Every summer Jason and I end up participating in quite a few races. We welcome these events because they provide good motivation to train a little faster or a bit longer. Plus, they are an excellent way to measure your athletic progress. While we were involved in our normal number of competitions this year, they didn’t exactly proceed normally for us. For one, Jason’s pace throughout the season was curiously faster. I, on the other hand, kept up my middling speed nicely until I hurt my ankle and then sluggish limping was the best I could do. Oh woeful foot! As the weather gets frigid and the races dwindle, let us look back on all the sprinting glories and frustrations that have come to pass these last months.
Jason zipped to the finish line at the Thanksgiving Point 5K beating out all but two of his competitors.
For years Jason has been able to outpace me on the track. Every step his long legs take requires two of my own. It doesn’t exactly seem fair but it does give me a lovely excuse for lagging. My quick hubby has nearly placed in several races before but he’s never quite managed a win until this summer. This year he was third in his division not only in the Thanksgiving Point 5K but the Lehi City Roundup 10K as well and then he won 1st in his age group at the Night of the Running Dead. What happened to make that boy so speedy? He got old. Jason’s last birthday placed him in a different age division, an age category where he’s among the youngest instead of the oldest. That bit of help was all he needed to become a leader of the pack. But hey, the dude finishes a 5K in about 22 to 23 minutes; I’d say he deserves some recognition for that whether he’s ancient or not.
We were enthusiastic at the Thanksgiving Point 5K from fresh start to sweaty finish.
Our racing plans had to be halted mid-summer because of my accidental ankle altercation. Ironically, I completed a 10K just hours before I tore my tendon and various ligaments for the second, and hopefully last, time. Leftie took me out of the competition circuit for about 5 weeks. My first race after the injury, Sandy’s Moonlight Run, was awesome because it started at midnight under the full moon but not awesome because I barely crept along its course with my braced ankle. Although I made it to the finish line, I was well behind hundreds of hardly runners. If they had handed out a prize for the pathetically slow but stubborn I definitely would have won it.
I promise I actually was moving when this was taken.
Thankfully, broken parts tend to eventually mend, even scarred silly parts like my tendon. My ankle comeback felt complete when I won 3rd place overall at Easton’s 5K a little over 3 months after I gracelessly wounded myself. Yes, I already discussed this win in another post but what’s the harm in mentioning it another time or two or three? Surely, it’s not an unforgivable sin to continually call attention to what will probably be the sole running triumph of my life.
Moonlit runs in the wee hours of the summer are my favorite so I wasn’t going to let a grumpy ankle stop me from participating in this midnight adventure.
That pretty much sums up the summer season of races for us. Jason ran fast. I ran sort of okay, hurt myself, hobbled along, and then picked it up a bit. We look forward to the spring when the world thaws and the competitions commence. Then Jason can once again conquer the other old men and I can further my longstanding mediocrity.
I guess it’s time I face the depressing certainty that the mountain biking season is pretty much dead. Sadly, all it took was a little snow to squelch my delusions of cycling grandeur. It seems appropriate during this time of mourning to discuss our pedaling happenings over the last 6 months so, like it or not, here it comes.
Jacob may not have been the most graceful biker I’ve ridden with on the Pipeline but he kept getting back on his seat mishap after mishap and that counts for a lot.
Jason and I have always extended an open invitation for any daring souls that wish to take a shot at mountain biking to come with us on our adventures anytime. In recent years I don’t think we’ve gotten any takers on that offer. As many of our friends have become pudgier, lazier, or more timid their desire to attempt an extreme sport has dwindled I suppose. That’s why we were surprised when several pals simultaneously indicated that they wanted to try their luck in the mountains with us this year. Adam, Jacob, and Abigail rode with us on multiple occasions over the summer and lived to tell the tale…although some of their skin did not.
Millcreek’s terminus overlooks Salt Lake Valley. It’s an excellent spot for gawking and for taking photos of the conquering variety.
We took Jacob to the Millcreek Pipeline for his first singletrack experience. We picked this trail because we thought it would adequately introduce him to mountain biking without killing him. Technically we were right; it didn’t kill him but it sure hurt him more than we were expecting. Jacob crashed his bike and toppled down steep declines, AKA cliffs, no less than three times while we were on the Pipeline. He got scraped up and shaken but that didn’t stop him from happily hitting the slopes again after each tumble. Way to not be a wimp Jacob!
Adam may not have been thrilled about going up Big Spring Hollow but going down suited him just fine.
Adam and Abigail came with us up Big Spring Hollow for their mountain biking premier. This trail, I’ll admit, is a bit grueling in the uphill direction but its downhill bliss makes up for any ascending anguish. Adam didn’t quite reach the top but he made a valiant effort despite his regular neglect of regular exercise. Abigail, on the other hand, loved this path and asked to go down again after our first descent. Jason and I were happy to oblige.
Abigail didn’t let her hybrid bike get her down.
Ridiculousness sometimes speaks for itself.
We also took all three of them to Lambert Park, one of our favorite singletrack biking spots. Lambert Park is pretty technical but, surprisingly, we didn’t end up having to use the first aid kit I brought on this outing like I thought we would. Abigail and I both had little accidents but neither required bandaging anything except our pride and Jacob, miraculously, broke with tradition by not finding a fine precipice to fall off. Nice going gang!
It’s obvious from this picture that I am an expert. In fact, I expertly hit a root and catapulted myself into a tree just minutes after this was taken.
Along with taking our buddies on some awesome terrain Jason and I hit a few of our favorites solo. The best of those rides, in my opinion, was one we took up American Fork Canyon near the end of September on the Great Western Trail. Fall was in full swing and the bright scenery was gorgeous. The aspens formed a bleached blanket over our heads with their gilded leaves as we rode along. Vibrant yellows and reds consumed the landscape like a surging tide. It was an intense mix of color and cardiovascular.
It’s impossible to overstate the beauty of an unbroken sky above a canopy of twinkling leaves.
Rubbernecking is glorious when you’re tunneling through boughs of golden leaves.
Hooray for biking and hooray for some pals that didn’t let the threat of exercise and injury intimidate them. I hope next year they will hit the peaks with us again and not retreat when the peaks hit back.
When some people need to relax they’ll veg in front of the TV. For others taking it easy might mean going for a drive or hitting the driving range. But for me and Jason nothing says unwinding like biking 15 miles through desert sandpits, gnarly bedrock, and bouncy baby-heads. Yes, for us becoming exhausted in Moab is as relaxing as it gets.
Scampering on your haunches was sometimes necessary while ascending to Castleton Tower.
Isn’t he cute?
Jason and I just made our biannual visit to Moab. We waited to take our fall trip this time until the madness of our party had waned. The weather in Moab in November can be a little touchy but on this occasion it was utter perfection. And by utter perfection I mean t-shirts and shorts and huge smiles.
The way to Castleton Tower wound over quite a few stony ledges.
We started our excursion off with a hike to the base of Castleton Tower, a 400-foot monolith also known as Castle Rock, in Castle Valley. Castleton Tower stands on a cone of boulders and gravel over 1000 feet high, the kind of terrain that appears impassable when you’re looking at it from the bottom. This difficult trail was obstructed often by chunks of stone and hard to follow at times. Ascending it required some creative clambering skills. But, honestly, that’s what made it fun. There’s nothing wrong with strenuous when it’s part of an adventure. We were so enthusiastic about this hike that not only did we make it up to and around the Tower but we also chose to detour on a sketchy path to check out The Rectory, another outcropping of rock that rises above the opposite side of the ridge. We were pretty tired by the time we got back to our car but we were also pretty satisfied with what we had experienced in way of scenery and exploration.
The crest on which Castleton Tower stands provides a narrow division between two craggy lowlands.
The cracked barren valleys below The Rectory and lofty towers adjacent to it fashioned a strange rocky feast.
Our second day in Moab was spent biking the Kokopelli Trail to a place called Yellow Jacket Canyon. We had never ridden this path before so I was as intrigued by the prospects of its new terrain as Jason was by its name. I guess our intrigue got the better of us. We hit this 14.4-mile loop expecting it to be relatively easy in comparison to other Moab trails we have ridden but, although the route was wide enough for off-road vehicles, it was rather rough in places. Sand was the villain of the first third of this expedition. If you’ve never tried going up miles of steep hills on a bike while deep sand attempts to consume your tires you’ve never known frustraustion. Yeah, that’s what happens when frustration and exhaustion get together and produce deformed spawn. We were literally making our way at about 1-2 miles an hour for a while there. At that glorious speed we would have made it back to our car at about never. Luckily, downhill stone eventually replaced uphill sand and we cruised over the deformed bedrock quickly. Quickly, in this case, means we hit speeds up to about 13 MPH but mostly stayed around 6 MPH, which I realize doesn’t exactly fit the standard definition of that word. But hey, after creeping along practically slower than a grandpa with a walker that seemed pretty fast. Lots of bumpy stone and a series of baby-head infested hills later we emerged back onto the highway and from there we were soon back to our car. By the way, for those of you unfamiliar with biking lingo baby-heads are rocks the size of a baby’s head that can make wrecking practically effortless.
The Castleton Tower is one of the most popular rock climbing spots in the world. We gawked at several scaling extremists as we navigated through the boulders below.
Yellow Jacket’s bedrock made for some fun riding.
The view from the top of Yellow Jacket Canyon wasn’t super impressive but it was nice.
Our final call on the Yellow Jacket Canyon section of the Kokopelli Trail? This trail was definitely not as pretty as others we’ve done in the area but the solitude was nice. We only saw one couple on a 4wheeler the whole day. The path was more of a technical treat than we were expecting but the sand sucked unimaginably hard. We’re glad we tried it out but I don’t think it’s going to be top on our list of redos.
The Flat Iron Mesa road went through some scenic spots like this sandstone-encircled grassland.
The scene from the top of Flat Iron Mesa was pretty kicking. Hatch Wash Canyon and Kane Springs Canyon merged below us in a panorama of colorful precipices.
On our final day in Moab we biked Flat Iron Mesa. This trail has a reputation for being an easy family-friendly kind of ride. But that reputation, in our opinion, is not deserved. I don’t know of any children that would willingly conquer Flat Iron’s endless hills. The level of complaining you’d get from the kiddos would make getting them to take the garbage out seem like a delight. No, Flat Iron Mesa wasn’t the easygoing ride we were expecting but I guess since we didn’t ride it for its easygoingness we can’t really grumble about its lack thereof. We were interested in this route because of the enthralling possibilities for sidetracking. Many enticing wilder trails shoot off from Flat Iron making it a great starting place for countless adventures. We took one of these options to an overlook above Kane Springs Canyon. The view from this lofty perch was mesmerizing but the 3.5 mile spur we had to ride to get to it made the rest of the desert look like downtown Manhattan. I don’t think anyone else had ridden this trail in months, maybe years. It was so overgrown in places that deciphering where to stick our bikes was like solving a Sherlock Holmes mystery. When all was said and done, Flat Iron Mesa, with our additional excursion to the end of the known universe, was a 17.5 mile journey that took over 4 hours and finished off any energy reserves we might have had. Fun? Yes. Family-friendly? No.
Jason is literally standing in the middle of the trail we took to the Kane Springs Canyon overlook in this picture. Having trouble seeing it? So did we.
From far above Kane Springs Canyon the vistas were beautiful. At least there was that pot of gold at the end of our eroded rainbow.
Our trip to Moab was predictably fantastic. We’ve never returned from our favorite vacation spot dissatisfied. We biked 32 miles of tricky terrain and hiked to the top of rocky ridges. Now that’s restful! Before you shake your head too much at our choice of relaxation though I should add that there’s not much to do in Moab once the sun goes down and these days the sun goes down pretty early. After dark Jason and I mostly just read books, watched TV, and typed posts. We’d never make time for hours of that at home. So, see, our idea of taking it easy isn’t too far off from yours. We just prefer to ride across the desert before we settle in to read a good book.
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