sOccket: The World’s Game

Most of us living the mantra “work hard, play hard”, are constantly releasing kinetic energy.  Here at 12A Funston you might see Devon bolt out the door around one o’clock, just in time to run off some steam and avoid a mid-afternoon melt down, Gordon hurriedly strap on his boots to cycle up to Marin in time for rugby practice, or me stumble in late, salty from the surf or trails.  Imagine if we could harness all this energy, or a fraction of it, and make it work in return? Enter the sOccket.

The sOccket is the brainchild of four female Harvard engineering graduates/undergrads that have joined forces to create a soccer ball that captures the energy you exert from kicking, dribbling, and throwing during play and stores it for later use.  Currently in the prototyping stages, the sOccket is being developed to supply people indeveloping nations a “cheap, clean, simple, off-grid energy solution that is available for immediate use”.  Not only will the sOccket alleviate the need for people living in rural areas to walk for hours to charge their cell phones, but this sort of clean power has the potential to reduce the need for kerosene lamps that more than 1 billion people rely on to light their homes.  Kerosene accounts for more respiratory infections and child deaths than AIDS or malaria in developing nations, thus sOccket is a life saver as well!

Clearly the sOccket could be a widely impacting invention, but it will also offer well-off consumers an opportunity to buy or donate a commodity that will be appreciated by people everywhere.  As the ‘Hahvid’ kids get the beta version rolled out for the children who really need it, everyone should know that they do plan on creating a high-end sOccket for purchase in the U.S. and Europe.  My guess is that some of the proceeds will go to distributing more of them where they are needed; so keep your juggling skills sharp and wait for more buzz on the sOccket.

Outdoor Retailer or bust!

Outdoor Retailer is my favorite holiday.  I am fully aware that OR is not an actual holiday, but it’s one of those special times of the year where I am surrounded by die-hard gearheads and the newest innovations in a  splendid microcosm of outdoor enthusiasts.

For me, it’s better than Christmas.  OR even makes my List-of-Things-I’m-Thankful-For at Thanksgiving Dinner.  Seriously.  I think I may have been made to walk that expo floor, dive head first into textile conversations and amino acid debates.  The smell of recycled nylon tents, the whoosh of avalanche barrier backpacks, and the reflection of big city lights of the newest polarized beauties – forget sugar and spice – these are the things little girls are made of.

This year, I had had bragging rights.  I made the OR Daily- TWICE.   That’s right, gentlemen.  Line up and take note.  The way to a woman’s heart is through legit camping gear and a passion to kayak, climb, surf and ski. (It helps if you can cook, too.  Just sayin’…)

Devon modeling the (hottaction) GoLite 1-Season Quilt

I loved “modeling” (sans makeup and sleep) for GoLite.  Their gear makes anyone look good, so I jumped at the chance.

I was so honored to see the GoLite team (Dana, Kim and Coup) show up for the Outdoor Industries Women’s Coalition Awards Banquet.  I was honored with this year’s First Ascent Award which “recognizes a junior level female with a notable commitment to leadership. This award presents a platform for the OIWC to nurture and support the industry’s next female leaders.”

OIWC First Ascent Award

Thank you to Kelly and Gordon for such heartfelt nominations.  The OIWC had planned a lovely awards ceremony for Wink and I.  I had family and friends fly in for the event, too.  Kelly made an incredible speech, which she delivered beautifully.  (She had me crying before I even got on stage to accept the award. )

I don’t know if it can top Winter Outdoor Retailer, but I’m already counting down the days until the summer show!

-Devon

GoLite Reflexion or Go home

It’s been a terrific week. After a long journey of split seams, mud smudges, T-bar torn armpits, and happy hour stains, I’ve found my life partner. As a lifelong hoodie devotee it was a stretch to think that a jacket could offer the same loungability as a sweatshirt, but GoLite truly has me enamored. The McKenzie Reflexion Softshell is not only super versatile, but is light on the lbs., stylish, and created mainly from recycled materials. To say I’m stoked is an understatement; the ATF team can attest that it’s been a challenge to get me to remove this jacket from the moment I put it on.

In the past I hated wearing jackets for anything other than snow sports because the overall bulkiness and lack of ventilation drove me crazy. The Reflexion Softshell has given me new perspective as it is proving to be a masterpiece of function and comfort. The soft polyester liner coupled with aluminum coating makes this jacket extremely cozy considering its lightweight feel.  It fits snugly enough to keep warmth in, but is relaxed enough to allow for layering on those frigid February days.

One of my favorite features of this jacket is the extended taper on top of the wrists. For those of you out there who enjoy powder as much as I do and have a tendency to spend an abundance of time head first in snow banks, the extra length ensures a secure glove to jacket fit. There is nothing worse than frozen wrists on the mountain. Another highlight I found was the separation between the hood and collar. The hood doesn’t restrict head movement and is compatible with any type of helmet. An extra bonus is the inner pocket for your ipod and stash pocket on the sleeve.

So, as I sit in my heatless apartment, you can rest assured that the Reflexion and I are plotting our winter trysts with a vengeance. Bring on the deep snow of the Sierras, the brutal fog on the Lost Coast, or a serious pond hockey escape on the lakes on New England- my little green friend and I are ready for a challenge.

Content Crisis

What happens when a planned article drops out of Competitor Magazine?  If you’re OutsidePR president Gordon Wright, you get an emergency email from Bob Babbitt, complete with a mini-interview for the monthly feature called “I’m a Competitor.”  Babbitt is not only Gordon’s rabbi/Mafia Uncle, he’s also his boss and client when Gordon writes for Competitor or the Muddy Buddy newsletter.

Which is what led to this faintly embarassing article.  But if Bob calls, he gets what he wants.  Note the shameless client plugs (click following link) – Gordon

Superstar Gordon[1]

A Return To Adventure

After spending much of the years from 1998 to 2007 ridiculously devoted to adventure racing, I’ve slacked off.  Part of it was natural burnout; part of it was my bout with double pneumonia in January/February ‘07.  I still have a patch of dead lung in my lower left lobe from that awful experience, and the diminishment in my fitness is something I haven’t really overcome since.

And I’ve had fun farting around with other stuff.  My first ultra was amazing, and to place 35th in the North Face 50K far exceeded my expectations.  The Ride & Tie World Championships were the most fun I’ve ever had competing in anything, and though our finish was mediocre, I still got a check.  My first competitive open water swim?  Awesomely fun, and a better time than I deserve in swimming from Angel Island to Tiburon in under 40 minutes.

But all of these fun events share a theme: I wasn’t really, really competitive in them.  Not close to top-tier.  And while I don’t consider myself a great endurance athlete, it chafed just a bit; not enough for me to really train hard and get in serious shape, but I kind of missed racing hard.

So when Adam Chase, a Boulder tax attorney and SERIOUS endurance athlete (he’s the Trail Running Team Manager for Salomon) asked me to race in the Urban Oyster adventure race, I didn’t hesitate.  I was just masochistic enough to want to race with Adam.  I didn’t train for it, but at least I knew that I’d be flying.

I got to swim too

Adam kept calling with insider tips on how we could win; on how this team or that was recruiting this and such athlete and how some checkpoint clues might be divined by really studying the websites of the race’s sponsors.  I kept telling him the truth: he’d have to haul my ass around the course to even stay remotely competitive.  Our teammate was equally scary: Tamara Lave was an All-American runner in college and represented the United States at the 1993 IAAF World Championships in marathon.  I was going to get my ass kicked not once, but twice.

But sometimes you just have a performance you didn’t expect.  Maybe it was the return to a competitive environment with which I’m comfortable.  Maybe it was this particular course, with its short legs, an emphasis on speed over endurance and local knowledge being paramount.  Or maybe it was the fact that Tamara doesn’t really know how to ride a bike (“Adam!  How do you make it easier to pedal?”), which gave me time to recover from our blistering run segments.

But we flat stomped this thing.  Third place in our division, fourth overall.  105 teams and we got the cowbell to show for it.  It’s really, really fun to go fast.

Three thumbs up to the Merrill/Urban Oyster Crew.  I’d poo-pooed urban races — this was my first one, such was my disdain — but it was wall-to-wall fun.  Especially the beer tasting.

Watch for an upcoming issue of Competitor Magazine for more in-depth reporting.

Gordon

Gearing Up for the Fall

As the sun makes haste towards the southern hemisphere and the days get progressively shorter, I set my sights on easing into the best time of the year. No matter if you are on the east coast enjoying the first of the changing leaves under crisp blue skies, or out west where things tend to stay warm but the days take on a subtle perfection, this time of year calls for celebration. Breathe in that autumn air and prepare for the plentiful outdoor playing opportunities. Here’s why I say falling down is better.

Falling In. As a surfer, I am ecstatic that the doldrums of summer have departed and the swell is finally here (last week I broke yet another board while getting too amped on the inside). The water is still warm, so there are no excuses to shy away. For those of us who enjoy our favorite spots when they allow for some quite introspection, capitalize on the departure of the summer crowds.  I myself will make the most of the tranquility of fall by pairing a few camping trips with my surf sessions. Hop in your kayak, cast off you’re your sailboat, or find a river for your innertube; it’s time to get wet.

Falling into a Groove. For those of us who will be exploring locally, you can’t go wrong checking one of the lively outdoor events which are in abundance during the fall. From fairs to concerts, there is a ho-down in your neighborhood. I will be letting my inner hillbilly out at the world famous (and free!) Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco (October 2-4). Just a few festivals worth checking out this October:

The Austin City Limits Festival (aclfestival.com/) Austin, TX

The Blue Mountain Bluegrass Festival (www.bluemtnmusic.com/index.html) Collinsville, VA

Harvestfest 09 Shawnee Cave (www.cavefest.com) Carbondale, IL- a festival in a CAVE!

Three Sisters Music Festival (downtownchattanooga.org/threesisters/) Chattanooga, TN- FREE!

Crescent City Blues & BBQ Festival (www.jazzandheritage.org/blues-fest) New Orleans, LA- FREE!

Catalina Island Festival of World Music (catalinamusicfestival.com/index.asp) Avalon, CA

Just don’t try to out hula-hoop the wookie next to you, you look like an amateur and might pull a hammy.

Falling from Wagons. My next stop undoubtedly involves tasting the best of the season. Whether your downfall is a vicious sweet-tooth or the beginnings of that wintertime beer belly, the fall offers unparalleled palate filling bliss. As a beer fanatic I’m always excited to try a new pumpkin ale or Oktoberfest brew. This season I’m looking forward to tasting a seasonal beer from a great microbrewery which was born just downstream from Mt. St. Helens.

Pyramid Breweries’ Juggernaut Red Ale is described as “an American Red ale brimming with delectable caramel malts, delicious hops and an unquenchable spirit.” Yum, sounds like a winner. So whatever your favorite cuisine may be, take a moment to kick back with friends and family and cheers to the days of falling ahead.

Interbike 2009

Flying into Las Vegas always holds a singular dread: you can see, on the approach to McCarren, the hotels of the Vegas Strip shimmering in the smoky-hot Nevada desert.   You know you’re headed into the belly of the beast; you’re not only in Las Vegas — you’re headed into Vegas as a trade show attendee.  

You’re a mark; a tourist.  One of the babbling, drunken hordes that descend upon this freak of a city plopped in an arid wasteland, and your only functional utility is to spend your money and get out — hopefully with a modicum of dignity and with more than your emergency Andrew Jackson in your wallet with which to remember your stumbling visit.

The long walk from the middle-class lodgings of Treasure Island Casino & Hotel to the showfloor at the Venetian/Sands Expo is long, and confusing.  But the closer to the Interbike floor you get, the more reassured you feel.  A quorum of like-minded folks develop in the human stream of conventioneers.   You see more shaved legs.  You start seeing banners announcing Interbike’s presence, even as you fight through the throngs of Blue Tube ticket seekers.

Maybe you’re not just a mark.  Maybe you’re among your own kind.

Finally, you get to the center of it all.  Bikes appear in glass-enclosed showcases like the go-go dancers found in close proximity.  You’re surrounded by divergent types: tattooed freestyle huckers and sleek-legged roadies, all closing in on the Sands Expo.  But you all share ONE thing: you are all riders.

And when you’re finally in, Las Vegas disappears, and you’re in Biking Nirvana.

Exotic Italian nameplates beckon, their seatstays bowed like melted carbon taffy.  You overhear earnest conversations about seat tube angles.  You engage in lengthy conversations about gear ratios and moisture transfers (of the sweating kind…not the other kind).

You’re at Interbike, and though I wish the trade show was elsewhere….anywhere…Dubuque, or Nashville, or Albuquerque…you’re among your own kind.  And it’s good.   Pretty darned good. 

As long as you stay away from the casinos.

Swim for your life!

I’ve been toying with the thought of entering a Half-Ironman in October — an accomplishment that’s looking increasingly unlikely due to my customary paucity of training.  But last week my dear neighbor Carol flagged me down on our cul-de-sac and asked brightly, “Are you going to do the RCP Tiburon Mile?  I just entered!”

I’d actually been toying with the notion for years.  I grew up in Tiburon, and actually did my (only) two triathlons on Angel Island in 2004 and 2005, so it was immensely appealing.  Without thinking much, I said, “Yeah, that sounds great.  We can carpool!”

Inspired, I went for a 400 meter swim later that afteroon, and swam with the efficacy and grace of a camel.  It’s unlikely I’ll keep up with Carol anyway — she played varsity water polo at Stanford, for God’s sake — but now I’m worried that I’ll wind up halfway to Antioch or have to latch onto some sag kayak.

My editor at Competitor, Bob Babbit, who is actually more like my Mafia uncle than anything, was despairingly enthused when I brought it up to him.  “Drowning, shark attacks — I love that stuff!  Get me 1800 words!”

My last option out was the prospect of not getting a media entry, as I’ve become violently allergic to entry fees.  No luck: the event manager was the skilled and welcoming Christine Wilson, and she didn’t hesitate to sign me up.

So on Sept. 13th, I’ll be bobbing around the Bay in my wetsuit, with my surfboard nowhere in sight.  I’ll try to report back on the results, but I’m definitely not expecting a belt buckle, much less a prize check.

Gore-Tex TransRockies Prep

I’m originally from Florida.  Before moving to California, I believed that “altitude” was basically anything on or above the second floor.

In preparation for the 2009 Gore-Tex TransRockies Run (which starts this weekend!), I decided to do some trail running and took on California’s Mount Diablo.   My altitude training, before Diablo, has entirely consisted of the cool, stunning and rolling hills of the Marin Headlands.   That being said, running Diablo was a huge wake up call.

along the trail

Low on water in 100 degree heat, swarmed by bees and horse flies, and out of Roctane,  I reconsidered my decision to trail run a mountain named after the devil.  I honestly felt like I was in hell.

Finally!

It took me a little over two hours to get to the top.  I refilled on water, nursed my wounds, took some photos and bolted back down towards my car.  16 miles, almost 4,000 feet in elevation and some serious sun poisoning later, I was back down to the Floridian comfort zone – sea level.

I drove back to SF hysterically laughing.   Mt. Diablo’s elevation is a joke compared to the roaring 12,000 foot peaks we’ll face in the Gore-Tex TransRockies Run.

It’s going to a grueling race.  But, in its third year, its one of the most well-respected and best-supported stage races in the world.  I couldn’t be more excited for such a tough endeavor.  Needless to say, if the elevation doesn’t take my breathe away, the views surely will.

Off to Denver in the morning!

The Best Exercise Partner

They don’t talk back.  They love you unconditionally.  They will go as slow or as fast you want.  They will hang back or be in front of you and never complain.

The best running/hiking/walking/backcountry skiing partner you can have, man’s best friend, a dog.  You can listen to your iPod or your own thoughts, the dog doesn’t care.

There is noting better than exercising with your dog.  You can hear the heavy panting, the pitter patter of the paws or the slurping from the stream along the trail.  At the end of the day the dog was always there for you.  There are endless stories about dogs saving their owners lives in the backcountry.  But on a daily basis their pure companionship saves much more.