Share the Trails

 

After several cool, late spring days in the dessert riding on our own private White Rim Trail on the Lower Flint Trail in the Glen Canyon Recreation, we had exhausted the deliberate micro hikes in the slot canyons around our camp and decided we decided to head north to and higher for some cooler climes.  At the top of Indian Canyon between Price and Duchesne we found a nice cool and quiet campground on Reservation Ridge at 9400 feet that we never knew existed.  We congratulated ourselves for knowing how to read real maps and for finding the secret camping destinations in Utah that would take our entire lives to explore. 

After dinner I took a reconnaissance loop around the campground and, on the advice of some French Moto riders, I found an old ATV logging road.  It was technical and rocky, thin and steep but I put my e-bike in Turbo mode and was able to power up the 45-degree slopes without flipping over backwards, mainly because of 40 years of riding experience.  I decided it was ridable and that I would explore it the next morning when heart was fresh and my eyes were clear.   

My eyes are bad from falling on my head too much and do not process well dynamically, which causes me to fall on my head more, so it as a compounding effect, like compound interest of my brain.  My eyes can’t focus quickly so I have learned to look further up the trail.   My pulse had dropped to 30 beats per minute (bpm) a few years ago and my four chambers were uncoordinated.  So, they gave me a pace-maker that topped out at an orchestrated 120 bpm.  That didn’t allow me to ride very much but over the years I have convinced them to pick it up to 150 bpm.  I’ll buy the damn batteries.   The only downside is that if I exceed 150 bpm I can black out for a half minute or so, which is inconvenient, at least.  Without my Class-1 e-bike I would not be able to ride at all, and that is unacceptable. Mountain biking is apparently very dangerous, but I need to get out.

The next day after breakfast, I took off on the trail that was very steep, challenging and technical.  It wound through some great north facing forests and south facing clear cuts and I had to blaze some deadfall now and then to open the trail. It trended generally to the Northeast, and I figured it would contour around eventually to the campground entry road.  As I got further out, I realized that I was burning up battery power quickly on the unreal steep climbs and pushing my pulse rate.  I slowed my roll to save power and keep my pulse reasonable.  I soon realized that I had burned more than half my battery and therefore was unable to turn around and go back the way I came.  I became nervous and it became an official adventure at that point.  No one would find me out here. 

When worried I usually consider the worst-case scenario and then admit that, like a million times before, I would figure it out.  Comforted by that realization, I powered on.  I took some wrong turns and got lost a few more times but tended in the right direction and right before I ran out of juice, I found the road that led back to camp.  Tragedy narrowly averted, I pulled into camp where my wife and dog were, glad to see me, and I them. 

The point is, I would not be riding a bike without help and I would not have ridden this trail without a fair bike and some good skill for the great experience that makes me feel alive and nineteen again.  Some of my young or healthy friends will ride with me, as long as I ride in the back and do all the talking, so they don’t have to try to keep up.  Others are less inclusive and can’t stomach a ‘cheater’ that might challenge the exclusive right to trials to only those who are healthy, wealthy and wiled.  I just relish the opportunity to get out-and-about, see some nature, have an adventure and get some moderate exercise that won’t drain my battery or break my heart.  Ride on my friends, share the trails.  Ride a mile on my bike.