WELCOME TO AMES ADVENTURE OUTFITTERS

Ames Adventure Outfitters is a Manufacturers' Representative for top quality indoor & outdoor clothing and equipment, water proofing supplies, packs, tents, solar and monitoring devices, trail running, approach, and mountaineering shoes/boots, socks, and other accessories. The manufacturing firms that we represent consistently offer merchandise that leads the industry in new technology and are regularly awarded accordingly. It is our belief that outstanding customer service and integrity in all business transactions are essential for long term success in this industry. Spend some time at the site getting to know us and our product lines.  We look forward to working with you!


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Freeheelers Raise the Bar at the 5th Annual Big Mtn. Comp

Story by Paul Kimbrough, photos by @teleskiermag / @joshnomadsen  With a new 3-day structure and good weather roughly 80 telemarkers put on a wild display on Grand Targhee’s Peaked venues. Snowy skies and good visibility greeted the juniors for Friday’s junior qualifying day and the nearly 40 contestants age 11-18 got two runs to impress the […]

Read more from: Athletes,Blogs,On The Road

Riding Cancer into the Ground

Riding to work - phto by U of C photographer

I woke up at the usual time, 5:30 AM, on the morning of my last radiation treatment for prostate cancer.

It had been a long haul; from diagnosis of the most aggressive form of what is more typically a slow-growing cancer in October 2011, to surgery in November. Then started the 38 radiation treatments: five days a week for two months during the summer of 2012. I had asked my radiation oncologist, Dr. Stanley Liauw at the University Of Chicago Medicine Comprehensive Cancer Center, if I would able to ride my bike to every treatment. It was a 44-mile round-trip from my home in Evanston, a northern suburb along Lake Michigan, to the Cancer Center in the Hyde Park neighborhood on Chicago’s South side.

“Well,” Stan said, “we’ll see how you feel about halfway through.”

He was right, of course. About halfway through – somewhere around treatment #17 or so – I began feeling quite ill. My intestinal tract was suffering side effects from the radiation, leaving me weakened, sick and vulnerable to sudden attacks of – well – never mind. It wasn’t pleasant.

Riding home after my last treatment (my wife took the shot)

The heat and humidity didn’t help. That was the third hottest summer in Chicago recorded history. Many days were above 90° F and four days surpassed 100° accompanied by stifling Chicago summer humidity.

My daily plan was to leave home early enough to give me time to cool off a bit before my 8:30 AM radiation appointment, then ride back north nine miles to my downtown Chicago office, put in a few hours of work, and ride the rest of the way home in the evening. In reality, some days I was simply too sick to go to the office, so I just rode straight home from the Cancer Center. On a number of mornings, a friend would join me for the ride down. I was grateful for the company. Most days I rode by myself.

On that morning of my last treatment, I put on my cycling gear, loaded up my computer and clean clothes into my trusty Osprey Talon 22, and went downstairs. I heard some noise on my front lawn. Fourteen friends, neighbors, and my lovely wife were assembled on the lawn with their bikes, waiting to accompany me to my last treatment. Needless to say, I was blown away.

Group shot on lakefront

As we rolled down Chicago’s spectacular lakefront bike path that early morning, another cyclist rode alongside of us and asked, “Is this some kind of organized ride?” My friend, Mitch, responded with great enthusiasm, “We’re going for cancer treatment!” We arrived at the Cancer Center about 7:30 AM and proceeded to have a little party on the lawn. Some folks had made brownies and cookies. At about 8:15 AM, we said our good-byes and I went inside for my last treatment. I had ridden 1,700 miles, to and from radiation treatments. I had also decided to raise some money for my doctor, Stanley Liauw. Friends and family chipped in $15,000 to aid in his three major research projects, looking for new and more effective ways to treat a variety of cancers.

I’m now two-and-a-half years out with no signs of cancer. I ride to work just about every day, regardless of the weather. And I just replaced my 12-year-old Talon 22 with a new one.

 


 

Me with my trusty Talon 22 - photo by U of C photographer

Pat Navin is more at home on two wheels than he is on his own two feet. When not riding his bike, he co-leads Inverse Marketing in Chicago, a B-to-B marketing firm that specializes in thinking backwards. (It’s not as complicated as it sounds.) He also is dreaming up new ways to support the important research of his radiation oncologist, Dr. Stanley Liauw. Pat’s commuter bike and his original Osprey pack have more than 50,000 miles on them. Those miles include a number of hard crashes and many grueling winter miles on Chicago’s slushy, salty streets. His original Talon 22 is being retired to his Wall of Fame.Trusty Talon 22

Read more from: Blogs,On The Road

Adventure Into the Unknown with Chris Davenport

At the heart of any adventurer is the courage to take a leap into the unknown, to explore far and wide, and to set out to achieve what no man or woman has done before. Three such adventurers call themselves the Centennial Skiers, and they fit this bill quite perfectly. Throughout their home of Colorado resides […]

Read more from: Athletes,Blogs,On The Road

A Busby Yurt Raising

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The weekend we raised our yurt this past summer was one of the most wild experiences of my life. Post-weekend, my knuckles were swollen, I would wake up nightly to unconsciously scratching of mosquito bites on my legs, and I had a handful of cuts and bruises that lasted a few weeks. But at the end of the day, we had a yurt!

The whole experience was, for the most part, smooth. It was challenging — yes. It was time consuming. But it was fun! And it was rad that we had friends come out and help with various parts of the raising. From hands-on help from the start, to homemade mojitos and jalapeño poppers mid-day, borrowed tools and a trailer, responses to frantic text messages… all the kindness from our support network here in Montana was slightly overwhelming.

For one, I learned that yurts are totally beginner friendly. With a little common sense and planning ahead, I really think anyone can do it. Our advantage came from first disassembling the yurt from the woman we purchased it from, and then building it back up again.

Initially, we called Hayes, the owner of Shelter Designs in Missoula, and asked him if we could hire him for the yurt raising, as the yurt we purchased was a Shelter Designs yurt. There are a lot of moving parts, and Hayes is a great crowd organizer… he knows what needs to get done. Obviously, he does this for a living. When Sean asked him, Hayes basically said (paraphrasing here), “I’m pretty busy this summer, but I think you guys can handle it. I’ll send you a DVD.”

I thought… A DVD. Really? What are we doing here, baking cookies or building a house?

But when we actually watched the DVD, we knew Hayes was right. It explained everything from start to finish, with super detailed instructions—exactly the things he would have been telling us had he been here. So we would do a few tasks on the yurt, and then watch some DVD on a laptop… go back to yurt stuff, have lunch, and watch a little more DVD. That got us through it. That DVD was the key to building our yurt.

Here are a few shots from the big day. Arranging the windows, doorways and lattice walls:

Our buddy Mikey, placing the tension cable through the tops of the lattice walls:

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The cable is made to fit our 30-foot yurt EXACTLY. Thus, it takes a bit of time to wiggle it through the lattice walls perfectly enough for this hook to actually lock.

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Brandon, Sean and Mikey, prepping to lift that ring (at their feet) above their heads and start placing the beams, which connect to the outer lattice walls. This is the most dangerous part of a yurt raising… those beams are heavy!

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A nervous smile from me on the ground. My job was to run around the yurt like a crazy woman, handing the guys one end of a beam, and placing the other end of the beam on the cable in the precise spot. Luckily, we only had a few tense moments, one of which involved a beam nailing me in the arm. I had a massive bruise to show for that one.

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Until the first five (maybe six) beams are up, it’s super tense because someone always has to be holding that ring up (which weighs a ton). It was a lot of arms-over-the-head action for those guys.

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Once the beams are in, it’s fun to put on the white lining (1st layer) and the insulation (2nd layer). Although, we were pretty lucky the sun was behind a cloud during this part… that insulation is like one big sun screen!

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Here was the HARDEST part of the day. Even harder than putting in the beams. That crescent roll up there is the outer canvas of the yurt and it weighs a million pounds. Maybe not a million, but it sure seemed like it. It took 4 of us to hoist it up to the scaffolding, and then a lot of grunting and groaning to get it out of the center ring and onto the roof. I won’t even go into the madness involved with trying to spread that thing out around the yurt. Again, if you’re building a NEW yurt, your canvas comes nice and folded — like, the size of a sleeping bag — and you roll it down easily over a designated opening. With ours? It was a bit of a jumble to get it looking good. It took us about three hours on just on this part.

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And after getting the top on, we had to then put on the side insulation panels and the side canvas panels. They were heavy, but nowhere near as heavy as the top. This part was also difficult because our yurt is so high off the ground, and we had to use lean-to ladders (as opposed to the A-frame ladders) to get as high as the top. Eventually, we splurged and bought a 12-foot ladder — which is KEY for 30-foot yurt maintenance.

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Then there was the dome, being pulled up the outside to the top:

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And then, behold the yurt in all her glory after the final pieces of the structure were on! All in all, these steps took us 1.5 days to complete. Yes, it’s THAT easy!

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Sean & Mollie Busby are Osprey Packs Ambassadors. Sean is a professional backcountry snowboarder. In 2004, while training for the 2010 Olympics, Sean endured a complicated diagnosis of type 1 diabetes. Considering leaving snowboarding all together, Sean was inspired by reading stories of kids living with T1D that inspired him to keep living his dreams. He founded Riding On Insulin, a nonprofit, to honor all the kids who inspired him to keep living. In February 2014, Sean became the first person with T1D to backcountry snowboard all seven continents at the age of 29 in 2014. Mollie Busby graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Madison with degrees in Journalism and Retail. A series of life-changing events brought Mollie and Sean together in February 2010, and after five months, Mollie moved west. The pair was married in September, 2011 and now resides in a 30-foot yurt with their dogs, Daisy and Glacier, in Whitefish, Montana. For more, visit Two Sticks and a Board online, or follow Sean and Mollie on Instagram.

Read more from: Blogs,On The Road