Salt Lake City, from Ensign Peak

Utah is an interesting place. It was settled in the 1840's by Mormon refugees. And still today Mormons arrive here from everywhere. They come, some of them without the intention of staying. "It's just so I can go to BYU" they say. Some keep their word, and after school they return to where they came from. But many, many stay.

My parents came from Oregon and Virginia in the mid 1970s. And they have lived in Utah ever since. My wife came from Virginia. I was born here. And I see no reason to leave.

Utah is home to some of the great recreation in the world. And by recreation I of course mean mountain biking. Because let's face it, the other forms of outdoor recreation just don't measure up to mountain biking. Am I right? Of course I am!

What is incredible is that I can leave my house on my bike, and within an hour be in remote forests, where human contact is minimal. I can find the backcountry in my backyard. I can feel isolated while within sight of a valley with a million billion people. But that is not entirely unique. There are lot's of places where solitude is just around the corner. What makes Utah unique is the variety of solitude offered. That is, I am not limited only to the mountains.

I can drive an hour west and be in a vast and sparse desert. I can go south and find sand dunes reminiscent of the Empty Quarter. I can go southwest and find Moab, the great icon of the state. In fact, Moab might represent to the world the very best of what Utah is. It is a microcosm of the state. At least geographically.

Moab is a vast desert, with a massive mountain range rising up from a sea of sand. Or is it the other way around? A massive mountain range melting into a sea of sand? Is there even a difference? The point is that Moab has alpine and desert, sandstone and granite. The state as a whole is the same. We have our sharp mountains, rising from the valley of the Great Basin. We have our deserts, stretching on into the horizons. And it is all within reach.

Utah is not without it's oddities. Cultural that is. We have our green jello and strange affinity for anti-depressants. We have rednecks and snobs and short sighted politicians. We have big cars, big families, a church on every corner and apparently, really awful beer.

But it is home. And it is part of me. And I am part of it. Utah is the ideal home. It offers everything I want from life. I can look to the mountains and feel safe. I can go to the desert and feel small. I can escape, hide...and seek.

Utah means "tops of the mountains" in an old Ute dialect. For now though, I am content being in the mountains, in the canyons, in the rivers and lakes and streams. I am content staring up at the mountains feeling dwarfed and protected. Vulnerable and insignificant.

Come to Utah. Find out what I mean. But be warned. You may never want to leave.

Labels: moab, Utah, Wasatch

Even when riding the road, my eyes are fixed firmly upon the mountains.

Doping is in the news again. Big surprise. This time some track athletes have admitted to past PED usage. New doping discoveries are as common as Obama and Clinton tiffs. They are hardly even news anymore. The list of baseball players gets longer and longer. Runners, cyclists, skiers... it just goes on and on. The funny thing is that people try and claim that the NFL is clean. Yeah. Right.

But it got me wondering. Do fans really care if the athletes are doping? I mean, do we really?

Doping gave us the incredible solo break away win from Tyler Hamilton. It gave us Floyd's man-eating stage win in 2006. PED's gave us the 1998 and 2001 baseball seasons. It has allowed men a decade past their prime to perform as if they are still 29 years old. And across professional leagues attendance in all sorts of sports is growing. Fans are spending money at the stadium, buying tickets, jersey's, food, and anything else they can get their hands on.

Doping scandals don't seem to be hurting sports.

Of course we 'tsk tsk' at Barry Bonds and Marion Jones and Floyd Landis. But without those 'roids we'd all have been denied some of the greatest moments in sports history. Who was not awed by Marion Jones in her Olympic prime? Who did not cheer Landis on as he ripped the field to shreds? Who was not glued to the television in 1998 as Sammy Sosa and Mark McGuire chased down one of baseball's most hallowed numbers?

After the fact it is easy to condemn the accused, and the convicted. But in the moment we are inspired, awe struck, moved. Our jaws drop to the floor as we witness history. We are so caught up in the amazing that it never crosses our minds that it might all be fake. Or at least mostly fake.

So are sports really worse off because half of everyone is cheating?



Athletes and Asterisks*

Labels: doping, drugs, PED's, WADA

One of my favorite books, and favorite blogs is Freakonomics. Recently on the blog, Steven D. Levitt posted a very funny post in response to the notion that obese people are contributing to global warming.

He argues that in fact the opposite is true. People who exercise are causing global warming because of all the calories that are being burned.

Read the BBC report first.

And now go read Levitt's response.

If you have never read Freakonomics, I highly recommend it. It is a very interesting look at many different, and sometimes unrelated things that shape the world around us. It's a fast, easy read, and will leave you looking at the world a little differently.

And when you are done with Freakonomics, go read Moneyball.

Labels: Freakonomics

I can't say I know exactly what is next for me. I'd love to get down to the Kaibab. But I may have to pass it up once again. Any locals interested in heading down that way?

The Wasatch Classic is sooner rather than later. I am excited to show off some of the incredible trails the Wasatch Front has to offer. The views will impress, the climbs will hurt, and the singletrack will thrill.

Beyond the classic is anyone's guess. Life is going to be hectic as we go on twins watch. Ideally we will be able to get into a nice rhythm after they arrive. But ideal and newborn twins are probably not words that are often associated. Regardless, I am relieved and happy that summer has at long last arrived. I love the long days, the slow sunsets, and the melted high country.

A TWC route summary and GPX file are forthcoming. Keep tabs over at the blog.

Labels: summer, twins, wasatch classic

Kokopelli Moonrise. 5/16/08



"I’m not a big believer in all the techniques of “positive self talk” or affirmations and so forth. Just train hard, train with good technique, use visualization (which works with the subconscious), and the quality of performance will reflect the preparation. I recommend to athletes, and to anyone else, that they “simply” accept their thoughts and emotions (whether positive or negative) as natural to them in the moment — then focus on a goal, and do what needs to be done towards reaching that goal."



The Kokopelli Trail has a special place in my heart and mind. I cannot exactly say why. But there is something about the very idea of that trail that moves me, inspires me, challenges me. I have experienced the entire gamut of human emotion out on those miles. From elation to depression to fear and quiet failure, and quiet victory. When I need to remember that this endurance experiment works or when I need to remember what I am capable of, the Kokopelli is often where I put myself. I must have ridden that trail a thousand times over in the archives of my mind.

But there is more about the trail that draws me in than just riding it as a time trial. I feel that the land itself is magic, ancient, alive. Riding it solo amplifies that mystique, and I feel connected to whatever ancient presence still lingers out there.

But the Kokopelli is a just friend. And a just foe. It doesn't care how familiar you are with it. It doesn't care about past rides or mojo or energy or water filters. If you are not ready, the trail will chew you up, and spit you out in the sand.

I rode for 90 minutes Friday night. And then coasted off the mountain in defeat.

Later, as I waited anxiously for other riders to finish, I had all kinds of time to sit and figure out what had just happened. Leading up to the race was an episode of some absurd tragic comedy, with one mishap after the other plaguing my thoughts and monopolizing my focus. When finally I was in Moab, suited up and ready to ride, I realized that this moment had snuck up on me. I felt an overwhelming sense of dread start to creep over me.

I had hoped that once I saw the friendly faces I knew were going to be at the trailhead that I would be fine. But then something totally baffling, and somewhat depressing happened. I arrived at the trailhead, and I felt like an outsider. That somehow I did not belong.

I felt completely isolated.

It was not the result of any attitude or action from the others. On the contrary. The usual suspects were their usual friendly and excited selves. And for a moment or two I was able to feed off some of that energy, but something was seriously awry. It wasn't until the next day that I realized why I felt so isolated. It was in fact, because at that moment I was quite literally an outsider. I was not locked in. I was not in that mental place where one needs to be to even attempt a ride like the KTR. Let alone successfully complete it. When someone says, "you did what? you must be crazy!" I think they are right. I think we do have to be crazy. At least temporarily. A sane person would not attempt, or ever succeed in putting himself through so much pain and misery.

I tried to ride it out. But the further up the mountain I climbed, the more clear it became that I was heading toward a bad day. Later in Fruita, I watched Kenny and Chris come across the line. They were exhausted, dehydrated, and elated. I envied them. But I also knew that for whatever reason, I was not meant to be on the trail that day.

And I was alright with that.

I had never realized the importance of being in the state of mind necessary to do an event like the KTR. I never realized it, because I never fully recognized that I was getting into a different mindset as I prepared to push myself. It was a cold, dark and lonely feeling to be on the outside of that. It felt as if I was physically in a different place than everyone else. I never thought something so intangible could manifest itself so concretely.

In the end I feel no disappointment. Indeed, it was a good weekend. I got to do a little joy riding in Fruita, watch the race play out, and sit and wait for people who are so often sitting and waiting for me. Instead of having people offer me cold drinks, I got to hand a few out. It was a different perspective. And one that was appreciated and enjoyed on my part.

“When running up a hill, it’s okay to give up as many times as you want — as long as your feet keep moving.”




At this point there is really nothing more to do, except to keep my feet moving. And so that is what I will do.

Labels: 2008, Kokopelli, KTR, moab

In 2006 I rode from Moab to Fruita in 17 hours and 25 minutes. Saturday I will repeat the feat. Or at least I will attempt to repeat it. And while I don't think my fitness is quite where it was in May of '06, I do think I am a smarter rider. Which means I feel good about the prospect of besting that 17:25.

There are always variables. There will be unexpected challenges. But I feel good about the things I can control. My pace, my nutrition, my attitude. As long as those things are in line with where I want them to be, I should have a blast. Regardless of how long it takes me to finish. But slipping in under that 17:25 will be sweet, sweet icing on the cake.

So here's to pushing limits, mashing pedals, and crossing bridges.

The Salt Creek Bridge

Labels: Fruita, Kokopelli, KTR, moab

I have considered in the past writing an entry for the Dirt Rag Literature Contest. But for one reason or another I have never followed through. So when the latest newsletter arrived in my mailbox, announcing this year's competition, I thought to myself "why not?"

And the next thought was of course, "what will I write?"

Well, after stewing on it for a day or two I thought it would be neat to run with a post from this blog. Use something I have written in the past as a launching pad to my entry. But rather than help answer the pertinent question, it only opened more possibilities.

So I am turning to you. What have I written that might be built into a nice entry for the contest? Anything? At all? I was going to link up a few of my favorites over the 3 year history of this site, but decided to give you all a clean slate. Is there a particular post, or theme, or style, or subject that you think would work?

Think about it a moment, and then let me know.

Labels: dirt rag, literature contest, writing

Slowly the high country is melting.  The snow is dripping away filing streams and rivers and lakes.  The air is warmer, brighter.  The mountains greener, friendlier. Summer is at long last breaking the shackles of an over stayed winter.  The Rockies are waking up.

Labels: photos, singletrack, Wasatch

Trails are opening up.  Some because of snow melt, others because they are evolving from faint deer paths to legitimate singletrack.  And so the options are increasing, multiplying.  From singletrack to singletrack, ridge to ridge and canyon to canyon, the world is being linked together. Ripe for the exploring. 

Labels: photos, ride, singletrack

"The far off horizon impressed me no less. Once again, as in childhood, I saw the soft blue distance inviting me like an open door. And once again I was overcome by the feeling that I was not born for the life of a perpetual stay-at-home among my fellow men in towns and houses, but for pilgrimages through foreign lands and journeys over the sea. I felt the old melancholy impulse to fling myself on God’s breast and merge my own insignificant life into the infinite and eternal."

Labels: Kokopelli, KTR, moab

Hitting the snooze button...


Saturday, the second day of the back to back white rim rides started and ended in much the same way--with me lying in the dirt. I awoke groggy, a little sore. No, I was very sore. My ankle was inexplicably swollen and painful. I was snug and comfortable in the bivy sack. Around me the sound of gas stoves boiling water hissed above the wind.

I decided it would be a good day to sleep late.

Keith prodded me out of the sack, and soon enough I was spinning along Mineral Bottom road. Stiff and saddle sore, but surprisingly excited about the day ahead. It is fantastic what the prospect of riding with great company can do to a tired psyche and achey bones.

As the day wore on I wore out. I climbed as much as Hardscrabble as I could. At the top I found a rock that perfectly fit the contour of my back. A $1,000 massage could not have felt better than that red rock lining the side of the road atop Hardscrabble. I laid there for a while, the rest of the group milling about snatching goodies from the sag wagon and swapping tales from the recent climb. A few wondered aloud if they would have the energy to finish the ride. I knew I could finish. But I dreaded rising up from my awkwardly comfortable rock.

Ten miles later I was done. I cleaned the Horse Thief switchbacks for the second time in as many days. I was happy. I was tired.

And I had a mad craving for a cream soda.

The most comfortable rock in the desert

Labels: epic, moab, rawrod, white rim

As I wandered about the race course on Saturday shooting and rooting, I noticed things that while speeding through the dust on a bike I would have never seen. Some days there is nothing better than hammering until you can't see, can't think, can't hear.

Other days, it is nice to simply stand and watch.

Labels: ICUP, photos, races

The bicycle is a simple device.  Apply force to a crank and a chain, which turns a cog, which turns a wheel.  Forward progress. That simple act has been pushed to the brink by cyclists for well over a hundred years. From the very beginning people have used bikes to cross mountains, cross nations, and simply enough, to cross the street.

There is a smooth beauty in the way a bike works. The fluid motion of pedaling, the speed, the control-- all beautiful.

Naturally riding a bike is appealing to many people. And naturally, those people tend to cluster together. How many times have you nodded or waved to a passing cyclist, a complete stranger. There is unity and friendship in the very act of riding a bicycle. Even roadies and mountain bikers have been known to, although very subtly, acknowledge one another when paths are crossed.

I have realized over the last few months just how much of an impact the simple act of pedaling a bike has had on my life. And the results were, to me, astonishing. I am not referring to the physical impacts of riding and training. No doubt, my fitness is better because of my riding, but I am thinking of a different impact. One less tangible and obvious.

I am speaking of course about people.

As I look around, I see that my closest friends today are people I met because I ride a bike. They are fellow racers and riders. People who at first were just "bike friends", and who are now much more than that. They are people I would not hesitate to help, or to ask for help in any situation. Biking is no longer the reason for the time spent together, but just another accessory to the friendship.

This is never more evident than when one of these people is in need of real, actual help.

Keith invited me to race for the Mad Dog Cycles team in 2001. He was recruiting people for a team he wanted to start up. Seven years later and the team is still going strong. In that time both Keith and I relocated, and ended up across the street from each other. Because we already knew each other, it opened the door for our wives and kids to get to know one another. And today our two families are great friends.

I was thinking about Keith's sister Sharon recently. Sharon rode on the team with us. So did her husband Greg. Sharon passed away in November 2007. She fought brain cancer with all she had. She left behind her husband and two kids, ages 3 and 1.

And now today, I am thinking of Elden. His wife has been fighting cancer for some time now. Saturday he and his family received difficult news. He wrote that "absent a miracle, Susan only has months to live."

And now I sit here, and I think of the bicycle again. There is nothing overly impressive about it. And yet, it has changed my life. Without it I would not know so many of the great people I now consider friends. I would not have ever known Sharon. I would not have witnessed the call to arms that so many people answered when Chris and Jefe rolled the Element. I would not know Elden. And I would not ache for him and his family today.

I would not know of all the support that everyone is offering each other. There would be no RAWROD or KTR or ICUP or CarboRocket, that is none of those things for me.

My life is better off for knowing these people. My life is better because I can feel a little of the pain they experience. My life is better because of my friends. And really, I am not sure that other interests or hobbies in my life would come close to impacting me the way the bicycle has. I have friends all over the country, simply because we each enjoy riding a 2-wheeler.

And so I welcome that ache. I know I am still human. I know that someday these same people may be aching for me and my family. And to know that brings me comfort, even when I am not in need of it. I do not know if what I feel helps those who are most effected. I do not know that my sadness when Sharon passed helped Keith and his family. What about Bill Corliss's wife and son? Did my sleepless nights help them rest easier? And I do not know that the hopeful ache in my chest today is helping the Nelsons. I like to think that on some level it is. Maybe just knowing that there are countless people backing you is powerful enough to raise a person above the darkness? I think it is. I hope it is.

I am drawn each spring to Desert Solitaire. I quote from that book often. And again today I am reminded of something Abbey wrote. "The only thing better than solitude, is society. . . ." I often write about the joy of being alone in the mountains or the desert. But that solitude is only appreciated when offset with good company. What good is there in experiencing a great story, if there is nobody to listen to it afterwards?

People. Bicycles. A simple, yet powerful combination.


Thank God for the bicycle, and for the people who ride them.

Labels: bikes, cancer, friends, win

Christmas Day 2007, Sundance Resort

Winter... please. Go away. You have over stayed your welcome. Your time has passed. Move along and let spring and summer arrive in peace. No more fighting, no more hanging about on the porch. The snowfall you brought us this year was magnificent. It is appreciated. But your milling around is causing perfectly good spring days to... not be perfectly good.

The southern hemisphere is waiting. You are late. Go. Now. See you again in November.

Labels: photos, winter