Today we cycled down the first 13-14 miles of the White Rim trail. I nixed any delusional ideas of a technical ride (I could see Mike veering toward that like a bee to honey) and we settled on a physically challenging one instead.
We actually had to scrape frost off the windshield this morning and I was wearing a few layers as we started the descent. Glances off the side of the road were reward with a little seat clenching by those gluteals - quite a drop into some rough looking country. Absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, however.
We encountered a few groups who were outfitted to do the full over-100 mile ride with vehicle support . They were pleasant enough, although I would have preferred the solitude and the silence. We only had a few jeeps to deal with and two motorized dirt bikes. The support vehicles and jeeps were all extremely courteous and gave us wide berth. In comparison one of the dirt bikers seemed to exult in destroying the peace with the deafening roar of his engine. You would hope he would feel completely emasculated and silly driving by a woman who was clearing the canyon with her own muscles. It’s that whole compensation thing, every time.
The formations were phenomenal. Arches and buttresses and swirls in the rock faces. There was a section where it appeared an entire layer of rock fell at about the same time. It looked like crumbs broken from the edge of a very large cookie on the lap of the canyon. A person can understand why places such as this inspire a magical mythology - you can create nearly any creature you wish from the eroded rock faces. Mother earth is truly a master sculptor.
Again - NO atv’s, NO jeep, NO motorized vehicles of any kind in any natural space. If you have to burn fossil fuels for fun, join the military. Or, at least stick to the motorparks and leave the forests, deserts and beaches as pristine as possible for the rest of us.
The climb out wasn’t as hard as we thought. We were tired, to be sure, but not completely burned out as I feared. Not to bad for my first week out of my splint! We left some sweat behind, but that is a fair price to pay.
Moab Brewery welcomed us with hard-to-be-found 8.5% beer (this IS Mormon country, after all) and surprisingly good food. As we finished, the bar and restaurant was wall-to-wall packed with weekend warriors looking for a place to re-fuel. How can you go from starving to STUFFED in 15 minutes? It’s the American way!
A much needed rest tonight and we head back to the rat race in the morning. It’s beautiful country here. I hope we as humans are smart enough to preserve it.
_____________________________________________
Friday, October 28, 2011
She - Day 3 and 4 - Moab
Day 3 and 4
WE ARE SLACKERS!!!
We took day 3 off due to rain, cold and my sore bum. It was a good day to rest. (And my sore bum thanked me.)
Day 4 saw us tackling the Klondike Trail with the Baby Steps loop added on to get us back to the car. Baby Steps??? What evil rear-slapping sadist named this trail?
It all started out innocently enough (as all adventures do), but alas only after about mile 3 we got into the ritual couple argument of “we are going the wrong way”. Much to my dismay Mike was - cough, cough, gag, cough - right, and we got going. The steep sections were darn intimidating to me but we managed to get over a surprising number. We had problems with getting the bike to drop into its lowest gear (not a great thing when presented with a cliff directly in front of you) which caused a few jolting stops on the way up. (Insert here - severe-eye-watering-crotch-pain.)
The way down was,... well... jarring. Do you remember the feminist quote of “A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle”?. I felt like a fish out of water. I’m sorry to say, but I still believe that there are places no bicycle should go and this would be one of them. We made it down but I hardly was able to enjoy the scenery and there was no serenity in the exertion for me. Give me hiking boots or give me death.
I know I seem to be obsessing about my nether-regions but (GOOD GOLLY GRACIOUS) were they sore after this ride. I’m beginning to understand the bow-legged cowboy thing. Can you duct-tape a pillow on to a bicycle seat?
___________
WE ARE SLACKERS!!!
We took day 3 off due to rain, cold and my sore bum. It was a good day to rest. (And my sore bum thanked me.)
Day 4 saw us tackling the Klondike Trail with the Baby Steps loop added on to get us back to the car. Baby Steps??? What evil rear-slapping sadist named this trail?
It all started out innocently enough (as all adventures do), but alas only after about mile 3 we got into the ritual couple argument of “we are going the wrong way”. Much to my dismay Mike was - cough, cough, gag, cough - right, and we got going. The steep sections were darn intimidating to me but we managed to get over a surprising number. We had problems with getting the bike to drop into its lowest gear (not a great thing when presented with a cliff directly in front of you) which caused a few jolting stops on the way up. (Insert here - severe-eye-watering-crotch-pain.)
The way down was,... well... jarring. Do you remember the feminist quote of “A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle”?. I felt like a fish out of water. I’m sorry to say, but I still believe that there are places no bicycle should go and this would be one of them. We made it down but I hardly was able to enjoy the scenery and there was no serenity in the exertion for me. Give me hiking boots or give me death.
I know I seem to be obsessing about my nether-regions but (GOOD GOLLY GRACIOUS) were they sore after this ride. I’m beginning to understand the bow-legged cowboy thing. Can you duct-tape a pillow on to a bicycle seat?
___________
He - Moab Day 5
Breakfast...the most important and vital meal of the day was at Peace Tree. We brought the iPads along to decide on a ride while we ate pancakes and drank way too much coffee hoping that the morning chill would actually wear off.
We nearly went to Top of the World, but a second description had Lea thinking second thoughts about how technical it was. Instead we settled on a section of White Rim. Ridden as a loop White Rim is 102 miles long, but didn't have the legs for that so we did an out and back starting in Canyonlands National Park.
The trail head is way the hell above Moab on a high desert plateau. However is quickly drops into a freakishly precarious abomination of a road that has no business existing. It actually drops almost 1600 feet in 1.8 miles. The views are as breathtaking as is the idea of riding back up.
We put the dual disk brakes to the test and dropped down toward the Colorado River. Minutes later we were cruising the White Rim trail a few hundred feet above the river and taking in the best scenery of the week.
The trail undulates with very little overall elevation change for miles as we enjoy vista after vista. At some point we rest for lunch and decide we have pushed it far enough given the thoughts of the climb to come. So back up the trail we go.
As we approach Shaeffer Trail (the big climb out of the canyon) we can't help but think there is no earthly way or reason for a trail to go there. The vertical walls shut you in like a prison cell. Yet somehow human determination has carved this ribbon of road where nothing should exist.
Truth be told, the climb was not as bad as we thought it would be, but any time you make that kind of ascent in such a short order you are going to be tired. And hungary. And in need of beer.
Moab Brewery helped with all of those but the tired.
I think we burnt about of 4000 calories on our ride....we probably ate 5000.
All in all a great ending to an epic week.
He - Moab Day 4
Wednesday started with cold and rain and we decided to follow its lead and just take a rest day.
But Thursday came back with a vengeance.
The plan was Klondike Bluff up to Baby steps and then doing an afternoon ride at Merrimac. Spoiler alert: We didn't make it over to Merrimac.
The whole Klondike Bluff and Baby Step loop was recommended to us earlier in the week. Some dirt road, some slick rock, some single track. How bad could it be?
Let's just say that "Baby Steps" was anything but.
After a few miles of dirt road and some sandy washes we began to climb up Klondike. Not overly technical but some exciting sections. After some debate over directions...which luckily worked out in favor of my internal compass, we were climbing on seemingly endless slick rock. For those that don't know this term, imagine football fields of solid rock tilted at odd angles with corrugation that ranges from benign to unrideable.
This was mostly benign, but steep none the less. Each time we thought we reached the top, another section would present itself. The trade off was the views were getting better all the time. Once we crested the bluff things began to get interesting. Mostly fast single track but a few killer climbs strewn with loose rock and soul crushing inclines.
It was on one of these sections of single track that we broke through to another level of riding. Climbing in a higher gear we blasted over a small climb and kept our momentum as the tandem began to glide...instead of bash...over rocks. Think of it as the difference between stumbling and dancing.
Now the fun begins...or as Lea puts it...the constant fear of life and limb.
The trails drops down a section of ledge strewn slick rock for miles. It literally never seems to end. But each drop is cleared and I think we were both more that a little impressed by our skills and the bikes ability to take a beating.
Twenty some odd miles and were back at the car. A little bruised, very tired, but successful at a trail that would be challenging for most people on singles...much less a tandem.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
She - Day Two!
We felt surprisingly good getting out of bed and stumbled to the complimentary breakfast without getting lost (a ridiculously tough task when one is pre-coffee).
Mike found we had a flat front tire and, after some choice words were spoken, we learned how to remove the front tire from this particular fork to change the tire. Oh, we are growing up so fast!
We decided the best starting point today would be from the hotel. If there is anything better than a good ride, it’s a good ride without using any gasoline! The cloud cover was welcome but we also had a stiff head-wind on our way up the canyon. Today’s destination was Hurrah Pass and possibly Chicken Corner if our legs were up to it. We passed by petroglyphs and hugged the Colorado river a large portion of the way. I wonder what we will leave behind for future generations to marvel at?
The route we chose is all road - dirt road. I can enjoy the scenery a bit more when I’m not planning my eulogy on every corner. I know it’s a compromise for Mike but I think he enjoyed the simple physical challenge today.
The good thing about these dirt roads is that they are easier for us to navigate on the tandem. The bad thing about these roads is that the roads exist at all in such a beautiful, natural place. Roads bring cars, cars bring jeeps, jeeps bring ATV’s and all those petroleum-powered vehicles bring dust, noise and trash. Close all these roads to everything that isn’t man-powered and all those beer bottles and cardboard boxes will go away. How many runners or cyclists carry a case of beer on their backs?
SIGH. It’s the world we live in.
Aside from the severely bruised backside that screams every time it hits the seat, the trip is a great one. Lots of climbs, lots of descents and jaw-dropping vistas everywhere you look. The rock formations are stunning, and it’s difficult not to form them into familiar objects in your imagination. As if the rock cares about looking like anything but a rock. The colors are red, beige, green, and a weird looking chemical blue that must be sagebrush as seen from afar.
We don’t see much wildlife other than crows, chipmunks and lizards. But it is entirely possible that we are just not familiar to what lives here. I’m pretty sure I saw coyote scat near a campsite where we stopped at to rest. In this dry climate (I read they get 10 inches of precipitation a year here) it’s hard to imagine what it takes to survive.
I dropped a crumb near a scouting red ant at one of our stops. It was probably 3 times the size and weight of that little soldier but it hefted it up into its pincers and took off for home. You wonder if they get special recognition for that kind of booty.
We didn’t see many motorbikes or jeeps but we usually heard them long before we saw them. I wonder if they even realize how far that sound carries. Nothing like getting out into the great outdoors - sitting on your butt, blaring music so you can’t appreciate the silence, breathing in exhaust and scaring away any wildlife you might hope to see. Stick to going to the mall, I say.
At the top of Hurrah pass we took a break to walk to the edge for a view. You could almost imagine being there alone with no roads, no cars,... An experience I cherish. We could see a road winding through the canyon floor below but weren’t sure if it continued back out to the main roads or dead-ended. We decided to investigate and agreed that if it weren’t obvious, we would simply turn around the grind back up to the pass.
I’m so glad we did! The rock along the descent looks to be carved out of stone by a sculptor. Getting a glance of the side of the road, I was impressed by the vertiginous draw and the sheer scale of the place. Rock formations stacked together like tall dinner rolls and mushrooms. Oh, and sandy road! Now I understand the runaway truck ramps - except we weren’t out of control - we were just trying to continue forward!
We finally were mired in sand and walked up one last hill to see if it offered a peak of the river below. No such luck, but we were happy we took the chance. We decided to go back the way we came as it was a KNOWN absurdity, rather than chancing one of the roads down the valley that we knew little about.
Back up and over and my tush was none too pleased. I seemed to have learned to let the bike do more of the work and to not burn out my legs on every climb. Sooooooo glad we have a granny gear as we certainly used it!
On the way home, the clouds began to gather in a much more aggressive manner and we could see lightning over the canyon walls. There were such gusts of wind that we had to hold our breath at times to avoid breathing in the great walls of dust that blasted through. Poor girl’s derm-abrasion - I look ten years younger. (I would find a wealth of rust-colored dust in my nose for the next few hours.) We pulled into a self-car-wash to rinse off the bike and the rain came. It was one of those trips where one extra hour would have made getting home a LOT more interesting.
We stopped by a local bike shop, the “Chile Pepper”, to have them check out our brakes and derailleur. Fortunately, our hotel was across the way and so all we had to do was limp across the road. I nearly fell into the shower. So hungry we were ready to eat our shoes, we walked down to the Moab Brewery. There we met a local character who first stopped us in the hotel to ask about the tandem. He introduced us to a much-younger-appearing-than-stated-age couple who run a bike tour operation in Moab called Sol Fun. They moved here from Colorado so we had a funny conversation about the differences between these approximated states. (For example, did you know the liquor laws in UTAH are so weird?)
The local character, Dave Harlan, also happens to be a HUGE Edward Abbey fan, which is a definite bonus for me. I grew up listening to the philosophy of the man (which mirrored my parents’). And here I am just a few miles from where the book Desert Solitaire was born. And, have you read the Monkey Wrench Gang? Heyduke lives!!!
Now off to sleep to dream of more seat-spankings and good, clean fun.
______________________________________________________
Mike found we had a flat front tire and, after some choice words were spoken, we learned how to remove the front tire from this particular fork to change the tire. Oh, we are growing up so fast!
We decided the best starting point today would be from the hotel. If there is anything better than a good ride, it’s a good ride without using any gasoline! The cloud cover was welcome but we also had a stiff head-wind on our way up the canyon. Today’s destination was Hurrah Pass and possibly Chicken Corner if our legs were up to it. We passed by petroglyphs and hugged the Colorado river a large portion of the way. I wonder what we will leave behind for future generations to marvel at?
The route we chose is all road - dirt road. I can enjoy the scenery a bit more when I’m not planning my eulogy on every corner. I know it’s a compromise for Mike but I think he enjoyed the simple physical challenge today.
The good thing about these dirt roads is that they are easier for us to navigate on the tandem. The bad thing about these roads is that the roads exist at all in such a beautiful, natural place. Roads bring cars, cars bring jeeps, jeeps bring ATV’s and all those petroleum-powered vehicles bring dust, noise and trash. Close all these roads to everything that isn’t man-powered and all those beer bottles and cardboard boxes will go away. How many runners or cyclists carry a case of beer on their backs?
SIGH. It’s the world we live in.
Aside from the severely bruised backside that screams every time it hits the seat, the trip is a great one. Lots of climbs, lots of descents and jaw-dropping vistas everywhere you look. The rock formations are stunning, and it’s difficult not to form them into familiar objects in your imagination. As if the rock cares about looking like anything but a rock. The colors are red, beige, green, and a weird looking chemical blue that must be sagebrush as seen from afar.
We don’t see much wildlife other than crows, chipmunks and lizards. But it is entirely possible that we are just not familiar to what lives here. I’m pretty sure I saw coyote scat near a campsite where we stopped at to rest. In this dry climate (I read they get 10 inches of precipitation a year here) it’s hard to imagine what it takes to survive.
I dropped a crumb near a scouting red ant at one of our stops. It was probably 3 times the size and weight of that little soldier but it hefted it up into its pincers and took off for home. You wonder if they get special recognition for that kind of booty.
We didn’t see many motorbikes or jeeps but we usually heard them long before we saw them. I wonder if they even realize how far that sound carries. Nothing like getting out into the great outdoors - sitting on your butt, blaring music so you can’t appreciate the silence, breathing in exhaust and scaring away any wildlife you might hope to see. Stick to going to the mall, I say.
At the top of Hurrah pass we took a break to walk to the edge for a view. You could almost imagine being there alone with no roads, no cars,... An experience I cherish. We could see a road winding through the canyon floor below but weren’t sure if it continued back out to the main roads or dead-ended. We decided to investigate and agreed that if it weren’t obvious, we would simply turn around the grind back up to the pass.
I’m so glad we did! The rock along the descent looks to be carved out of stone by a sculptor. Getting a glance of the side of the road, I was impressed by the vertiginous draw and the sheer scale of the place. Rock formations stacked together like tall dinner rolls and mushrooms. Oh, and sandy road! Now I understand the runaway truck ramps - except we weren’t out of control - we were just trying to continue forward!
We finally were mired in sand and walked up one last hill to see if it offered a peak of the river below. No such luck, but we were happy we took the chance. We decided to go back the way we came as it was a KNOWN absurdity, rather than chancing one of the roads down the valley that we knew little about.
Back up and over and my tush was none too pleased. I seemed to have learned to let the bike do more of the work and to not burn out my legs on every climb. Sooooooo glad we have a granny gear as we certainly used it!
On the way home, the clouds began to gather in a much more aggressive manner and we could see lightning over the canyon walls. There were such gusts of wind that we had to hold our breath at times to avoid breathing in the great walls of dust that blasted through. Poor girl’s derm-abrasion - I look ten years younger. (I would find a wealth of rust-colored dust in my nose for the next few hours.) We pulled into a self-car-wash to rinse off the bike and the rain came. It was one of those trips where one extra hour would have made getting home a LOT more interesting.
We stopped by a local bike shop, the “Chile Pepper”, to have them check out our brakes and derailleur. Fortunately, our hotel was across the way and so all we had to do was limp across the road. I nearly fell into the shower. So hungry we were ready to eat our shoes, we walked down to the Moab Brewery. There we met a local character who first stopped us in the hotel to ask about the tandem. He introduced us to a much-younger-appearing-than-stated-age couple who run a bike tour operation in Moab called Sol Fun. They moved here from Colorado so we had a funny conversation about the differences between these approximated states. (For example, did you know the liquor laws in UTAH are so weird?)
The local character, Dave Harlan, also happens to be a HUGE Edward Abbey fan, which is a definite bonus for me. I grew up listening to the philosophy of the man (which mirrored my parents’). And here I am just a few miles from where the book Desert Solitaire was born. And, have you read the Monkey Wrench Gang? Heyduke lives!!!
Now off to sleep to dream of more seat-spankings and good, clean fun.
______________________________________________________
He - Moab Day 2
Day Two in Moab somehow improved on day one.
For starters we road right from our hotel...no car, no gas no fuss.
Our thought was to ride up over Hurrah Pass, down into the next valley system and over to Chicken Corner. All in all an ambitious ride considering we wanted to start from the hotel and eschew the whole car thing entirely.
The morning was cloudy and cool with the obvious threat of rain...which was fine by us. We climbed west out of Moab on gentle pavement along the Colorado river. Petroglyphs began to crop up along the ever growing cliff walls and a stiff headwind foreshadowed an afternoon of storms.
As we climbed through miles six and seven the canyon closed in and twisted around itself in tighter and tighter bows, each offering a view more closed off, but more rewarding than the last.
We stopped for lunch in the shade of an escarpment at the base of the steep climb up to Hurrah Pass. Bagels, cashews and raisins were a welcome change from powerbars and gels.
Now the fun begins. Miles 12-15 are straight up. At times so steep that we can barely keep the bike moving forward. But the views just keep getting better and the clouds have chased away most of desert heat. Shortly after noon we summit with a view to the west of the Colorado River and a desiccated valley that has to be seen to be believed. The pass is windy and our clothes are dry in minutes.
A gaggle of identical brand new pickup trucks soon summit. We would later learn that this was likely a photo shoot for a yet to be released vehicle. Apparently that is a rather popular sight around Moab. Annoyed by the lack of solitude and driven on by a curious desire, we drop down the back side of Hurrah Pass. And we drop. Then drop some more. Yeah...even more.
Some up and down double track, some sand, some more steep climbs, more sand...and more sand.
We are 20 miles and a couple thousand vertical feet from Moab so we decide to turn back before both of us seriously bonk. So back up the pass we go.
An hour plus of climbing has us topping out yet again and flying down the front side of the pass. The road is exceedingly rough and steep in sections and our arms are vibrated into jello by the time things settle down in the throat of the valley. Another snack and we retrace the valley floor back to Moab.
About 40 miles of riding today with less technicality, but a huge upside of views.
The bike seriously needed a bath as a red gritty dust clung to every surface and threatened to grind away any metal on metal contact points. Also I wanted to have someone take a look at the brakes and I remember from my days as a bike mechanic that working on dirty bikes just sucks.
The guys at Chili Pepper bikes were awesome. They noticed that our Avid Disk Brakes were setup slightly wrong and explained how they should be fixed. Should be $25 well spent.
Now that the bike was clean and being taken care of it was time to de-spackle ourselves and head over to the Moab Brewery to meet Harlin and his wife for a beer and happy hour wings. Another couple that Harlin knew joined us after the first round. Talk about cool. They are in the their late 60's and run a mountain bike tour shop. They have lived all over the mountainous states and are whip smart, cynically funny and cultivate a general disdain for the norm. Just our kind of people.
Beer, wings, burgers and more beer.
Harlin tried to get us to come over to his place for another round of beers, but our day was catching up to us. So we made the short walk back to hotel where we are going to try to stay up till at least 9 pm before crashing.
I still can't believe how many doors the tandem has opened for us. We would just be another couple of tourists without the awesome local connections that have been sparked from simply being 'that tandem couple'.
Monday, October 24, 2011
She - Moab Day One
Actually got out of bed FIRST today - yahoo! Mike is usually up for at least a couple of hours before I brush the sleep from my eyes. Typically, it takes an unexplained loud noise (for example, an explosion) or the smells of breakf...ahem...lunch to coax me out of my cocoon on those mornings that I’m not working.
Off to the lobby for a free (the very best kind) continental breakfast a la La Quinta Inn, Moab. Scrambled eggs like little alien sponges but tasty yogurt and biscuits that went down JUST fine, thanks.
I found a 50 dollar bill on the floor. A good omen! Like a good little girl (and I’m a non-believer, so no false hopes of reward in the afterlife) I took it to the front desk. A man soon approached (as I was downing my 3rd biscuit, pretending it was my first) and said “I don’t speak ze English, but thank you”. Who knew southern Utah was so, well, globalized?
2 ounces of sunscreen and a full camelback later, we put our brand new, yet-to-be-crashed tandem mountain bike on the car rack. Thank YOU DaVinci bicycles! (Can we send you the bill for future couples counseling???)
Off we go - north of Moab on 191 and take a left up 313 to Dead Horse. We are starting off on a ride deemed “beginner” by a local which suits me fine. Mike is the hard-core technical mountain biker. I’m the runner/hiker that got swept up onto the back seat. Ahhhh, love.
It’s a beautiful, cool morning and the sun slants onto the red rocks defining all the edges, curves and drops. We feel like we have all the time in the world until, literally, five SUV’s with crops of mountain bikes swinging precariously from their rear racks pull into the parking lot.
We were off like Rick Perry after the rapture. No fun having to wait behind a crowd on the trail.
A tandem just LOOKS like fun. It also looks impressive. It also turns like a freakin’ U-Haul trailer to the new and learning. Speaking of learning, here is what I learned today:
1. You can’t pitchpole a tandem bike unless you really try. And I mean really try. Like being off the bike, lifting the back and flipping it over just for giggles.
2. However, you can generate enough momentum that just stopping is challenging. And if you crash spectacularly enough, does it matter so much how it happened?
3. Being the stoker, you have to be willing to eat whatever the captain is carrying on his back. In today’s case, I got to munch on yellow windbreaker with a side of very fresh lash cords.
4. If you are going to fall over, it will be into a cactus.
5. No matter how hard you look, because of the laws that govern matter, the stoker will never be able to see THROUGH the captain. I tried. I tried HARD. Because of this, you will never truly know when the next rock, tree, root, ditch, toddler, car or cliff will be under your bum. Let’s just say I must have been a VERY bad girl today.
6. It’s very important to have a mutual understanding of code words. Words like “up” to grind up over something, “coast” to quit pedaling, “bump” to get out of the seat are vital to not only camaraderie but also to prevention of homicide. Words like “SHIT!” or even more ominous, “oooOOOOaaaahhh!” only serve to pre-horrify the stoker and dramatically increase the probability of mass injury.
7. Whenever you see people in fluorescent orange, assume they are armed and ready to shoot at anything that resembles movement. Two people on a tandem look a lot like a moose (even in Moab) when you’ve already had a six-pack of bud that morning.
We saw some beautiful country. I must admit, I do miss pulling on my running shoes and just GOING. However, if we are going to do some bike-travel, doing it on a dirt road with the man I love is pretty good stuff.
Now we just have to practice!
______________________________________________________
Off to the lobby for a free (the very best kind) continental breakfast a la La Quinta Inn, Moab. Scrambled eggs like little alien sponges but tasty yogurt and biscuits that went down JUST fine, thanks.
I found a 50 dollar bill on the floor. A good omen! Like a good little girl (and I’m a non-believer, so no false hopes of reward in the afterlife) I took it to the front desk. A man soon approached (as I was downing my 3rd biscuit, pretending it was my first) and said “I don’t speak ze English, but thank you”. Who knew southern Utah was so, well, globalized?
2 ounces of sunscreen and a full camelback later, we put our brand new, yet-to-be-crashed tandem mountain bike on the car rack. Thank YOU DaVinci bicycles! (Can we send you the bill for future couples counseling???)
Off we go - north of Moab on 191 and take a left up 313 to Dead Horse. We are starting off on a ride deemed “beginner” by a local which suits me fine. Mike is the hard-core technical mountain biker. I’m the runner/hiker that got swept up onto the back seat. Ahhhh, love.
It’s a beautiful, cool morning and the sun slants onto the red rocks defining all the edges, curves and drops. We feel like we have all the time in the world until, literally, five SUV’s with crops of mountain bikes swinging precariously from their rear racks pull into the parking lot.
We were off like Rick Perry after the rapture. No fun having to wait behind a crowd on the trail.
A tandem just LOOKS like fun. It also looks impressive. It also turns like a freakin’ U-Haul trailer to the new and learning. Speaking of learning, here is what I learned today:
1. You can’t pitchpole a tandem bike unless you really try. And I mean really try. Like being off the bike, lifting the back and flipping it over just for giggles.
2. However, you can generate enough momentum that just stopping is challenging. And if you crash spectacularly enough, does it matter so much how it happened?
3. Being the stoker, you have to be willing to eat whatever the captain is carrying on his back. In today’s case, I got to munch on yellow windbreaker with a side of very fresh lash cords.
4. If you are going to fall over, it will be into a cactus.
5. No matter how hard you look, because of the laws that govern matter, the stoker will never be able to see THROUGH the captain. I tried. I tried HARD. Because of this, you will never truly know when the next rock, tree, root, ditch, toddler, car or cliff will be under your bum. Let’s just say I must have been a VERY bad girl today.
6. It’s very important to have a mutual understanding of code words. Words like “up” to grind up over something, “coast” to quit pedaling, “bump” to get out of the seat are vital to not only camaraderie but also to prevention of homicide. Words like “SHIT!” or even more ominous, “oooOOOOaaaahhh!” only serve to pre-horrify the stoker and dramatically increase the probability of mass injury.
7. Whenever you see people in fluorescent orange, assume they are armed and ready to shoot at anything that resembles movement. Two people on a tandem look a lot like a moose (even in Moab) when you’ve already had a six-pack of bud that morning.
We saw some beautiful country. I must admit, I do miss pulling on my running shoes and just GOING. However, if we are going to do some bike-travel, doing it on a dirt road with the man I love is pretty good stuff.
Now we just have to practice!
______________________________________________________
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