arches, accomplished

I---for some reason---don't care for the term bucket list.  possibly because I'm a word snob, possibly because I don't like cliches (I intend to eventually die, not kick the bucket), probably because I think we could all just be more creative if we tried.
so I don't have a bucket list.
actually, I don't even have much of a wish list.
I tend to take what comes my way instead of searching things out.  (I am not saying this is a good way to be:  I would probably have more adventures if I started dreaming up things I'd really like to do.  I'm just stating the fact that I am not a things-to-do-before-I-die list maker.)

however . . . for the past 6 years I've thought about riding my bike in arches national park.
and this past monday I finally did it.
whee!  and grunt, groan, grind.  another whee, more groaning and grinding . . .
here's an idea of the elevation gain and loss on the way in:

and then what you need to understand is that after you reach the turn-around point (the tip of that last blue peak) you have to turn around and come back out . . . going back down (whee!) and up (groan) and down (whee!) and up (grunt) and down (whew!).

it was one heck of a gorgeous ride with--truly--never a dull moment.  it wasn't an easy ride, but my new bike performed beautifully, and during the moments when I wasn't freezing or shaking with the cooling-off-sweaty-chills, I couldn't have been in a better place.

I mentioned in my prior post from moab that the landscape here sends me inward, to introspective and contemplative places.  I had long stretches of solitary miles, me, the red rocks, the blue sky, the wind . . . all so good for the soul. 

I'm glad I finally rode it.

I'm still not ready to make a list of things to do before I die, but there is one more ride I've been thinking about . . .

more on that---and an answer to what bike I'm riding these days---soon!

hope you find some whee! somewhere, somehow, today.

neither snow nor rain nor sleet nor wind

the old postal carrier saying seems to apply to my biking life:
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night....
may I just add sleet, cold, and wind?

greetings from moab, where, in march, the weather is essentially unpredictable and widely variable. 
and after two days of riding, we can attest to that.  we're here for the skinny tire festival:  3 days of riding in this startlingly beautiful, stark and quiet land which always leads me to introspection.  that is, when I can feel my fingers and toes.

we arrived in moab friday evening to a statement from the ride organizers that the saturday route had been changed due to the severe weather forecasted for the day.  lunch would NOT be served at the dead horse point turnaround, in fact, the route was no longer even heading up the hill toward dead horse point.
just because there was a 60% chance of moisture and a predicted high somewhere around 50?
wimps, I thought.   (just wait, humility is coming.)

we woke up saturday morning to gray, overcast skies which were holding their moisture in quite well, and we (i.e., susan, with john nodding in semi-reluctant agreement) decided to give it a try anyway.  heck, I've been cold before, I've been wet before.  I didn't come here to ride along the (yawn) river portal to potash, I came to ride up to dead horse point.  
the first 12 or so miles were through town and then along a beautifully designed bike path, not without some climbing, but off from the highway, hugging rock walls, surrounded by postcard-worthy beauty.  then we started up the 22-mile long route up to dead horse point.  it's possible we made it a mile before the first droplets of moisture hit my face, one here, pause, pause, another there.  totally tolerable.  completely.   
another mile up, a few more droplets.  okay, they were cold.  refreshing.  well, kind of like sleet.
another mile, more sleet-y stuff, well, and then it was no longer sleet but had become, yep, snow.
but light snow, pretty, not too bad, not like a solid wall of it or anything.
a few miles passed in this manner, and the nice thing about snow versus sleet/rain is that snow doesn't soak you quite as quickly.
then the snow began coming down a little more heavily.
then the wind picked up, whipping that snow more and more in my face.
we were a third of the way to the top, and my misery level was increasing iota by iota, pedal stroke by pedal stroke.
but I don't like to give up.
however, I kept looking for a landmark, a good turn-around point, a place I could say I made it to.  a campground, a monument, a significant rock, anything.  we were about 40% of the way up the hill, and . . . enough is enough.
I turned around;  john didn't argue.  

you know I don't like to give up.  and I can tough it out pretty well.  but sometimes the suffering just isn't worth it, and yesterday's ride pushed me to one of those points.

however . . . the new bike performed absolutely beautifully, and is an awesome machine.
grin.
it rode well today, too, against the wind up the colorado river and with the wind (whee!) back down to town.

yes, I know I haven't yet answered the time v. cannondale question.   here's a hint:  the answer is embedded in everything I've typed about this decision from the first post through today's.  cheers and here's to a warm and sunny monday in arches national park!

skinny tires and snow

this is where my head is today:
moab.

well, actually, it's here in gray-gloomy-waiting-for-a-snowstorm slc, and it keeps jumping onto the freeway, heading up spanish fork canyon past all those stunning and hypnotic wind turbines, out through price and 70 and into slickrock country.

this coming weekend is the skinny tire festival, a four-day event beginning with a 64-mile ride to dead horse point on saturday morning. sunday morning is a 50-mile ride along the colorado river corridor. monday is arches national park and tuesday is a river portal ride.

four years ago a friend and I hopped in her car and drove to moab for this event on a chilly (cold) friday in early march. before we left slc I bought thick biking pants with wind panels on the front and full booties, and packed up just about every warm riding thing I owned. my friend was bootie-less, and we hit every bike shop in moab friday evening, discovering them all to be completely sold out of booties, and painfully low on hats and gloves. I bought a skull cap (beanie), and kissed myself repeatedly the next day for doing so.
saturday morning warmed to about 26 degrees by the time we started our ride, my friend's feet encased in bread bags from the hotel coffee shop. at the first rest stop we warmed ourselves by a portable heater, and she bummed a pair of thicker gloves from another rider who had a spare pair, promising to return them that evening.
sunday morning was a toasty 30+ degrees, and we lunched at the top of dead horse point, perched on the rock surfaces we could find that weren't covered with snow.

this year, my favorite weather site, noaa, predicts for moab overnight lows of 35 degrees, and daytime highs about 65, mostly sunny saturday and generously sunny on sunday.

hmm.

sixty-five? sunny?

we're expecting our snowstorm later this afternoon, the snow level dropping to just a few hundred feet higher than my house. rain for me, and a few inches of snow for those higher on the bench. as evening descends and moves into pure night, somewhere between a few fingers and a handspan of snow will settle upon us.
a good chance of snow again tuesday, and then things begin to clear. the weekend here in slc looks decent, with a potential high of 53 on saturday, the overnight low only 36 or so. partly sunny. hmm. I'm ignoring the chance of snow saturday night and sunday.

playful me wants to go to moab.
practical me says it's a long drive and will cost me a bunch of money and take time away from all those other things I should be doing . . .

but snow? really? haven't we had enough? will biking season ever come?
sigh.

eenie, meenie, miney, mo . . . who all thinks I'll really go?