The onset of fall is a time when I become antsy. It’s a time when my summer obsession with biking begins to battle my mind and heart’s attention and tries to hold on while my winter passion for skiing rapidly takes over. The only cure I have found for this seasonal and obsessive shift… hit the road!
There is something about being on the road that some how makes these two opposing sports at peace. Maybe it is because they both feel attended to while I ‘m behind the wheel. That, at any turn, I may hit a snowy peak or a slick rock trail and pull my bike or my skis out of my truck and begin to play. On the road anything can happen, all adventures are fair game, and my skis and my bike live harmoniously.
The past few weeks I have traveled to Moab, back to Park City, then to Golden and Boulder, CO., Then back through Park City, and then to LA.
You might have picked up on the fact that this wasn’t the most direct or logical itinerary, but then again, when you are hitting the road for the sake of adventure there is no need for rationality.
Overlooking Moab's slick rock fins to the La Sals
At any rate, My first adventure was impromptu. I was looking for something to do, I was in PC, essentially unemployed, and bored. When I expressed my antsy feelings to my good friend and rad photographer Re Wikstrom she invited me to tag along with her to Moab for her friend, Liz’s birthday weekend. Thrilled to have an excuse and a crew to travel, I jumped on the opportunity.
Bikes, Bikes, Bikes
We hit the road in Liz’s Element, which was loaded beyond with all of our bikes and camping gear and headed off to meet up with the rest of the crew who had already set up camp. We got there and instantly threw tents into place, switched out clothes, and hit the practice loop for a couple quick laps before we lost the sun to the horizon.
Shuttle
The view from Porcupine
The next morning we grabbed the 8:30am shuttle up to Hazard County and began our 20 something mile decent hitting all the infamous Moab trails. UPS, LPS, and Porcupine to name a few. It was my virgin Porcupine experience, and lucky for me Connie Misket, a long time DH pro, ever so kindly slowed her roll so that I could follow her line. Thank you Connie for spoon feeding me the best 4hrs. of my life!
The gang before the final decent
The following day we packed up camp headed over to Amasaback and started the hot (probably too late 10:45am) climb. It was a particularly painful experience for me, as I decided the night before, that when sitting around a campfire it is essential to pass around a bottle of Whiskey, unfortunately for me I was one of the two that had partaken in my declared ritual. Thus, the hour climb up the exposed slick rock left me feeling quite beaten, however no longer hungover.
The view from the top
The decent was fun; However, I got served a serious piece of humble pie while trying to hit this double drop. Note to self: when you tell your friend that you are suffering from line choice A.D.D. and you keep finding yourself in “no mans land” that is not the time to try an exceptionally technical line.
Live and learn.
Fortunately, we made it back in one piece (maybe a bit more colorful with bruises and blood, but in one piece none the less.)
I was back in PC for a few days, doing laundry, packing up my truck, and getting some life organized before I was off to Golden, CO for the premier of the Freeheel Life 2: Hippies Punx & Misfits.
The trip started early, as I was intent on getting a quick bike ride in before hitting up the premier and the Bent Gate’s Winter Welcome party at 6pm. I pulled into Golden around 3pm and thumbed threw my Mountain Biking Colorado Guide and found a great ride in the White Ranch Open Space.
I only scratched the surface of the what the trail system had to offer, but after sitting in my truck for 8hrs and downing copious amounts of Red Bull and caffeine, my cardiovascular conditioning was less than ideal. None the less the ride was great and allowed me to get a good stretch and sweat in before the nights festivities began.
I rolled into the Winter Welcome party around 5:30pm. Immediately, I transitioned into my skier self. There was Andy from BCA , Chris from Scarpa, Jax from Hestra, and Josh Madsen from Telemark Skier Magazine among many other reps from all the major players in the backcountry ski world.
The energy was a buzz and so were most of the people in attendance. Within the first hour the ski expo and the film were sold out, leaving a few late comers vying for entry. Alas, the place was packed, reps. were swarmed and the anticipation for the film was growing. After an hour of drooling of the newest gear and an epic raffle of skis, packs, and bindings it was time for the film.
Packed house!
Gimme tha Schwag!!
The film was well received and left us feeling the need to continue the party. After a late night and a delicious breakfast it was off to Boulder.
Josh, Charlotte, and I went off to one of my favorite places, Chautauqua open space. We hiked to the top of the third Flatiron where the beautiful scenery and fall colors put on an incredible display.
After the beautiful hike, Josh and Charlotte went on there way and I headed over to one of my best friend’s house for the rest of the weekend.
As to be expected, when reuniting with a long time friend, we partied hard and celebrated our reunion in style.
By the time Monday morning rolled around the lack of clean clothes, the endless social endeavors, and the general feeling of exhaustion made Park City my next destination.
Home felt good, but not good enough to keep my anxious soul from hitting the road once more. With my dog and a swim suit in tow, I headed out once more to the Pacific coast. It took 12 hours, but I made it to LA to meet up with my family. This was the therapeutic terminus of a few weeks of partying hard and playing even harder.
Merl loving the Pacific
Three days of California bliss rejuvenated my soul. The weather was perfect, my dog had his first ocean experience, and I experienced my first acupuncture needle and Qi Gong class. That coupled with the warmth that only a family can bring sent me back home soaring.
Now, back in Park City, I am at peace. My biker self has found resolve in the fact that the snow is coming and it is time to let the skier emerge.
With the colder weather and the growing anticipation for the upcoming season I have been brought back into my archives of seasons past.
Check out some of the videos.
Let them get you stoked on riding the endless white wave that winter brings!!
A couple weeks ago I went down to Brian Head to do a few days of shuttle laps with the Huck n’ roll team of photographers. The trip was incredible! We had an all time caste including Jenn Berg, Re Wikstrom, Tommy Chandler, Grant Gunderson. We arrived around 2pm and quickly set up camp just out side of the Cedar Breaks National Monument. Within the hour we were all loaded with our bikes into our two vehicles ready to set up the first shuttle of the trip, to hit Dark Hollow.
We hit the trail and immediately I knew this was going to be an epic few days!! The trail was flowy and fast with some techy parts mixed in as well. After shooting tons of photographs and hiking bikes back up sections multiple times, before we knew it we had been out there for about 4 and a half hours just on the one trail and our hopes of squeezing a second lap in was a bit ambitious so we did what any good freeride team does, we started drinking beers as we headed back up to camp to make a fire and prep for a tasty dinner of shrimp fajitas. Yummy!!!
That night we kicked it around the campfire discussing the game plan for the next day. We would hit Bunker Creek and then hit up BlowHard. With great anticipation I crawled into my tent. Around 6:30am my eyes popped open as the realization of where I was cut through my dreamy mind. I jumped out of my tent and was welcomed into the day by watching the peach sky gently waking up The Cedar Break formation as well as the rays of the sun silhouetting the Peak at Brian Head. It was an invigorating way to start the day.
As the rest of the crew rolled out of their tents the scent of backcountry coffee and breakfast simmered out of camp. With full tummies and amped bodies we hit Bunker Creek. It was a fun trail with a few pedally sections, but we got some great shots. As we reached the shuttle truck the clouds started moving in and with further discussion we decided that Blow hard was a ride best left for tomorrow and that Pizzono’s, the local pizzeria, was our most intended destination. We ate more pizza then our exhausted bodies could or should probably be tolerant and then it was off to bed.
The next morning we woke, had some oatmeal, and then it was off to Blowhard. It’s a magnificent trail with the first few miles riding along the Breaks. Stunning views and a few exposed areas to really let you know you were riding in southern Utah. Again, hiking back up and taking multiple shots made for an extra long decent and by the tme we reached the shuttle Jen and Tommy had to start their journey back to Sal Lake City. Re, Grant and myself were more opened and decided to hit Dark Hollow again, without cameras. Despite an interesting flat tire, we made it down in relatively good time.
My goal for hitting Dark Hollow again was to hit this area of red rock spires and shale that I had scoped on our first day. I had decided on the trip that i wanted to start getting into Big Mountain Freeriding and this spot looked like the perfect way to kick it off. It was a little under 500ft. of vertical. So I rode ahead and started the long hike-a bike ascent. If you have never hiked a big DH bike up a lose scree field, I strongly suggest it. Nothing is more character building then trying to keep your footing while maneuvering a 45+ pound bike up a sharp rocky field. At any rate it took about an hour and a half and a few sketch falls to make it to the top. As I put on my knee-shin guards, my elbow pads and my full face my heart rate began to spike. “What was I doing up on this scree field?” With no trails and just a crazy lose descent in front of me. “What was I thinking?” Then I began to look at it through my skier eyes, suddenly it did not look so steep and my line became clear. I yelled down to Re, who was shooting from the bottom “Dropping” Next thing I knew I was surfing the shale, feeling confident, while at the same time realizing that my previous concern of cutting myself up on the shale if I skidded out was the least of my worries. Now my focus turned to the fact that I was mocking down this slope and if anything went wrong I would be tomahawking at skier speed down a rock field. Yeah… a spine and neck guard will be my next Huck ‘n Roll purchase! At any rate, miraculously, I made it down. With more adrenaline then I have ever felt before in my life, I threw down my bike and started jumping around in complete elated disbelief. I did it! My first Freeride line. Success!!!
With that accomplishment under my belt we cruised down to the truck, had celebratory beers and made the journey home.
I can not thank the crew at Huck n’ roll enough for inviting me on this adventure!!
