Get Off My Trail
I’d heard that the Logan River Trail had dried out enough to ride and so I felt obligated to check it out. Turns out the trail couldn’t be more perfect and the weather couldn’t be better. The trees were just starting to bud and the undergrowth has started turning green. The canyon is a magical place any time of year. The ride – Logan River
The bitter chill in the air keeps me off my road bike in the late Fall. Similar justifications apply to the cross bike. However, in the name of variety I pulled out the Bianchi and all my cold weather gear and headed to Logan canyon. The consequence for any speed above 20mph was a distinct loss of feeling in my fingers and a deep bite
I am really lucky. I have a wife will will mountain bike with me. During the summer she pulled a tendon in her leg paddle boarding and has been patiently waiting for it to heal enough to get out and ride again. Tonight was that night. I’m pretty stoked she has her Mojo back. The Ride – Logan River Trail
Best to teach them the right way when they are young. Between mowing the lawn and getting hair cuts we managed to ride the River Trail in Logan Canyon The Ride – Logan River Trail
This morning the rooftops were covered with a think layer of frozen water – a sign that we were visited by the first frost of the season. Autumn bike rides are filled with color and confusion. The heat of the sun beats down and as long as you are at a stand still it could be summer. Get on a bike and the rush of
Continue readingThe bite of the morning air after the first frost
Shorter days and cooler mornings means the forests are slowly painting the mountains with the colors of Fall. The Bianchi and I set out to indulge in the changes just getting started in Logan Canyon. The Bianchi is light and fast and unforgiving and I didn’t relish the pounding I take on the descent. However, for these views and sights I can endure 15 minutes
Morning meetings left me on the trainer but a nagging feeling wouldn’t let that suffice. As the work day drew to a close I told myself it was too late and that my legs were too burned up. Luckily, I came to my senses and before the sun gave up the day I grabbed Devin and he on his Ripley and I on my Ripmo
The winds at the mouth of Logan Canyon protect the beauty within like the fierce storms that protect the fabled Shanngri-La. Once I pass through the wind tunnel the air becomes still, the sky beautiful and the trail perfect. As I ride along the river, the organic smells of a forest morning filled my nose. The plants dry and wither as I climb in the
A bit more rain fell last night and Logan Canyon wasn’t exempt from the moisture. After a dry summer and drought the rain is welcome. I took the Bianchi up the Logan River Trail for what turned out to be a community event. Everyone in the valley took advantage of the cooler temps and settled dust and took to the hills. It’s OK I had
The Bianchi calling my name I woke ready to bask in the serenity of forest and stream. My pathway to zen required slaying the morning dragon. Like Don Quixote I set off on my steed to slay the imaginary beasts that stand guard at the gateway to Logan Canyon. While Don would face windmills I would battle the invisible force that propels the demons of