I love the trails in the reserve. They are close to my house and I can access them almost entirely on dirt. And I did just that this morning.
As miraculous as it may sound, I dragged my weary ass out of bed at 6 this morning. Took my pee and popped some whole wheat in the toaster for my morning P and J. Then things started to go down hill. The longer I was awake the more I wished I wasn’t. I felt tired and my legs felt like I had already knocked out 20 miles. Unfortunately I hadn’t. I had only worked 10 full hours the day before and my legs had paid the price for all my standing. I fought the erge to return to bed and throw the towell back on the rack. I won.
I was hoping to leave by 6:30 but didn’t manage to escape the house until 7 for the above mentioned reasons. It was nice and cool when I left but that didn’t last too long. By the time I went irreverently ripping through the cemetary I was warmed up, hacking up tons of mucus and still feeling like I should have stayed in bed. At the bottom of the Jacob Hamblin Home trail there is a spring. It was actually cold as I came down by the flag poles. I had the enjoyment of laughing at a lady’s dog as its fat ass went chasing a rabbit. It reminded me of my dogs. But no rest here.
I continued to the JHH and jumped the road (in its entirety) to hit the dirt road up to the Barrel Roll. As I entered the parking log another fit of coughing hit me and I stopped to rest, hack and take in some agua. I was pleasently surprised to find the trailhead void of humanity, maybe this really would be a solo ride.
I chose to follow the same route the Alliance had on Saturday and headed over to the Rim loops to start off the singletrack. I wasn’t feeling the flow like I had on the previous ride but was still able to enjoy the rolling trails and the beauty the mesa offered.
Once I got the downhill momentum going on the backside of the mesa, I felt like I was riding instead of slowly forcing myself into a grave I wasn’t ready for.
I jaunted down through the ravine and back up to the Barrel Roll. Again I stopped at the parking lot and took in some water, checked the phone and restarted the music. There still wasn’t any one there.
I headed up the trail, took the left on to Sidewinder and slowly dragged myself to the point and back down. By this point the temperature was getting rather warm. I pulled the zipper on my jersey down a bit, sucked in some fluids and continued. I was there to ride.
Right after the bus stop I jumped back on the Barrel Roll loop and headed to the next point. The sweat began to flow down off my nose and make my glasses a bit difficult to see through. By the time I stopped to enjoy the view at the point I had gotten hungry so I stopped and snacked on a granola bar and snapped a shot.
After the refuel, I jumped on and headed through the one technical section on the ride, cleaned it and headed down the mesa. I was now feeling the flow and began to space out on a regular basis only to be jolted back to life by rocks. I rolled my way back to the trail head and stopped to restart the music and get some water. Then the Wilson Crew pulled in so I chatted it up for a bit. Apparently they had never been out to the reserve so I pointed them in the right direction. And then I rode home.
It was a good day.
Out.
I’m serious, the more you talk about the wonder of the SCRR, the more jealous and reminiscent I become!
I’m almost breaking down to break my bank to get a bike and join you. I’m dying over here–here in the confines of a small metropolitan area filled with douchebags that eat white bread, jello and runs cyclists off the road.
If I can’t get a bike or a loaner, I could still hike BR. I did that a few times in the past with much enjoyment. It let me spend more time on photography and relaxation.