Horse Flies Are From Hell

Cloud cover and morning AC blasting my body was fooled into believing that the morning Utah air would be cool and perfect for a ride. Instead the clouds withholding even the slightest drop of moisture instead populated the air with stifling humidity. I climbed through rock and dust roasted dry by drought and mountain sun all the while dripping as if I had just emerged from a pool.

With birds chirping in the trees and the lizards scattering in the underbrush I climbed through moondust and marbles. With this trail base even the toothy Assegai tires slip like gym shoes on ice. 

Moondust - finely ground, loose dirt that piles up on the trail

Occasionally the relieving smell of pine would cover the human stench generated by overheated muscle. Smelling death horse flies emerged from the seventh level of hell to torture any rider unable to apply the speed required to escape their lair knawed on my flesh while I looked a fool swatting and slapping exposed skin. I possessed neither but my mind fixated on ice and water while my body slowly shriveled, sweat dripped onto the Ripmo. The Ripmo does not like this.

We had a great time together. Hot and sweaty or freezing and wheezing. Any day on two wheels is a great day.

Forrest trail with 4 signs
The Forrest Service must have gotten a grant to put up signs

The ride – Providence Canyon