With a good part me wishing I was driving North to Hood, instead of West, to Utah, I bid hellA adieu and hit the road Thursday afternoon. 7 fun filled hours later, friends were met in the thriving town that is Parawan, UT, and we made our way up the canyon (is that the only way to get to any mountain in Utah?) to Brianhead. Campground found and established, the head soon hit the pillow as dreams of aspen-laden singletrack created a fitfull sleep. I wanted to get on my bike.
A freshly shorn, and almost unrecognizable Telephil and friend were met the next morning and we set off to the first ride. It goes something like this: go up, but not real far, wheeze, cursing sea-level lungs. Go out, across the flat plateau, jump here, brake there, pedal, pedal, pedal, lean, jump, duck, breathe, smile, because the sun is out, the sky is blue, and you are on a perfect swath of 10" wide dirt. Do I really need to go into why this sport is so much fun?
Soon the plateau and its beautiful vista are left behind as aspen forest envelops us and pulls us into her womb. Light filters in an out as the trail weaves and snakes its way down, down, down. Shadow turns to light faster than the mind can register, and white bark and green leaves are not so much seen as they are sensed, streaked in a haze of dust and speed. Powder it is not, but whoops of joy are given nonetheless, and the same grins seen on a deep day are found plastered on the faces of those aboard this rollercoaster ride down the mountain. Stop, breathe, smile, take it all in, then do it all over again.
The second ride of the day would find us in a pine forest, whose needles lay a perfect carpet to the start of yet another high-alpine masterpiece. Easy rolling soon gives way to white-knuckle breaking around steep switchbacks which soon leads to a trail that allows you to lay off the brakes, pick up speed, and hope you are quick enough to avoid slamming a shoulder into the trees that are merely flashes in the peripheral. And then the trees part. Black soil gives way to red dirt, as the fringes of Cedar Breaks and its multi-hued escarpments dominate the view.
Then it is back down, (the theme of the trip) where the white-knuckling before proves to be but a tame warm-up to the steep, loose, switch-backing of the trail now before us. A little skill, and a lot of balance will deposit one without dab to the next stage of singletrack utopia. We say hello to the aspen again, twisting and winding around their white trunks and are soon spit out to a dirt road, more dual slalomesque than actual road. I usually have a general disdain for riding roads, but dangit, this is fun. High speeds make turning an act of desperation, as trees play the role of protective barrier, and soon it is back on the singletrack and more high speed blitheness.
Occasional hills keep the legs warm and the lungs healthy, but these trails are all about the rail, and just how fast a corner can be taken, and how willing you are to go out on the edge of control, being just on the verge of losing it. It is difficult to pinpoint at what juncture in the trail full satisfaction is achieved. Is it the small air to the straight run out? The aspen-lined meadow? The high-speed warp tour through the pines? The feeling of satisfaction for a good save when ultimate doom seemed eminent? Or the smile on the faces of self and friends for good times shared and a kick-ass trail ridden?
You could say I was thinking these things as we met up with Mr Altagirl, Altagirl and friends, but mostly I was just stoked get back on the bike for the second day in a row. It’s always fun riding with those two and their friends, as they are a fast, absolutely ripping bunch. The day varied from the first with the mere fact that we did the same rides at different times. But it was the same result, if not better. Because with familiarity of a trail comes knowledge of just where and when the fingers can lay off the brakes, and just a bit more speed can be had. And the new company just made the grins that much wider and the ride that much more memorable.
We finished the day; myself, Mr Altagirl, Altagirl, Rotney, and k trials riding the lifts and sessioning one of the DH runs Brianhead has to offer. It’s funny how things work. As much fun as the the other trails are, and seriously, if you are living in Utah, do yourself a favor and head down there. It’s easy to sit back and wax poetic about the greatness of singletrack that winds through the trees, but it is something else entirely to experience it. But like I was saying, these last lift-served runs were the proverbial icing. Fun and very fast with multiple jumps thrown in for good measure. Basically what I’m saying, is don’t miss out on some lift rides while there.
I started this off trying to wax poetic, but time has worked against me, as had any supposed ability to put to word the experience. But oh well. Thanks go out to kick ass friends, and a great riding crew. Oh, and congrats to Telephil, for overcoming a nice digger and still finishing second. It was fun to roll up on my big bike to the start between our rides and see Telephil and all the other leg-shavers all spandexed up, and yell at Phil as his group sprinted off the star. Major props to those that charge that hard uphill on a bike.
Oh, and one other thing to the Utards: get your asses to I-street with frizzo. That places freaking rocks. Nice, long, fast jumps that aren’t all lippy and scary. So much fun was had. And I want to hear about some other maggot doing the step-up across the ravine. Remember, speed is your friend. And frizzo, next time I'm in town you'd best be hitting those jumps on the left. As always, the maggots stand up. Many pics to come from this trip in the coming week.
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