When we set out from Portland it was raining, but it didn’t take too much driving before we left the wet behind. I left a lot behind, and part of this trip for me is reevaluating my life. Leaving things behind and viewing them from afar. We had about 15 hours in the car, and a lot of time to think. Caught in my thoughts. It’s kind of torturous when you have an obsessive mind and lots of things to think about, mull over and generally loop through–over and over and over again. I am hoping by the end of this trip those things will have melted away and I will be left with nothing but the dust of Fruita slowly settling.
The only time when my mind is clear is on the flowy single track. When all the stress and all the crazies sink away and I am left with nothing except about 10-15 feet in front of me.
We arrived at our hotel in Fruita, it was 3am, and we crashed fast. And were up again at 9:30am. Ride ride ride! We were out and ready to ride by noon, and damn was it awesome. Flowy flowy flowy. The desert is amazing, this landscape is so alien to me. Since this is the first time on my mountain bike (besides Forest Park) since, say, September, it took me about an hour to remember how to ride it. Sit Back. Stand up. Look ahead. Lean, don’t steer. Eventually I got my mojo back.
We went on the double-diamond experts trail at one point, where I almost had a panic attack. It was all drop-off ridge lines, crazy shit. The trail itself wasn’t really technical, it was just scary as hell. I was hoping I had left the scared-of-heights thing behind, but apparently not. Almost there. One trail at a time.
By the end of the day, 4.5 hours out on our bikes on 4 hours of sleep, we were pleasantly exhausted, and ready for another day. I just hope I’m not too sore for our slated 25 mile trail.
