Epic Riding

Connections

Grizzly Adam — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 12:00:07 +0000

Having connections is a good thing.

Ridge Connector Trail, between the Crest and the Mid Mountain.

Hyperbole and Singletrack

Grizzly Adam — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 12:00:12 +0000

There are those unforgettable moments in life when idealistic imaginings collide with reality and experience to create iconic and lasting, even transcendent days. For me, those days come in the form of airy, creamy powder in the winter, and flowy, extraordinary singletrack in the summer. And living along the Wasatch Front provides absurdly easy access to both. Indeed, as I ride my bike I can see ridges and meadows that I skied months ago, creating a sense of familiarity and friendship with the very terrain itself. There are times when those moments are anticipated, expected and unsurprising – though still just as fantastic. But there are other days, or more often than not, minutes or perhaps hours that come out of oblivion, unforeseen and improbable that catch you so off guard as to be altogether alarming.

Such was the case on Friday, July 3rd.

And yet, it seems utterly absurd to think that a loop on the Wasatch Crest and the Mid Mountain trails should be anything less than superlative. But even so, I found myself grinning stupidly from ear to ear, whooping, hollering and altogether having the time of my life on trails that were so perfect, and so immaculate as to conjure up wonderment as to whether or not I’d somehow perished and was now riding through the eternities in some sort of singletrack paradise.

It really was that good.

From the active and at times threatening clouds, to the rich and deep green of the pines and aspens, to the popping intensity of the wild flowers and the serenity of high altitude, snow fed lakes, the day was simply perfect. Somehow the predicted storm swirled around us, seemingly conscience of our whereabouts as we traversed and climbed and sped along what was shaping up to be the year’s best day on the bike. It was to singletrack, what that improbable day in April was to powder. The Crest itself was empty, void of any other bikes, and nearly human-free entirely. I find myself at a loss to truly describe the childlike joy we experienced. Alas, instead I am being overly hyperbolic, exaggerated, and sensational.

But what other way is there to describe one of those rare and fleeting moments?

That combination of freedom and fitness and the melding of man and machine all meshed together to create that day, and that moment. An effusive day that will always be remembered when there is doubt, when there is pain, fear and that disturbingly insistent voice of reason trying heroically to cast one off the bike and into the flow of mainstream life, sedentary and flabby.

Well, perhaps I have gone to far. But then, perhaps not. Regardless, Friday’s ride, left me wondering, and struggling to think of a legitimate answer whether or not it gets any better? And of course it does. And that is why we return, again and again to the rugged mountains and the vast deserts. That is why we crawl out of bed at those forsaken hours before the sun has even thought of rising and brave the elements and the unknown and the thumping heart of hard earned, leg scorching and lung burning efforts. The rewards of which are impeccable sunrises, breathtaking sunsets, and a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that can only come after a day of fighting off the nagging and persistent law of gravity.

It might be summed up rather succinctly that we do it, simply for the view. And it might also be said that the process to obtain those views plays a part as well. Ultimately the sums of those various parts – the effort and the reward – are those days. Unforgettable, unexpected, incredible and unfettered in their joy and experience that bring us back over and over and over again.

America, the Beautiful

Grizzly Adam — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 12:00:29 +0000

Powerline Trail, Park City, Utah. 7.3.09

Win a Switchback - Extended!

Grizzly Adam — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 15:49:35 +0000

The contest to win a Prineton Tec Switchback 3 is ongoing - and has been extended for another week. For more details about the contest, click here. You can donate here right away. For more about Team Fatty, visit the Fat Cyclist.

Comic Relief

Grizzly Adam — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 12:00:29 +0000

Of Tired Legs and Snowy Cirques

Grizzly Adam — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 12:00:33 +0000

Is it odd that even looking at a map with the Wasatch Classic route on it that I become somewhat emotional? I think that the route itself has come to represent what I love about the Wasatch Mountains. Their size and rugged demeanor, their accessibility and vast network of trails and roads, and their beauty and awe-inspiring majesty. And yet, the emotion I feel when gazing upon the map is not always positive. Indeed, there is fear, resentment, regret, defeat.

In other words, everything I love about the Wasatch Mountains.

Despite the welcoming accessibility of the ski resorts and the paved canyons, the mountains themselves are harsh, rocky, primitive. And to string together a tour of both the Salt Lake and the Wasatch County trail systems requires – in one way or another – a mammoth traverse of the very ceiling of the Front. And finally this year, after much humming and hawing and this and that, I was able to climb up and over Catherine’s Pass. But the time and energy spent doing so sapped any will to continue beyond that point, and so, with moderate regret, I left the Crest and the Mid Mountain trails for another day, and another attempt (soon perhaps?) and made my exit over Guardsmen Pass and back into Midway.

Really, not a bad way to spend 12 hours, 62 miles and 10,400 vertical gain.

I discovered with mild amusement that my time, distance and elevation this year were nearly identical to last year. But this year I was considerably faster, stronger, more motivated. The difference was Catherine’s Pass (and the slight re-route due to a trail closure). Going up and over the epic hike-a-bike took 4 hours. And covered 6 miles. And so what I made up for this year with improved fitness, I gave away in the slog of a lifetime up the snow-laden cirque of Dry Fork, below the solitary Sunset Peak.

And of course, 4 hours of snowy hike-a-bike gave me time to consider the options, both of the route itself, and of the potential it holds. And as I usually do during and after The Classic, I found myself questioning the route-making decisions I made, in spite of my earlier declarations of immaculate conception. However, the code has been cracked for the first time in the short, ruthless history of this ride. I knew it could be. And I am not at all surprised that it happened this year, despite the sloppy mud that wreaked a small amount of havoc on our drive trains and the lingering, refreshingly cold snow drifts that refused to let go of their wintery grasp near the top of Brighton ski resort. The faint turns in the snow above Lake Catherine were evidence of intrepid skiers also reluctant to let go of that same grasp themselves.

And so, for now anyway, the quest to complete the ride continues. Perhaps I ought to simply draw up a route that I can finish? Perhaps. However, I know I can finish the entirety of what I have created. And the ongoing quest to do so has become a lingering obsession. Something continually in the back of my mind taunting and tempting, whispering, mocking.

I feel surprisingly good right now. So much so that Monday evening I was back on the bike riding some of the same trails - The Ridge, 252, Pine Hollow. I looked with no small amount of satisfaction toward Mill Canyon Peak, across the ridge lines to Sunset Peak, and beyond, knowing that I had skittered across and around and over so much of what I was seeing. But still, that obstinate voice in the far reaching corners of my mind reminded me that there is still unfinished business when it comes to the Wasatch Classic proper.

And I intend on tinkering and thinkering about until I find a way to finish that business.

Derrick looks down on Lake Catherine

No Explanation Needed.

Grizzly Adam — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 12:00:09 +0000

Brighton Ski resort, Wasatch Classic. 6.27.09. 5:00 PM

Wasatch Spot

Grizzly Adam — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 01:09:36 +0000

Find me here.

El Classico de Wasatch

Grizzly Adam — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 12:00:18 +0000

The Wasatch Classic is Saturday. And while I am certain you will be in attendance, I wanted to take this opportunity to berate and cajole and manipulate any of you that are considering sleeping in on Saturday, to do otherwise.

Really, the route is spectacularly difficult, but just as rewarding. The singletrack is demanding and primitive and beautiful. The climbing relentless and constant, and the descents breathtaking and inspiring. And I don’t think I am being hyperbolic. I really don’t. The best part about this expertly designed course* is that it can be adapted to your abilities, expectations and motivations. Will anyone at long last complete the entire route? I hope so. And I hope to be one of them.

*Even if I do say so myself.

However, I did have to make a minor change to the impeccable design of this consummate route. Due to trail work that will be taking place on Trail 252, also known as Joy, that section of singletrack will be closed. I am very happy that some much needed work will be taking place in the mud bog area of 252. You all can thank URMB for the effort. And you can thank the motorbikes for the need (Harrumph!).

So, instead of dropping down 252 we will have to settle for yet another incredible descent, one that we would have only done half of in the original route. But now, well, now we get to enjoy the entirety of Tibble. I once descended Tibble, knowing full well that with my car parked at the summit of the Alpine Loop, meant I had to then turn around and climb back up Tibble. Which back then, was no easy task for me. And frankly, today, would be no easy task either. The point is that that is how undeniably awesome the Tibble Fork descent is. Trust me.

And lest you think I am being hyperbolic once again, there are some people who have even called the trail “the best place in the world.”

In other words, I’d say the trade off is going to be well worth the miles that I cut out of the route. Doing so felt a lot like editing a film. There are shots and moments and lines of dialogue that are just amazing, and yet, do nothing for the story or the film. And so you leave them on the cutting room floor. So to speak. Because nowadays in this age of computers and “digital film” it’s just a matter of hitting the delete key. But apparently back in the stone age they actually cut film with razor blades and scissors and left it on the floor. How barbaric. Where was I? Oh right…

The course is still undoubtedly incredible. And only because the Wasatch is so overtly so. In fact, if you come away from the Classic with impressions to the contrary then I will hand you my bike. Yours to keep. Forever. I can do this because “my bike” is not my bike, but rather a loaner I have been riding all summer as I impatiently wait for a frame from a bike company that shall remain unnamed. (psst, it’s Gary Fisher)

Oh, and hello Keith. I am just joking about giving away your bike!

So, head over to the Wasatch Classic blog and read up on the event. Linked there are the route sheet and GPS file for the course. Download those, mark your map, load up your GPS and your backpack and bring your legs, – you’ll need them. Because the course is awesome.

Did I mention that?

Why The Hell Not?

Grizzly Adam — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 16:42:16 +0000

The contest to win a Princeton Tec lighting system continues through July 5. You can donate here, and read the details of the contest here.

It’s not a race.

But then, it always turns out to be one. At least initially. But really, it’s not a race.

I am speaking of course about the Friday morning Alpine Loop* road rides that are becoming a well ingrained tradition this summer. Last week the pace was supposed to be mellow, it was after all, Fatty’s birthday ride. But as we entered into the sweeping switchbacks of American Fork Canyon I just could not help myself, and off I went.

* I always carry my camera on the Loop, and yet I almost never take any photos. That is, of course, because in order to so I’d either have to stop or slow down. And doing so would mean those behind me would catch up, and those with or in front of me would disappear. And so, the camera stays put because the ride is just to intense to bother with photos. But, really, it’s not a race!

Eventually I found myself with Rick and Brad. We were nearing the summit of the loop and foolishly I decided I to attack the unsuspecting, obviously worn out and suffering duo. And so, while exclaiming “why the hell not!” I attacked ferociously. A relentless, barbaric, explosive outburst of power and speed and grace. A surprise attack that would have made any moment in any Grand Tour look pale in comparison. I was beyond certain that Brad and Rick were left behind in a dizzying display of bewilderment and awe. I turned my head, only slightly, to witness for myself the damage I had caused.

They were both an inch off my wheel.

@#$^&*#!

I held on as long as I could before blowing up spectacularly. I had flashbacks to Sundance, when on yet another paved road (with brad on my wheel) I started throwing up violently. This time I held it in – but just barely. As Brad rode by me he said, “dude you wanna attack on the next corner”. And with that, he and Rick vanished up the road, leaving me gasping for air and seeing double.

I quickly and vividly learned just “why the hell not“.

And yet, I loved the effort and the attempt. A year ago I did not have either the mental or the physical strength to even pretend to attack riders like Rick and Brad. Or anyone else for that matter. Just being up the hill with them was something I was reveling in. It was an exciting thing to have the bike respond to the urging on of the legs, and even more so that the legs responded to the mind. The human body is an amazing machine, able to to become more efficient, more fit, more enjoyable to use. I admit that last summer I wondered if I’d ever be able to ride aggressively again. I wondered even If I’d ever even want to. The answer of course is evident by the summer that I am having thus far.

While my eyes were still bleeding, and my legs still throbbing at the summit of the Loop, Rick casually said, without any sense of how I was feeling, or the effort It took for me to “attack” the way I did, “I liked the pace today, nice and mellow.”

Indeed.

(@#$#$%^%^!)

But then…it’s not a race.

Right?