fall moab 2008
November 10, 2008
Apart from Elden being absent, which weighed heavily on everybody’s mind, and me being involved in a Grand County Search and Rescue Operation that made me feel like Robert De Niro’s Michael to John Cazale’s Stan in The Deer Hunter (think Christopher Walken saying “Whatsa matter wich you?”), Fall Moab was pretty awesome this year.
Logistically, these things get more complicated every year. For example:
Friday, twelve of us went down in the morning, in 6 cars, coming from the Salt Lake City area, St. George, Iowa, and Seattle. We then rode 3 variations of Porcupine Rim while Tom rode about a half mile of Slickrock. In the afternoon Sleepy and Jeff, got into town, couldn’t find the campsite, but somehow managed to stumble across 6 of us who had just exited the bottom of Porcupine Rim onto the Colorado River. 2 more cars and 3 more people arrived later during the bratwurst eating session.
And the next day, Saturday, we met up with Lee Johnson and 5 of his posse at the Gold Bar Rim trailhead, but lost them by the time we got to the Poison Spider Mesa trailhead, and meanwhile Brad and Jeremy showed up and met us at the Gold Bar Rim trailhead, and Tom was lost/left on the mesa until about 9pm (he ended up hiking down the Portal in the dark). Then Sam and Jon drove home after dinner while Sleepy and Jeff got a hotel cuz Jeff was so cold the night before.
Sunday morning Rick S., Gary, and Vince drove home, the rest of us rode Slickrock clockwise, while Tom rode it counterclockwise, and we finally broke camp around 1pm, and drove back to Salt Lake, where I dropped Bob off in Provo, and dropped Nick off at Kenny’s, where Brad was waiting to pick him up and take him to the airport so he could make his flight back to Seattle.
Rick S. has a great video of some of the highlights. It’s worth watching. Bob also has a nice write up. I took a video camera, but I crashed the first day on Porcupine Rim with the camera in my pocket, which put an end to my videography.
Oh, and I tore the crap out of both pair of plaid shorts. And forgot to bring both my helmet and shoes, something I realized as we were about to head out to ride Porcupine Rim. Miraculously, Rick S. had a spare pair of shoes with my style cleats, and Rick M. had a spare helmet. Which is, as I said, miraculous. I mean, what are the odds? Unfortunately, squeezing my head and feet into helmet and shoes that were both a size or two too small has left me with bound feet and a permanent ring around my head.
Some odd highlights:
Around the campfire I explained my method of teaching the birds and the bees to my kids, using a straw and a pencil. I’ll have to tell you about that sometime.
My right knee is now twice the size of my left knee, because my chain kept slipping and coming off on random super steep moves and hills. Not every move or hill, but maybe every 20th. Just when I would get my confidence back that the bike wasn’t going to throw my groin or knee into the stem, I’d put everything I had into a pedal stroke, only to have the chain slip off and throw my groin and/or knee into the stem. Good times.
If Cori Jones squeals like a little girl, it’s because he just did something totally insane, and is surprised to be alive. That happened about 6,000 times.
Ambien can make otherwise totally normal individuals (well, I guess the definition of NORMAL is important here) act like love starved monkeys if they manage to stay awake.
Turns out you CAN ride anything on a fixie. Well, I can’t, but Dave Nice can.
We missed Elden. We flew in missing wingman formation all weekend.
Jeremy came back after a 5 year absence, and it was like he was never gone. Seriously, same bike, same shorts, same helmet. Except now he acts French and smokes.
Tire changing old school, by committee.
Can you see my can in the middle?
It’s a magical place. See you next year.