The sun has just set. The red rocks are glowing with the ending of the day and unfortunately, the wind is blowing. The little bit of warmth we were absorbing from the sun has just disappeared. We roll up to the edge of the cliff, drop our bikes and find as comfortable as a spot to sit as possible. Even with the cold, the spot is beautiful. Red cliffs stretching in both direction and a view of the city as it fades into the evening. Everyone pulls out their beers and we freeze our asses off to drink our ride beer despite the Lounge being within ten minutes of this spot.
Why? Because we’re dedicated, that’s why!
Singlespeed So’Tah
I’m blaming Stanarchy…
It was several beers in and getting late at Singlespeed Nevada when we decided we were going to revive Singlespeed So’Tah. There was a high level of stoke from riding bikes and drinking beers with the misfit family that is the singlespeed community. A round of fuck yeas and we were off to the races.
As these things go, things didn’t go as planned. We had hoped to spend 3 days riding and camping on the Goose cuz that’s pretty much the bee’s knees as the Boomers like to say. The weather this year is a throwback to when rain actually fell in the desert and snow was known to stick to the ground at least once a year in So’Tah. The weekend prior to SSST there was a reported 8″ of snow. Most of which melted and replaced with another 6″ of snow the Wednesday prior.
This isn’t our first dance or our first rodeo and we had already devised a contingency plan when the Mayor sent me the pic of deep snow Thursday morning. Luckily for us, there is plenty of bitchin’ riding in and around St. George. So we just moved venues, devised three new rides and we were off to having ourselves a killer weekend.
Day 1 – The Prologue
The Alliance gathered at the Lounge. The sun was out and there was a slight breeze. The 55 degrees that the mercury was indicating felt a bit cooler than that but still pretty comfy. The stoke was high. There are few things better than riding your singlespeed in the desert. Per the usual, we were a few minutes behind our loose schedule before we started pedaling up to the red cliffs above town.
A quick jaunt on the bike path and we were on dirt ripping a chunky descent across sandstone. A small climb and we were at my Bike Parts Proving Ground, a short, steep and damn chunky little section I’ve ridden so many times that anything that isn’t going to work is felt immediately and anything that is going to work gets me to the bottom with a huge smile. This particular roll was the latter and we were hooting as we hit the bottom and continued ripping around the edge of the canyon.
A few more small ups and downs followed by the stupid Powerline Climb and we were at the high point. The sun was just starting to dip behind the snowcapped Utah Hill. The breeze and the fading sun started the dip in temperatures. We boogied over the stepping stone upper section and ripped the chunky section down to the junction with Owen’s Loop. This was our predesignated beer stop. As described above, it’s a pretty killer spot to have a beer and chill with your friends. In what became a reoccurring theme for the weekend, I didn’t bring a jacket and froze my ass off.
Beers were drank. Laughs were had. And then all we had to do was bomb the chunky descent to Brook’s Nature Trail.
I was particularly stoked to ride this section. Which is anything but out of the ordinary because I love the chunky, but the Red Rock Trail Crew (#thanksbill) had reworked the bottom section building a giant retaining wall and properly assembling a ramp for the exit. I was extra stoked to get to see and personally ride the work. It did not disappoint. The missing tread is back and the ramp is super rad.
Then it was a chilly descent back to the Lounge where we all tumbled into the living room, warmed up and drank more beers.
Whichever Way the Wind Blows
Day 2 was the “Big Ride.”
There are countless big rides that one can conjure in this corner of So’Tah. JT and I had thrown a bunch around and settled on starting at the Lounge, heading to Paradise and then we’ll see which way the wind blows.
Bike path to dirt, to rocks and within minutes we were all having a great time. The sun was covered by thin clouds keeping the temperature a little lower than we would like, but it was still a nice day. As we should have expected, the hoards were out on Paradise. Hikers, bikers, dogs, small children. They were out and we made our way through and around them as we climbed up to the rim. At the rim, the wind blew us up to Scout Cave and we pedaled up to the overlook.
You don’t climb this and then not rip the descent, but that option was thrown around. After a bit of discussion, we decided to do the logical and enjoy the downhill we had already earned. Paradise is a fun rip. Starting at Scout Cave, you end up with a couple of miles of fast, chunky sandstone that’s just rowdy enough to keep you on your toes, but there’s not a huge chance of anyone getting hurt.
And then it was back to decision time as we hit the Castlerock Trailhead. The wind was blowing west and we followed making our way over to Cove Wash via the NICA singletrack around Snake Hollow.
The Red Mountain Ultra was going on in Santa Clara so we rode the road making our way to Stucki. The stoke was high as we found hero dirt and we raced down Traffic Cone and then Fasty Fast. We were all giggling as we hit the trailhead. We stopped at the restroom to resupply water and tinkle just as the sun broke free of the clouds. The wind had stopped, so we were at a bit of a loss for which way to head. We thought about pedaling to Silver Reef Brewing, maybe make our way up to KLC. As we were contemplating our next move, we pulled out our ride beers and enjoyed the sun in the parking lot.
We settled on needing another beer before we could make a sound decision, so we pedaled to Taylorlandia before deciding where to go from there. The warmth of the kitchen and another beer and suddenly it was time for food. After the beer, we made our way to the bike path and headed north.
As per the regular Alliance rules, we stopped in the tunnel and drank some Tequila that Shalena had been toting.
And then we hit George’s demanding all the fried foods.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
The sun was out and feeling amazing as we readied for the last and hardest day. We gathered at CasaZen and pedaled out through the Mayor’s backyard and into the desert with 5 puppies in tow.
The dogs were all stoked and we were all feeling the last few days of pedaling, but we are a dedicated group. Riding from CasaZen is a quick pedal through creosote before hitting Lower Zen. It’s always a punch in the face to go up Hell Hole, but doing it first is always the right decision. About halfway through, Kenny, who had lost a beer and his ProBar already, realized his phone was not in his pocket. His phone also doubles as his wallet so there was some concern as to its location. Shalena chose to flip around at this point with her dogs and would look for the phone. We continued on.
The climb is what the Zen climb is and having tired legs did not help the situation. It took me a few minutes to settle into the rhythmic up and down that is singlespeed climbing, but by the time we hit the Jacker Stacker, I had found my pace. We all rolled the Jacker and immediately attempted SOB Hill. The tired legs certainly didn’t help. We passed a couple of dudedbros and then hit Commitment Issues before making our way to the overlook.
Naturally, we stopped and enjoyed the view, water the dogs and had a snack before heading down and to Billy Goat Hill. Kenny cleaned said hill and then led us into the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. The chunky entrance woke up the last few fibers of my brain that hadn’t gotten out of bed yet and then we were rippin across the top of the mesa. As we hit the drop off the rim, there was a dude on an eBike and his girl wearing full face helmets and doing full face helmet stuff. Mainly just standing around looking at the trail trying to figure out how to ride it. We bombed past them ripping the ladder and the subsequent stupid turn at the bottom.
The ladder bridge is kind of the portal into the steep stuff. After the initial drop and turn, you are exposed on the edge of the mesa before climbing back up an almost as steep section and topping out. Then it’s down two stupid steep rollers that were poorly armored and now are a mess of rocks and ruts next to said rocks. This mess gets the adrenaline going and the speed makes up for the ruts as we hit the lower saddle with grins on our faces. A little more climbing gets us back to some chunky descent and then onto Syler.
Typically, we would have stopped for our ride beer at this point, but as I mentioned, the Mayor had ejected his ride beer in the first ten minutes of the ride puncturing it. The only real option was to chug as much as he could, but this left us with one too few ride beers. So instead, we ripped the loop and headed back toward Moe’s.
The singletrack led us to the sandstone which dropped us into Moe’s. We hung out into the road and found the incredibly faint, almost non-existent trail back to CasaZen. As we hit the back porch, the sun was out, there was little breeze, but it was a beautiful day. We popped a few cans of beers and enjoyed the warmth as SSST came to an end.
Ride Bikes. Drink Beers.
There are few things I enjoy more than riding bikes in the desert with friends and then enjoying a beer or two afterward. We may not have gotten the weekend we planned, but it was still a bitchin’ one.
Sorry if you missed it.
Embrace Chaos. Seek Discomfort.
