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veryone knows the best camp meal is a quesadilla grilled on hot rocks by the fire and wrapped bun-style around a roasted sausage then finished off with some baked beans on top, right? Or is that just us? If you’re repulsed, don’t be quite yet. In the morning, when the pot of beans and sausage has frozen solid, we dig out our forks and continue the feast. Like many other odd traditions, this one was born out of experimentation and lack of funds. It’s a cherished custom and essential delicacy during every outing. But, it’s not the cold beans or frozen sausage that keep us coming back, it’s the context. It’s that rock-solid association with good company in beautiful environments. This is campfire communion with those hearty souls willing to bask in the glory of a quesadilla concoction. Those who won’t think twice about putting pepperoni in a peanut butter sandwich, who will use a pine tree branch as a sponge, the picnic table as a cutting board, and a spoon as a bottle opener. They’ll make do with the resources at hand and head straight into the wet forest to go #2. It’s the people who, no matter the conditions, will huddle around the fire until it’s down to the coals, high five you after a wipeout, and shout yells of joy when the terrain is simply perfect. Companionship is at the core of the outdoor experience. It’s what makes climbing North America’s longest sport route (page 26), recovering from frozen fingers and forgotten gear (22), and starting a business (40) at all possible. There’s no substitute for camaraderie. As we evolve and navigate new experiences, more iterations of the beansausage quesadilla will surface, adding to the ever-expanding storage bank of trips, conversations, and relationships that shape who we are. It is these authentic bonds that endure every obstacle. Enjoy the third issue of O2 Magazine, and remember these wise words from our sage art director José Contreras, “Mess with one bean, you mess with the whole burrito.”
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Kevin Curran at Mt. Baker, WA. Photo by Ian Koppe
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Oregon Coast Highway. Photo by Jarrett Juarez
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Blackcomb Glacier in Whistler, British Columbia. Photo by Ian Tyley
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Elijah Silva at Twin Peaks in San Francisco, CA. Photo by Ian Sutherland
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he name Coffin Mountain was derived from its apparent casket shape, but we like to think it’s because the view from the top might just kill you. The 2.5-mile trail winds up ridges and sturdy switchbacks to a lookout tower used to monitor wildfires during the summer. The tower’s windows are boarded for the offseason, but during the summer, the Detroit Rangers are friendly and happy to chat.
On the summit, you’ll find a helicopter pad to the north, a radio tower to your west, and a breathtaking 360 degree view of Oregon’s alpine landscape including Mt. Hood, Mt. Jefferson, Three-Fingered Jack, the South Sister, and Mt. Bachelor. Pack chains, shovels, and extra fuel during the off season because getting to the Coffin Mountain Fire Lookout in the snow is not one for the faint hearted. While the journey is fairly mild in dry seasons, the forest road closure adds a 7-mile snowshoe hike to the trailhead from the North Santiam Highway, resulting in a bold 17mile round trip. Nevertheless, the stunning panorama brought this destination to our attention, no matter the season.
FIN ISH 44° 37’307” N 121° 02’654” W
START
COORDINATES
ACTIVITY: HIKING/ MOUNTAIN BIKING
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DISTANCE: 2.5 MILES
In an environment dominated by incessant downpour, long days at sea, and XtraTuf rubber rain boots, a fisherman’s toes see the light of day for the first time in a while. Cordova, Alaska. Photo by Will Saunders
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“I probably should take a break considering I’ve already had to pull my toenail off once,” Devin Malone says, “but I just can’t. I love skiing too much.” Mt. Bachelor, Oregon. Photo by Brian Amdur
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lay there quietly for what must have been two hours. Every part of me ached from the frigid snow that seeped through the two layers of tarp underneath our tent. While my friends Jack and Grant slept soundly just inches away, I was waiting for the light to crest over the horizon and breach the pitch blackness. I hoped it would be worth it. Visions of bright pink skies and fresh snow had danced through my mind for months. There were no more excuses when a foot of snow fell early in the season, so I set off for Tumalo Mountain with a few intrepid friends. We left our homes in Bend just a few hours before sunset. I knew Jack well but had only recently met Grant—though anyone thrilled by the thought of spending an uncomfortable night atop a cold, windy mountain was sure to make a great addition. As a few cars rolled by us on their way out of the Dutchman Flat Sno-Park, Jack realized that not only had he forgotten his sleeping pad, but more importantly, his tent. With the knowledge that all the best adventures start with something going wrong, I reassured the two of them that they could squeeze into my twoperson tent. Besides, we would need as much warmth as we could get. With this comforting thought, we continued on with mildly panicked enthusiasm. The trail meandered for three relaxed miles, but the deep snow slowed our pace. Every so often, Mt. Bachelor revealed itself through the trees, flaunting just a taste of the view we were chasing. An hour into the hike, the cold began to seep through my battered loaner gloves, and the bite of frigid air felt increasingly more lethal. We summited just after sundown and scrambled to dig out a spot under a tree for our tent, which is the quickest route to warmth. My frozen-fingered attempt to construct our shelter prompted Jack and Grant to take over. I watched as they squeezed our small tent under the drooping, frost-covered tree. It was dark, my hands were useless and aching, and I was getting exhausted. My mind wandered 24 // oregon outdoor
back to a warm, cozy bed back in Bend. I hopped into the tent and wrapped myself in everything I could find while the others stayed outside and made a fire. After a few minutes, I joined them for a little hand toasting and photography, which is what had inspired the trip. In what felt like the theme of the night, a piece of my tripod snapped off while taking long exposure photos of the stars, but by that point I was too cold to be upset. I burrowed into the tent and drifted off to sleep. A few hours of surprisingly deep slumber later, a burst of wind slammed into the tent and woke me. I wondered how long I had before sunrise and tried to picture the trees swaying in the loud, roaring wind. Finally, a sliver of light seeped through the thin walls of our tent. I reached over my companions, unzipped the tent, and poked my head outside. A thick strip of bright orange lined the eastern horizon. I shook the guys awake—this was exactly the sunrise we were looking for. We slowly made our way out into the howling, icy wind. The colors of the sunrise glittering off the snow far exceeded our expectations. I turned toward Mt. Bachelor. It sat calmly to the south, still dark. I rushed uphill about a hundred feet from our camp to catch a glimpse of the Sisters and Broken Top. A beautiful, soft blue swathed the base of the mountains, fading into an ocean of pink at the peaks. I have never seen a sky so lit with color. We spent the morning walking around the summit, conversation was sparse as we admired the glowing panorama. Jack and Grant concluded our venture by skiing down the mountain while I walked behind—reflecting. Every time I find myself camping in the cold on winter nights, I suffer the same discomforts: stinging cheeks, exhaustion, frozen appendages—and the only one I have to blame is myself. But the physical hardship melts away in the face of the beauty I experience. I will remember dawn on Tumalo Mountain not because of my cold fingers, but because of the vibrant sky and who I shared those moments with.
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he competing sounds of drunken karaoke and the heavy bass of today’s hottest dubstep beats float through the thin nylon walls of my tent. During the past few weeks I’ve adjusted to the cacophony of my surroundings; it’s comically soothing. Around 2:30 a.m., some jackass sets off a dozen fireworks. Call me a party pooper but I’m supposed to wake up in an hour to conquer North America’s longest sport climb. Yes, I’m waking up at 3:30 on vacation. This is my idea of fun. Twenty hours before touching down in Monterrey, Mexico, I had crammed my sleep-deprived body into a super-sized lecture hall and attempted to demonstrate my grasp of kinematics. Immediately after the physics exam, I hit the road for PDX and put the real world behind me. Taylor—the beautiful, badass, gypsy soul who convinced me to pack my bags and cross the border—had been living it up in Mexico since early November. She picked me up from the airport and as we drove along México 53 toward the small town of Hidalgo, the moonlight
was just bright enough to outline the silhouette of the mountains surrounding Potrero. El Potrero Chico, or “The Little Corral,” is home to some of the world’s finest sport climbing with hundreds of limestone masterpieces ranging in difficulty from 5.7 to low 5.14. Over the past two decades, great exchange rates, cheap camping, delicious Mexican food, and friendly locals have made this place a not-sohidden gem. In 2014, The North Face introduced Potrero to the worldwide climbing community with a video of Alex Honnold scaling El Sendero Luminoso (5.12d) without a rope. Increased traffic has only enhanced the Potrero experience. While climbing partners; directions; and clean, well-traveled routes are readily available, solitude and adventure are still attainable. During my time in Potrero, there were never more than 50 climbers in the area at once, most of whom were always happy to share coffee in the morning, and cervezas at night. Taylor’s childhood friends, Jake and Jordan, joined us for the beginning of my trip. Our gang of 28 // oregon outdoor
four spent the first few days adjusting to the limestone and playing around on some of the area’s easier warmup routes. We savored each day to the bitter end, and blistered but blissful, we returned to our campsite at La Pagoda to share the day’s successes with equally stoked and hungry monkeys. Taylor and I took our first rest day when Jake and Jordan flew back to the States and, after some much needed R&R, we cranked up the difficulty while exploring new sections of Potrero. We decided to tackle an 8-pitch 5.11 called Supernova. We zoomed to the top, climbed the entire route without falling, and returned safely to the ground in time for lunch. Hungry, delirious, and excited, we couldn’t stop making each other laugh during the rappel. With our feet on the ground and peanut-butter-hardboiled-egg-avocado tortilla wraps in our bellies, we concluded that another multi-pitch was necessary. Within a few seconds, we both knew what the other was thinking; the decision was simple. The next day, we would try our luck at
Cl i m b i n g Li n go Grade: The difficulty of the route. Americans refer to the Yosemite Decimal System, which ranges from 5.0 - 5.15. Belay: Rope management performed by the non-climber to assure the safety of the climber. If the climber falls, the non-climber (the belayer) weights the rope at an anchor to counterweight and arrest the fall. Pitch: A section of climbing up to a set of anchors. A multi-pitch is when a route is longer than one section of climbing. Anchor: A set of two to three bolts at the end of a pitch where climbers place gear used for belaying. Rappel: To descend a rock face on a rope anchored at a higher point.
North America’s longest sport climb: Timewave Zero, a 23-pitch monster first bolted and climbed by Potrero legend and guidebook author, Magic Ed. We asked around for advice on the route—but to no avail. The Mountain Project online climbing forum and a topography map from Magic Ed’s little orange guidebook quickly became our best friends. By 3:45 a.m., Taylor and I were already on our second cups of coffee. We packed our food for the day and inspected our gear one last time. Headlamps guided us as we walked through the dark canyon. Further 29 // oregon outdoor
away from our campsite, the music faded out and all that was left was the synchronized sound of our boots crunching gravel. Sweating from the 45-minute uphill approach, we reached the base of our climb at 5:00 a.m. Emulating the psychedelic owl mascot on our El Buho t-shirts, Taylor and I soar to the top of pitch 2. As I attach myself to the next set of anchors, the sun begins to rise and reveals a real life buho perched on a nearby ridge. I’m not terribly superstitious, but that tiny owl gave me a distinct feeling of confidence.
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Very little planning went into this aside from the decision to begin rappelling at 4:00 p.m. no matter where we were on the route. To climb efficiently, Taylor and I decided to link as many pitches as possible. To do so, the leader must climb a full rope length at once, which means lowering the leader back to the belay station is not possible. Once past the first set of anchors that denote a pitch, the leader must reach the next set to establish a belay for the follower. Taylor’s electric-green rope measures about 230 feet (70m), and each pitch on Timewave is at least 90 feet, meaning we could not link more than two pitches at once. This process is smooth until the linking of the 3rd and 4th pitches, when Taylor realizes that she’s climbed past the second set of anchors by quite a bit, and I no longer have enough rope for her to continue climbing. At this point, Taylor would have to down-climb while removing quick draws, a tedious and time consuming process. Wasted time on these first few pitches would make our summit bid highly unlikely, so we decided that the best option was to begin climbing simultaneously. If linking pitches sounds risky, simul-climbing crosses the boundary from risky to dangerous. It’s the stuff that you don’t tell your mom about. I remove my gear from the belay station above pitch 2, and begin to follow Taylor’s lead. No longer separated by an anchor, if I were to fall, Taylor would be yanked off the wall and dropped until her last quickdraw sucked her back towards the rock at high speed. The next 20 minutes are devoted to uncompromised focus. Reunited at the top of pitch five, we laugh off the sketchy experience and continue our quest upward. At the top of pitch 7, with Wu-Tang clan bumping through my cellphone speakers, I take the lead. We continue trading off and moving quickly until the 20th pitch, where a series of more difficult climbs
loom in our path. Inspired by Taylor’s words of encouragement and Ice Cube’s gangsta flow, I clawed myself to the top of the 5.11 and 5.12, only falling once amid many desperate moves. Feeling exhausted and accomplished, we continued upward along the final two pitches, a 5.8 and a short scramble to the top. At exactly 4:00 p.m., we stand atop the summit of our longest multipitch to date. A hug and a selfie later, it’s time to descend. If rappelling 23 pitches sounds like hell, I can assure you that if you rappel simultaneously with the right partner, it’s more like a goofy roller coaster ride. Our throbbing, blistered feet finally reach the ground at 8:00 p.m. Remarkably, we are relatively unscathed. We prematurely take note of our good fortune and begin to hobble downhill towards camp. Five minutes later, I lose my footing and become the little spoon to a particularly frisky cactus. Back at camp we’re greeted by our Potrero family who are eager to hear about the day’s events. Campers reward our success with a delicious curry stir-fry, totopos y salsa, and some drinks. After dinner and much needed showers, Taylor and I walk down the road from camp in search of celebratory Margaritas. We pause outside to look up at the silhouette of the canyon walls illuminated by the moonlight. Potrero at night is just as beautiful as the day I arrived and much more familiar now. “We were just on top of that,” Taylor says. “Yeah,” I respond. “Pretty badass.” We stand there, smiling in silence and staring at the sky, content with the day’s successes. I know this won’t be the last time Taylor and I share opposite ends of a rope. The bond formed thousands of feet above the ground—responsible for each others lives—is unparalleled. The thought lingers in the air as we continue down the road.
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WORDS CLAIRE HOLLEY PHOTOS WILL SAUNDERS Athletic entrepreneurs shape the next generation of trail runners.
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avid Laney slows his run to a jog and stops to re-tie his Nikes. “There are hundreds of miles of beautiful trails in Ashland and throughout Southern Oregon,” he says, looking around. Vivid evergreens of all shades are juxtaposed against the cool bluegreens of rolling hills in the distance. In the midst of this colorful trail, aptly named Alice in Wonderland, it is easy to visualize a vast network of scenic paths. It is, perhaps, the perfect environment for Laney and his training partner Ryan Ghelfi. They run about 16 miles a day. Ghelfi and Laney have had a busy year. Laney was named the 2015 Ultrarunner of the year by Ultrarunning Magazine and also won the USA Track and Field 100k trail championship. In early February, he competed in the Marathon Olympic Trials. Ghelfi has spent most of his career chasing those elusive fastest known times (FTKs) in 50 and 100 kilometer trail races, and will compete in the Ultra Trail Mont Blanc, a 103-mile race in Chamonix, France, later this year. When preparing for races, they push themselves to run 18 miles a day and their focus narrows to a single goal—be the
fastest ever. Despite this all-consuming lifestyle, the two have other ventures in motion, including a brand new business. In 2015, the duo launched Trails and Tarmac, a web-based coaching service born out of a mutual passion for the sport and a desire to share their expertise with others. The company offers personalized training and 24/7 phone and email access to the two coaches. Laney and Ghelfi monitor the distances and progress of their trainees while also getting to know them on a personal level. In terms of their coaching style, Laney says, “We approach trail running differently than a lot of people.” Ghelfi and Laney are currently training 20 runners, all of whom have been with them since the start, and they agree that they will soon need to hire a third coach. Laney estimates that within a few years they will have six coaches and 50-100 runners. “Trail running is really growing,” he explains, “and a lot of people want coaching.”
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he two men run Trails and Tarmac from their laptops in the basement of a coffee shop in downtown Ashland, Oregon, where running culture fuels daily life. “Ashland has had a huge influence on us,” says Ghelfi. “It’s a really great running community and a pretty inspiring place.” Ashland is also home to Hal Koerner, one of the world’s best distance runners and owner of Rogue Valley Runners, a retail store where Ghelfi works. They hope to share this unique spirit and tradition of the region with their runners, who live in Australia, Canada, England, and across the United States. Both men have long aspired to be coaches, and had previously been coaching runners independently. But Ghelfi wasn’t content. “I never wanted ‘Ryan Ghelfi coaching.’ It was more about an idea, and less about us,” Ghelfi explains. Laney began running long distance at age seven, and after 20 years felt that his interest had begun to wane. Working with new runners allowed him to experience their excitement and the effect was contagious. “I realized coaching was something I really liked doing,” he says. The two men are inspired by the connections they have formed with their runners. “When you coach runners you learn a lot about all of them,” Ghelfi explains. “Not just about running, but about their lives. Getting to know them on a personal level, seeing them get better, and seeing them get excited about it is really fun. I’ve had just as much fun having my athletes succeed as I do when I win a race.” Ghelfi and Laney say their proudest achievement has been watching the progress of a runner named Cole, who graduated from the University of Oregon. “He was pretty good, but not at the professional level,” says Laney. Since they started coaching him, Laney says, “he’s so much better in both his fitness and mindset.” Cole recently ran a half marathon in Phoenix, which qualified him for the Olympic Trials—and inspired even bigger dreams. On top of managing a thriving business, Ghelfi is expecting his first child in September. “Life is getting really busy,” he admits. Nevertheless, he is very optimistic about his future, and remains focused on running. “I definitely want to continue to improve,” he says. “I’m 27 right now, so I figure I still have a lot of years that I can get better.” At the core of this chaotic lifestyle is a deep love for the sport and the strong bond of friendship. Ghelfi is confident that they can succeed in the business world in the same way they have excelled at their sport. “David is a really smart guy,” Ghelfi says. “When he puts his mind to something, he’s going to succeed at it. That’s something that I’ve known about him since day one.”
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For three innovators in Oregon’s local food community, this routine dictates life’s ebb and flow.
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Portland
WILD
Erika Welsh, Co-founder
Portland
FRI ILDS WEND
Erika Wel Co-foun
What’s a driven young athlete to do when a hectic college workload yields leaning towers of peanut butter empties all over her countertops? Make peanut butter from scratch, of course. At least for Erika Welsh and her then-college roommate, Keeley Tillotson, this was the logical course of action. Their story began in an apartment kitchen near the University of Oregon, and continues to spread smoothly across the country, taking tongues by storm with nut butters that redefine delicious.
FRIENDS
What was it that initially inspired you to start experimenting with your own peanut butter? Keeley and I were busy students and athletes, so peanut butter was our go-to meal and snack. We ate it with everything. One day we ran out of peanut butter and decided to experiment with the food processor that I had just gotten for Christmas. Keeley had bookmarked a “How to Make Your Own Peanut Butter,” recipe online and we saw it as the perfect opportunity. We just started blending up peanuts and salt and that’s how it all began! We were basking in the love of peanut butter. Where does the flavor-creation process begin and how does it evolve? The research and development process is the most fun and seems to come naturally for us. The first day we started making peanut butter, we decided, “Let’s add ingredients that sound good with peanut butter and that we eat with peanut butter, but that we’ve never seen combined in a peanut butter jar.” In the beginning it was just what sounded good to us. Now, we have a large distribution so our product ideas and launches are much more calculated.
Is exercise a big part of life amid the demands of business? Yes, definitely. We both grew up playing on various sports teams and that transferred to college. We both belong to gyms, do yoga, run, hike, and do circuits. So staying active is really important to us. In balancing the stress and chaotic demands of running a business, exercise has really helped us stay sane. What do each you and Keeley bring to the table? Keeley is a math and spreadsheet wiz with a very analytical brain. I much prefer to deal with the people on the product side of our business. It’s easy to divide and conquer. I think the relationship that we have—from best friends to business partners—is the strongest factor in maintaining and growing Wild Friends. I can’t imagine being excited or motivated to run a business with anyone else at this point. Best flavor combination? Recently, I discovered this combination: putting our Classic Almond Butter on pear slices. Some people think it sounds weird but it’s really good. You’ve got the sweetness of the pear and the salty, creaminess of the almond butter. That has been a new favorite of mine.
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E
BIT
FUEL
Eric Shen, Co-Founder
OREGON CITY
Efficiency speaks in numbers. Eric Shen’s numbers spoke for themselves when he worked as a salesman for a milk company. He set his sales targets high, obliterated his marks, and saw his commissions rise even higher. But Eric isn’t the type to rest on his laurels, so he funneled his work ethic into his passion for personal health. He and his wife, Isabel, began testing recipes they hoped would pack the same punch of efficiency and functionality that they threw into their 4:00 AM gym sessions. Out of this effort, Bite Fuel was born.
What’s the biggest change you’ve noticed in day-today life since becoming a small business owner after working as a salesman? Throughout my whole background in sales, knocking on doors, making those calls, the biggest thing was that I was always trying to please my boss. He would always give me these numbers, and I would hit them, and obviously in sales when you sell more your commission checks are bigger, but in the end I didn’t see anything I could do to help the company beyond the sale. I had all these ideas about how to grow the company and pursue different channels, but my voice was never heard. When I started my own thing, everything was just me. I get to make those decisions. I don’t have to ask anybody. I still do the sales, but it just feels more complete. Considering Bite Fuel is meant to accompany some serious business in the gym, what’s your favorite thing to do at the gym? Circuit training. I like to do all muscles, but very fast. Set-toset, rep-to-rep and get everything done in 30 minutes. I get that done, and then get to work.
What makes a food functional? Functional basically means that when you eat a food, that food is going to do something for you. It’s going to work for you. For instance, protein, that’s a very functional ingredient because when you eat protein it’s helping you build muscle, it’s good for your skin, it’s helping you lose weight. When and how does your product fit into your own daily life? Every morning when I wake up, I do a bowl of almond milk with one of our protein granolas. After every gym session, I share a bag of our protein cookies between me and my wife. What’s the most common mistake you see people make in their eating choices? A lot of people go to the grocery store hungry. When you do that, you see good packaging and you pick with your stomach. You’re not really thinking. It’s your stomach and your eyes. That’s it. That’s why my wife and I always go on a full stomach. At Costco, we can walk around and say no to the samples. It just makes for better decisions. You and co-founder/wife Isabel wake up at 4:00 a.m. to get to the gym before work. What’s the motivation behind that strategy? The best thing about going at 4:00 a.m. is that there’s no one at the gym, so it’s like your own playground. It really gives you that kick of energy when you are at work. We feel pumped up. We got the sweat out of our system already, and we know after work we can just go to sleep rather than doing some crazy physical activity.
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PICKY PICKY
Jesse Thomas co-founder Jesse Thomas Endurance athletes are no strangers to endless spreads of energy bars Jesse Thomas at grocery stores and running shops. But for champion triathlete, Jesse co-founder Thomas, none of these chalky-tasting laboratory experiments could doco-founder him or his body justice. The problem: fake, artificial, and processed ingredients. In 2010, he partnered with his wife and fellow athlete to craft an easily-digestible bar that sustained his body for hours.
What initially triggered the urge to enter the energy bar business? After I finished my MBA, I started to train with the idea that I was going to compete at a professional level in triathlons, exercising a whole bunch and eating 5,000 to 6,000 calories per day. But I was having a bunch of stomach issues. My wife, Lauren Fleshman, who is a professional distance runner, decided to create an energy bar that would solve my stomach issues: a gluten and dairy-free bar that used real food ingredients. She and her friend Steph Bruce, another professional distance runner, started making stuff in the kitchen and came up with what we now call a Picky Bar. I got involved to help them establish the basics of the business, but it wasn’t a business when we started, we were just doing it for fun. I think that’s one of the things that have made it what it’s become. History behind the name? It’s really basic. We are all so picky about the ingredients and we’re all such picky eaters. We wanted a natural, sports performance bar that also tasted good without gluten, dairy, or any of the difficult allergens. Picky bars for picky eaters is how it was born, and we just thought it sounded fun. What’s the best time of day for a Picky Bar? So there are two great purposes for a Picky Bar. Anything in and around exercise because it has a balanced 4:1 carbs-toprotein ratio and easily digestible fats. But it’s also a super fulfilling snack between meals. It’s sweet enough that it tastes good, but it’s not so sugary. You don’t feel like you need to eat 12 of them and it doesn’t create a craving.
BEND BEND BEND
BARS BARS
How do you select ingredient suppliers? We start with the question: “What’s your ideal?” It’s highquality, it’s local, it’s organic. Then we ask how realistic that is given what resources are available and what price we have to pay. It’s a constant balancing act. It’s about local, organic, and high-quality ingredients. When that doesn’t all match up, we have to widen our reach and look elsewhere.
What’s your favorite outdoor place in the state of Oregon? The Deschutes River trail. I grew up in Bend running the trails here and that just feels like home to me; I mean it is home to me in a number of different ways, not only physically but spiritually. You’re an accomplished triathlete. What are you still chasing? My plan for the next few years—probably the remainder of my career—would be to race the Ironman World Championships in Kona. I’d like to win the hardest races in the world. I don’t necessarily mean “most competitive,” just the coolest, craziest courses. The sport is as much about adventure as it is about competing, and I’d love to go find the coolest adventures that exist in racing and go try to win those races and build my career as somebody who’s gone out, taken on those challenges, and done well.
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YOUR BACKCOUNTRY GEAR TOY STORE.
backcountrygear.com Mon - Thurs 11 - 7 Fri: Sat 11 - 6 Sun: 12 - 5 1855 W. 2nd Ave Eugene, Oregon, 97402
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ne morning in midNovember, Chloe and I rose before dawn and set off down the Cascade Lakes Highway to take some photos. The onset of freezing temperatures and snowfall had urged us to take advantage of this beautiful scenic byway in Central Oregon before seasonal closures. When we arrived at Sparks Lake, a layer of ice had already formed at the surface. I was busy taking pictures of the frozen landscape from the shoreline, but Chloe ventured out onto the lake. I gingerly followed her and crouched down carefully to snap this photo. The ice was cracking a little bit, but Sparks Lake is pretty shallow and it was only about a foot deep at this section. We made sure to test each step before committing our weight to it. PHOTO BY ADAM MCKIBBEN
Camera: Sony A7 Lens: Rokinon 14mm F/2.8 Focal Length: 14mm Shutter Speed: 1/8 SEC Aperture: F/16 ISO: 100
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