After last summer in the furnace of Phoenix, I made a promise I would never put myself through another hell of a summer again. So this year, I decided to try and have a hellluvuh summer instead.
It started Tuesday. I left the 602 with the car packed. Tent, sleeping bag, clothes, bikes, and camera loaded, headed north to visit my Grandma in Prescott, AZ. I got in town just in time for a ride in the forest.
After spending some quality time with Grandma, I hit the road early and headed north. I decided to drive through north through Flagstaff into Utah rather than east through the dreaded state of New Mexico. 6 hours into the drive I approached Moab. I new that there was some sweet mountain bike riding to be done here. I was planning to truck along through on into CO because I had plans to stay in Denver that night, and 6 more hours of road lied ahead of me. But, decided to stop at a nifty lookin' bike shop to do some investigating.
Turns out slickrock bike trail is a mile up the road, so I took a detour. I'm glad I did, because it was some sweet riding in some pretty unique terrain.
The wind didn't make this ride easy. I legitimately feared being blown off of a cliff.
So, it was back on the road after a couple hours on the rocks. I pulled into Boulder late Wednesday night, just in time for a couple drinks at The Sink.
I'm pretty happy with how my trip has begun.
BA-out
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