A friend of mine – who happens to own a bike shop – once told me he doesn’t bother bringing his bike to Telluride because the riding just isn’t worth it. Last week, I headed to Telluride to prove him wrong, and in the process realized my definition of a stellar mountain bike trip is
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!
When I took my new van to Flagstaff Auto Repair for the first time the manager told me the mechanics were worried I’d made a horrible mistake. I don’t blame them. At first glance, the van looks like it was never loved. The paint job is potentially the ugliest ever to roll into Flagstaff, plus