For the first 10 days after getting home from the Grand Canyon I sat around and did nothing physical, except taking a few walks around town. Energy was low and everything was a bit sore, with knees and achilles being particularly creaky. There is no way to shortcut this process; when your body needs to rest it needs to do exactly that, plans and ambitions be damned.

To that end I’ve been slowly returning to normal training in the past week. I’ve done a bit of skiing, and some rinky-dink hiking and rafting, investigating the progress of spring and trying to find some turkeys before the season opens next week.

I’ve got a fantastic base to put to use in the Bob Open, so the next step is shaping that with intervals during the week, and some big trips on the weekends. The next seven weeks is a lot of time, but it certainly isn’t too much.

The other, equally important, aspect of this plan is psychological recovery. Attending to work and projects, spending time with M and with friends, and enjoying the smaller things. Like really good beer.

The Fire and Blood is pretty good if you can find a bottle, while the Hennepin remains an all-time great.

Right now it’s snowing outside.  The rivers have been slowly rising all week.  South-facing stuff is melting out, while even the lowest elevation forests are still stuffed with nasty, crusty, slushy snow.  Some call it mud season, and travel south or stay home.  I call it spring in the north, where even the simplest routes are taxing, and no one seems to out but me and the animals.  I’ve come to really like April in May in Montana.