M.O.A.B. 2010

Finishing my 5th day in class at 6:30, my brain was like spaghetti and I needed a break. I needed to ditch Provo like a pair of worn out knickers, so I sat heavy on the gas down I-15 past the windmills, and headed for route 6, bearing west-southwest and towards the desert.

says it all..

First night at the Aarchway Inn, I was glad to get a bed, any bed. Even one that was behind a triple lock (didn't bode well). The morning sun on the red Moab rocks outside my window confirmed my doubts about the "hotel", asI had to sidestep someones throwup by the front door, and again outside the front door.
Poison Spider bike shop set me up with a sweet ride, Trek Rumblefish 29er, brandy new, all set with bottles, repair kit and slimed tires. As well as the regular credit card info, I had to give them the make and model of the rental car, my height and weight, and let them know which trails I would be riding. While I first thought that the cute shopgirl was hitting on me, I realized then they were just taking the necessary precautions for when solo riders like myself blow into town with the tumbleweeds at the end of season. The wanted to get the bike back from the desert, and presumably, me with it.  As I was filling the requisite forms and proving my helmet was actually with me, a couple waltzed to the counter and began arguing, eyerolling and huffing as the mandatory helmet-speech was given..I wanted to hand the dumb asses a recent "brain sprain" article from Dirtrag magazine, but just gave a knowing eye to the shopgirl and rolled out of the store.

sinead and shadow, my only company

Back on Amasa Back

Colorado green, 1000 feet down..

Fun fun fun, 3 hours on Amasa back, lunch in town, then greedy mountain bike pig that I am, out onto Slickrock for the end of the day, another 3 hours.

yep, I rode this..

yes this too..

Amasa back is one of the alltime favorite rides in Moab, technical but rideable, especially with my new friend Rumblefish..the full suspension 29er almost feels like cheating, just eating up the nasty climbs, bouncing smoothly over ledges, and giving me the "cojones" to tackle terrain that I was a wee bit hesitant to manage (solo, in the desert, on rocks, edges of cliffs...)

follow the dots home...

Arriving at Slickrock late in the afternoon, there were only 3 cars in the famed parking lot, with the sun diving towards the colorado river. I rode conservatively, getting my brain used to the mind-game of sticking to rock at obscene angles, and clearing all kinds of slopes that would normally have me walking, whining, and crying.

Brandon, Tyler Rob and ?Tim my LDS buddies

One BIFF tore my elbow open, and I thought my knee cap was fractured. I waited it out, then watched 4 out of the 5 guys behind me all slide back down the rockface at the same point as I had just done.  We commiserated and compared wounds, then rode the rest of the loop together. Just as well this group of polite, clean, well groomed ne'er do well Mormon boys adopted me, as we finished the ride with the stars out over Poison Spider Mesa, and the temperature plummeted 20 degrees to freezing.

leaving Slickrock

Back to my lovely abode, this time no puke, I crashed after a bucket of pasta and salad in one of Moab's main street eateries. 10  hours of zzz's. Joy.

local wildlife (4 feet long, 100lbs..not really)

mountain bike in spring, summer, dirtbike in autumn, winter

Next day on Sovereign trails, communing with the dirtbikers, critters and the wide open landscape, I made my peace with sticky, pointy steep rocks, and thanked whatever for the chance to ride, ride alone, and ride (relatively) unscathed.

local restaurant recipies

Dinner alone at Desert Bistro, I said a silent "grace" to the massive elk burger before I swallowed that puppy, and was truly grateful for a belly full of local meat, and a soulful of bike time. Can't wait to come again in May, wanna join me?

A penny saved is a penny earned BullS***: aka mean people suck

A long morning of getting stiff and chilly while sitting in front of the computer prompted me to warm up outside, in the 19 degree cool air. Dennis and I wrapped up in our winter bomb-proof suits, and started off into the woods. 45' into it, I felt that unmistakable feeling of metal snapping, and shouted ahead to Dennis, "hey, I think my bike is sick, it feels like it is going to break".. so we stopped. He quickly diagnosed a disgusting rear cog, with way too mucky grime accumulating and potentially causing a chain skip. I knew the prognosis was bad, it was much worse than that. As he scraped the layer of oily black gook off with a twig, my rear cog snapped in 2/3 and 1/3 fell off into the dirt. S'funny I was JUST thinking I should swap it out for a x17 tooth insted of the x18 that it is.. and cccrrrack.. there it goes..
I wonder if Chris King will replace it? :)    At 127 lbs, I am not the heftiest rider on their cogs, and it really should withstand more than I have delivered to it, dirty grime an' all. Whatever the outcome, I will definitely be replacing it with the upgrade, a stainless steel version of the x18 gear. Having baulked at the $55 sticker, I had gone with the frugal aluminium option, leaving the SS version for Dennis, 50lbs heavier and much crazier on the bike than little ol' me, and now as I jogged down Old Northwest road in my mountain bike shoes, I regretted every dollar I had saved in the purchase.
As the shiny Landrovers (3) and Rangerovers (2) and BMWs (2) and Lexus (1) passed me (jogging, with my bike, chain dangling, helmet on, quite obviously not riding my bike) I began to realise that either my community is not as friendly as I thought, or I looked, in my helmet, black windproof lycra and bootie covered bikeshoes, like an axe-wielding maniac..Having run 3 miles (at 7.4-7.8 mph) clopping along with my bike in one hand, I got fed up enough to flag a car (Landrover) down, asking the driver (female, blonde, 40's) if I could toss my bike in the trunk and she could give me a ride to the end of Swamp road. She looked in the back seat, told me she COULDN'T, that she had a CHILD in the back.. and drove off.. I can only hope that her child never grows up to be a single woman, standing in the frigid weather with a broken down car.  Clip clopping along, I made it back in 45' or so..Back home, I salvaged the afternoon with a workout on the trainer and a hot cup of Barry's (Irish) Gold Blend tea (thanks Rikki).

musical mountain biking

So last week while taking a friend mountain biking on her new 29er, I noted how well she was doing for a relative newbie. Though a strong triathlete, she had been injured while running, with subsequent surgery and she had spent little time doing much more than swimming, road riding and physical therapy. I commented to Emi, on how well she was handling the twisty singletrack, and managing to get over the roots and small logs. She reminded me that she used to play violin in her not-so-distant youth, and felt that it was similar.. scanning the score ahead while managing to play the tune on demand, sight-reading the trail as it were! Having a (distant) background in flute and recorder, I loved the analogy, and took it with me as Dennis and I rode this warm autumn morning. I have often marvelled how we can ride in synch together, and at this time of year, having not been training very intensively for a couple of months, we are quite close in strength and speed. Since the Vermont 50 race, we still have a 32 x 18 gear set-up, so as we headed out on the blue trail, we rode stroke for stroke, barely an inch between my front tire and his rear wheel a capella together through the trees. Peak colours are just past, and the wind is causing showes of leaves to fall as we ride, hiding the trail in front of us and covering it as we pass, silent, poco allegro. We wound our way down the Switchback trail, carving into the berms scoured out by the illegal, inconsiderate dirtbike riders: I made a mental note to contact C.L.I.M.B's (concerned long island mountain bikers) president Mike Vitti, who has helped recover and renovate other damaged trails in the area. Our group SPOKESPEOPLE has made a strong connection with the East Hampton Trails Preservation Society and have a plan for dealing with transgressors adn those who facilitate them.. Watch this space.. and http://www.spokespeopleli.org/ ! The farmstand loop was sweet, fast and flowing, and we blasted along, only to slow andante past the EHTPS hikers.

Dennis and I don't speak as we ride, except to remark on the burning colours of the wild bluberry bushes, or groan as we test our jello-legs on the climbs not recently ridden! Many times, we ride so close in space, it feels like we are extensions of each other, his slight leaning leading me through the corners, my front wheel bunny hopping over fallen logs almost synchronous with his rear wheel landing. Batthump, batthump shoooosh, shoooosh. Like a heartbeat. Like a metronome. The Gun club trail was a rude awakening to our fitness level, with us making it up all but one of the climbs, but not without a serious stress on our lungs and legs! I love this feeling, a touch of dizziness, hollow legs, and then a well timed downhill to recover on.. I look forward to long, cool Autumn rides to get my base fitness back, already dreaming of sliding out on pine needles and russet leaves on tomorrow's ride. Behind Dennis, or leading him, feeling the rhythm, making our own music in the silent woods.

SSWC 2007: one god, one gear (38x16)

Still bummed that we didn't get into 2008 california race.. despite getting up at 2:45 a.m. to do so..Never mind: beer, kilts and fat tyres in Aviemore have made for some enduring memories Check out the website for the results, youtube for the funnies.. http://www.sswc2007.com/