Just a quick post to celebrate our successful climb of Mt. Evans last Friday. You may recall that last week I wrote about our plan to climb Mt. Evans in Assault on Mt. Evans. At the time, I had no idea if I were up to the task. I’d never even been to 14,000 feet, let alone tried to ride a bike up to that elevation. Well, not only did we succeed, but we had a blast. We lucked out with the weather. Little or no smoke from nearby wildfires that have been raging and sending unhealthy air into the region. At the upper reaches of the mountain, temperatures were…

What have I gotten myself into? Next Friday, on August 21, my friend and Ripper-In-Training, Josh, along with fellow blogger and bona fide Senior Ripper Bob, aka Old Man Gravel, will attempt to ride to the summit of Mt. Evans in Clear Creek County, Colorado. Mt. Evans is the highest paved road in North America, topping out at just over 14,200 feet. On July 9 of this year, Old Man Gravel published a post called “Hacking Mt. Evans“, where he outlined his plan to ride to the summit. This summer, because of Covid, no cars are allowed above the Welcome Station, around 15 miles from the peak. To have the…

Sometimes, Senior Rippers need to be on the go even in this time of Covid and we are no exception. This summer, we completed our seventh road trip from the East Coast to our home in Park City. Why, you may ask? Well, our Great Pyrenees gives us no other choice. To her credit, Piper is a fabulous traveler. Her large size and gorgeous (usually) white coat attract attention wherever she goes, which gives us an opportunity to connect with people who share their travel stories with us or give us some local insights. Plus, this summer, a road trip seemed the safest way to travel. We recently pulled into…

A lightbulb just went on in my head and I started to look at my surroundings in a new light. It’s berry season! My eyes started to look left and right rather than straight ahead, always on the prowl for the right bush with a hint of color between the green leaves. Usually one to stride with purpose, I began to meander, stopping to gather and munch, just like my hero, Little Sal, in Robert McClousky’s, Blueberries for Sal. A lost golf ball became a delicious reason to hunt, and there was nary a time that I didn’t emerge from the foliage with berries in hand. Now I’m sure that…