Monday, November 12, 2012
Thursday, November 8, 2012
What I've been drinking
First off, happy International Stout Day!
Here's what's been holding me over as we transition into a season of porters, stouts, dark ales, spiced beers, and imperial fill- in- the- blanks:
New Belgium's Trippel is a nice looking beer, and has the smooth mouthfeel of the style. It starts off sweet and fruity and has a spicy finish with a hint of hops. There is a bit of heat from the alcohol. Totally quaffable, but be careful. The 7.8 abv will catch up with you quickly.
New Belgium's Ranger IPA is good, but unremarkable. Plenty of citrus and pine flavors and light on the malt. Very drinkable; a perfect BBQ beer. It's a summer IPA, if that makes any sense.
And then there was Sam Adam's Octoberfest. Meh. It doesn't help that I've never been a huge fan of the style, but this brew was just a little too sweet even for a Marzen. It went down well enough with these sausages though.
Their Scwarzbier, on the other hand, is phenomenal. It has the flavors of a good porter without the heaviness of a porter. I will be picking this up again.
Finally, the Trois Pistoles Unibroue (Quebec). I'm crazy for Belgian beers these days, quite a change from where my tastes were just a year ago. This is a Beligian strong ale, and at 9% abv, its a sipper or you'll be sorry. We have an explosion of flavors here: cherry and other dark fruits, chocolate, cloves, roastiness. Warming alcohol underneath. Sweet as expected, but manages to stay crisp.
Cheers!
Here's what's been holding me over as we transition into a season of porters, stouts, dark ales, spiced beers, and imperial fill- in- the- blanks:
New Belgium's Trippel is a nice looking beer, and has the smooth mouthfeel of the style. It starts off sweet and fruity and has a spicy finish with a hint of hops. There is a bit of heat from the alcohol. Totally quaffable, but be careful. The 7.8 abv will catch up with you quickly.
New Belgium's Ranger IPA is good, but unremarkable. Plenty of citrus and pine flavors and light on the malt. Very drinkable; a perfect BBQ beer. It's a summer IPA, if that makes any sense.
And then there was Sam Adam's Octoberfest. Meh. It doesn't help that I've never been a huge fan of the style, but this brew was just a little too sweet even for a Marzen. It went down well enough with these sausages though.
Their Scwarzbier, on the other hand, is phenomenal. It has the flavors of a good porter without the heaviness of a porter. I will be picking this up again.
Finally, the Trois Pistoles Unibroue (Quebec). I'm crazy for Belgian beers these days, quite a change from where my tastes were just a year ago. This is a Beligian strong ale, and at 9% abv, its a sipper or you'll be sorry. We have an explosion of flavors here: cherry and other dark fruits, chocolate, cloves, roastiness. Warming alcohol underneath. Sweet as expected, but manages to stay crisp.Cheers!
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Monday, November 5, 2012
Turkey and Taturs
I spent a beautiful Sunday morning working the parking lot aid station at Turkey and Taturs; my first time watching a race unfold from the other side of the pretzels and gatorade. It actually was a pleasure to watch the race and talk to the runners passing through. Daniel Ellis killed it in the 50k race. He set a new course record at 4:15; very impressive to those who know the terrain.
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Saturday, November 3, 2012
Fire in the Osage Hills
When it comes to Fall foliage, you can't beat New England with its climatic peaks of fiery color. And yet Eastern Oklahoma offers a certain charm in a unpredictable and haphazard way. You will be surprised by little pockets of bright color in a sea of lingering green and dead brown. Take two Cottonwoods by the Arkansas: one will be deep summer green while her sister turns to gold. From Tulsa, the oak covered Osage hills to the North appear to be a drab maroon, but ride up into them and you will find many of the hidden hollows covered in blood red, yellow and orange.
Monday, October 29, 2012
2012 Tulsa Run
Over nine thousand braved the cold for the 35th annual Tulsa Run on Saturday. Megan signed up for the 5k race, her first since Sophie entered the picture over a year ago.
One of us managed to stay warm while waiting at the finishing chute.
Her goal was to finish, and she goes and sets a PR! Way to go Megan!
One of us managed to stay warm while waiting at the finishing chute.
Her goal was to finish, and she goes and sets a PR! Way to go Megan!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Pumpkin Holler 50k (10/20/12)
The surrounding hills came into relief against the pale glow of dawn. Wisps of mist hung over the river. Eddie Vedder was on the radio and the adrenaline was flowing. There's nothing like that pre- race feeling, especially when you have no idea what to expect.
I pulled off the highway into the bustling campground. It was a cold, frosty morning. I quickly packed my hydration belt with a few bags of Gu Chomps and the camera. After catching a few photos of the river, I joined a crowd gathering around a campfire. Hundred- milers organized and labeled their gear for the drop bags. Small talk commences: how far are you running, is this your first time, what an unusual pre- race music selection, what in the world are we doing here, etc. I try to be social but my mind is somewhere on the miles of road that lay ahead.
The starting line was packed with 100- milers, 100- kers and 50kers, all leaving at 8. We ran out of the campground and crossed the old metal bridge. If you've ever been on a float trip on the Illinois East of Tahlequah, chances are you've passed under this one.
Once over the river we began the thirty mile loop of the beautiful Pumpkin Holler course. The roads were not quite what I expected. I had envisioned dirt or fine gravel; these roads were covered with loose nuggets and rocks. Not that I'm complaing; give me rocks over pavement anyday. There were plenty of visual distractions in these early miles: an old wooden clapboard Church and other abandoned structures; views of the river and surrounding bluffs; climbs up into thickly wooded hills. I felt great and kept a steady ten minute pace.
At mile twelve or so I ran and chatted with Marlin from Norman for a bit. He was doing the 50k after completing the Wichita Marathon last weekend! Marlin told me about the Marathon Maniacs, of which he is a member. I might of said something about how the hills weren't so bad, words I would be eating soon enough.
At around thirteen miles the course follows the Pumpkin Holler Road, easily my favorite part of the day. The road follows a long and narrow valley in the hills for miles. The valley floor is hayfield and horse pasture with hills of oak and pine rising like walls on either side. An echanted refuge from modern civilization if there ever was one. Who lives out here, I wondered: well- off hobby farmers from the city, multi- generational families, hobbits?
After snapping a few photos that failed to do the landscape justice, I decided to put the camera away for good. I found it hard to get the shots that I strive for and remained focused on the task at hand. To get a better idea of how beautiful the course is, go here.
Somewhere on the one stretch of paved road (mile 18 or so) I began to experience fatigue in the legs and my left knee flared up. By the time I reached the bathtub rocks crossing it was moving from uncomfortable to painful. I suspect that my knee took a beating when my exhausted quads could no longer absorb the pounding. One of the trade offs for cutting back on training mileage, I guess.
If my legs began to protest around the bathtub rocks, my mind began check out after the last aid station. Those were the longest, toughest three miles I've ever run. The climbs were fine, but anything with at least one degree of downgrade hurt like hell. I walked quite a bit on this stretch and swore every-time I rounded a bend and didn't see that damn bridge.
"That's crazy, I could never do that," is a common response if you share with someone that you ran a 50k. After they ask you how many miles it is, of course. With the metal bridge finally in view, I was passed by a couple of guys who looked like they were out for an easy training run. I greeted them and said "almost there". They looked at me kind of funny and mumbled a vague acknowledgement. Found out later that they were 100- milers. Two more loops for them. "Damn, I thought, that's crazy." I could never do that, or could I?
Not that I'll find out anytime soon. I felt proud of my 5:38 finish, but I like how there's plenty of room for improvement at this distance. Small things that I can tweak in my training and execution that will probably make a big difference.
I stuck around long enough to chat with some of the other finishers and go for a refreshing dip in the cold Illinois. I wish I could have helped out, but family responsibilities brought me back to Tulsa by mid- afternoon. Props to TZ for putting on a truly exceptional race, one that I will be looking forward to next year.
I pulled off the highway into the bustling campground. It was a cold, frosty morning. I quickly packed my hydration belt with a few bags of Gu Chomps and the camera. After catching a few photos of the river, I joined a crowd gathering around a campfire. Hundred- milers organized and labeled their gear for the drop bags. Small talk commences: how far are you running, is this your first time, what an unusual pre- race music selection, what in the world are we doing here, etc. I try to be social but my mind is somewhere on the miles of road that lay ahead.
The starting line was packed with 100- milers, 100- kers and 50kers, all leaving at 8. We ran out of the campground and crossed the old metal bridge. If you've ever been on a float trip on the Illinois East of Tahlequah, chances are you've passed under this one.
Once over the river we began the thirty mile loop of the beautiful Pumpkin Holler course. The roads were not quite what I expected. I had envisioned dirt or fine gravel; these roads were covered with loose nuggets and rocks. Not that I'm complaing; give me rocks over pavement anyday. There were plenty of visual distractions in these early miles: an old wooden clapboard Church and other abandoned structures; views of the river and surrounding bluffs; climbs up into thickly wooded hills. I felt great and kept a steady ten minute pace.
At mile twelve or so I ran and chatted with Marlin from Norman for a bit. He was doing the 50k after completing the Wichita Marathon last weekend! Marlin told me about the Marathon Maniacs, of which he is a member. I might of said something about how the hills weren't so bad, words I would be eating soon enough.
At around thirteen miles the course follows the Pumpkin Holler Road, easily my favorite part of the day. The road follows a long and narrow valley in the hills for miles. The valley floor is hayfield and horse pasture with hills of oak and pine rising like walls on either side. An echanted refuge from modern civilization if there ever was one. Who lives out here, I wondered: well- off hobby farmers from the city, multi- generational families, hobbits?
After snapping a few photos that failed to do the landscape justice, I decided to put the camera away for good. I found it hard to get the shots that I strive for and remained focused on the task at hand. To get a better idea of how beautiful the course is, go here.
Somewhere on the one stretch of paved road (mile 18 or so) I began to experience fatigue in the legs and my left knee flared up. By the time I reached the bathtub rocks crossing it was moving from uncomfortable to painful. I suspect that my knee took a beating when my exhausted quads could no longer absorb the pounding. One of the trade offs for cutting back on training mileage, I guess.
If my legs began to protest around the bathtub rocks, my mind began check out after the last aid station. Those were the longest, toughest three miles I've ever run. The climbs were fine, but anything with at least one degree of downgrade hurt like hell. I walked quite a bit on this stretch and swore every-time I rounded a bend and didn't see that damn bridge.
"That's crazy, I could never do that," is a common response if you share with someone that you ran a 50k. After they ask you how many miles it is, of course. With the metal bridge finally in view, I was passed by a couple of guys who looked like they were out for an easy training run. I greeted them and said "almost there". They looked at me kind of funny and mumbled a vague acknowledgement. Found out later that they were 100- milers. Two more loops for them. "Damn, I thought, that's crazy." I could never do that, or could I?
Not that I'll find out anytime soon. I felt proud of my 5:38 finish, but I like how there's plenty of room for improvement at this distance. Small things that I can tweak in my training and execution that will probably make a big difference.
I stuck around long enough to chat with some of the other finishers and go for a refreshing dip in the cold Illinois. I wish I could have helped out, but family responsibilities brought me back to Tulsa by mid- afternoon. Props to TZ for putting on a truly exceptional race, one that I will be looking forward to next year.
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