Wining

Getting together with the girls for a glass of wine* is a wonderful thing. Unlike guys girls just don’t say, “Let’s hang out and drink beer.” Although I have many friends with whom I thoroughly enjoy quaffing back a beer or two, I do like the pretense of class (I say “pretense” because I don’t consider myself very refined or elegant) and holding a wine glass gives me that. Why does it seem to evoke visions of women in classy dresses smiling and laughing together?

And to be honest, it’s never just “a glass of wine”. If the bottle is open, it’s likely going to be empty by the time we are finished**. Now don’t get me wrong – it’s not as if we can’t sit and talk without alcohol.
We’ve done that many times over Gatorade after a race or coffee after a bike ride. But the act of purposely getting together for a glass of wine gives the gathering a sense of purpose.

More often than not for me, getting together for a glass of wine with a girlfriend(s) translates into, “I need to vent, let’s crack open a bottle of red spill our guts.” There’s nothing more comforting than sitting around with like-minded individuals, who know that you care about what they have to say, will listen to what’s on your mind and, more importantly, won’t judge you for any of it. I think that’s the crux. It’s a safe environment filled with trust friendship and the wine just adds another layer on top.

We don’t necessarily solve the world’s problems during these get-togethers, or even solve our own, although we do spread the wealth of good news, air our dirty laundry and contribute suggestions to get through the rough spots.

And as if we need more ammunition to drink wine, studies show that red wine is a wonder drug that leads to better sex, makes you smart, and keeps you thin. What more could a woman ask?

I cherish times like this. They are most often spontaneous, but in some instances may involve a bit of planning to accommodate all of our crazy schedules (training, kids, work, family). Regardless of how we do it, it’s worth it when you’re with friends.

(*substitute gin for wine if you wish, Bombay Sapphire to be specific)
(** if you have substituted gin for wine here please be advised that unless there are over 10 of us, or we have an 8oz bottle, it won’t be emptied – we aren’t crazy!)

Mountain Biking Grand Junction --> Lunch Loops/Tabeguache Trail

This was our last day of riding and for those who aren’t mountain bikers and wonder when this drivel will end; this will be my last post on the Utah/Colorado Trip.

We had only the morning to ride and had arranged a late check out to allow ourselves a couple hours on the trails and still have time to get back to the hotel for a shower before hitting the road home.

This was our third attempt at riding the Lunch Loop Trails. Finally success! The last time we’d pulled into the parking lot we encountered riders with mud-encrusted bikes. They’d been unable to dodge the rain that started mid-way through their ride and had to get back to the trail head in pouring rain and on wet trails. They’d advised us that the trails were still really slippery and muddy and that we could do our bikes some real damage (not to mention the trails) if we ventured out. That was the day we gave up and headed to Moab.


This time we were in luck. It was overcast and breezy but with the promise of a sunbeam or two. Again, we consulted the trail map to see where we were going to ride. The book we had promised more trails than we had time for. And once more, one of the locals came over with advice. Mountain bikers are just so friendly and accommodating! Everyone we met was all too pleased to chat with us and share stories of the trails they’d ridden. The guy told us that almost everyone rides the Pet-e-Kes trail up to the ridge. It is a newer trail. Before it was built riders had to be content with riding the uneventful dirt road up to the top. The trail builders have done an amazing job in making the trail challenging enough for the ride up. Most of the ascent is a twisty switchback ride that goes around the outside of some steep hills. The trail is certainly wide enough to ride, but the corners were sharp and I had to dab multiple times and sometimes stop altogether.
I know if it was a flat trail I would have had no issue manipulating the corners but something about a seeing a drop off out of the corner of my eye psyches me out. I need to get over that. Once up at the top we had a bunch of choices. The trails are well marked – much like the 18 Road Trail system in Fruita, and it would be nearly impossible to get lost. Still, we had taken a picture of the trail map just in case we needed to consult it at a later time.

From Pet-e-Kes we took the High Noon trail up to a short piece called the Lemon Squeezer. There was a black diamond on the sign which indicated it wasn’t for novices. The boys wanted to give it a go, so I let them lead, and followed behind. From what I could determine one would require a Danny Macaskill bike and Danny Macaskill skills to ride this section flawlessly. Needless to say, I have neither so I walked most of this trail.
Once through the Lemon Squeezer, which Bob valiantly attempted to ride (and from our point of view, quite successfully all things considered) we joined up with Raven Ridge. This is a scenic trail that runs all along the ridge overlooking the parking lot and Grand Junction in the distance. There are some technical parts in the first half, but the rest is just a beautiful ride along the rim. From there you hook up to Curt’s Lane which was a slightly tense descent at the end of the ridge with hairpin switchbacks all the way down. The wind was howling the day we were there, thankfully blowing us into the hill and not off the side. I rode most of the switchbacks down except for one hairy one where I had to stop and physically pick up my bike and place it in the opposite direction. I am constantly amazed that people are able to ride this. Maybe with practice some day I could but right now I feel like more of a hobbyist than anything.
The last run down to the parking lot was bittersweet knowing we had to leave that afternoon.


As we loaded the bikes onto the car we found a lone Corona in the cooler. Sharing it the gnarly boys and I promised to come back soon and ride again.

Mountain Biking Fruita – Prime Cut, Kessel Run and Joe’s Ridge

Another day, and yet another different riding experience.

We reluctantly left Moab as we really wanted to ride some of the Fruita/Grand Junction trails that had been rained out earlier in the week. We arrived in Fruita to a beautiful sunny day and a jammed 18 Road trail head parking lot. (We had arrived the day before the Fruita Fat Tire Festival. The parking lots reflected that. If only we’d planned better we’d have been able to partake in the festivities.)

What I found interesting is that in Moab the ratio of men to women was about 5:1. In Fruita men completely outnumbered the women – more like 25:1. I only saw two women in the parking lot, and only 1 on the trails when we were out. I’m sure there must be more women riders in Fruita.

We geared up and went over to the trail map to see how to proceed. The way many of the trails in this area are set up are out and back (or more aptly up and down.) Some of the local riders recommended that we take the Prime Cut trail up to the top as it’s a pretty singletrack that climbs gradually to the upper parking lot. Most people park in the lower lot and then ride up the trails. It is much nicer to end the day on a downhill than to have to slog up to the top to finish the ride.

Prime Cut was a nice warm-up, not too technical but had enough rocks and twists to keep me on my toes. The funny thing was I was laboring for breath with every twist and turn. I had to remember that I was 4500 ft above sea level (and still climbing), and my prairie-raised body is used to 800 ft. When we got to the top parking lot we stopped for a breath and a sip and a check at the map to see which trail we were going to take down. A bunch of riders came whipping into the parking lot and saw us consulting the trail map. They came over and asked if we wanted to ride with them. They were heading over to ride Zippety Do Dah. We’d read about it in one of the trail books and it was described as having an intense pucker factor (as much of it is along a ridge) with extremely steep downhills. One of the guys said that you ride many of the descents so far back on your bike that your seat is in your chest. We opted not.

We decided to have some fun and ride the Kessel Run down to the parking lot. It had been wildly endorsed by fellow riders from home who had ridden it last year. Like the famed Millenium Falcon that made the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs you can make this run in less than 15 minutes . It’s a fast flowing trail that slaloms up and back through a dry creek bed. It’s full of twists and turns as it sweeps back and forth all the way down the hill. The first time down I got into the rhythm about half way down. Sadly it was over before I knew it.

The second grind up we decided to see if the road was any easier. I found it wasn’t, as it was a direct climb to the upper parking lot with no opportunity to rest. At least with Prime Cut there were spots you could rest and swoop to the other side before starting to pedal again. The road was straight, dusty and boring. You live and you learn.

Our second run down was Joe’s Ridge. Fittingly named, it runs along a ridge for most of the bottom half of the trail. I was able to ride most of this except for one steep descent. Normally it wouldn’t have fazed me, but this descent was along a gravelly ridge with the sides dropping off at a startlingly steep inclines. I did begin to ride the hill, but my rear tire was sliding back and forth so much in the gravel that I was afraid it was going to go over the edge. It wasn’t a “Death on the Left” kind of drop, but I could envision myself taking a long ugly gravel slide all the way down if I fell, and I wasn’t up for that. After that the rest of Joe’s was totally within my skill level. At the bottom it connected with the lower half of Kessel Run so I got the chance to give that one another go. This time I was quicker, smoother and much more coordinated than I was the first time down. Unfortunately, this was the last run of the day.

I will put this on my wish-list for the next time we come back. There are so many other trails that I still want to ride I think we need more than a week there. And I want to do Kessel again – What a blast!

Lower Porcupine Singletrack (LPS) and Porcupine Rim

Porcupine Rim, according to all the things I’ve read, is the second most popular ride in Moab. It definitely has some the most breathtaking panoramas I have ever seen. This trail is only part of what is known in the area as The Whole Enchilada; which encompasses several trails including Burro Pass, Hazard County, Upper Porcupine Singletrack (UPS), LPS, and Porcupine Rim.

We were in Moab in April, and everything above LPS was still deep in snow. We were shuttled up to the highest possible starting point, LPS, and even then there was a dusting of snow on the trails. The majority of the ride is downhill, but that certainly doesn’t mean it’s easy. Quite the contrary.

This kind of riding was more familiar to me, complete with lots of tight singletrack through small shrubs and trees, mud, rocks and roots. It took me a while to get my riding legs back after a day on smooth wide open rock. The trail was technical but not discouragingly so…yet. After some twists and turns and some awesome views of the Castle Valley from up top the mesa the trail emerges into a double jeep track. This section is like a rough rocky road. We began the flight down, and I call it a flight because the speed creeps up on you if you aren’t careful, and you can hit air during certain points of the ride.

This is where I scared myself multiple times. The lines that most riders pick are easy to spot by the tire tracks. On the rockiest and roughest drops the easiest lines are usually to the immediate left or right of the road. There were a couple times when I came flying around a corner and was unable to veer to the outside lines. My bike dropped once, twice, three times…and these weren’t small drops…Again the only way to explain it is to throw in a video. 27 seconds in demonstrates this style of riding. (note that I did NOT ride the “diving board” drop that is shown 4 times in this video)



Even though I didn’t have to pedal much my quads were burning from hovering over the seat and manoevering the downhill. There was a section of rock that appeared to be an easy slope. Near the bottom a bunch of riders had stopped for a bite to eat before tackling the next section of trail. It was here that I took a tumble. I had approached a bench-type drop that seemed straight forward. What I didn’t know as I went over the edge was that the next step curved inward instead of being a flat rock. I guess I didn’t have enough speed to keep rolling over it as my front tire stopped dead and I flew off the bike and onto my left shoulder and side right into the rock base. Ow!! My first fall on rocks. (It’s much harder than the sand and soil I’m used to falling on ;0))There were cheers as I rose, gave the thumbs up and got back on my bike to continue.

At about the 10 mile point the trail began to narrow back to more singletrack and started to wind around the canyon rim. I was told that there is no shame in walking your bike through some of these sections. And I did just that. Riders ahead would yell out “Death on the right!” when a particularly steep drop was coming up. This was my cue to dismount and live.



Although I didn’t ride many parts of the Porcupine Rim section I watched with envy as other riders manoevered the tricky trail seemingly without effort. I kept telling myself that they ride this stuff all the time.
Once we were past the scariest parts I was able to ride the rest of the trail back to the highway. I would love to ride this trail again. My favourite part was actually the middle section where we were flying down drops and steps. There was little time to think so instinct took over. It's amazing what instince can do! What a ride!

It’s as easy as riding a bicycle...right - not at Slick Rock

Ok, so I know how to ride a bicycle....or at least I thought I did before I went to Moab. Then I realized that I didn’t really know very much, and I would have to re-learn what I thought I knew…and then I realized I would have to do this each time I rode a new trail.

Moab is a playground for mountain bikers. There are a plethora of trails, too numerous to name all of them, and each comes with its own rider requirements.

My first trail was Slickrock – a Mecca known around the world by mountain bikers. It wasn’t supposed to be the first. I was supposed to be gradually initiated into desert riding by an introductory ride in Grand Junction Colorado on the Horsethief Bench Trail. But insistent rain for two days, which renders most trails unrideable due to slippery rock or sticky mud, and an encouraging sliver of blue sky to the west, forced us to discard those plans and head to Moab, hoping to salvage at least part of a day’s ride. It was still pouring when we arrived. Inquiries at the local bike store emerged with the information that the only rideable trail when it is raining is Slick Rock. Because we didn’t want to wrestle tents in the rain we decided to give it a go, hoping for the skies to clear up before we set up camp.

The parking lot was full of riders, gearing up, tweaking bikes and lingering around, which gave the LBS full credibility. Slick Rock has a two mile practice loop which is recommended you ride before heading out on the 10.6 mile proper. This is so you can gauge whether or not you have the technical ability to ride the rest of the trail. (There are no bow-outs once you hit the trail and it’s nearly impossible to walk out of Slick Rock) We headed out in the pouring rain, following the white paint marks. The first 500 metres were great. I was grinding up the steep slopes and gliding down the other side.

It was disconcerting at first. My first instinct when I see wet rock is to put my bike away. Granite, which is what I normally ride on, is deadly slippery in the rain. Slickrock isn’t. The nature of the rough sandstone actually promotes rubber gripping. You can ride on a camber that defies belief and your tires will stick to the side of the hill. This took some pretty big leaps of faith for me as I rode across some slopes that were literally sheeting with water. But as promised, the rock held onto me, or more aptly, my bike.

Then we came to a steep downward slope that dipped and disappeared half way down then reappeared with what looked like a sharp curve to the right at the bottom. I braked, stared down the hill and for the first time in my riding history I froze with fear. My riding partners, Clayton and Bob, had flown down the hill and were waiting for me patiently, but nothing would move except my heart which was beating erratically and out of my chest. Nothing I could do could coax my body to get on that bike and ride that hill. Nothing. So I stood there, staring at the hill and getting more and more freaked out. I started to shake, but I’m not sure if it was with fear or from the cold as the rain was now pouring down. Clayton called up to me several times, telling me that he knew I could ride this, but all I could do was shake my head and refuse to move. So he came back up and told me that we could go back to the parking lot and wait for Bob to finish the loop.

Following Clayton and feeling dejected and miserable, but mostly angry with myself I cautiously began riding back to the trail head. There were another couple of steep slopes that I had ridden up on the way out. They gripped my tires and nothing would let go. I’m not sure what switch flipped in my brain but I stopped and decided that I would not, could not, be bested so soon. The practice loop hills are nowhere as steep or as long as the main loop. If I wanted to ride at all, I had to beat that hill. Turning around we made our way back to the dreaded drop. It was still as steep and the rain was still pouring down. Clayton led the way and stopped at the bottom. He coached me as I reversed my bike back as far as the rock would allow so I could mount the bike and clip in before I reached the hill. Then moving my body back over the rear tire as I’d been taught, and applying steady pressure on the rear brake I maneuvered very slowly down the feared hill. I released the brake at the bottom and coasted through the turn at started up the next hill.

To get a sense of how steep these hills are fast forward to the 57 second point of this video:



Two or three of these hills later I was riding with a confidence that had, up until that point, eluded me. After half an hour the sun began to break through and the rock immediately dried up. We met up with Bob who had ridden the loop once and then started back so he wouldn’t miss us if we decided to ride back out.

It was getting to be late in the afternoon so we reluctantly agreed that we needed to go and check into the campground, and get the tents set up before evening, and before it rained again, which unfortunately, it was threatening to do. So after about three miles of riding the practice loop I was ready for the real thing the next day.

We did the full loop the following day in beautiful sunshine and I am happy to report that I rode every single downhill but one (the last one was at the end of the ride, extremely steep, and I was getting tired – not a great combination). Watch the video in its entirety to appreciate the stark beauty and vastness of the area. It is very difficult to not look around while riding so we made many stops along the way to check out the vistas.



Of all the trail that week this one was by far my favourite. I can’t wait to go back. And I will go back!