Flying in, getting a rental behemoth, arranging a rental condo, and shipping a bike. Far more hassle than what had once been a six hour drive after throwing a load of crap into the car. A long delay at JFK due to logistical reasons, then an emergency landing in St. Louis added to the anxiousness to get groundside and begin riding.
Unfortunately that didn't happen until the day after our arrival, late in the day. After picking up the bike, assembling the bike, ensuring said bike wouldn't explode while pedaling - it was time to go.
A simple spin up Sand Flats Rd. to go tool around the Slickrock trail would have to suffice. I like this trail. I don't get bored of it. I can ride it every time I'm in town. So many different lines and ways to do things. Sure, it can be filled with helmetless, out of water, flat prone gumbies and families, but hey -we all started somewhere, right? After our happy fun time travel adventures getting to this point, this was welcomed heartily.
The looks on peoples faces when the round the corner (from either direction) to Shrimp Rock and find some dude lounging about and drinking a beer are entertaining.
The elevation change from sea level wasn't too noticeable at this point. Granted, working the pig bike up the hills had me going slowly enough already that I may just have not noticed the difference.
Some things are harder work than others, which makes them no less enjoyable, really.
The next two days, I hooked up with a couple friends to ride, while Mrs. Scrub ran off to go run. Good times, good times.
The desert is full of life, if you know where to look. Alvin!!!!!
Saturday was sorta' a late start. A slight shuttle timing mishap left us with a later start than we'd anticipated, and not leaving a car at the bottom of Porc Rim. Not a bad thing. The pedal into town isn't horrible, but not knowing how you'll feel at the end of that ride... Anyway, with a late start, and conflicting tales of how wet/dry Burro was or wasn't meant we just started at Hazard.
This...this time, the elevation difference was telling. The initial climb out of the Hazard drop point wasn't really painful, just slow and wheezy.
Fast and fun. Things were a bit dry and dusty - a few more corners bermed as this one would have been a nice treat.
Body bag. I had an idealistic goal of nailing this feature this trip out. I've only gotten tot he top of the little slab at the apex of the corner in attempts past. This trip? It didn't happen. Super dry and with a liberal coating of dust and sand atop the whole slot down made me competely wuss out. Oops. Did see
a few attempts though, and one dude made it looks super slick and easy.
Trust me folks, if you've not seen it in person, pictures do not do it any justice.
Sorry, no diving board shots. That section was packed with people. Had to wait a bit for things to clear out a bit, and we were wanting to get past some folks who were loitering around, looking for carnage and the gumption to hit the biggest four footer to flat in the world. It's really not that bad a spot, it just seemingly gets hammered with wind every time I'm there.
A few other Porc Rim standards:
A pause for some macro action:
More riding with friends, a half marathon for the spousal unit, a breather day in Palisade and Grand Junction to come!
Helmet in repose.
Tim rolling. STIL, and not a smooth roll by any stretch.
Joel after being gaffled doing the same roller.
Mans best friend.
Fisher Mesa rocks. Very UPS/LPS quality, though with gobs of loose rock on trail. I assume mainly since it sees far, far less traffic than many other trails. It just hasn't been tire buffed as yet. Great views.
The spousal unit ran
while I rode.
The only bike trouble of the trip, save for one flat - I broke my bell.
Vacation is nice.
Mas.
Cat hair never sleeps.
More Fisher Mesa bits.
Cisco, UT.
Yeah, it's as exciting to Mrs. Scrub as it appears.
Because one can never have too many Randall pictures.
A Flowy trail shot.
Body Bag the lesser.
Athalliah rolling in just above Body Bag.
A rider working the upper section of Body Bag.
A spiring.
Arches.
Artsy fartsy attempt since it was a decapitation shot.
The much better photographer than I in his natural habitat, awaiting prey.
Unfortunately that didn't happen until the day after our arrival, late in the day. After picking up the bike, assembling the bike, ensuring said bike wouldn't explode while pedaling - it was time to go.
A simple spin up Sand Flats Rd. to go tool around the Slickrock trail would have to suffice. I like this trail. I don't get bored of it. I can ride it every time I'm in town. So many different lines and ways to do things. Sure, it can be filled with helmetless, out of water, flat prone gumbies and families, but hey -we all started somewhere, right? After our happy fun time travel adventures getting to this point, this was welcomed heartily.
The looks on peoples faces when the round the corner (from either direction) to Shrimp Rock and find some dude lounging about and drinking a beer are entertaining.
The elevation change from sea level wasn't too noticeable at this point. Granted, working the pig bike up the hills had me going slowly enough already that I may just have not noticed the difference.
Some things are harder work than others, which makes them no less enjoyable, really.
The next two days, I hooked up with a couple friends to ride, while Mrs. Scrub ran off to go run. Good times, good times.
The desert is full of life, if you know where to look. Alvin!!!!!
Saturday was sorta' a late start. A slight shuttle timing mishap left us with a later start than we'd anticipated, and not leaving a car at the bottom of Porc Rim. Not a bad thing. The pedal into town isn't horrible, but not knowing how you'll feel at the end of that ride... Anyway, with a late start, and conflicting tales of how wet/dry Burro was or wasn't meant we just started at Hazard.
This...this time, the elevation difference was telling. The initial climb out of the Hazard drop point wasn't really painful, just slow and wheezy.
Fast and fun. Things were a bit dry and dusty - a few more corners bermed as this one would have been a nice treat.
Body bag. I had an idealistic goal of nailing this feature this trip out. I've only gotten tot he top of the little slab at the apex of the corner in attempts past. This trip? It didn't happen. Super dry and with a liberal coating of dust and sand atop the whole slot down made me competely wuss out. Oops. Did see
a few attempts though, and one dude made it looks super slick and easy.
Trust me folks, if you've not seen it in person, pictures do not do it any justice.
Sorry, no diving board shots. That section was packed with people. Had to wait a bit for things to clear out a bit, and we were wanting to get past some folks who were loitering around, looking for carnage and the gumption to hit the biggest four footer to flat in the world. It's really not that bad a spot, it just seemingly gets hammered with wind every time I'm there.
A few other Porc Rim standards:
A pause for some macro action:
More riding with friends, a half marathon for the spousal unit, a breather day in Palisade and Grand Junction to come!
Helmet in repose.
Tim rolling. STIL, and not a smooth roll by any stretch.
Joel after being gaffled doing the same roller.
Mans best friend.
Fisher Mesa rocks. Very UPS/LPS quality, though with gobs of loose rock on trail. I assume mainly since it sees far, far less traffic than many other trails. It just hasn't been tire buffed as yet. Great views.
The spousal unit ran
while I rode.
The only bike trouble of the trip, save for one flat - I broke my bell.
Vacation is nice.
Mas.
Cat hair never sleeps.
More Fisher Mesa bits.
Cisco, UT.
Yeah, it's as exciting to Mrs. Scrub as it appears.
Because one can never have too many Randall pictures.
A Flowy trail shot.
Body Bag the lesser.
Athalliah rolling in just above Body Bag.
A rider working the upper section of Body Bag.
A spiring.
Arches.
Artsy fartsy attempt since it was a decapitation shot.
The much better photographer than I in his natural habitat, awaiting prey.
