Early, while it was still cool, we headed over to the Poison Spider Bike Shop to get some directions and general advice. Novices both at Moab and relatively at biking, we knew much better than to tackle to generous country without any guidance. The folks at Poison Spider were great, going so far as to pull down a topo map and point out some territory. Since we were still planning on heading to Colorado for more snow, we only had the one day to bike ride...in fact we thought we'd be heading out that afternoon after the ride. The Spider said with such limited time that we had to do Slickrock. So armed with a free map we headed off in that direction.
It costs $5 for a three-day pass into the Sand Flats Recreation Area, where there are over eight campgrounds and unlimited bike riding. (Even motorcycle and jeep trails cross the BLM land...you can even take dirt bikes on the Slickrock trail, as the area was originally discovered and rode almost exclusively by motorcross guys.) We headed right for the Slickrock Trailhead, parked the rig and got out the bikes. We packed some water and snacks, and headed off towards the practice loop. We were looking really stylie, in our jeans and t-shirts and snowboarding helmets. It was hard not to mistake us for professional mountain bikers, and we noticed that many of the passing bikers stared at us as they cruised by in their spandex and aerodynamic helmets...they were probably trying to remember our names from one of the pro biking magazines. Not.
Aryn on the way down.
Right off the bat we met the first of the cool people that would look past our outrageous attire and befriend us. Renee, from Boise, originally from Maryland, used to live in Durango and Aspen and Park City, was a Moab veteran. She showed us a few tips for riding Slickrock, shared some of her knowledge for tricky spots on the trail, and agreed to ride with us...which ultimately made our day that much greater.
Two stylie rider (oh yeah) and Renee.
Later down the trail, we met four blokes from Vancouver, Chris, Bill, Chad and Chris, who were spending a few days in Moab before heading off to Park City for summer work on the Olympic preparations. We tagged back and forth with them along the trail throughout the day, but later learned that they were much more hardcore than us, as they did the entire main trail, and then went back for all the spurs and side trails. And one guy even had a broken wrist!
The Hardcore Canadians.
A few miles into it, we met John, from Steamboat, Colorado, and Damien, from France. John had biked in Moab many times, and we hooked up with them for the duration of the trail. We stretched the ride out until 5:30 in the evening, taking long breaks where we'd chat about adventures gone and those to come. John and Renee were both experienced whitewater rafters, and we continued to be impressed as they each told us of incredible experiences, like the time when John kayaked from southern Alaska to Seattle, or when Renee turned a summer in Aspen into four years.
Brant and John at the summit.
The day was beautiful and the riding was AWESOME. Incredibly challenging in many places, the entire 9.6 miles was steeped with the incredible scenery of rising red sandstone, pillars and arches, and the mighty Colorado River carving through it all. Some of the inclines (or declines depending on which direction we were riding) were unbelievable. How a person on a bicycle is able to ascend such slopes is a true testament to the amazing abilities of the human being. And how the rubber of the tires is able to adhere to the sandstone across double-fall lines (that's when you're on a slope before you and a slope to the side)...that is amazing as well.
The end of the day brought a bit of sunburn, a dose of dehydration, and plenty of tired muscles. It also brought an incredible feeling of accomplishment and triumph. And the desire to do it again as soon as possible.
