My night was supposed to end at Animal Collective, but it was looking like everything was too packed, plus it was St. Patrick's Day and the idiot contingent was just too much to bear. So, rather than walk around all night, I thought I'd hang at Stubb's for the middling but interesting lineup of Metric, The Magic Numbers, and Snow Patrol. Seems solid, right?

Wrong.

We never made it in for Metric, as we watched the badge line swell and recede and we never moved. We made it in for The Magic Numbers, who bored me to lifelessness. No doubt my frame of mind influenced this, but still: boring, derivative, sappy crap. Hated it. Snow Patrol? Sucked. Arena rock garbage packaged as sensitive boy indie rock. Just an awful presentation of mediocre material, made all the worse by a total lack of effects or enhancements, which is what makes their records interesting.

So, great day, crap night. Saturday would make up for it, surely.

SXSW Thursday Night

The night began with a very bad decision. It was either chase a rumor and get in line at 6 to try to see a Beastie Boys show at 7, or get down to Auditorium Shores for VIP seating and free drinks for Spoon. We chose the latter, largely because it meant we could eat at Green Mesquite. Bad choice. Not the barbecue, but the rest of it. We couldn't get backstage, couldn't see well and missed a big chunk of it wandering around trying to find the person who would get us in to the big hookup. Oh well. We stood around with the families amid the blankets and day glo necklaces for a while and then made our way back to the bikes to roll downtown.

A quick trip across the bridge brought us to Jazz, or Parish II as it's called this week, where we had some time to kill before Detachment Kit. We went up and watched Jon Vanderslice for a little bit, then went back downstairs. As they came onstage, Eric turns to me and says, "Hold on to your ass." Glad he warned me. Them boys just laid it all out there, thrashing their way through a fierce set of Chicago rawk, intense and loud and relentless. Great great show.

We walked across the street to Buffalo Billiards for Earlimart, which was ok but sort of boring. Didn't really stack up to Detachment Kit, nor to the rest of the night. Rock was becoming the theme. Follow the rock.

The Fiery Furnaces brought it, transforming loads of songs off Blueberry Boat from orchestrated art rock to straight up rock rock, done four piece style with the focus on heavy guitars. Great set, not at all what I was expecting, but perhaps they've got sick of the freaky flitty stuff and want to get back to it. They did, Eleanor all in white and looking like a young and hungry Patty Smith.

After that we went to Emo's IV, where we saw Vietnam, who weren't so fun. Wandery jam rock, all teeth and hair, so we went down to check the line at Eternal for CYHSY. Huge, badges only, f' that. We went back to Emo's IV to see We Are Wolves. Good decision. Inspired, really. They were fantastic, way high energy hard ass guitar drum keys and synths, all screamy and fuzzed out and tremendous drum beats. Really fun show and a great way to move the night to the next pitch. Eric dug it too.

From there we made our way to Fox and Hound to see what the deal was for Brazilian Girls. We got in, but this band called Particle were still onstage, where they stayed for what seemed days, playing their hippie jam band crapola way beyond their allotted time. They even brought Jon Popper's fat stupid ass up on stage to sponge that godawful harmonica garbage all over a watery Once In a Lifetime. It was a travesty, a crime almost, and the kids ate it up. As a wise young South Park resident might say, Stupid hippies. Finally, about 1, me and Eric broke out of that mess and made our way back to Soho for Thunderbirds Are Now! Another great decision. We're on a roll. We got there as they started and they rocked it out for an hour solid, high speed spazzy punk like there will be no tomorrow. An amazing set, alongside We Are Wolves as the best moments yet.

Riding homeward, as we approached Fox and Hound, Cathy sent Eric a text saying the Braz Girls had just started. Friggin Bingo. We parked the bikes and ran in to the tented parking lot and caught much of the set, which didn't even start until just before 2. They were outrageous and fantastic, the singer the sexiest person I have ever seen on a stage anywhere. Amazing lithe Euro hottie just playing the crowd like a cheap flamenco guitar--hard and overtly sexual. Wonderful. We all loved it. We left at 3, and they were just starting into their encore, Lazy Lover.

A nice ride home, to bed at 4, and now we're heading out to do it again. We're trying to get into the Insound party for CYHSY, but we'll see if that'll be possible. Fingers crossed.