Jason and I went snowshoeing up American Fork Canyon on one of our favorite biking trails recently. It was strange to see those well-known hillsides transformed from a dense growth of leafy underbrush and gracefully attired aspens to a landscape dominated by dark hued pines in a frosty sea of powdery snow. The scene seemed alien and familiar at the same time; kind of like the face of a good friend that you haven’t seen for a while and you find surprisingly altered since you last met.

We trekked up to one of my favorite spots in the canyon, a large meadow that I have lingered in during many biking outings. It was almost as lovely swathed in windswept untracked snow as it is in the spring when lush grasses adorn it.

We quite enjoyed ourselves…though Jason did complain periodically about his “aching calves” as we climbed one hill after another. But his wimpy muscles couldn’t squelch the joy of blue skies, fresh air, and gorgeous views.

Gotta love those Utah mountains! They are beautiful in any season!

I love fall: the crisp fiery leafs, the refreshingly cool air, the warm but not harsh sunshine, the scrumptious local peaches and apples. It’s easily my favorite season. However, in order to properly enjoy fall one must ignore the underlying, glaringly obvious, fact that its arrival means winter is quickly and unavoidably advancing. As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t much redeeming about the bleakness of winter, with snowboarding being one of the few exceptions. Being cloaked in a shroud of bitterly cold darkness for months doesn’t really appeal to me. But for now, as the days get shorter and the air gets brisker, I’ll do my best to overlook the eminent approach of winter and just savor the vibrant pageantry of fall.

There’s no better place to view the beauty of fall than up in our gorgeous mountains. I’ve never been a big fan of passive observation through the window of a vehicle but luckily most Americans seem to prefer surveying the wonders of their world this way. That’s why, when Jason and I decided on a pleasant afternoon that some fall biking up American Fork Canyon was in order, we weren’t too concerned by the hordes of cars littering the canyon roads as they meandered through the autumn scenery. As expected, the crowds on the roads did not impact trail traffic. The path we decided to ride, Ridge Trail 157, was nearly deserted and after we traveled a mile or so in we saw absolutely no one. So were able to appreciate the golden groves of aspens, gilded by the afternoon sunlight, in complete solitude.

We hadn’t ridden this trail for a couple of years and my memory of it was slightly inaccurate. While I very vividly recall it being utterly exhausting I somehow had forgotten that it is also ridiculously technically difficult. It’s packed with crazily steep, rock infested, hills. But Jason and I laughed our way through it and had a great time hopping over tree roots and sliding through gravel. We even somehow managed to survive our adventure nearly injury-free. Delightful! I’d like to thank the people that were too lazy to get out of their cars for making our peaceful ride possible. Thanks for leaving the colorful peaks and sun-drenched glades all to us!