Lions, And Tigers, And Bears,...Oh My

Slight logistical error on my part. When I said to meet at the shop for last night's ride, I failed to realize that Main Street was closed for the Classic Car Cruise. Hopefully no one gave up because of that.So although nobody showed at the shop, we met at Timpanooeke Campground and there were seven of us. Me, three shop guys, and three civilians,...Tyler, His girlfriend, and Mark. When we got to the first intersection Ryan and Mark bailed because Ryan had a curphew. They took off at the Salamander Flat turnoff and then there were five. I soon found out that Kyle and Brady, are like a couple of Girl Scouts in the woods. They are petrified of lions, and tigers, and bears. As we made our way up to the Ridge Trail, this became apparent and so once I had a chance to get up ahead of them. I turned off all my lights and hid in the bushes. I did my best Grizzly Bear impression and they both screamed like little girls. I think Brady peed a little.
When we finally made it to Ridge Trail. Two things happened. Tyler and his girlfriend turned around(I think they said something about going to watch some submarine races), and we met up with Curtis and his friend Whatshisname(I think it's indian or something). After chatting a bit, Curtis and Whatshisname joined us for the rest of the ride. Curtis was battling some intestinal distress and kept threatening to puke, but never sealed the deal. Once over the top, I failed to warn them that South Fork has several sharp switchbacks. This oversight manifest itself when Whatshisname overshot one and piled up in the corner. I left Brady and Kyle, and went to offer assistance. No harm, no foul, and just as we were getting ready to saddle up and head back down to Kyle and Brady, we heard girl screams and there were bouncing lights charging up the trail to us. Apparently, the two of them had heard something in the bushes. And they swear they saw eyes. From here out I was elected lead rider. Secretly in the back of my mind I was flashing back to another night ride in this area.
We bottomed out at Cascade Road and ground out the climb back to the summit. It was surprisingly hot for a night ride and I was sweating like a pig by this time.
We began the last descent back to Timpanooeke and hadn't gone 300 yards when I heard a ruckus and looked back at a pile of lights and dust. Brady had apparently out run his lights and went down. Everybody was concerned for his well being.
I was just happy that the crash-mojo had finally moved on to somebody else.

The Children Are The Future

Had a little relapse of my stomach problems today. It made for a long day at work, and I almost bailed on the ride.Glad I didn't.
Luckily it was a pretty mellow crowd that showed up. Paul Zimm-the-man, Spencer and Bill showed up. Bill brought his step-grandson from Oklahoma, his Brother-in-law(?), and his dog. It was a pretty casual ride up Hog's Hollow and down Ghost Falls. Spencer managed to blow another switchback for an unplanned dismount. Then up the trail formerly known as Brock's Point. And on the way back down Hog's, Spencer managed to find some hidden giant mud-puddle/cow-terd swamp and sink his bike into it.
I still don't even know where it was, but he ambled up after everyone else was back at the truck reeking of poop and covered in mud. Possibly the driest ride we've been on this year and junior finds a mud bog. 15 year olds,.....whadduya do?
By comparison Bill's grandson, made the climbs, managed to maintain proper upright riding parameters, and almost caught a lizard. So,....I'm thinking he wins.

Trailgasm*

*Trailgasm is a copyrighted trademark of John J Fofonov Inc.
The First Annual Josh's Birthday Death March was a howling success.
First, Kenny and Meg showed up late, but brought me cake. Real cake too, they didn't even make it with kale or anything. After pounding some sugar and carbs. Including the licorice and Thin Mints on top of the cake. (They knew I loved Ladybugs) We began the march. If you have evere ridden up from the dam you know that it is one of the least pleasant ride there is. On top of this, you have precisely the distance from your truck, across the dam to get warmed up. This is not adequate.
So for the first half mile or so, you can't get your breath and your all sketchy. Then for the next couple miles, you can't get your breath and your all sketchy because of the steep trail, and lack of technical climbing skills.
There were a few bright spots. Fofonov cleared a climb that I had previously declared unrideable. We trudged up to the four-way and regrouped. Now, on Utahmountainbiking.com Grizzly Adam recently lamented the passing of the Tibble Fork Trail. Here is what we found. The trail is 90% just fine. The trail had one muddy section which is rutted out. But I believe the the moon dust fairies are going to repair it before the summers out. Most of it had already ridden in pretty nicely. Once it dries I think it'll be good.
Fear not, for this restoration will come, and not a hair on it's head will be lost, and everything will be restored to it's perfect frame.
Moving on, from the four way we dropped into South Fork. Most of my rides on South Fork have been marred by mechanicals, sick dogs, and mud. So imagine my surprise when the trail laid out before like a perfect ribbon of flow and speed. It's easily the best shape I have ever seen that trail in. Just wet enough that the dust doesn't get out of control if your not the leader, and no mud. Railing this sucker at 25 mph or better feels like it should be illegal. This is where Fofonov coined the term "Trailgasm".
Once we got to the bottom, we got to check out the new re-route above mexican flat. It's cool to ride and it looks like it will probably solve the mud-bog problem for good. A lot of work went into it, thanks for that TallSteve, PGGary and everyone else.
Once back to the summit, we climbed Ridge Trail, and wouldn't you know it, I kept up the tradition of bringing the rain. Not a bad rain though, and it helped cool things down a little. The clouds were out most of the morning and these intermittent storms were little more than an inconvenience. With the Tibble climb already in our legs I was feeling it more than usual. But we made it. At the Mud Springs turnoff, we did find some crappy trail. The first mile or so of Mud Springs is wrecked. Roots, ruts, rocks everything that makes a climb tough. It eventually cleared up though and we found ourselves ready to begin the descent of Mud Springs.

The top of the Mud Springs climb.As Paul put it, it's like falling down an elevator shaft. Lots of little lips, and roots to jump off. You know, all the things that make a downhill awesome. And fast too, tears running down your cheeks fast.
At the lower four way we took the lower Mill option. And more of the same. When I got in the front, I just kept grabbing gears. I was definitely going too fast. This point was driven home when I survived the second major crash of this season for me. This was easily the most spectacular crash I have ever had. At speed, I hit a root that knocked me off my line, I got out of control, and was heading for a downed tree with a sharp end facing me. I went right to avoid getting impaled and ended up going over the bars hard, and fast. Into a tree in fact. Kenny said that I actually hit the tree, perfectly vertical and completely upside down.

Here is a re-enactment. I think my Camelbak saved me from a spinal injury. I rag-dolled, tumbled, and landed in the bushes.
Despite a little disorientation, I walked away mostly unharmed which is unbelievable. Other than knocking my computer off, my bike was fine too. I figure I'm either being humbled or protected, I'm not sure which.
Down to the reservoir and across the river. It was a surprisingly short 13.3 mile ride but there was a hell of a lot of climbing in there, and some awesome downhills too. A pretty good way to spend the day after my 33rd birthday.
Thanks Jon, Adam, Paul, Kenny, and Meg. It was a blast.

Best Day Ever.

The following is a true story. The names haven't been changed because I'm trying to drag everyone down with me.
I had originally cancelled the Saturday ride on the fourth because I didn't know how much interest there would be and figured I try to catch a ride sometime during the weekend. When I sent this email out, I got a reply from Kenny "What happened to Payson?". Apparently between crack pipe hits, Parrish thought he had talked to me about riding the Blackhawk loop down to Bennie Creek on the fourth. He hadn't.
Then we discussed it being Kenny and Parrish's thing, with the emphasis on Kenny. He asked if I'd send out an email and let people know that it was going to be a fast, long, ride. Not for the weak of heart, or legs.
Using this information, I deduced that since we were leaving at 6 am I could definitely be back by noon and keep my marriage intact.
"Can I go if I'm back by noon?"
"If your back at noon."
Ten people showed up so we loaded up and headed south. I stopped for gas and Parrish noticed that my rear tire was low. As I was airing it up, I noticed it was pretty weathered, and realized it was probably time for new tires.(That's called foreshadowing).
We parked a car at the mouth of Payson Canyon, and I hauled bikes up to the Loafer Mountain Trailhead. Once everybody got rolling, we headed up the trail and soon came across the first challenge, no...... opportunity of the day. You see many sections of the trail are currently a swamp. Luckily there have been possibly millions of horses on the Trail to leave it with that postholed play-dough effect.
Although there are advantages to one of the rainiest Junes ever.I have never seen so many wildflowers in my life. And where there aren't flowers, there was foliage. A lot of foliage.
Here are Meg and Sally pushing their bikes through the shoulder high greenery. Imagine at this point the sound of feet, sucking out of the mud. Sort of a reverse fart.Now, in addition to being the only photographic evidence of Parrish being on a bike since Bush's first term, The above photo with the flowers was also the last time we would see Parrish,Riley, and Evil Kenny(Paul) for many hours. Some say it's because they took a wrong turn. I think it's because one of them took off the front and those three skinny bastards can't let anybody get ahead of them without answering the attack.
So, then there were seven. Myself,Kenny,Meg,Sally,Laron,Tyler, and Gabe grunted our way around the Blackhawk loop. Which until yesterday I had never ridden in it's entirety. I am now of the opinion, that it is a geographic annomally in that it is mostly uphill, no matter what direction you ride it.
Although there were bright spots..........
The midway point in the loop. We made one navigational error and ended up at Jones Ranch just below where we had started. This meant we had to roll pavement to get up to the top of Bennie Creek. At this point Laron and Tyler bailed down the road. They were done climbing for the day.
Less than a mile later we were back at the truck getting ready to descend Bennie Creek. Suddenly, out of woods, Evil Kenny appeared grunting and grumpy. Apparently the three of them had picked their way through an unfamiliar trail and ended up at the Cattle gate at the top of Bennie. They were waiting to see if we would catch up, and Evil Kenny took the opportunity to make a B, double E, double R,U,N(He had a cooler in my truck). He was angry, but after 12 oz of frosty mexican import he was no longer angry, but still evil.

We rejoined Parrish and Riley and blasted down Bennie Creek. There weren't many frowns after a descent like that. Rocky, rooty, fast goodness. We buzzed down the road from there to Camp Maple Dell and took the horse trail back down to the cars at the bottom.

Now, at this point it was 12:30 pm. Yes, I was already late, and still had to go back up to Loafer Mountain to get my truck, load up bikes and drive home. After the shuttle scramble, I headed north, and as soon as I got back into cell phone range, the voicemails started chiming. It was now after 1pm.

I drove as fast as I dared with the Po-Po sitting at every mile marker waiting to ticket holiday travellers. Made it to American Fork, signaled and as I changed lanes to get off the freeway a rumble began. Not a good rumble, like the Sharks and the Jets. A bad rumble, like uh-oh, that's not good. In my rear view mirror I could see chunks of rubber flying up, luckily I was at the exit and rolled to a stop off the ramp. Just before I got stopped, Riley noticed the tire, now free from the rim rolling past us.

This presented another challenge, I don't carry my gigantic spare tire, because it's gigantic. So now I had to call my already fuming wife and say"Do you think you could get that spare tire into the back of your car?" I think she said yes between expletives and she hung up. At which point, I realized that I was also missing a jack. I usually make fun of people like me on the side of the road.

But, if your going to break down on the side of the road, it's always good to have three bikes in the back. Riley offered to ride to the shop, and grab the 4.O.D.(4-runner of Death) He had a Jack, on board air, and tools.

After awhile, my wife pulled up, I unloaded the spare, we discussed our relationship a bit, and she headed home to wait for me.

Now Evil Kenny and Parrish pulled up(either to make fun of me or because I still had Evil Kenny's hitch rack on my truck). Behind them was Riley. And we began the change. Soon after that, Zen Kenny passed by on his way home and pulled over to help/mock. That makes four cars with varying numbers of bikes mounted to them on the shoulder of the off ramp. Then a UHP trooper pulled over. He made a comment about how many mountain bikers it took to change a tire and left when nobody laughed.

Oh, it's not over. Once we got the old tire off, the axle hole on my spare was too small for my rear axle. I have used this spare on the front and never realized this little incompatibility. So now we had to change the front tire for the spare, and move the front tire to the back.

It was now 2:45pm.

I did make it home, got cleaned up and made the drive to meet the in-laws in Park City. It was a quiet drive.

We did finally arrive at our destination.............four hours late. Actually, it was kind of a quiet rest of the night, too.

The Bruise, Day 5

I am now obsessed with my leg. It(the bruise, shut up Jon) now extends down to my knee.

You have to admit, it's pretty cool. I didn't want to go to the doctor because historically when I go to my family doctor with "owies" he tells me that he's had worse ones and I'll be fine. Then he says, "That'll be 50 bucks." But after a bunch of horror stories from people about their second cousin who had a bruise that killed him, or made him retarded,I finally caved in and went to have the doctor look at it.

He yawned, and said "You'll be fine,......that'll be fifty bucks."

Adventuring

Set out to do the old Hog's Hollow to Corner Canyon shuffle with a detour up the new Brock's Point trail.
And as I pulled up to the shop at 5:30 the skies opened and God rained down his fury on me. The little black cloud that follows me around whenever I load my bike into the truck was in rare form tonight.
Immediately the phone began to ring with people wondering if we were still riding.
I wasn't all that optimistic given that past few weeks, but I figured I go up Hog's Hollow and turn around when I hit mud.
Tyler Jolley, and Oilcan(or as I like to call him....Larry), followed me up there and rains came down. There was actually a garbage can floating down the gutter on Center Street. Chad Yates called and said he'd chance it if we were going to be there.
When we pulled up it was still raining, but as we unloaded the clouds parted. And the strange thing was. The trails were completely dry. Not just rideable, completely dry. We met up with Chad and the four of us cruised up Hog's. Once we got to the Draper overlook we decided to check out Jacob's Ladder which I had never ridden. Chad had ridden it before and showed us the way.
What a cool trail. I don't know why I have ridden past it all these years. We did happen across what I can only assume was the entire Draper/South Mountain Stake hiking up it, but other than that not much traffic. Crossed the road and dropped down Ghost Falls.
At the intersection we head up Brock's Point. Or "Not Brock's Point" as the case may be. According to Dr. Bruce Algyre this trail has been being called by the wrong name for some time now. A rose by any other name I guess.
As an alternative to climbing Clark's, I liked this trail. it's still a little rough but it's a gentler grade and you get a lot of nice little rollers to rest on. It is a lot mellower climb and I liked it.
Tyler on the SX didn't like it so much, but he got his reward when we topped out and he got to bomb back down Hog's Hollow.
Turned out to be a really pleasant ride. Saw some new stuff hung out with some cool guys and didn't injure myself at all.
Thanks to Chad, Tyler, and Oilcan.
Apologies to Tyler Ward and his girlfriend who we apparently left behind at the trail head. I promise it wasn't intentional.

When Hope Overpowers Experience

If you weren't at the race Saturday, you didn't hear this story, and it's worth telling. With Lehi Roundup in full swing, my wife's family were all in town. It's kind of a big deal with them. Her cousin Kyle, who rides with us on occasion and his brother Brian were at the Friday BBQ/parade watching party and we started to talk about riding.

Brian is a Firefighter in Logan and had brought his bike down in hopes of checking something new out.

Kyle suggested we go check out the Eagle Mountain Bike Park. So it was decided that we would head out there in the morning.

Brian was a little tentative at first. I happen to know he is a motocross guy and actually jumps a lot further than the puny by comparison dirt jumps at the park. We farted around on the ladders and stuff and were actually going to go check out the Flintstone trail.

I should point out here that I am by no means a jumper. I can jump provided the conditions are right and the landing is assured, but I'm not exactly pulling Superman-Seat-Grabs. In fact, I was clipped in and had to take my Camelbak so I wouldn't look like a dork. Or at least less of one. I made a couple of runs at it, but I wasn't quite clearing them. My back wheel kept bouncing of the table top.

So I took a deep breath and tried one, more, time.

I hit the first jump and had the same result, so between it and the next jump, I pedaled for all I was worth. I pedaled so furiously in fact, the I didn't stop soon enough to level off and prepare for the jump.

The result was that when my wheels left the ground I was unbalanced, and on about a 45 degree angle to the line I was trying to hit. I sailed through the air sideways-ish and it occurred to me that this was probably going to hurt.

I soon learned the reason that serious dirt-jumpers, don't do it while clipped in. You see, when you are attached to your bike, it is an extension of you, or you are an extension of it rather. and as such you become the end of a bullwhip of sorts.

Once the tires made contact, I was slapped to the ground with not only the 6-10 ft of gravity that I was falling from, but my forward momentum converted into centrifugal force,(Are you writing this down) magnifying the impact.

Kyle and Bryan described the sound as though a truck had hit a moose. I hit the ground and immediately became a pile of rags. Brian being the EMT that he is came down to assess the situation. I was convinced at that point that I had broken my hip. And my shoulder wasn't doing so hot either. After Brian convinced me that I wasn't actually broken I got up and hobbled over to the picnic table.

To add insult to injury, a bunch of guys showed up and started pulling 360's and huge flairs of the very same jumps.

I now have the familiar feeling of a separated shoulder, (my good one this time) not bad, just enough to make it tough to do anything. My helmet is broken........And yesterday morning, my hip began to bloom. The colors are lovely this time of year. The upper bruise actually wraps around into the hooterfud area, but as this is a family site, I opted for the pictures you see below. The lesson?

If you are a 32 year old man, with a Camelbak and clipless pedals.

Stay off the jumps.

I'm gonna see if Cougar will put that on the sign.