Trailer Life Stop #4: No, it's pronounced "Hurri-ken"

HURRICANE!

No, not that kind

I have been looking forward to this rotation! I was dreaming about it while freezing my tush off in Bozeman over Thanksgiving. 

It was cold there

“But Stoken”, you may very well be asking, “why would you be so eager to pull the trailer all the way down to the middle of nowhere, deep in FLDS territory, mere miles from a scary polygamist stronghold, to a town where they can’t even pronounce the eponymous weather event correctly, and you can’t find a decent beer to save your life?”

Because BIKES!

Bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes!

Hurricane and St. George have scores of great desert trails between them, the Red Bull Rampage takes place only 10 minutes north of town, Sedona is only about 4 hours away, and Bootleg Canyon is just 2 hours south on I-15.  The average temperature in January is above 50 degrees, and even when there is precipitation, you can ride slickrock in any weather conditions.  As I hadn’t been for a ride since Burning Bike last October, this situation sounded like heaven.  Finally, I could take advantage of my status as an unemployed bum with plenty of free time!

Not so fast.

The weather decided to be thoroughly truculent. It was nice enough on the day we arrived, but the day after that it rained…and the next day…and the next day…and (guess what!) the day after that. This both damped and dampened my enthusiasm somewhat.  But I had faith that Jibbers Crabst would bring me sunshine eventually.

The bike shop in Hurricane, Over the Edge Sports, runs 3 weekly rides: Thursday is for more beginner/intermediate ladies, Friday is the more advanced ladies, and Saturday is the general shop ride that tends to be medium challenging, depending on who shows up. I checked the Facebook page to see if any rides were still on, and although that Thursday was canceled due to moisture, Friday was on and the destination was Zen trail, just west of St. George.  It’s a black diamond on the map, which sounded pretty good to me, so I rolled up to the shop at the appointed meeting time.

There were four of us: the shop owner’s wife and ride leader, DJ, and two local women.  The ride was something of a confidence booster, since despite my nearly 3-month hiatus from riding, I had no problems keeping up on the sustained climb at the beginning.  The trail is mostly slickrock with some stretches of sand and loose rocks, and the uphill part is interesting and challenging, with cairns to show the way when it’s not obvious.  When we got to the downhill, DJ put me in front, and I made my way down without knowing what to expect around blind corners and over large rock roll-downs. It was a rollicking good time!  I got back to the parking area feeling re-energized and excited for more.

#ladyshred

The next day was the open-to-all shop ride, which I saw as a chance for Mike and me to be shepherded around on trails that non-locals might find difficult to navigate.  Since most of the classic mesa trails were inaccessible due to the recent and inconvenient precipitation, shop owner Quentin took us to the Boy Scouts trail system, which borders the south edge of Quail Lake State Park.  OTE actually did most of the trail construction, and you can tell that they know what they’re doing…and they have an appreciation for technical stuff. Like Zen, it’s large and chunky rocks interspersed with sand, and it dries out quickly due to its southern aspect.  In addition, it’s great for practicing tight switchbacks: there are one or two that even give the trail builders trouble. The group that day was a sausage fest: me plus 5 or 6 dudes. I surprised myself by holding on to Quentin's wheel for most of the ride, until I kept getting lost on the downhills because the trail wasn't super obvious and I have terrible eyesight. It wasn't a hammer fest by any means, and the crew was very friendly and fun.

Over the course of the next four weeks, OTE also played tour guide for us on:

Little Creek: it was still covered in snow and ice at the time, and a long trip to get to the trailhead, but I think it would be fun in warmer weather.  Plus there are petroglyphs!

Or so I'm told.

Church Rocks: fairly short and easy slickrock loop, with lots of choose-your-own-adventure options and a little drop to practice your huck-to-flat technique. My first time there was a Thursday women's ride, and they're always mellow enough that DJ brings her daughter Fiona on the bike with her.

Broken Mesa: pretty primitive and rocky, and horses had done a serious number on the dirt when it was squishy. The final descent down Ice House would be okay if it wasn’t covered in demon baby heads…and if the access wasn’t an 8-mile dirt road climb.  Not recommended.

Guacamole: really cool, and slightly reminiscent of the funner singletrack parts of UPS.  Lots of good sketchy optional lines.  The road to the trailhead becomes impassable when muddy.

Gooseberry Mesa: I’ve been hearing about this place for years, but we didn’t make it out there until week 4 of our visit because if the access road to it is even slightly muddy, it’s impossible to power through, and the rain and snow we got in the first week here took forever to dry out.  Gooseberry is quite similar to Guacamole, but on a much larger scale.  It’s a serious workout, and it makes me wish for a telekinetically-controlled dropper post, since it seems like every climb is immediately followed by a steep short downhill section that I want my saddle out of the way for…and then right back into another punchy climb. We didn’t do the more technical South Rim trail on that occasion, so I’ll have to go back for another visit at some point.

Yup.  We're up on a mesa.

I also did some exploring on my own, and had a very enjoyable time on the Barrel Ride trail system outside of Santa Clara, which you can lengthen as desired with several figure-8 options. I did a solo out-and-back on Hurricane Rim as well, which is fun and interesting, and gives a great view of Zion National Park.

Much of my non-wheeled exploration with the dogs occurred in wilderness area near the KOA where we were staying, and there is some seriously beautiful canyon land all over the place. The trails are pretty primitive, and at one point Paddington was terribly pleased with herself for finding the way out of a dead-end canyon before I did.

She was much better at navigating the canyons than Mike, who kept getting himself stuck in crevices and had to be pulled out by his beard:

There are more ridiculously cool rock formations than you can shake a stick at:

This one looks kinda like a toilet to me.

Rorschach rock?

OTE, in addition to organizing three weekly rides, has two days a week that they take trail crews out to do digging and maintenance. I took a Thursday off from riding in order to have enough energy to dig, and Quentin took me and two others up to a trail-in-progress that will connect the JEM system to town. He had an arsenal of trail-building-specific hand tools, as well as a huge gas-powered circular saw for rocks that could not be coaxed out of the earth.

Trail building is a great full-body workout, like Crossfit but with a purpose, but it reminded me that I have not been staying in shape or doing enough stretching or yoga (the downside of living in a 8x20ft space for long periods with three other organisms whose mission, it seems, are to be in my way at all times).

Anyhow, the focus of this particular day’s work was a switchback that needed to be reworked so that it would be possible for at least some riders to clear, and not just those who are 90% quad muscles.  We dug, scraped, hauled, rolled, cut, placed, filled and fractured from 4:00 to sunset, but by the time we quit it looked like the switchback had been the victim of a wayward grenade. Luckily the crew would be back again in two days to continue smoothing it out. I joined them again two weeks later while Mike finished up with his last day at the clinic, this time to remove rocks that had fallen in the trail and onto a wooden bridge spanning a small gully, and make the section less of a lungbuster.  I am normally in favor of leaving plenty of rocks around to keep trails interesting and challenging (not to mention more resistant to erosion) but these were definitely on the "more hazardous than necessary and probably only rideable by Danny McAskill" side of the line, so out they went. It was a terribly pleasant way to spend a warm southeast Utah evening.

Notes on the town of Hurricane itself: it’s really nothing special.  Lots of gas stations, one grocery store, a couple cafes, four RV parks, a Walmart, and a handful of restaurants. One particularly odd-looking restaurant we noticed on our first drive through town was El Trovatore (formerly Baristas) which featured a large and anatomically correct bull on a pedestal, and if you want to be amused for a few minutes, go read some of the Google and Yelp reviews of the place.  I kind of want to go see the inside of it now.

Besides the trails and the breathtaking geology, Hurricane has one other asset: seriously legit sunsets.  The sunsets routinely run through more colors than there are names for, and I got to enjoy plenty of them on my evening walks with the dogs in the Red Cliffs wilderness area across the highway from the KOA. (Apart from the abundant hot water in the showers, close proximity to a lovely and largely unused trail network was the only selling point of the St. George KOA.)

That last one is a sunrise, but still.

There isn’t a single liquor store in Hurricane, so if you want that or pretty much anything else you have to go down to Washington City or St. George. The area is really popular for retirees, so the Costco is always completely bonkers all day every day, and don’t even bother trying to get gas there.  Any savings you might enjoy are offset by idling in line for ten minutes waiting for the octogenarians to figure out that they have to scan their Costco card before swiping the payment card. You are guaranteed to see FLDS women there, too, with their prairie dresses, big Elaine Benice hairstyles, and incongruously comfortable modern sneakers.

STG and WC are metropolitan enough that you can find just about anything you need.  Just about.  My creative compulsions were stymied by the total lack of non-chain craft stores.  No bead shops, and no yarn/knitting establishments. I guess everyone just grows their own sheep?  Or maybe that all just have Amazon Prime now.

Luckily, I had built up a decent inventory during my freezing stint in Bozeman, and I managed to offload the whole lot both at OTE and Red Rock Bicycle Co. in St. George in my last couple days there. I may not be paying the bills with this stuff just yet, but at least I can fund my habit!

 

Bam!

Since the weather was uncooperative for a decent chunk of this rotation, I am very relieved that I will be going back to Hurricane for their MTB Festival, which runs March 18 to March 20. It's going to be a ton of fun, and everybody should sign up and get out there for some sweet slickrock singletrack!

Next stop: a well-earned travel week adventure in Sedona!

Extreme Prejudice: The Art of Finding Your Crew

This used to be much easier.  Back when mountain biking first came into being, there was really only one kind of bike, and one kind of outfit to wear while riding it (heavy rigid steel bike with fattish tires and stretchy roadie clothes, respectively).  Nowadays, we have approximately eleventy billion choices of mountain bikes and many different “kit” options to match.  NSMB did an excellent job of breaking down the basic rider types in this video, and the list is thus (Step 3, at 0:30):

Now, since nobody likes being categorized so impersonally, I shall further streamline the process by presenting an efficient series of questions to determine into what camp any given rider should be unceremoniously shunted.

Of course, when a mountain biker is in his or her natural environment (on the trail or in the trailhead parking lot) it is relatively easy to determine what kind of rider they are and whether or not it is safe to approach them as a kindred spirit.  The presence of fermented libations (aka beer), in particular, is an indication of acceptable association in almost all cases.

Beer, tutus, happy faces: it is probably safe to approach this crew.

However, when you encounter someone in street clothes who communicates, either directly or indirectly, that they ride a mountain bike, it is necessary to resist the urge to immediately bond over the connection. (You may rely on other cues to determine whether a cyclist is road-only.  A whiff of embrocation, an air of smug superiority, a doping charge, and a head injury from being hit by a texting vehicle operator are all reliable warning signs.)

NOPE.

Since there is no succinct answer to “what kind of rider are you?”, I have, through careful research, testing and observation, created a short list of questions that will allow anyone to find out whether it is appropriate to invite the person being questioned to go for a ride.  As we all know, the consequences of mingling with riders of incompatible disciplines and enthusiasm levels can be quite dire, ranging from boredom and ruined Strava segments to sheer terror and grievous bodily injury, so it is essential to use these questions before any invitation is extended so that disaster may be avoided.

1. What kind of bike do you ride?

This question is actually somewhat deceptive.  The answer does not automatically assign the subject to a given category.  The most ideal answer, of course, is any bike with 27.5” wheels with a minimum of 150mm of travel front and rear, because it tells you the rider has adequate equipment for anything between an epic trail ride or a day at the bike park. This person is also likely to be able to tell you in detail about all the components on his or her bike and provide recommendations on each. He or she is probably a wealth of information on the area trails from whence he or she came.

The Santa Cruz Nomad (2014 and newer) is an excellent example of an acceptable answer.

If the answer is “I dunno, I think it’s a Specialized”, then the questioning is done and you should not ride with this person. Someone who can’t be bothered to know the model of the bike they ride is also unlikely to wear a helmet less than 10 years old (if at all) or to carry appropriate tools or sustenance on a ride. Or they will do things like this:

If the answer is some kind of downhill bike with a production date within the last 4 years, this person will not be able to join you on trail rides, but will mostly likely be able to show you all the fun lines at the all the area lift-serviced bike parks.

If the answer is a specific kind of hardtail 29er, it is tempting to write the person off as a Trail Fred (aka a roadie who got talked into buying a mountain bike for cross-training), but wait.  I personally know a guy who absolutely shreds on a hardtail 29er and crushes gnarly downhills.  Therefore further questioning is required to truly pin down a potential riding buddy.

2. What kind of shorts do you wear?

If the answer to this is “roadie shorts,” and the answer to the previous question was “a hardtail 29er,” you are done.  This person thinks that climbs are more fun than descents and will therefore be a major drag to ride with.  Smile politely and tell them that you’re late for your underwater basketweaving lesson or whatever, and GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! 

If the answer is some equivalent of “baggies,” you are in the clear.

Like these.

This does not guarantee that this person is a suitable riding companion, but it does mean that you won’t end up seeing their asscrack, or the very clear outline of their junk, or waaaaay too much hairy man-thigh.

Don't look too close.  Just trust me that that's a clearly visible ass crack in the background

These two questions should significantly aid in identifying those that will make good crew members, but if you are having trouble there are a few more follow-up queries you can use:

3. What kind of socks do you wear?

Only acceptable answer: Awesome socks.

#grumpypurpleowlsocks

4. What is your favorite trail?

Acceptable answers: Doctor Park, Lithium, Amasa/Ahab, The Whole Enchilada, Kennebec Pass, or a trail of similar excellence.

Badass ladyshred crew at the top of The Whole Enchilada

      5.  Do you dance party?

Acceptable answer: Of course. At every possible opportunity. Preferably with glow sticks.

Photo by Eric Rasmussen

      6. Safety what?

Acceptable answer: Third.  After looking good and having fun.

Photo by Yann Ropars

So there you have it.  No longer fear that you will waste a perfectly good Saturday riding in a place or at a pace that does not make you deliriously happy!  Unending two-wheeled joy is yours: go and get it!

Obviously, this treatise is meant to be purely entertaining and not at all judgmental. I support all bicycle-based pursuits and I’m happy to ride with anyone who wants themselves and everybody else to have a great time on a bike.  The more cyclists we’ve got out there, regardless of equipment, the better it is for the whole of humanity.  #getrowdie!