I have struggled to put my thoughts to this space lately. I reach into the depths of my brain and there is nothing but empty blackness. I rummage around and find nothing but nothing. It reminds me of essay questions during school. I'd sit and stare blankly at the page. A question about the civil war and its economic effects, or the motivation behind some epic novel would stare back, unblinking, mocking. And the clock would tick.

I would drift away from the paper and think about lunch, or some upcoming sports event, or that girl that sat in the next aisle over from me in science class, and whether or not I'd ever get the gumption to ask her out.

And then I realized, that my entire life is like those essay questions. I find myself daydreaming about all sorts of unrelated, somewhat irrelevant, things. Like right now, at this very moment. I was working on something, and it sparked an idea which eventually led me here to the blog, writing about my inability to focus on any one thing.

And yet, I am a terrible multi-tasker.

Which is why I love singletrack so much. What could be better for a highly distract-able daydreamer than a narrow path trough epic forests and deserts? I move forward, while gaping at the world around me.

Until, that is, I gape my way off the trail and into a ravine.

Labels: gaping, singletrack

Catherine Pass, as seen from The Crest

The Wasatch Crest Trail is iconic, classic Utah singletrack. It offers views a million miles in every direction, views that continually remind you just how small you are in the world of the Rocky Mountains. The flow and the mojo come easily.

The Crest will be a well earned reward for riders of the Wasatch Classic. It will take a monumental effort to gain the trail head, ascending up and over Catherine Pass and climbing the infamous Puke Hill before the mountain finally relents and gives way to the miles of grin inducing alpine singletrack.



As you contour along the spine of the Wasatch you will be able to look back at some of the rugged peaks and ridges you have left tread on throughout the epic day. But don't get too excited, because below you the Mid-Mountain trail lies in wait. A traversing, fantastic tour of the Park City resorts. Like a siren she beckons weary souls into her clutches with promises of flowing, snaking singetrack. But beware; she has a ravenous appetite for tired legs and worn minds.



The high country is cleansing and peaceful. The air is fragrant and sweet. Around every bend and over every ridge there is an expectation for a bear, a mountain lion, a moose. You might see one. Or all three. Or none at all. But rest assured, they see you. To coast through the pines, and into the aspens is something few people in the world ever experience. But you are a mountain biker and you pass from trees to trees with speed and grace. From ridge to ridge and canyon to canyon. Mountain to mountain.

Ride The Crest. Ride the Classic. Be a mountain biker.

Justin from Princeton Tec shreds The Crest

Labels: singletrack, the Crest, wasatch classic

Timpanogos from the summit of Mud Springs

After several sleepless nights, and busy days filled with children and errands, and trips to the store to pick up things we never knew we'd need, I found myself completely worn out. Like a sluggish Jaba the Hutt wannabe I have been couch surfing and napping with impunity.

I was however, able to get out for a much needed ride yesterday. A fantastic loop up on the Ridge Trail 157. Pine Hollow, Mud Springs, Tibble, and 252 are the perfect remedy to sluggism and the severe cabin fever that was starting to pull me into a dark and despairing tailspin.

But the therapeutic spin shed all the sedentary poison that was creeping into my veins, leaving me feeling refreshed and renewed. A new man.

There was a hint of fall in the mountain air today. Though the flowers and the leaves and the temperatures all begged to differ, the fragrance was undeniable. That woodsy, sweet, crisp smell of an approaching Autumn. I soaked up the olfactory candy and enjoyed some coveted quiet time among the pines and aspens.

Nothing cures urbanitis like alpine singletrack.

The twins are doing well. We are all adjusting and learning, and slowly regressing back to that normal life we all vaguely remember existing way back on July 21st. Except now, 'normal' is just a little bit different. At least for now. Eventually the new normal will just be normal. And that will be a development we can all get excited about.

Sleeping twins...

The contest to win a Princeton Tec Swerve ends soon. I will choose a winner on Monday. Just leave a comment to enter the drawing!

Labels: singletrack, The Ridge 157, twins

Trail 031 is a less-traveled piece of singletrack high above Dry Fork in American Fork Canyon. It connects with the Ridge Trail 157 at Pole Line Pass. My trail map describes it as some of the Wasatch's "sweetest bits of singeltrack". I had never explored it. Although for many summers I had intentions to do so. Even though much of it is still under heavy snowpack right now, it was crystal clear that the trail is indeed sweet. It winds along through an aspen forest that is picture perfect. The trees are wide, and spread far apart. The ground is clear of debris and excess growth. Visibility through the forest extends on and on, creating a strange optical illusion. As I stood and gazed through the endless trunks I hoped to see the moose that was leaving the tracks ahead of us on the trail materialize, gliding along...

And now, I wait. I wait for the snow to melt just so I can ride 031 again. So that euphoria can course through my body, bursting out in a loud "whoop!" as I wind through the snaking trail, freedom on two wheels.

Labels: singletrack, Utah, Wasatch

There is a unique pain to a short race. Muscles scream, eyes blur, lungs burn. It is over as soon as it starts, and yet it feels as if will never end. And then there is the speed. Ducking and leaning through corners, standing and hammering out of the saddle. Never stopping even for a moment to look around. If you did you'd end up wrapped around a tree.

As much as I crave endurance rides and long for that epic battle against sanity, a short race can be a cleansing act.  It blows all the junk out of your system, clears the mind and burns off the stresses of the day. Today's 1 hour scorcher at Sundance was as therapeutic as it was painful. It felt incredible to be pushing hard, once again at one of the great places I have ever known. Sundance is small, but it is home for me on many levels. The singletrack was pristine, the weather finally, finally resembled something reminiscent of June and the competition was fast and furious.

Labels: races, singletrack, sundance

An old tree stood at the trail junction of The Ridge, Tibblefork, and the South Fork of Deer Creek. I shot this photo last October.



And then I found this photo from UMB user "heifferson", taken on June 2nd.



That is a shame. I liked that tree. And I liked that sign as well.

Labels: singletrack, The Ridge 157

I find myself looking out of windows up at the vast labyrinth of canyons, ravines, peaks and forests that tower over Utah Valley. And I wonder, restlessly, when I will find myself among the trees, or more specifically, above them. The lower elevations are free of snow, and are full of excellent trails.

But I feel the lure of the high country.

I feel in many ways that I am being robbed of a summer. Events out of my control are dictating my life these days, and frankly, that doesn't always leave me in the best of moods. Life is good. But there are days when I toss my hands up in exasperation as I utter something ridiculous and self-deprecating under my breath. Actually believing for a minute or two that my life is difficult.

And yet, I still look to the timberline with a melancholy homesickness.

The snow is melting, ever so slowly. And in my impatience, at the first opportunity I have, I will no doubt burst onto trails not yet ready to be ridden. I will post-hole through the snowy drifts, cursing them while I stumble. I will slip in the mud, and splash through frigid run off. Finishing the day with a muddy smile and sore legs.

The Wasatch Classic is in danger of being shortened, due to a thick white blanket still draped over the Crest. A string of hot sunny days could cure the problem. But so far this year, no such string has occurred. Like winter did, spring is lingering. But the extra rain and snow that continue to cancel races, and fill reservoirs is a two-edged sword. After all, the Wasatch Front is where mountain and desert meet. And water is always at a premium.

So while, my head whispers patience, my heart screams intolerance. My eyes watch carefully the receding snow line. And again I find myself wondering... when.

Labels: singletrack, Wasatch

Slowly the high country is melting.  The snow is dripping away filing streams and rivers and lakes.  The air is warmer, brighter.  The mountains greener, friendlier. Summer is at long last breaking the shackles of an over stayed winter.  The Rockies are waking up.

Labels: photos, singletrack, Wasatch

Trails are opening up.  Some because of snow melt, others because they are evolving from faint deer paths to legitimate singletrack.  And so the options are increasing, multiplying.  From singletrack to singletrack, ridge to ridge and canyon to canyon, the world is being linked together. Ripe for the exploring. 

Labels: photos, ride, singletrack

Much like Saturday, today I enjoyed the early season flow of the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. Legs are coming around, lungs feel good, I am riding well. I feel like a mountain biker again...

This is the final drop on the "roller coaster trail"
Mount Timpanogos, always photogenic

Labels: BST, singletrack, Timpanogos

Nothing puts the world back together like a good piece of singletrack...

Labels: BST, singletrack