Das Land Der Elefanten

Yesterday I rode with my long-time friend David Mickelson. We rode through Mueller Park in Bountiful to Elephant rock.

First off, I think it's really cute -- or maybe the word's flattering -- how my friends think that I can climb. We pulled out of Mick's house onto the 14% grade that is his street. Yes, that's right, 14%! By the time we got to the trail, I already felt like I'd climbed as much as a commute ride. But I guess with mountain biking, climbing is kind of the point.

I was actually quite pleased with my ability to ride at dirt trail after so long off the dirt. There were only a few places on this -- admittedly buffed out -- trail where I lost traction, and I was never left completely gasping for air. I am of the opinion that Mick was being kind and not pushing his top speed up the climb, but I did ride all 400 vertical meters over the 9+/- km climb.

The ride back was of Deer Valley downhill quality. The trail swooped through trees and across the mountainside, ever so pleasantly making its way back to the road.

Now, a few observations from the ride. One is that the only problem with a popular trail is that it's so popular. There was no end of people on this trail, hiking, biking, or taking pictures. That did mean that I had to keep the speed in check, ready to stop at any given moment, and I had to be particularly careful approaching blind corners, of which there were more than a few.

I realized that, although putting on some years, I like my mountain bike still. It worked great for a trail like Mueller Park, with a balance of climbing and descending. Dave and I talked about how a good ride can make you lust after new equipment, or cause you to realize that you're okay with what you have. I went through both thoughts, but ended up liking what I have.

Finally, it was nice to catch up with Mick after a few years of each going our own way. I was realizing last night, after the ride, that there has to be some Force in the universe that, once people have intertwined paths for a long period, tends to keep those paths connected. It's like a rope. If you wind a rope tightly together, the ends that continue on will still be close together even if they're not connected into the rope itself. I've found this with several friends. Although we're separated by space and time we still find that we hold onto similar interests and still have things to talk about.

Oh, and riding a bike is a lot like riding a bike: you never forget how.