Get Off My Trail
I’m not a morning person. However, the early start of my son’s school has forced me to get out of bed. As the days shorten that means I am hitting the trails before the sun has come up over the mountains. Just as I started the first rays of the morning sun kissed the canyon walls. As it did I get feel the heat on
Logan Canyon is a beautiful place that hides a lot of small beautiful places. To get to those beautiful places requires passing two tests. First, the dragon awaits the adventurer. Push hard past the dragon’s breath and you will be rewarded. Second, while facing the dragon’s breath you must climb through moon dust and marbles. Crest the hill and you shall pass the gates into
We’re spending Labor Day Weekend with my wife’s family. I’ve got the Alta rack. I’ve got a Ripmo for me. My wife has a Mojo. My son has my old Ripley. My youngest has a Scott – only thing that fits him. I’m spite of being close to Powder Mountain time was not on my side. Like Moses I would not make way to the
Skies devoid of clouds and ongoing temperatures north of 90 degrees have extracted every H2O molecule from the trails leaving billowy piles of moon dust. With my only audience stands of sunflowers observing at attention the Ripmo took us on a magical journey sliding through the moon dust and rolling through the marbles. The ride – Providence Canyon The bike – Ibis Ripmo
I would have guessed heat and drought would have killed off all the wildflowers. Jardine Juniper proves just how resilient nature’s beauty can be. The ride – Jardine Juniper The bike – Ibis Ripmo
Sure riding in a group makes you go faster and there are definitely days I miss the hum of tires and chains particular to riding in a peloton. A solo ride gives you a moment (or a couple of hours) to meditate. I do haunt the same roads over and over. There’s a reason – no cars and beautiful country side or tree filled canyons.
The Ripmo doesn’t like to stop once the downhill starts so there was a bit of an argument when I saw the hints of yellow appear on the maples. We didn’t stop the first time. The second time I got the photo. With a slight chill starting in the morning air there are tiny bits of color showing up in the under growth. I always
It was a snake. It looked just like a stick until the Ripmo almost crushed it and it slithered for its life. My brain sees every root or fallen stick as a snake so I’ve spent a bunch of time training myself to not see snakes. When everything is a snake my poor heart can’t take the stress. Ironically, right after telling myself it wasn’t
Later today we’re headed to southern Utah to take my daughter to college. I couldn’t resist pausing for a photo of this fork that I’ve ridden hundreds of times. This time it made me pause to think about the choices I’ve made at the forks in my life and about the decisions ahead of her. In other news it doesn’t matter which path you choose
Nothing is prettier than Logan canyon in the morning. Except my wife. Of course I meant to say not prettier then my wife. The ride – Logan River Trail The bike – Bianchi Cavaria