The weather was exceptionally warm for April, and I intended to take full advantage of it. My plan was to ride a giant figure eight around Flagstaff – over 60 miles and 7,000 feet elevation gain – all on really fun singletrack. Around mile 35 I started up Little Bear, a steep trail on the
Category: Bike Life
I had an out of body experience while standing under the Construction Zone team tent a few weeks ago at an MBAA race. The team manager asked me if I wanted to join a four-woman Old Pueblo team at the last minute. Without hesitation, and with a great deal of enthusiasm in my voice, I
Our route planning commenced the same as it usually does. I volunteered a route, Artec responded with zero active listening signs, which annoyed me, so when he suggested a route I intentionally chose not to listen. I drew part of a track I thought looked good, Artec (still not really listening), told me he didn’t
“Men still run the world; I’m not sure it’s going so well.” – Sheryl Sandberg Three days before Christmas I was driving Flagstaff’s party bike – the Alpine Pedlar – with a fake smile plastered on my face as the passengers sang and danced to Christmas music. Under layers of long underwear, fleece pants, and a
I picked myself up quickly, pedaled hard for a few strokes to gain some speed, and promptly clipped a pedal on a rock and flew over my handlebars – over the exposed edge of the trail – into a thicket of willows. It was like landing on a mattress! I peered over the edge of the willows and said a little prayer to the Goddess of Mountain Biking – it was steep!
My two teammates – both named Erin, both the youngest children in their families, both fairly quiet souls measuring 5’2 and weighing in at 103 pounds a piece – are capable of tooting cute little rainbows every once in awhile. I’ve witnessed it. But racing your bike all night long is disgusting business, and I
My dad and I used to spend the long drives discussing race strategies like, “play opossum for the first few miles,” “put a rascal move on the competition when they don’t expect it,” and, “don’t be a wounded animal when you start to feel tired.”
Artec and I flew into Liberia, Costa Rica on New Year’s Eve. We knew the trip was off to a good start when a cab driver in a tiny red economy car strapped Artec’s bike box to the roof and gestured for me to squeeze into the backseat and position myself on hands and knees
Tip #2: Pick up after yourself. Dear Mountain Biker Dude, You left two soaking wet carpets behind at 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo. I tried to find you on Facebook, but I can’t remember your name, and it turns out there are a lot of males who race bikes on Facebook. So I’m leaving
Tip #1: When you are standing on the trail, and a rider approaches, the polite thing to do is move out of the way – even if the rider is a girl.