Tag Archives: mountain biking

Fat Chuck’s Revenge

Today was my first-ever mountain bike race.  I even bought a (one-day) racing license.  Ned Barnett made me do it; it gave him one more opportunity to demonstrate his biking superiority over me.  The race was called “Fat Chuck’s Revenge” — named after the toughest section of the course, which is an area called “Fat Chuck’s.”  But the rains this week made that section too muddy to ride.  Kudos to the rain gods for actually making the course a little easier.

Mountain bike racing lesson from today:  Slow but steady….means you’ll finish way near the back.

 

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Hidden Canyon – Moab Mountain Biking

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I came to Moab primarily for a photo workshop (more to come on that), but of course I brought my mountain bike.  It’s Moab, after all (mountain bike mecca).  These are just pocket camera pictures — but sometimes equipment quality is less important than LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION.  This is a place called “Hidden Canyon.”  It’s about a one hour mountain bike ride (over tons of slickrock!) off the road, not too far from the Canyonlands airport.  Maybe someday I’ll get a ‘real’ camera up there.

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(Actually, one of these pics — with more trees — is from a trail near downtown Moab).  And: (1) Yes, that’s my bike; (2) Yes, I took that picture of myself; (3) Yes, Mother, I know I probably shouldn’t be an hour’s ride into the wilderness by myself.

Colorado Multisport Week

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Ned’s spending a couple of weeks in Colorado — mostly riding bikes and training for the Leadville race in August.  I joined him for about five days.  Day 1 we hiked Bear Mountain near Boulder (and saw a mother bear with 2 cubs at a distance of about 40-50 yards).  Seeing a mother bear up that close sure is thought-provoking; it made me think:  “I wonder if I can outrun Ned in an all-out short sprint?”  Day 2 we rafted the Arkansas River near Royal Gorge.  The rest of the days we mostly scouted and mountain-biked part of the course of the Leadville 100, and even did a kayak tour of Lake Dillon on the way back to the airport.

Royal Gorge is a suspension bridge about 1000 ft above the Colorado River.  Ned was dubious as we approached — scoffing a bit that so much touristy enterprise had sprung up around something that, he said, “frankly doesn’t seem like it’s all that impressive.”  Ha.  About five minutes later, as we actually drove onto the bridge, he stopped the car dead in its tracks — voice nervously giddy and spewing expletives.  Suffice it to say that he was impressed.  This was the funniest moment of the trip.

Forgive some of the mediocre photography — this is mostly pocket camera stuff.

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