Moab Day 3: Sovereign

  

After a day of swooping around on Mars, I was curious to see what else the guides would throw our way.   Turns  out we were to visit Venus on the third day of our journey through the myriad worlds of Moab.
  


Like slick rock,  the Sovereign trail is but a few miles from town,  but that’s where the similarities end.   The trail winds up, down, and across a huge mesa.   Unlike its red-faced sandstone cousins,  this gargantuan land peninsula is tinted with an oxidized green, like a giant molten blob of patina'd bronze.   I didn't know what to make of the green soil- I had never seen anything like it.   This oddly colored rock is just another example of how varied and diverse the life and land of this place is.   Every ride is a geology lesson and a ultra-high def episode of a discovery channel documentary all rolled into one.  Then again,  falling on a Juniper tree after wiping out on some crazy rocks is as close-up as you can get.




Our guide today was a hard man known as Steve.  Steve had ridden these trails for quite a while,  and while he was slow to warm up, could rip through downhill singletrack with far more finesse than I could.  As we drove to the trailhead he told us about life around Moab and how he came to call it home;   not many people here were born and raised in Moab-   each person we’ve met here has their own story-  with Moab being the current stop of their journeys.  I guess we all have that in common at the moment.

I’ll be honest:   riding up that mesa was a bit of a chore.   Three days into our trip, we were still getting acclimated to the altitude and terrain.   The sovereign trail was a world apart from slick rock:  generally tight singletrack littered with loose rocks and technical uphill sections.   It definitely left its mark on yours truly…


   
After toiling uphill across loose rocks left by dirt bikes (the lazy' man’s mountain bike…),   we would be rewarded by tight, steep singletrack that switched back across the mesa.  The surface was much looser than slick rock, and I may have been guilty of riding the breaks down it, as I was really not in the mood to fly off the side of a cliff.  



After an hour and a half of ups and downs we reached the top of the mesa:  a cliff face with the gorgeous La Sal mountains in the background.   The are the ultimate compliment to the varied Moab Terrain.  You’re in the middle of an arid desert canyon land, and off in the distance are snowcapped mountains,  gracefully kissing a sky so blue that it would give Bob Ross a wet dream.
 


As we made our way down the Mesa, Steve corralled us through a dried up, rocky half-pipe of a riverbed (I believe if was called Terry’s Tunnel).  This riverbed was full of ledges and rocky outcrops that you had to traverse.  The techie bits were fun to try and figure out: correct gearing, a good line, and some fast twitch muscle fibers got you over the rocks and ledges,  but any misstep and you had the chance of a one night stand with the ground…



As we stepped off of the green mesa we were met with sandy red singletrack and a few flat wash sections.  For the record,  deep, loose sand is a royal pain on a mountain bike-  I reassured myself that riding in sand would come in handy at the next cx race.
 


One of the last sections we traversed was a giant, wide open stretch of sandstone.  i was told it used to be a seabed, and it’s pretty apparent.  it stretched far out-  a vast, dehydrated sea bed,  littered with junipers and small desert flora.



we finished up our ride on some non-technical jeep roads, riding back to the van and cooling down.  We had another great day of unforgettable riding under our belts.  As I sat there devouring a sandwich in the shade, the La Sal Mountains sat on the horizon.  This trip was the mountain bike equivalent of a seven-course tasting menu at Le Bernardin-  I had no idea what the next course would be- couldn’t wait to find out.

Moab: Day 2- Martian Roller Coaster

Before I left for my trip, my friend David had recommended that I read “Desert Solitaire” by Edward Abbey.  I’m about halfway through it and can strongly suggest it to my literate friends.  Edward Abbey was one of the founding fathers of environmentalism.  In the book, he recounts his time spent as a Park Ranger in Arches National Park in Moab.  He spent 3 seasons there taking in the varied and natural beauty of this ridiculous place.
  

  
Event though its right in the Desert,  I’ve seen what Abbey is talking about.  The terrain and life is rugged and dramatic.  It’s a stark contrast from the manufactured, manicured, and frenzied beauty of NYC.

On day 1 we were met with beautiful desert singletrack and some stunning geological formations.  Today was completely different.  Even though we were maybe 10 miles away from where we rode yesterday, we might as well have been on a different planet.
  


More specifically, Mars.
Today we rode the slickrock trail,   which is known for its, well, slickrock.   I was pumped as hell to give it a try.  The slickrock landscape looks like something the Mars rover must have set eyes upon while on its death march.   Swooping, rolling dunes of solid rock litter the landscape.  The only giveaway that you’re on earth is the beautiful desert life that’s peppered across the land.  



Our guide today was Heidi.   Heidi’s an avid athlete who’s keeps busy by kickin’ ass at trail running when she’s not taking fat, spoiled New York cyclists out for pity rides.   Needless to say, Heidi put us through our paces for the next 4 hours of Mars rovin’.




So how does it ride??   Like a Martian rollercoaster.


 

Riding slickrock is quite a departure from the singletrack that you’re probably used to.   The biggest difference is grip.  It’s Grippy.  Super grippy.  Grippier than my hands are around a Bacon cheeseburger.   While the name “slickrock” may  seem to imply differently,  it earned its name because it is quite slippery when we’re talking about horses and cows.  Horseshoes and slickrock= bovines sliding around like your mother in a Jell-O wrestling match.




So what does that mean?  It means you can ride slick rock at ridiculous angles- up, down, sideways, off-camber, and probably upside-down.  You can ride straight across a 50-degree off-camber that would make a cx-racer weep.  




The Best part of slickrock is the swoopy stuff.  You come to the crest of a slope,   fly down 50 feet and slam right up the incline of the next.    You’ve gotta have the granny gear on hand to get up these inclines.   each of those climbs is a 20-30 second V02MAX effort that forces you to sit so far forward that  you’re practically straddling the steerer tube like a stripper pole and spinning your legs around in your 32X22 (the 32 is in the rear, roadies).  I may have earned a new nickname due to my overzealous spinning while going up these things…
 


Each of these aggressive efforts is like a little interval that you end up repeating about 30-50 times.   We have essentially signed up for a week a daily 4-hour long anaerobic interval workouts.  Coach roger would be so proud…



Understandably,  some of those rises were too steep for us and we ended up dumping out a few times and walking.  This leads me to a very important tip for all of you northeasterners coming to ride slick rock up here:  TAKE OUT YOUR TOE SPIKES BEFORE YOU EVEN THINK OF RIDING SLICKROCK.  Sure,  toe spikes are great when you’re knee-deep in mud at Granogue or tap-dancing on a street corner, but on a steep slickrock incline they are about as useful as a Bacon AT-AT in a synagogue.


 

Around the midpoint of the ride we came across a bit of a playground-  it was akin to the empty pools skateboarders do tricks in,  but naturally formed.  it was a blast to swoop in and out and take some banked turns.   Naturally this was the perfect time for a far superior rider named Kyle to show up and demonstrate how terrible we actually are…




The whole slickrock trail is situated high above Moab.  Depending on where you were you could overlook the whole town  or the mighty Colorado River.   What better place to sit down and enjoy the view then on the edge of a sheer 1000 ft cliff face.





I can say without hesitation that romping around on this Martian terrain was one of the best bike experiences I’ve had in my life.  Who knows what planet we’ll end up on tomorrow?

New Orleans: Beer, Liquor, Food, and (consequently) Recovery Rides

I flew down to New Orleans this weekend to recharge my batteries and Visit my Alma Madre. The folks at Tulane U. decided it would be a good idea to fly me down and interview me for their admissions video, and who am I to argue with people shoving free airfare in my face??

Given the relationship and history New Orleans and I had back in college, I was pretty worried that I was going to single-handedly undo all of the hard work I've done up to this point in the training season and end up in the french quarter with no pants on (again). I'd lost 5 lbs this month, and was getting into a good groove with the 6 day-a-week workout schedule. What better way to disrupt all that hard work with copious amounts of heavy,delicious food and car-wreck inducing alcoholic beverages??


Luckily for me, the weather was fantastic. Even luckier for me: an old riding buddy had an extra bike for me to use. Hoo-Ha! All is not lost.

Not only did I get to hit up all of my old and favorite alcoholic and culinary stomping grounds, but I also got to hit up my old cycling territory: The Mississippi River Trail (or MRT for all you acronymaholics).


The MRT is a glorious stretch of bike path that lies on the tippy-top of the Mississippi river levee. It goes out for at least 25 miles. Best part? No cars allowed, and its flat. Worst part? It's flat. And Windy.

It's a pace-liner's dream.

When not in a pace line, it makes for an interesting ride.


Usually what happens is you end up flying on the way out. Gee, You feel so good and strong, zooming along in your big ring without a care in the world. you could go on like this forever!

Then you turn around, and are slapped in the face by the invisible hand that was gently pushing you along the whole time. Thanks! You end up grinding out those same miles on the way back. Whoopie.

Aside from that, the Levee path has a fond place in my heart. I developed into a road rider on that path- starting out as a huge Fred on his Gary fisher with knobby tires, a camelbak, baggy shorts and platform pedals and eventually turning into a spandex- wearing, clipless pedalling, skinny tire rollin' fool that I am today. I've got this path to thank for that.

The sights on the levee are pretty unique. you pass a golf course, huge bridges, ghetto projects, grand plantation mansions, Oil Refineries, and Barge Loading facilities. You can imagine the looks I used to get when I would walk into the Blue-collar convenience store for a Gatorade all decked out in spandex.


I met up with my old cycling cohort Mikey and our friend Scott, who just started cycling, and off we went for a friendly little jaunt along the Mississippi. We took it slow, caught up, had a few laughs, and snapped a few photos. It was good to see those two, and i enjoyed drooling over Mikey's new BMC Street Machine (Mikey, email me pics and a description of that hot piece of gear if you want it features on here as bike porn).


I got to use his old steel LeMond from the 90's. It was pretty entertaining to ride it, considering the frame was 3 cm too big for me, and the crank arms were 175mm (as opposed to 170's that I run on mine). I felt like I was pedaling a penny-farthing or something... It did, however, have the old Shimano RSX 7-speed components, and I was really impressed at how well they shifted.

I took it out again the next day to clear up my hang over, and got a good 45 mile Endurance ride in. Just what I needed.

Going for a ride those two times was a good bit of damage control for the delicious crap I was going to eat and drink. Namely, This:


You can order a triple-bypass on the side, if needed.

Now I'm back home, relishing the fun I had, and the fact that my silly cycling tan lines are back. I look like a redneck farmer with raccoon eyes, and boy does it feel good.

Back to training!