So yea, the gig is up. All the secrecy and weird posts on twitter a couple days ago should of led everyone to believe we visited Las Vegas. And we did. And yes it sucked and I would not recommend it. And I was not in my element. So we took a day and rode our bikes that we carefully packed and sent to ourselves in the desert. We rode just out of town a tad. Forgot what it was called.
It was good to be together alone. In Vegas you are never alone. Sifting through huge crowds. Trying to sleep while a party rages next door. Trying to not get ran over by traffic. No this was just us out on the trails all alone.
In places the trail was narrow with some decent cliff exposure. But with smiles instead of fear. There are plenty of places in Vegas to get exposed. From the hot sun to wild rides that take you to places of extreme exposure and terror. But here in the dirt we are right at home.
I rode my fatty because it was her 1,000th mile birthday party. I felt even better then expected. Lots of traction meant lots of fun and cushy speed. In Vegas one would say there is lots of speedy cars and fun “joints” to party. But not for me. Out here I find all the fun, grin inducing speed I need.
I linked together some nice corners and stopped. I wanted to see if my partner could do them as fast as I could. The beautiful curves of dirt … so sexy. Back in the “city of sexy” I wondered how many realized they were missing out on real beauty. My partner arrived in a cloud of dust and ripped by me. Oh, that’s sexy too.
I followed her down the remaining single-track until I found a line around her. I zipped by with a “wahooo” and she latched onto my rear wheel. A little competition developed as we snaked our way down a washout.
What is that? Why does the sign in the image say Jefferson River Canyon?
April Fools! We are at the Lewis and Clark Caverns. Had you fooled … right?