So apparently it's summer already...let's ride bikes!

While the rest of the world was in Sedona (Shredona/Shredgina) last weekend, a small splinter cell of Colorowdies descended upon the house of Sienna and Trevor Martin in Grand Junction and used it as a base of operations for bike riding and beer drinking.  We took the spare key from under the extremely tasteful fountain that accents their front yard

and proceeded to stuff seven bikes into their front room and ourselves and three dogs into the rest of the house, failed to figure out how to work their TV remote, and threw out all the food in their fridge to make room for our assorted beverages.
Saturday morning, we blasted through two pots of coffee while Dave made us all excellent breakfast burritos, then packed into Matt's truck for a day of riding laps on the 18 Road trails in Fruita.

(Colorowdie ringmaster Tony B. was also in attendance at the Martins' house, but since he had not been cleared to ride mountain bikes yet after his super gnarly surgery, he put on a full spandex Fred "kit" and took his shiny carbon Fredmobile for a spin up Monument Road.)

Though our plan was to shuttle to the top of each run, we agreed to pedal up the first lap so that we could at least pretend we were hardcore.  We made our way to the top of PBR and took some quick photos of Matt in his amazing enduro getup

and caught Kelly playing with her phone instead duly admiring Matt's amazing enduro getup

and then we were off!
I'd forgotten how much fun PBR is.  It's just pure joy: nothing technical, just flow.  The weather was perfect, and so was the dirt.  At the bottom, we immediately went back to the parking lot to shuttle up for more.
Next up: Joe's Ridge to Mojo's.  I didn't recall what features were where on the trail, so I took it a little slow but still had a blast.
Lap three was Kessel Run; it's always more pedal-y than I remember, and I arrived at the bottom thoroughly out of breath from trying to pin it the whole way.
The short drive back to the top was hardly enough time to recover for the lung-buster of the day, Zippety Do Dah.  I stopped during one climb to catch my breath under the pretext of taking a photo of Matt, Kelly and Eric up ahead

and then of Taylor behind me, taking a photo of me taking a photo of the others.

There are a couple of steep, short, sweeping descents on Zippety, and as I swooped down them I took satisfaction in recalling how I was too intimidated to ride those sections on my first visit to Fruita many years ago, on a different bike and with different people.  I love the moments like this when my progress as a rider is tangible.

After that, we were pretty worked and the truck was running low on gas, so we drove back into town for a lunch break.

We parked ourselves at some tables in the sun outside Camilla's Kaffe on the main street, which precluded us from ordering beer since we were not within the patio area covered by their liquor license.  This was just as well, because the faintest whiff of alcohol would have had me, and likely the others, nodding off for a warm afternoon nap.  Once we were sated and sufficiently up to date on social media via our smartphones, we drove back to 18 Road for a few more laps.

The climbs hurt a great deal more after the break, as they tend to do, and on the final lap I made myself a nuisance for Kelly and Taylor by finding a few spots to set up and take "rad action photos".  This required a brief tutorial on using the mercurial camera's "sport continuous" setting which, due to my terrible skill at explaining things, resulted in some misfires and shoving bikes back up the trail for second attempts.

First, we set up at the double towards the top of PBR, which I hadn't managed to clear when we were in Fruita the previous year; I was feeling confident now and wanted another crack at it.
Success!  Here I am in midair:

And here is proof of my back tire landing on the transition, albeit just barely:

So that was nice.

There was another little feature just down the trail from the double, and I had Kelly take a series of Taylor chasing me on it:

Kelly also hit it, but I made a hash of the photo by not zooming in and getting my shadow in it:

And then, because I'm annoying and high-maintenance, I also wanted some cornering shots, so I stopped at a nice bermed corner with trees framing the mountains behind and got a few decent ones:

The camera is great for taking quick series photos, but clearly the resolution is kinda crap.

Action shots accomplished, we ripped down the rest of the way, reconvened at the truck with the boys, and went back into town for pizza and beer at the Hot Tomato.  Tony was already there, heroically holding down a table for 8 on his own.  We settled on three large pizzas to share amongst ourselves and claimed the beers that had eluded us at lunch.  As our leftovers were boxed up, Kelly went to the bar on orders to "ask for the stickers that they keep behind the counter," which turned out to be these:

I was mystified by most of them until Kelly explained that the owners of the Hot Tomato are a lesbian couple who ride bikes, which is awesome on several levels.

We then headed back to Casa de Martin for showers, beer, Cards Against Humanity, and bed.

On Day 2 we rode Lunch Loops, and since the shuttle to the top of Free Lunch is particularly inconvenient we agreed to pedal our butts up there.  This was somewhat rough due to the extremely large and delicious breakfast we had just consumed at Dream Cafe in town that morning, complete with mimosas for most of us.
What felt like several hours and fifty miles later, we arrived at Free Lunch, where Matt immediately struck another Enduro Jerks pose:

And I attempted to be "artsy" with the camera again:

but mostly just managed to cut the top of Matt's head out of the photo.

After that I gave up taking photos and just rode my damn bike! At the end of Free Lunch, we took Holy Cross back down towards the parking lot, which was just as fun and challenging as I remembered it to be, and I especially enjoy that a sign at the beginning of the trail reminds users that it's supposed to be difficult, and to please not alter the features to make them easier.  More trails could use signs like that, I think.

Once back at the cars, we stuffed leftover pizza in our faces and drank some more beer:

The Front Rangers left shortly afterward to sit in the I-70 Sunday afternoon traffic, and Kelly and I mustered enough energy to do a couple laps of the pump track.  There were several children out there as well, absolutely crushing the dirt jumps and soaring effortlessly through the air like smug little seagulls, and it gave me yet another opportunity to curse my parents for not putting me on a BMX bike the moment that I developed the motor skills to hold on to handlebars.  I could have been a contender!

Altogether it was a pretty perfect weekend, except for the part where Huck blew his anal glands on Taylor's lap in the truck, which caused such acute nasal discomfort for the rest of us that she had to buy and change into a new pair of shorts while we were having lunch in Fruita.  Yeah, that happened...

And on that note, thanks for reading and have a shredtastic day!

I'm Going (Going) Back (Back) to Colorado (Colorado)

At least for a few days, because the trail conditions are terrible in Pocatello, and I miss my Rowdies!

It was my first time out on a two-wheeled conveyance other than the intrepid cruiser Stella Seahawk since riding Hall Ranch in December.  I had visited Erin in Salt Lake City for a day of skiing, and since I was already almost halfway to Grand Junction anyway, I decided to join up with a few other friends going there for the weekend.

The sun was getting fairly low as I rolled toward Fruita, so I turned off at Loma for a quick pedal on the Kokopelli trail system before dark.  There weren't many people around and I had no idea which trails went where, so I just started climbing up the first one I got to (later I described it to Trevor, and he said it was Moore Fun).  It was a little on the technical side, with handlebar-height rock outcroppings that tried to knock me over and a few tricky uphill sections, and I rode like total crap because I had apparently forgotten how to ride bikes in the past month, and I didn't check my suspension before starting (rookie move).  But at least I was back on an awesome bike with bright yellow wheels, on dry happy trails in a beautiful place; it could be much worse!  Of course, since I wasn't Strava-ing, the ride never actually happened...

I would be staying at Sienna and Trevor's house in Grand Junction for the weekend, but since Sienna wouldn't be home from work until 8pm, I stopped by the locally famous Hot Tomato Cafe in Fruita for a pint of New Belgium White IPA, and then again at Qdoba for some nachos. (Pro tip: to really get your money's worth for the nachos, have them put on ALL OF THE SALSAS. Trust me.)  One last stop for a six pack of Baba Black Lager to share, and I arrived at the Martins' and was immediately accosted by Remmy the Enduro Dog and Cayman the Caymanator.

Kelly and Sienna arrived shortly after that and we made plans for riding the rest of the weekend.  Both of them had only recently been cleared to start riding bikes again after their knee surgeries to repair torn ACLs, so Kelly wanted to keep it relatively moderate.  Sienna had to work again on Saturday, so she went to bed fairly early, and Kelly and I stayed up until sunrise, drinking whiskey and breaking things.  No we didn't, we're over 30 and too old for that crap.  Remmy sat on Kelly for a while and then we retired.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

The next day, we had a leisurely morning and made our way over to Kokopelli around 11:00 when it was acceptably warm.  I hadn't been there in at least two years, but I remembered a few features like the sketchy drop-in to Horsethief Bench and a section of Mary's Loop that goes right along a rocky ledge over a 15-foot drop-off.  It's not actually all that bad, but someone felt it was scary enough to create a barrier with some large boulders.  I can't decide if that qualifies as sanitizing the trail, because it didn't change the trail itself, it just made the move less mentally intimidating.  A huge part of mountain biking is getting out of your own head and looking at where you want to go, not at the drop-offs (whether real or metaphorical).  I suppose if it gave new riders the courage to try the section instead of walking it, it's probably a good change.

It felt really good to be back on my bike, and Kelly was very pleased with how good her knee felt while riding.  She tore her ACL last summer, during the last stage of the Durango Big Mountain Enduro race (and still came in 5th!).  In fact, several friends sustained injuries during the last riding season, and we missed them sorely during their recuperation.  Fortunately they are all back to shredding in one way or another!

Crushing it!

Afterwards we decamped to the Hot Tomato for beers and an ENORMOUS pizza, of which we could only eat two pieces and then wrapped up the rest for leftovers.  

Om nom nom.

Then it was back to Sienna's for naptime until dinner.  Liz returned from her training ride and Sienna arrived home from work, and we went to Bin707, arguably the best restaurant in Grand Junction, with trendy cocktails of locally sourced spirits and hipster-friendly small plates. It was quite good, and I recommend checking it out if you are in the vicinity.

Next morning, Kelly made us all an excellent veggie frittata, of which Remmy stole the remains from the kitchen counter when no one was looking. He didn't seem the least bit ashamed of it, either. But that is probably because he is a cartoon, not a real dog.

We piled in the cars and headed east toward Palisade, a small town known in the rest of Colorado for its excellent peaches.  To me and most folks from the Front Range, it also signaled increasing proximity to Moab and regaining 4G and wireless signal as we left the river canyon.  However, there are a few hidden gems of trails at the mouth of the canyon, and Trevor and Sienna first led Liz, Kelly and me on the Palisade Rim trail on the south side of I-70.  It's mostly moderate, switchbacky singletrack up to a couple of lollipops, and had some nice interesting technical features on the climb.  Being on the north side of the cliffs and out of the sun, it must be an excellent ride in the summer, but in this case it meant that there were several patches of ice on the trail, deceptively hidden under a thin cover of dirt. It was somewhat disconcerting to try and put down some power to get over a ledgy rock and end up sliding sideways instead, but we eventually made it to the top of the first climb without incident.
Near the top, there was a small drop with a very smooth transition, and Trevor set up to take photos if we wanted to try it.  Liz hit it like the pro she is, and I rolled up to the edge to see which line I should take.  It was about the easiest drop you could ask for, but as I backtracked along the trail to give myself some room to get up speed, I still felt nervous, because I have the most uncanny ability to make a complete hash out of almost anything.  But I started pedaling, and committed, and went for it, and it worked out just fine:

Oops, sorry, that's actually Rachel Atherton being the total badass she is.  Here's me:

The socks are key.

Thanks Trevor for playing photog!

Of course, even that little bit got my adrenaline up, but it felt good to get the season off to a successful start.

A little ways up the trail, there were some rock paintings of unknown age and provenance.  Here's Liz taking an action packed shot of them!

Enduro rock photography!

Here we see the aftermath of Trevor suggesting that Sienna's helmet might clash with her Shredly shorts:

"How dare you!" *slap*

This was quite upsetting for Cody, who needed a quick snuggle before we could start the descent:

Luckily, the ice we encountered on the climb was much less of an issue on the downhill (just don't brake on it).

Back in the parking lot, we met up with Shannon and Adam, who had come out for the next ride we had planned that day.  Sadly Kelly decided that she didn't want to risk aggravating her knee with more riding, and she set off for home.
The rest of us made our way toward the relatively well-hidden start of the Stagecoach trail on the north side of I-70 which DEFINITELY DID NOT involve hopping a fence onto private property and crossing the railroad under the highway.  There was a good amount of steep hike-a-bike up from the road, but holy cow was it worth it!  Excellent winding singletrack with incredible views and minimal snow.  We kept up such a good pace that I only had time to take this photo of Liz and Shannon:

Once we got back to where we started, Sienna talked us all into riding another 4 miles up to the American flag that adorns the cliff overlooking Palisade. I was painfully slow on the climb due to my chronic wimpiness, and this last hike-a-bike up icy snow-covered rocks just about killed me:

Then upon reaching the flagpole, Liz and Sienna decreed that we should make Trevor and Adam's day by taking a "free the boobies" picture:

'Murica!

Lucky for us, it was sunny and unseasonably warm at that point in the day.
The flagpole sort of lies off the beaten path, so we picked our way back down to where the main trail should be, which involved lots of fun bunny-hopping off of ledgy rocks and swerving around patches of cactus.
The day ended with a round of beers at the Palisade Brewing Company, and then a round of spirits at the Peach Tree Distillery (it was right next door to the brewery, how could we not?).  Afterwards I packed up the Tahoe and made my way back to the sloppy mudfest that is Pocatello with great regret that it is not closer to Grand Junction.  Hopefully I will have a reason to go back soon! President's day weekend, anyone?

Thanks for reading, and remember: safety third!

Colorowdies Burning Bike 2014 / Strider Huge Rock Enduro / Desert Glow Stick Dance Party Moab Weekend Report!

After the success of last year's First Annual Burning Bike and Strider Huge Rock Enduro, the organizers and participants realized that it would be difficult to outdo ourselves this year.
But we did.
By gosh, we did!
The Striders were newer and free-er, the glow sticks were more numerous, the fire pit-jumpers were more intoxicated, and the podium prizes were swag-ier.  The injuries were gnarlier as well, but if you want to make an omelette, you have to wing some eggs at a police cruiser and then get assigned as a cook in the prison mess hall.  Or something.
Some Colorowdies were lucky enough to get into town on Thursday night, so a Whole Enchilada shuttle was organized for Friday because, miraculously for the end of October, the top of Burro Pass was snow-free.  We met up at the Rim Cyclery and loaded up on the three vans for the hour-long ride to the Glacier Pass parking area, then all waited in line to use the single toilet in the tradition of "I drank way too much coffee before and during the shuttle ride".  After taking care of business, we donned our tutus and began the pedal up to the top of Burro, which is only a mile but always feels much longer.
Once there, we posed for the obligatory 'start of the WE' photos:

Tony: "Do your best raptor impression!"

Gotta have a jumping photo

Get ready to get rowdy.

While Eric took a surreptitious backside shot of the rainbow of tutus:

And then we were off!
The dirt on the descent was just about perfect, even slightly dusty, which was extremely odd since at that time last year the pass was under several inches of snow.  The first wave of Rowdies tore down the trail, one after the other, roosting the corners and splashing through the creek crossings, and regrouped at the beginning of the climb to Hazard County through the aspens.

A few folks in the group elected to wait for the rest, but those of us who like to take their time climbing started cranking up the trail at an easy pace.
We stopped again in the parking lot at the bottom of Hazard, assuming that the ones behind us would catch up momentarily.  After twenty minutes passed standing in the cold wind, Tricia and Yann decided to start pedaling up again to keep warm.  Another half hour went by with Spicy and me trying to take cover from the wind behind a van, the rest of the Colorowdies finally rolled in.  The problem: one girl's front brake cable had been neatly severed almost immediately after starting the descent down Burro.  Since a brake cable is virtually unfixable in the field, and there were plenty of steep sections remaining on the 20-odd-mile trail, it was very inadvisable for her to continue riding, and she had to bail out and take the road about 30 miles back to town.  We bid her good luck and kept on.

That's not supposed to look like that.

Hazard County was, as always, fantastically fun, as evidenced by Taylor's and Tony's smiles at the start:

And here are several more photos from the rest of the ride:

Unfortunately, though we started with 15+ people in our group, several had to break off due to mechanicals and needing to get back to their dogs and not feeling well, so there were only seven of us that popped out of the tunnel at the end of the Porcupine singletrack (not including Zach, who broke his chain at the start of the singletrack and Stridered his way out).
We pedaled back into town, drove back to camp, prepared dinner and readied ourselves for the dance party that would begin once everyone was properly costumed and intoxicated.
Yann Ropars, a veteran Burning Bike participant, wins for getting the best photos of the proceedings, and you can see more of his amazing work here.

When Rowdies go camping, you either hate us or join the party.

Photographer and fellow attendee Eric Rasmussen also got some great shots:

There was also a practice session for the following evening's Strider Huge Rock Enduro:

When jumping a Strider over a fire pit, remember that it's always important to wear proper safety equipment: helmet, gloves and flip-flops.
The festivities were still under way when I eventually stumbled off to bed, and the next morning I was acutely reminded of the bottle of tequila that had been passed around during the dance party, and of which I had apparently partaken a bit too much.  Even coffee, a bacon muffin and a Wescial burrito at the Love Muffin cafe did not make a significant dent in the hangover, so I took a nap in the van until about noon, at which time we finally mobilized for a ride at Amasa Back.
We had a fairly large group again, but this time we stayed together on the climb, and mercifiully there were lots of water and snack breaks because the pedaling made me feel like puking.  Of course we had to stop at the Jackson's Hole overlook for pictures:

#ladyshred

Now everybody take five steps back...

When we reached the turnoff for Jackson's trail, most of the group was tired of pedaling and ready for the descent, but seven of us elected to continue up Amasa and take Rockstacker over to Jackson's.  I was still hurting at that point, so calling it a day sounded quite appealing, but I caved to peer pressure and kept climbing.
I'm glad I did, because I forgot how much fun Rockstacker is.  Here's Leigh cleaning a section near the start that I've always been afraid of for no good reason:

Ain't no thang.

After that we just kept moving, so no more pictures for you!
Finally, when we got back to the parking lot, my hangover had more or less abated, and it was time to go to the brewery!  Apparently we had had our fill of biking for the day, because the dinner conversation was dominated by talk of skiing.  I got some beta on AT ski bindings from Donny Roth of Independent Descents, and also heard the story of the (only) time he was caught in a slide, which was terrifying.
Then it was time to go back to camp and register for the Strider Enduro!

Kelly and Tony worked the registration table, handing out glow sticks and event T-shirts.  Liz and others outlined the courses with tape, flagging and more glow sticks, and the racers busied themselves walking and preriding the lines. Stage 1 was similar to the previous year: moderately steep ledgy rock and sand.  The middle section of Stage 2 sent us on a meandering line through the Tent City:

Then we would have to stride vigorously up the dance party rock to the final descent down to the fire pit and the finish line, where most of the carnage would happen due to soft sand and high speed:

There was one rough faceplant on the first stage that had us thinking we should make full-face helmets mandatory for next year, but otherwise injuries were kept to a minimum.

Also, a brief intermission was required between stages to get the bikes back to rideable condition:

I mean, they are designed for 6-year-olds...

Finally, I give you the women's podium:

1-Taylor 2-Erin 3-Liz

And the men's:

1-Joey 2-Jeff 3-Ryan

Ryan and Jeff are both awesome riders, but it is slightly possible that this will be the only time they share a podium with Joey Schusler...
The girls received jewelry made by Leigh and the boys got Michigan pickled asparagus and the number plates from the Striders, and they all got various swag supplied by First Chair Clothing.
Then the girls stole the number plates because girls are better:

Pirates?

Then we all signed the eponymous Burning Bike before chucking it in the fire:

 A burnt offering to the trail gods.

The festivities continued until 2am, at which time Daylight Savings turned the clock back to 1am (if you're curious, iPhones just go straight from 1:59 to 1:00) and most of us made our way to bed.

In the morning everyone slowly dispersed, already looking forward to Burning Bike 2015 and dance parties in the desert.