I never though I would arrive in Moab without my mountain bike, but for the fourth year in a row, here I am... with my road bike. This weekend is the annual Lance Armstrong Foundation Skinny Tire Festival, a fundraiser for cancer research and a chance to bicycle for a cause.
The thing is, there was a time when I sneered at road bikers because they opted for "easier" rides. And that's partly true. Now that I ride my road bike between 100 and 200 miles a week, I tend to not do headers over the bars in technical drop-offs. I don't have sore wrists at the end of a the day. I no longer have moments of panic while looking straight down a slickrock section where the track disappears over the rock edge like a sickening roller coaster drop.
I'd never dare admit that I prefer road biking most days now because, well, it's easier. But I miss the solitude and beauty that lays itself out during a mountain bike ride. Off-road feeds my need for quiet and renewal. Road biking feeds my need for serious calorie-burning and mindless sweating.
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oday's ride was to the top of Dead Horse Point, a few miles north of Moab. Here are a few ride stats, according to my Garmin Edge 305 (not the newest, trickest unit, but it works):
Total miles: 62
Total elevation gain: 3,520 feet.
My average heart rate:143
Total ride time: 4 hrs 3 minutes
Total calories burned: 2723
The unexpected treasure today was looking at the La Sal mountain range to the East and the Henry Mountains to the west as I rode along the ridge to Dead Horse Point and realizing Torrey would be visible from here if it weren't for the mountains. So what? I don't know, but it may have something to do with Bob being in Torrey.
I don't know who the people in these photos are, but they didn't seem upset to be in my viewfinder. Therefore I don't have permission to post these photos, officially. So they are unofficial.
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