Chasing Summits and Pucks

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As the 2023 season came to a close, our anticipation for snowy slopes was met with disappointment as we found ourselves hitting the roads instead. Eager to swap wheels for skis, we were instead limited to our usual routine of kitting up and rolling out. The need for fun and replenishment of our mental berry basket was overshadowed by the sight of snowless mountains.

Hockey, a vital part of our off-season recreational activities, kept us charging and our lungs burning in the early morning hours of every Tuesday and Friday. But as every athlete knows, exercise isn't just about staying fit; it's about making sure you can fit more food in your mouth. Due to the conditions, hockey skates weren't the only thing we laced up this year. Yes, I say hockey, because there's only one. The one that's played on ice.

As we do nearly every weekend for months on end, we packed our bags and headed into the dry mountains of Colorado. Summiting peaks in trail shoes wasn't quite as satisfying, especially when outrun by the Simmons duo and Sir Wiggins himself, resulting in some negative mental berries.

Even with just a light sugar dusting, the Colorado mountains retained their charm. Even through my semi-conscious blurry eyes. Rocky scrambles, slippery snow slips, and thin air made the mountaintop views all the more worth it. But the honor of MVM, (Most Valuable Mountaineer) belonged to Wiggy, boasting the best summit-to-weight ratio, walking off the mountains as the biggest of dogs.

From the Sangre de Christo Mountain Range, we headed home, to repack, and head out once again. Whoever says they like traveling, obviously doesn't travel enough, because it sucks. We circled back to Tucson, for the one and only Tour de Tucson. We didn't go there for the ride, mainly for the Road Runners hockey game. "Fight Night" in the ice colosseum, called the hockey rink.

We still did a bit of bike pedaling, Quinn and Colby were charged with domestique duties for Rodger and Holly. For myself, I had the pleasure of taking "The Watt" around the Tucson course. Making sure he stayed out of the wind, off the front of the pack, and ate took in enough fuel. The latter being the simplest of tasks, as his nickname entails, Scott loves laying down the tempo. Keeping him off the front was like trying to catch a wild Mustang with nothing but a string of floss. Yet, we succeeded, getting around the course without plowing into orange traffic cones, more than I can say for some others. Hope you guys are good. Bringing my leader over the finish line in a banging 9th place.

To the sweet lady who thought she took a picture with Quinn and Scott, my apologies, it was Richard and Scott. After the first hour of the race, I stopped correcting people who thought I was Quinn. I know the majority have only seen him on TV or in magazines, but this man has not shaved his beard since the time he joined LUX as a junior. Considering that I have no such thing as a flamy ginger beard. I left it up to the people looking back at their photos to figure out I was not Quinn.

As we wrapped up our not-so-off-season off-season, feeling unfulfilled with the lack of skiing, we felt quite a bit reluctant to continue riding around, our mental berry basket empty, but as the man himself says "Stay Hard". We jumped back into our routine of bike, gym, eat, repeat. Leaving joy behind, each scoop from our big ol' bag of Botan Rice served as a reminder of what we wanted to achieve. With our minds set on the top step, we roll into another season of hectic travel and races.

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