eleven.eleven.eleven

Saturday, passengering through the dark nothingness between Mesquite and Las Vegas, after the sun had set in the west, I opened up my pictures from the past 4 days and when I got to one above, one of the first few I’d taken, a point-and-shoot self-timer shot, my camera resting candidly on someone’s truck bed, wind blowing as I set it up and ran to “get in”.

This one says it all.  4 days, 3 states, 3 rides, 5 people, most awesome weekend and birthday celebrations.

I am one lucky woman.

Wednesday Justin and I set off from home just before 4pm, Steph and Dan chasing behind from San Diego, and Jeff sitting at the Denver airport waiting to leave on a jet plane bound for Vegas.

He got there about the same time we did, and from there the epicness began: Hard Rock Hotel for Nobu sushi at 9pm. I set out $22 to gamble, lost it all in 2 bets and off we went – Gooseberry Mesa was calling.

After a few stops it was after 2:30 am local time when we careened down the dirt road, bumbled through the darkness and set up camp in 30F temps, finally settling in for the night around 3:30 am. My feet immediately turned to ice, though the rest of me was more than heated. Sleep, for me at least, was fitful, and I awoke sometime probably around 5 am. I got up, cold breeze blowing and witnessed probably the most amazing sunrise. Though I didn’t watch it all unfold, and I (biggest regret all weekend) did not get my good camera for a shot; the iPhone does it no justice.

I grabbed my expensive electric socks from the truck, put them on, plugged in the battery and laid back down.  Finally within 30-60 minutes I turned the heat from HI to LO and got more fitful sleep before we all started stirring around 9 am.

Good morning, Sunshine

We all got out our Jet Boil French presses and set about making camp breakfast in the blowing wind before we slowly started to dress for our first ride of the trip and one where Justin got to ‘Goose’ everyone else (trail freshness!).

After a self timer shot or two we hit the singletrack and took off in a conga line with Justin leading it out.  For once I felt like I was riding ok and enjoying the slick rock challenges.  I cleaned a few things out there that I hadn’t previously and really was having fun pumping the terrain and working the bike, trying to learn some new skills and have fun charging after whoever was in front of me. The trail was a pretty good equalizer between skills and fitness and fun factor, so we all stayed pretty close together, and it was fun watching everyone clean tech lines and have a blast.

Love you guys!

We took a lot of photos and had a lot of fun.

Follow the white dots

Temps started to go down after we hit Windmill Trail, and everyone was running out of steam and stoke factor, so we called it a ride.

There really was a windmill

Got back to the cars and packed up to head over Brianhead Peak and down to basecamp at the cabin for the next 3 days.  Got in a bit late again after a grocery stop, but unpacked after dark and had an awesome dinner prepared by Stephanie with magical paleo powers and grilled by Justin.  Stellar evening, late night, and we slept in a little for Friday.

11.11.11

In 2007, at Bootleg Canyon in mid-November, Jeff had brought a Stone Brewing 11^th Anniversay black IPA (amongst a host of other good beers).  We laughed because my birthday is 11/11 and we were sort of celebrating it that trip – with Stone 11^th!  Jokingly we decided we’d save a Stone 11^th for 11.11.11 and go up to 11,000ft and drink it.  Why not, right?  Well, over the course of a few months we all enjoyed a few more 11^th’s, and Stone said not to save them to enjoy them fresh.

Jeff saved one bottle, original, just in case.  He kept it in his fridge.  Throughout the last few months we actually got serious about making a plan to really do eleveneleveneleven. Jeff, Steph and Dan agreed to the trip and on Wednesday – it all was coming to fruition.  There was only one small maybe hitch – Brianhead had gotten pounded with a snow storm the week before, so we had no idea how far we’d make it. Driving up to Brianhead Thursday night it was too dark to see the road to the peak, but it didn’t look passable with our 2WD truck.  We joked maybe we’d rent snowmobiles.

Friday we lazed around a bit, enjoying coffee, then trying to figure out how to ride in 35-40F temps. We all got on as many layers as we could find and I tried to figure out a way to fit my too-big expensive electric battery powered socks in my Pro MTB shoes.  Found a way, and off we headed to the trailhead for Thunder Mountain.

Just setting off up the bike path we were slushing through about an inch or 2 of snow here and there, but no big deal – it was easy to pedal through, not iced over, and actually quite a peaceful trip up Red Canyon bike path.

We got up to Fremont Trail and turned off to head to Thunder Mountain itself. The snow was deeper. As we climbed up it got more and more challenging to stay upright and not have to dab. I made it up to the singletrack, hoping to find some more dirt and less snow, but it wasn’t to be.

I guess in some ways I assumed the singletrack wouldn’t be much more challenging to climb or descend than the road and dirt had been below. We started out ok, but soon enough we were all off and on our bikes slip sliding around, careening into trees, tires sliding out.

Before long I was hike-a-biking much more than I was riding. I kept switching my battery from HI to LO and back again. Even an hour in I was the only person that could feel their feet, though we all were plenty warm otherwise.

The trail traversed and most of the westerly facing slopes (I think?) were entrenched in snow. I found riding more and more difficult and eventually, as we neared the cool overlook with the old outhouse I didn’t bother trying to get back on and ride after short hike sections; I just stayed off the bike, trying to keep moving, pulling up the rear of the pack in a bad way.

Justin I knew was having fun, riding more than walking, and probably thoroughly enjoying himself. I wasn’t quite sure how everyone else was making out, but they were doing better than me, so there was that. I felt bad for having everyone out in fairly adverse riding conditions. We soldiered on, though, not stopping at any of the “known” photo spots, just trying to keep moving to stay warm.

After awhile I was getting pretty down in the dumps about the whole experience. Jeff was nice enough to stick with me and I told him I wasn’t sure I was going to ride the trail again – this was kind of ruining it for me.  He said it was a pretty cool, but different experience, something we’d be laughing about later that evening over beers.

“Didn’t anyone tell you about the giant cake we got for you that’s just COVERED in white frosting? There’s a little mountain bike girl right on the top.”

I had to smile. “I love you, man. You’re awesome.”

“Friends are the people you call when you’re in jail. REAL friends are the people sitting there next to you laughing about it.”

Quote of the trip.  Well, that or “that doesn’t suck.” Jeff-isms.

There were a few rideable switchbacks here and there and despite even the last 1.5 miles of rip roaring fun singletrack being covered by a few inches of snow, I think we all enjoyed it. I still think that it’s a way better trail when you can enjoy the scenery and ride it all, but, hey. Here’s to new experiences.

Snow bikes

We got back to the cabin, demolished every bit of leftover food in sight, packed our jackets and set off toward the peak just before sunset. Not really to plan (no snowmobile rentals open at this hour!), but we got up there around 7 pm maybe, parked just off the highway at 10,400ft and called it “close enough” (horseshoes, hand grenades, and birthday celebrations in the snow).

Everyone came up with some secret birthday dessert that I wasn’t allowed to see or anything, so instead I chilled out, and soon enough it was time to grub on dinner.  Justin couldn’t wait to finish his food and get dessert going, but I at least wanted to wait until everyone had finished, so it took a few minutes.

So amazing.

I ate way too much, hit the hay “early” and finally got a little bit of sleep.

Saturday morning I got up fairly early because I knew we had a LOT to do and at the end of the day a long drive back home.  We got through breakfast, double French press coffee mugs, and then it was up and at’em to winterize the cabin, pack up the cars, and GTFO.

Steph and Dan headed out a few minutes before the Mann Show plus Jefe and set out southward toward Zion.

After finishing touches were put on winterizing the cabin we set out to find an early lunch. I was ready to start “No”vember (start saying “NO” to all the bad stuff that makes me slow and too heavy for racing!) so instead of Arby’s I ate leftovers and before I knew it we were speeding (not literally) down 15S toward Hurricane for our 3^rd and final ride of the weekend – Hurricane-Gould’s-JEM loop. I’d ridden it last summer before Nationals with Luke. While I didn’t remember a ton about the trail, I knew enough to mostly find our way, but not enough to not completely biff it HARD a few miles from the trailhead on a fairly benign section of singletrack. I was leading out when Justin called up to me to look further ahead and pay attention. All I remember is raising my gaze a little further down the trail, going to pump some terrain and being promptly BODY SLAMMED to the ground with no warning. From what we can tell I must’ve stuck my toe/right shoe into a rock outcropping on my right which dead halted my body at the same time I endo’d over the bars, somersaulted, and had the bike flip over me yet again where we both came to a crashing halt.

That’s gonna leave a mark. Maybe more violent, though nowhere near as immediately painful as my crash on San Juan 3 weeks ago. My toe hurt pretty bad, and my ribs were a little sore, but I bounced back up and after my front wheel and saddle were straightened out I got back in the lead and had some more fun.

We hit JEM and I had Justin lead it out, and it was everything Jeff and I could do to hang on as he pumped terrain, barely pedaling with us chasing behind. So.Much.Fun.

Stuff like that should be illegal.

I started to run out of steam, and soon enough we turned up Virgin River Rim trail and had some chunky climbing. Justin sliced his front tire, which sealed with Stans, but had leaked down a LOT. He wasn’t sure how it’d hold, but chanced it the final 6 or so miles of chunk trail up and down some steeps and switchbacks and still was riding really strong.

Great end to our 4 days and 3 rides for sure.

Such a stellar trip and I’m truly lucky to have such good friends in my life. It would not have been the same without them to share the journey. One to cherish for a long time!

Thanks for the memories!