BlackSmithFork Canyon road

Wind, Sun and the Hum of Asphalt

Right at lunch the sun shone bright, the air was mostly still and for the first time this year I found myself haunting the country and canyon roads of Cache County. There’s something significant about the first ride after a long winter. Sure, I’ve been out in the snow on the fat bike and I love snow biking. Though I’ve been blessed with many first

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Blacksmith Fork Canyon at the top looking west. A long road with mountains rising on both sides.

Seeking Solitude

This is a crank rant. Read at your own peril. <crank> Some days I hate people. Not anyone person, just all people. The thought of interacting with another human is exhausting. I don’t want to listen to anyone’s demands. I don’t want a to do list. I don’t really care to hear anymore about why I’m not the perfect or even decent human in your

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Blacksmith Fork Canyon above the dam. Asphalt road stretching deeper into the canyon with water on the right, blue skies and mountains rising on both sides

What a Place!

Praying as I pedal that this not be the path on which I pass I am particular about picking a path vacant of the petroleum powered population conveyors that power people from point to point out here in Paradise. I pass ponies and pastures. A phone call, Shimano will warranty my cassette but the parts cannot arrive by parcel until July is past and August

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Recovering From Old Age

I usually wake up to the first rays of the morning sun breaking over the mountains to the East. It’s a pleasant way to start the day. This morning I was awoken by a burning sensation under my right shoulder blade and a numb hand. Mountain biking, body is fine. Paddleboarding I’m fine. Apparently sleeping through the night is my biggest physical challenge. I took

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