"ok you're going to want to lean back--really far--so your stomach is almost over your seat.
Otherwise, you're going to flip over the handlebars"
This is what he said to me as I was on my way dowwwwwwwn a terribly steep, and monstrously rocky mountainside.
Yeah-not before I did it, but DURING......that's how we roll--literally--down the hill.
He mountain bikes--it's kind of "his thing".
I run. He bikes.
It works out nicely--we can talk trail mumbo jumbo and get nerdily excited about a lot of the same stuff.
He has been begging me to get a bike and take me on one of his favorite trails....and it finally happened!
a trip down memory lane: With the exception of a few recent family bike rides, I haven't really pedaled my way around since I was newly married.
I headed off to college with a bike as my only mode of transportation. It was shiny red, heavy, and cheap, but I was excited for a way to haul groceries and school books. My roommate also brought a bike, and we happily rode our way around the little streets of Rexburg, Idaho.
When Robby and I were newlyweds, we only had one car. His work was twenty miles away, and since I worked only a few miles from our house I continued to ride my bike to work. One night after closing up shop, I made my way home through the dark and quiet streets.
With no warning, I was hit from behind......with water balloons.
Girls giggling and speeding away. (girls are the worst)
Wet, angry, and (even though no one else saw) completely embarrassed, I pedaled my way home....head hanging low. Soon after that, I got my longboard for my daily commute, and we eventually got a second car. My bike riding days were over.
We laughed at my last biking memory as we loaded up the bikes and headed out for our ride.
(so happy grandma and grandpa were here so we could do it!)
We caught the 5:30(AM!) shuttle that takes us up the canyon for our ride.
I was nervous.
I didn't even know if I remembered how to shift--let alone ride up and down a mountain, over rocks, narrow winding paths through trees......it was all foreign to me.
We unloaded our bikes just as the sun started to peek up over the mountains and through the clouds.
The day was perfect. Cool mountain air, a breeze, early morning sunshine.
Our ride started out on a slight downhill, winding through a meadow and tall silhouettes of trees.
I was quickly getting the hang of it.....
.....and then we started to climb.
Up "Puke Hill".
Perfectly named--because that's exactly how you feel by the time you (finally) get to the top.
A few more climbs, and then we began our huge descent.
down, down, down the mountain.
rocks. roots. switch backs. streams running across the trail.
squealing, screaming, giggling the entire way down.
and just like that, I'm converted.
my biking days are here to stay.
Trail: Wasatch Crest Trail
Trailhead: the trail starts at the top of Gaurdsman Pass (in the parking lot) up Big Cottonwood Canyon. We rode to the park-and-ride at the bottom of Millcreek Canyon.
Distance: 22 miles
Elevation: 1096 gain (we got up to 9900!) , 5842 loss.
-We rode about 6 miles on the road down the canyon after the trail ended.
-I reallllllllllly want to run this trail.
-As I runner I didn't feel like this trail would have been a very technical run. There were some parts up on the top--along the crest--that was rocky, but still runnable.
-But as a brand new mountain biker, I was constantly on the lookout for roots and rocks that threatened to throw me into the bushes (they didn't get me this time).
Favorite part: As we were speeding down a portion of the trail (well, I felt like I was speeding.....but the boys were way ahead, and I was eating dust), we splashed our way through a few mountain streams.....the best!
Pitstop: breakfast burritos at Lone Star afterwards.
I can't wait to get out again!