Inspirational

Colorado Mountain Bike Sampler
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Colorado Mountain Bike Sampler

Colorado has so much to offer in terms of mountain biking. I recently made a tour of several places that I’d been wanting to ride. It was the ultimate Colorado mountain biking sampler.

Hardscrabble map at the trail head

Day 1: East Hardscrabble Trail System – Eagle, Colorado – Located just off I-70, the East Harscrabble Trail System is a “SRMA”, Special Recreational Management Area of BLM Public Land. I found a loop on MTBProject.com that I had planned to ride. Unfortunately, the description lead me to a different trail head so I ended up doing an out and back. My advise is to thoroughly research your ride to ensure this does not happen to you. The trail I rode up was clearly designed for downhill, so I ended up scrambling out of the way on a couple of occasions. What I didn’t realize at the time is there is also a West Hardscrabble trail System that is open to ATV’s and motorcycles. I spent just over an hour riding here but it was long enough to know that I’d like to go back for more. Next stop: the desert.

Day 1: 18 Road Trail System – Fruita, Colorado – Located just a few miles north of Fruita, Colorado. This location is also BLM Public Land. I arrived in the early evening. What’s great about riding at this trail system in addition to its proximity to Fruita, is there is also camping available, and well maintained vault toilets. While the trail system is located in the desert, it doesn’t have the technical rocks and ledges that tend to be present in the desert. In fact, the trails I rode were so dry and well traveled, it was almost like riding on a concrete path in places. Because this system is nestled right up against what is known as the “book cliffs”, some of the trails offer a lot of short and snappy ups and downs, so speed is key. I was able to get one ride in just before sunset on Day 1 and an early morning ride on Day 2. Trees in the area are scarce, so my suggestion is to choose a campsite wisely and avoid riding in the heat of the day. As of April 8, 2022, Class 1 E-Bikes are welcome to ride throughout the 18 Road Trail System.

A view from Mary’s Loop

Day 2: Kokopelli Loops at McInnis Canyon Conservation Area – Loma, Colorado – Located just west of Fruita, right along the Colorado/Utah border sits the McInnis Canyon Conservation Area. Trailhead parking is right off I-70, giving this trail system quick and easy access. I spent most of Day 2 riding the variety of trails available in this system: from easy green loops (Rustler’s Loop), to a very difficult black diamond trail (Moore Fun). This trail system is full of sandy, ledgy, rocky technical features. The scenery in this area is breathtaking. Trees are scarce and riding in the middle of the day in the desert is not ideal, but it’s what worked with my schedule that day.

50 Shades of Green

Day 3: Uncompahgre National Forest – Montrose, Colorado – Montrose is the gateway to the San Juan Mountains. However, just west of town is a lesser known gem for mountain biking, the Uncompahgre Plateau. If you’re a mountain biker, you’ve probably heard of a ride near Moab called “the whole enchilada”. Not to be outdone, Montrose offers “the whole uncolada”. I rode a portion of this trail and found it to be a pleasant change from the desert riding of the previous two days. The route went through the forest and it was considerably cooler on the Plateau. In my Strava upload, I ended up calling the ride 50 Shades of Green, and you can probably guess why.

Day 4: Electric Hills Trail System– Montrose, Colorado – What happens when land provided by Xcel Energy is developed into a mountain bike trail system? You end up with fantastic trail names like Flux Capacitor, Shock Therapy, and Electric Avenue, among others. The trail system is nestled in a juniper grove growing in the red high desert dirt overlooking Montrose. It’s like Christmas manifested itself as a mountain bike trail, and you’re the lucky kid riding a bike through it.

Day 5: Hartman Rocks – Gunnison, Colorado – This system is located just outside Gunnison. What I didn’t know about this trail system is that it is open to ALL the bikes… mountain bikes, e-bikes, and motorcycles. The day I rode, I saw only other mountain bikes, but motorcycle tire marks were visible in the trails I rode. What I really like about this area aside from the fact that it doesn’t discriminate against certain bike types, is the terrain itself. It’s high desert, so there were rock features, flowy single track, sand pits and lots of sage brush. Once again, trees were scarce, so I’d suggest not riding in the middle of a hot day and choosing campsites wisely.

Day 5: Methodist Mountain Trail System – Salida, Colorado – This system sits on the mountains south of town, making it quickly accessible. While I didn’t ride all the trails, the ones I did ride seemed to be very thoughtfully designed for riding up or down. Their signage also reflected the preferred riding direction. While this is nice for trail users, it made the trails feel very “human made”, unlike other trails that seem to appear and feel more like the surrounding landscape.

Royal Gorgeous

Day 5: Royal Gorge Park Trails System – Canon City, Colorado – This should really be called the Royal Gorgeous Park. It’s not an extensive trail system by any means, but the views were some of the best of the trip. While I was feeling rushed for time to finish before dark, I’d recommend taking your time and a picnic and enjoying the spectacular scenery offered on this trail system. It’s far enough from town that you’ll want to be prepared by packing everything needed for a ride on what I’d categorize as an intermediately technical trail system.

Yep, Day 5 was full. I went home with tired legs and a happy heart.

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The Silver Lining
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The Silver Lining

I remember the conversation vividly. I was walking through the sunshine with my daughter. She was telling me that she would graduate in the year 2020. She was young, perhaps in second or third grade, making her eight, maybe nine years old. Our conversation would have occurred in 2010 or 2011. As we walked along we talked with excitement about what a cool sounding year it was… 2020. That conversation is the first time I can recall having any thoughts about 2020; how dramatically different the reality of 2020 turned out to be compared to what we both envisioned that sunny afternoon. Like so many others have done, I could list all the negative things that 2020 delivered, but I don’t want to give it any more energy than it has already taken. Instead, I want to focus on the positive things that 2020 delivered.

Family time – Sierra came home in March for what we thought would be a week’s spring break. She ended up staying until August when she departed for her Freshman year of college. That six month window of time gave us back some of the family time that we lost when she moved away in 2017 to pursue her hockey dreams. I’ll be forever grateful for it.

High School Graduation – While the ceremony itself was anti-climatic after being postponed more than once, the fact that she walked across a stage with with Salutatorian cords made Motoman and I so proud. Maintaining high grades during a pandemic wasn’t easy.

Construction – With nothing better to do during the lockdown in March and April, we turned to home improvement projects. We now have an additional bedroom in our house, which freed up space for a dedicated office in our small house. We’re still arm-wrestling to see who gets the office most days.

Cooking – No one will ever call me a great cook; but no one in my family went hungry. I got to try lots of new recipes. In fact, I found a very similar recipe for one of my favorite dishes available at an over-priced restaurant in Applewood.

Saddle Time – While I didn’t reach my cycling distance goal for the year, I did get some fun riding in at places like Crested Butte. I also was able to spend more time exploring the hiking trails within steps of my front door. I spent more time on the motorcycle riding tracks and trails with my family. As a result of all this riding and skills development, I’m now confident enough to try riding an even bigger, more powerful dirt bike.

Job Transition – I’m so excited to have accepted a position last fall with a company in an industry I’m passionate about. Working has never felt less like work!

For me, one of the most humbling lessons of 2020 was that I don’t have as much control as I thought I did. I can’t replace the people and experiences my family lost this year, but I can control my perspective on the losses. Usually this is the time of year when I reflect on the bike races I competed in the prior year and set goals for the future.  This year, I don’t have any races to reflect on, which feels different, but ok.  For 2021 I want to focus more on activities that a future version of myself will be grateful for. This includes things like more yoga, better eating, catching air on the motorcycle, and being open to new activities. Sometimes just a slight shift in perspective is all it takes to find the silver lining.

Mt. Evans – A Road Review
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Mt. Evans – A Road Review

I’ve written race reviews. I’ve written ride reviews. I’ve written some equipment reviews. Now, I respectfully submit my first ever “road review”.  I recently had the opportunity to ride my bike up the highest paved road in North America. This wasn’t the first time I’ve made the ascent; I’ve done the climb a handful of times. Once when the road was closed to traffic because of a bike race, and the others when the road was open to motorized vehicles.

What made this ascent special was that the road was closed to vehicles because of the Coronavirus. If you’re a person who will only experience North America’s highest paved road from car windows, then this is yet another thing to add to the list of what’s been taken away by the pandemic of 2020.

Let’s begin with a little history lesson. First, Mt. Evans is the most prominent peak visible to the west of Denver.Denver_at_a_Glance___VISIT_DENVER It is one of Colorado’s iconic 14ers. 14ers are peaks whose summits are at or above 14,000 feet above sea level. Colorado is home to 53 such peaks. Construction on Colorado Highway 5 began back in July of 1923. After about eight years of construction, the road opened to the public. The road is about 14 miles long and begins at an elevation of 10,600 feet at Echo Lake.  It winds through the Arapahoe National forest with trees 900 – 2,000 years old. Beautiful scenery of alpine lakes, the continental divide, wild flowers and wild life abound. 

Enough about the spectacular scenery, let’s get to the road conditions.  As the highest paved road in North America, there are some challenges that go along with maintaining the road.  Winters are long and harsh and take a toll on the road.  Let’s face it, at that elevation, most cyclists are pedaling along slowly enough to easily avoid the larger holes and cracks on the ascent.  And there are many cracks in the road, particularly from mile 9 to the summit.  There are also some wheel eating sized holes along the way.  

However, on the descent, these bumps, cracks, and holes present a danger to cyclists.  I’ve witnessed bike crashes resulting in broken bones on the descent.  The best advice I’ve received for the descent is to let some air out of the tires.  The next best thing to happen is not to have to contend with vehicles on the descent.  Without cars, cyclists can really take advantage of finding the smoothest line for the descent.  In many instances, this is right down the middle of the narrow road.

Perhaps the most exciting side effect of closing the road to motorized vehicles was the abundance of mountain goats and big horn sheep at the summit.  There were so many standing on the road, laying beside the road, playing just off the road. I wish that everyone could witness that, but I suspect the cars have a tendency to drive them further away.

It may be selfish, but I’m voting to keep the road closed to vehicles indefinitely.  Having the mountain to yourself on the bike was such a treat!  I saw all forms of bikes being ridden by riders of all ages.  One fine gentleman that I spoke with was on his second ascent of the day, and he was probably 20 years my senior.  I saw two kid trailers being pulled along by brave (and strong) parents.  What a memorable family outing that would be!

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To the West of Mt. Evans

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The Mountain Goat King

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Can you see him?  And yes, the sky is really that blue in Colorado.

Life Lessons from the Sandpit
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Life Lessons from the Sandpit

My first experience with riding through a substantial amount of sand occurred in a cyclocross race at Boulder Reservoir. After finishing that race, I told myself I would never race that course again.  I just don’t like riding a bicycle through sand.  When I started riding the dual sport motorcycle, we eventually made our way to substantial amounts of sand in the Utah desert.  After the Utah trip, I concluded that I just don’t like riding through sand at all, no matter what kind of bike I’m on.

Regardless of the type of bike you are on, the technique for getting through the sand is the same: sit down, weight the back wheel, allow the front wheel to float, and power through.  It sounds so easy, doesn’t it?  What could possibly go wrong?

As I applied the technique in the deepest part of the sand pit at a recent adventure in the fullsizeoutput_4d9dGreat Sand Dunes, I found that my front wheel tended to have a mind of its own and often went in the direction of its choice.  The words “bucking bronco” came to mind.    Of course I dropped the bike a number of times.  I was grateful for every recent squat repetition and push up.  Without those, I wouldn’t have had the strength to pick up a 300 pound bike repeatedly and keep going.

After making it through that 3/4 mile sand pit on my own, it occurred to me how many life lessons could be learned in that sand pit.

I have compiled a list of those lessons here to share with all of you:

~Keep pushing and eventually you get through it.

~Sometimes life requires that we do things we don’t like to do.

~Nurture your body and spirit so that it can overcome challenges.

~Don’t go on an adventure without first educating yourself of the risks.

~Learn skill techniques related to the activities you do.

~Be prepared for the worst case scenario.

Sometimes the bike doesn’t go through the sand in a straight line.  There will be bumps and bounces along the way.  There will be surprises along the way. You might even have to pick yourself up and dust yourself off from time to time.  You might need to relax your grip and just go with it.  Life is full of unexpected twists and turns. Be open and adaptable to a challenge.  Life really begins at the end of your comfort zone.

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Tour of the Moon – A Ride Review
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Tour of the Moon – A Ride Review

I have ridden in a fair number of cycling events, such as the Triple Bypass, the Yellowstone Cycle Tour, and the Copper Triangle.  While each of these events has it’s own unique characteristics that have the potential to lure me back for a second ride, the only cycling event I’ve done twice is the Icon Tour of the Moon.  The ride starts and finishes in Grand Junction, Colorado each fall.

The ride organizers have conveniently created two registration options for riders.  The first option is the Classic Loop from Grand Junction through the Colorado National Monument and back to Grand Junction for a total of 41 miles.  The other option consists of the Classic Loop plus an additional ~20 miles through the farmlands around Fruita and then returning to Grand Junction. The result is a metric century ride or 62 miles.  When my friend was asking which option we should register for, I described it as the pretty part that you’re paying for vs. the afterthought.

What I mean by that is one lane of Rim Rock Drive (the main road through the Colorado National Monument) is closed to non-ride event traffic during the ride.  This means that you only have to lookout for oncoming vehicles, and most of those are SAG vehicles or motos anyway.  This makes for a fantastic way to experience such a majestic place!  In exchange for your quiet riding pleasure, all that is required is lights on your bicycle.  Folks, it just doesn’t get any better than this!  After exiting the Colorado National Monument, you have the option to return immediately to Grand Junction or take the tour around Fruita.  While the country roads offer their own charm and views of the Grand Mesa Book Cliffs, the scenery in the Colorado National Monument is hard to beat.  The race organizers have created a segment of road called the “King/Queen of the Flats” to add some excitement to the metric century portion of the ride.

All ride entry fees include a jersey and post-ride lunch.  The lunch is typically salad, pasta, and desert.  The aid stations throughout the ride are very well stocked with fluids, bagels, cookies, fruit, trail mix, and energy bars.  The volunteers are friendly and helpful.  Law enforcement is attentive.  Overall, if the weather cooperates, this ride is a wonderful way to cap the cycling season.

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Finding Dory

Long ago when I met Motoman ~ circa 1997 ~ he was riding a crotch rocket style motorcycle. He was into big adventures. Our weekends consisted of rock climbing in the mornings and jet skiing in the afternoons. Mountain biking was thrown into the mix between all the other fun activities. A few years later, along came Sierra and farewell went that motorcycle. He lasted about ten years without a motorcycle.

When he got back on the motorcycle, his focus turned to dual-sport riding with the kind of motorcycle built for riding on roads and dirt alike. His adventures became more exciting as he traveled to far away places.  Sierra and I would look and listen with awe at his pictures and stories. It wasn’t long before Sierra presented us with half the money necessary to purchase her own motorcycle. Together they rode off and returned with beautiful pictures taken from mountaintops across Colorado and memories that will last a lifetime.   I came to realize it would be impossible to visit many of these places on my mountain bike; and, more importantly, that I was missing out on some fantastically adventurous family time. This became particularly evident on a family trip to Lake City, Colorado.

After returning home from Lake City, the search began for a dual-sport style motorcycle that would fit under my short legs. The choices were few and far between. To top it off, I wasn’t willing to pay for a new motorcycle that I knew would likely take a beating as I learned how to trail ride. We finally got a phone call in May of 2016 that a motorcycle had arrived at Motorado that just might work. I quickly snatched it up since there weren’t any others to choose from.

I’m pleased to introduce Dory aka Little Bluey. You can find her in the picture below. Since I started this blog back in 2014, the posts have been about bike rides, bike races, bike gear, and lessons learned from the saddle.  That’s going to change. I’ll continue riding and writing as inspiration comes. However, the stories will now include experiences from a motorcycle saddle.

I hope you’ll keep reading and find yourself some inspiration.

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Nederland CX – A Race Review
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Nederland CX – A Race Review

As I drove up Highway 72 to Nederland, I wondered just what the course for this inaugural Nederland Cyclocross race would be like.  The race flyer stated that the race course would wind through the heart of the town and include a mix of cyclocross features.  What exactly, did that description mean?  As visions or stairs and other urban cross features floated through my head, I parked and made my way to the registration tent.

The first feature I noticed was a very sharp, uphill turn onto a covered pedestrian bridge over a creek.  After retrieving my race number, I walked a bit more of the course.  I noticed another bridge and some railroad tie barriers.  I made some smalltalk with a woman nearby.  The topic of conversation quickly came around to the race course.  She mentioned on the other side of the course, that if you didn’t take the right line in one section, you were sure to end up in the lake.

At that point I decided it was in my best interest to get my bike out of the car and take a pre-ride of the course.  I didn’t mind getting dirty, but I certainly did not want to land in a lake astride my bike.  Once the current race was over, I pedaled on to the course.  I ended up behind another guy who must have already raced, because as we rode along, he told me about what was coming up around each bend.  In this section of the course that wound along the creek, the vegetation was so tall that you couldn’t see what was coming until you were there.  The first surprise was a sharp left turn.  The next surprise was a path of beaten down cat tails.  The mud below the cat tails was now being churned up by all the bike tires.  At the end of the cat tails was a steep run-up.

The next part of the course was the hard part: two- three off-camber ups and downs on loose dirt, and the steepest, loosest run-up ever.  This was followed by the steepest, loosest descent ever seen (by me!) on a cyclocross race course.  It was during this descent that I came upon the place where landing in the lake was supposedly a certainty if one were to take the wrong line.  My conclusion was that landing in the lake was only a remote possibility under the worst set of circumstances.  At the end of the lap, I began to question whether this race was something I could actually finish, let alone be competitive in.  I’d been nursing a sore shoulder all week and it would be impossible for me to shoulder the bike in any of the sections where it would make sense to do so.  I’d have to run the bike and lift it over the barriers when necessary.  I considered packing my bike in the car and going home right then and there.  Then my phone rang and Motoman wanted to know if it was raining in Nederland?  I looked up at the threatening skies and thought how miserable this course would become if the skies were to let go.

When Motoman arrived, I mentioned how hard the course was and that I was IMG_0925contemplating leaving.  His response was that it would be just as hard for everyone else as it would be for me.  As I pinned the number to my jersey, I thought to myself that I’ll just ride it; then I won’t have any expectations nor disappointment about how I finish.  Then we got a FaceTime call from our daughter who we hadn’t spoken to in a couple of days. It proved to be the perfect distraction.  When we hung up, I had only about 30 minutes before the start time to pedal around and half-heartedly warm-up.  Besides, who needs to warm-up for ride??

Promptly at 5:10 PM, the race started and we were off!  Racers were still rather clumped together when I reached the hard part of the course.  A crash in front of me forced me off the bike and to run more of the off-camber section than I would have liked.  However, as I trotted along, I realized that the women who were riding weren’t going any faster than I was.  I had started to run with my bike because I didn’t want to stop. But now that I couldn’t find a decent place to remount, I just kept going.  Two thoughts occurred to me as I finished that first lap 1) I did not want to run as much on the next lap and 2) this race was as hard for the other women as it was for me!

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Photo Credit: Cid Dennis

I dug in and settled into a pace I could sustain for five more laps.   I’m so proud to have finished such a difficult race!  Taking 2nd place was the icing on the cake!

 

 

 

 

Not only was this the hardest race I’ve finished, it was also the most expensive:

  1. Entry fee: $30
  2. Deductible for car repairs necessary from colliding with black bear on the way home: $750
  3. While tasty, the six pack of beer only drowned my sorrows temporarily.

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    Master’s Women 40+, 2nd Place Photo by: Cid Dennis

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    That’s black bear fur stuck in the wheel.

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Stay Calm and Take Calcium!

Have a conversation of any length with any cyclist and it will typically lead to a “JRA” story. A JRA story begins with “ I was just riding along…” Typically these words lead to an exciting or interesting cycling tale. A number of my JRA stories end with details describing how I was just riding along when I was thrown to the ground. While each of the stories is different in the circumstances of the crash, one thing remains consistent amongst all the stories, and that is my calm reaction following the crash.

After my first serious mountain bike crash, I remember being dazed and confused. One moment I had been upright, pedaling along with a gentle breeze on my face, feeling proud that I had reached the end of a long and technical ride, and in the next moment I found myself and my bike laying in the dirt. As I sat on the ground in a puff of dust examining my injuries, my radio beeped. I pressed the talk button and mumbled that I thought I saw bone. It turned out not to be bone, but was soft tissue that was not meant to see the light of day. It didn’t take long for my riding companions to return to my aid and get me to the ER for stitches. This crash happened so quickly and unexpectedly, that I didn’t have time to react with much more than surprise.

In my next serious crash, I had lots of time to think about the landing as I sailed though the air face first toward a boulder. At the last moment I curled my head backward to avoid hitting the boulder with my face and took the impact to my sternum. As I came to rest in the dirt, I remember trying to call out to my fast friend whom I was trying to keep up with. The exertion of attempting to yell hurt my chest and it came out as a whisper. It hurt to breathe and as I lay in the dirt, I wondered if this would be the crash that I was unable to pedal away from. After a few minutes had passed, I caught my breath, picked myself up off the ground, and giggled with joy.  I was joyful that I could get up.  I remounted the bike at about the same time my friend had come back to find me. Together we slowly rode back to the cars. An ER visit was not necessary, but a 6 week break from biking was.

When I crashed in late June, I was on a 25 mile ride beginning in Golden Gate Canyon State Park and ending in White Ranch Open Space in Jefferson County just outside Golden, Colorado.  It was a beautiful day without a cloud in the cobalt blue skies overhead as we pedaled away from the trailhead. Like an eraser on a chalkboard, enough moisture had fallen the night before to erase the tracks of trail users from the previous day. I could still feel the thickness of the humidity in the air. We settled into a prolonged climb on smooth, narrow singletrack. Eventually that smooth path gave way to rockier terrain surrounded by pine trees and aspen. It was on a rocky descent where I went down about 13 miles into the route. As I came to rest with my knee wedged between rocks and bike frame, I wondered how severe the damage to my bike and leg would be. I was grateful to be riding with a well prepared nurse because it was obvious the couple of bandaids tucked in my backpack wouldn’t be enough to handle the blood. There weren’t any broken bones, and I recognized from my first crash that soft tissue that isn’t supposed to see the outside world. Stitches would have been appropriate, however we were miles from anywhere without any cell phone signal. Walking or riding out were the only two options; it hurt less to pedal, so that’s  what I did.

MotoMan has been with me through all three crashes and he asked me the other day how I remain so calm afterward? It’s interesting he describes me as calm when I felt anything but calm on the inside.  Apparently I’m the only one who can hear my pounding heart. After some reflection on this question, I concluded that I stay calm because I like to be in control of what happens to me. If I’ve had a crash, it means I’ve lost control and, for me, that’s the worst part.  After the initial shock of the impact passes, I turn my attention to what I can control; like determining whether anything is bloody, broken or bent ~ on me or the bike. After that assessment, I take what action is necessary to get up and pedal away.

When it comes to stressful situations where others are hurt, I try to take a similar approach. If there is anything that I can control to contain the situation, I do that. At the very least, remaining calm can be comforting and contagious to the person in need.  I’ve heard that people are defined by their reaction to crisis.  How will you react in a defining moment?

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Shifting Gears

Ascending a hill begins with pedaling as long as you can in whatever gear you happen to be in.  As turning the pedals becomes more difficult, you shift into an easier gear with the push of a finger or two.  Leg muscles and lungs quickly adapt to the change in tension. When you finally get to the easiest gear, you settle into a rhythm and keep pedaling.  When you crest the hill, more tension is added with the push of a finger and once again the body adapts in a matter of seconds.

Wouldn’t it be great if our minds could adapt to change as quickly?

Fourteen years ago I became a mother.  My first mother’s day can best be described as weird.  When my daughter was born, I’d spent over 30 years making  Mother’s Day special for my mom.  My mom’s birthday just happens to be May 13th.  Some years, Mother’s Day and her birthday would fall on the same day.  No matter when Mother’s Day was observed, my brothers and

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Me, my mom and brothers on my 1st birthday.  Angel food is still my favorite!

 

I attempted to keep the two separate and special.

But there I found myself, at the center of attention on a day that felt like it was about anyone but me.   Eventually I shifted gears and settled into the rhythm of enjoying Mother’s Day, just like my mom must have done when it was new to her all those years ago.  After she died, I once again found myself in a strange place with Mother’s Day.  While I had been a mother for eight years at the time of her death, I’d spent nearly four decades making that day special for her.  I guess you could say I failed to shift gears and allow myself to adapt to a new meaning of Mother’s Day.  I could no longer look at cards for my mothers-in-law because they all made me cry.  The flowers at the store, commercials I saw on TV, and pictures on Facebook only reinforced what I no longer had.  If you haven’t lost someone you love, you might not understand what I mean when I say that she is never far from my thoughts.  The absence of that loved one leaves a large void  in each and every day, but especially on days like Mother’s Day or birthdays.

Motoman and I were talking recently and the subject of Mother’s Day came up.  I told him I no longer do Mother’s Day since I don’t have a mother.  He looked at me and replied “well, you should since you have a daughter.”  In that moment, recognized my failure to adapt to the new meaning of Mother’s Day.   I realized how selfish and unfair I’d been to my own daughter for the last six years.  She’s spent her entire life making Mother’s Day special for me and here I was, refusing to shift gears and adapt to life as it remains.

It’s been a challenging ride, but I think it’s time to find the right gear for the rest of this climb, settle into a rhythm, and keep pedaling.

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Spring 2002 – shortly after Sierra was born. 3 generations.

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Keep Left… or Not

My dear friend JQ has been a great riding buddy and friend since I met her four years ago.  We normally mountain bike together.  I’d hurt my tailbone recently and couldn’t do anything too strenuous, so we decided to take to the road in Bear Creek Lake Park.  It was planned to be a slow, chatty ride so we could catch up on all the recent changes in our lives.  As we pedaled along the bike path, I couldn’t help but be astonished by the fact that there was an entire paved loop throughout the park that I had never ridden.  I typically ride the dirt there on my mountain bike, so this was an exciting discovery for me!  I’d always wondered what people were referring to when they talked about riding the loop through Bear Creek clockwise or counter clockwise.

As we climbed up a hill on the southeast side of the park, the path forked and I started to veer to the right.  JQ called out to keep left.  A bike in the distance caught my eye.  It was laying in the dirt beside the path with what appeared to be a sweatshirt or coat beside it.  I thought it seemed odd that there was a bike there, without a person nearby.  They do tend to go in pairs.  I looked left and then right again as JQ repeated to keep left.  I didn’t see anyone around the bike and decided to go investigate.  As I approached the bike, I realized the clothing on the ground was, in fact, on a person who was laying there, entangled in the bike.  I dismounted and approached the man as he lay in the dirt bleeding from his nose and head.  He was unconscious but breathing.  Beside him was a puddle of blood.  I started talking to him to see if he would open his eyes or speak.  After a few seconds we decided to call 911 and summon help.  I didn’t find any identification on the man and his phone was of no help.  We managed to get his name ~ Mark ~ and remove the bike whose handlebars had somehow found their way around his leg.  He was in obvious pain and could barely move.  As he moved in and out of consciousness, we kept him calm and still as the paramedics made their way up the bike path.

As the ambulance drove away, we observed 10 feet or so of silver scrape marks on the sidewalk that led directly to the puddle of blood.  It appeared Mark was descending when something went dreadfully wrong.  The few cyclists who had gathered had a brief discussion about the risks of riding alone. Phones that require a touch ID or key code are of absolutely no use to a complete stranger trying to offer help to someone incapacitated.   Some of us were wearing our Road ID‘s, others were not.  Each of us keenly aware that it could have been any one of us laying there in the dirt.

Have you ever observed how people come into our lives at just the precise moment when we need them?  Then, when their job is done, they’re gone. I’ve observed this a number of times in my life and the timing of this phenomenon never ceases to amaze me.  It’s sort of like the ebb and flow of the ocean tide.  As you walk along a beach, you’ll encounter shells and sand washed in by the waves.  Some of the shells will catch your eye, some will not.  Some will end up in your pocket to keep and others will disappear back into the water as quickly as they appeared.  And like the grains of sand under your feet that make your path of travel easier, some people are simply there to lend a hand when you are unable to help yourself.  I’m not sure what compelled me to go right rather than left.  I guess on this occasion, I was meant to be the grain of sand. beach