In 2006 I rode from Moab to Fruita in 17 hours and 25 minutes. Saturday I will repeat the feat. Or at least I will attempt to repeat it. And while I don't think my fitness is quite where it was in May of '06, I do think I am a smarter rider. Which means I feel good about the prospect of besting that 17:25.

There are always variables. There will be unexpected challenges. But I feel good about the things I can control. My pace, my nutrition, my attitude. As long as those things are in line with where I want them to be, I should have a blast. Regardless of how long it takes me to finish. But slipping in under that 17:25 will be sweet, sweet icing on the cake.

So here's to pushing limits, mashing pedals, and crossing bridges.

The Salt Creek Bridge

Labels: Fruita, Kokopelli, KTR, moab

I have considered in the past writing an entry for the Dirt Rag Literature Contest. But for one reason or another I have never followed through. So when the latest newsletter arrived in my mailbox, announcing this year's competition, I thought to myself "why not?"

And the next thought was of course, "what will I write?"

Well, after stewing on it for a day or two I thought it would be neat to run with a post from this blog. Use something I have written in the past as a launching pad to my entry. But rather than help answer the pertinent question, it only opened more possibilities.

So I am turning to you. What have I written that might be built into a nice entry for the contest? Anything? At all? I was going to link up a few of my favorites over the 3 year history of this site, but decided to give you all a clean slate. Is there a particular post, or theme, or style, or subject that you think would work?

Think about it a moment, and then let me know.

Labels: dirt rag, literature contest, writing

Slowly the high country is melting.  The snow is dripping away filing streams and rivers and lakes.  The air is warmer, brighter.  The mountains greener, friendlier. Summer is at long last breaking the shackles of an over stayed winter.  The Rockies are waking up.

Labels: photos, singletrack, Wasatch

Trails are opening up.  Some because of snow melt, others because they are evolving from faint deer paths to legitimate singletrack.  And so the options are increasing, multiplying.  From singletrack to singletrack, ridge to ridge and canyon to canyon, the world is being linked together. Ripe for the exploring. 

Labels: photos, ride, singletrack

"The far off horizon impressed me no less. Once again, as in childhood, I saw the soft blue distance inviting me like an open door. And once again I was overcome by the feeling that I was not born for the life of a perpetual stay-at-home among my fellow men in towns and houses, but for pilgrimages through foreign lands and journeys over the sea. I felt the old melancholy impulse to fling myself on God’s breast and merge my own insignificant life into the infinite and eternal."

Labels: Kokopelli, KTR, moab

Hitting the snooze button...


Saturday, the second day of the back to back white rim rides started and ended in much the same way--with me lying in the dirt. I awoke groggy, a little sore. No, I was very sore. My ankle was inexplicably swollen and painful. I was snug and comfortable in the bivy sack. Around me the sound of gas stoves boiling water hissed above the wind.

I decided it would be a good day to sleep late.

Keith prodded me out of the sack, and soon enough I was spinning along Mineral Bottom road. Stiff and saddle sore, but surprisingly excited about the day ahead. It is fantastic what the prospect of riding with great company can do to a tired psyche and achey bones.

As the day wore on I wore out. I climbed as much as Hardscrabble as I could. At the top I found a rock that perfectly fit the contour of my back. A $1,000 massage could not have felt better than that red rock lining the side of the road atop Hardscrabble. I laid there for a while, the rest of the group milling about snatching goodies from the sag wagon and swapping tales from the recent climb. A few wondered aloud if they would have the energy to finish the ride. I knew I could finish. But I dreaded rising up from my awkwardly comfortable rock.

Ten miles later I was done. I cleaned the Horse Thief switchbacks for the second time in as many days. I was happy. I was tired.

And I had a mad craving for a cream soda.

The most comfortable rock in the desert

Labels: epic, moab, rawrod, white rim