No I don’t know where I’m going

Devin and I meant to ride up Smithfield canyon. We were on gravel bikes so I insisted we find gravel. We found it but then got lost trying to take the Bonneville Shoreline trail from Green Canyon north. We managed to ride bits of trail. We also found parts of other trails, dirt roads straight up the hillside, wild horses and an ATV dirt park

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Chipseal is the new gravel

Bear Lake was calling and I was going to be lazy and not ride at all today and instead focus on paddle boarding. However, Devin loves his new Cannondale Topstone and had other plans that involved us riding a lot of chip sealed roads in some record breaking heat. Who am I to resist father-son bonding time? The ride – Paradise, Utah The bike –

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Devin and I in Logan Canyon

Dev breaking in the new Topstone

Devin has been researching the perfect gravel bike (for him) for months. REI put the Cannondale Topstone on sale for $400 off which trigger a trip to Salt Lake to go pick it up. He put in his longest ride ever on it yesterday and his second longest today. Today’s ride was quite a bit of dirt so we’ll call today his toughest ride yet.

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Going full tourist

I’ve been watching the rides of a bunch of my Strava acquaintances. They are all in France riding all the amazing segments of the Tour de France – past and present. It looks amazing and it’s easy to be jealous. Someday I will follow in their footsteps and climb all the lung busted roads of the Pyrenees. Until that day comes I have to remind

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Fall in Logan Canyon

Sneaking Out in Search of Color

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

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Logan River Trail

Finding Shangri-La

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

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