I may know

I don't know how we witnessed  a man filling up his boat's gas tank with a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth who was precariously close to the nozzle watching the gasoline flow and not blowing up.

I know that when we were in Flagstaff for lunch one afternoon we were walking down the street and all of the sudden it felt like home, the smell. It was a smell I hadn't came across since leaving. John pointed out that we just passed a woman with dreads in overalls playing a banjo on the corner.

I know that two beers after a huge day of mountain biking is just right.

I know that I am one lucky lady.

I know that time may disappear while driving in a Westfalia. Just straight up vanish.

I know that is completely acceptable during a mountain biking trip for us to walk into pizzeria and order two large pizzas and they are consumed with ease within two meals.

I know that showering everyday is not an option, nor every other day, try like on in five days. Rest days are just about as scarce. Life is short, the trip even shorter and the future unpredictable. Get after it. I know that my best days of riding were on the days after rest days.

I know that the Grand Canyon is rather grand.

 

 I still don't know if there is increased energy in the vortexs of Sedona. I know that I may never know and I find pleasure in the mystery.

I know that a hard days work is incredibly satisfying.

I know that 50+ miles in two days is too much for a dog, no matter how excited she is to be on a ride.

I now know that pine trees to grow to be bigger than I ever thought possible. I know that riding through old growth forests is a very special experience and why I never want to leave the three states that make up the west coast.

I know that if I am angry I am just hungry. If I am hungry it is too late.

I know that the owners of bike shops work really really hard. I have seen it over and over, town to town. I thank you, we thank you.

I know that first hand information about anything is always the best. Trails, food, beer, local swimming holes and camping spots.

I know that it is always good to slow down. I know that watching the sun come up is an exercise in slowing down.

I know never to pass judgment-ever. Period. I also know to try and get to know the people you are surrounded by. People have interesting stories and usually want to talk about them. 

I know that my husband is the most patient person I have ever met. I know he waits hours for me on big rides and then is happy when I finally make it to him. I now know he gets this trait from his father.

I know that the fastest people on bikes will never tell you.

I know that in Burley, Idaho there is not a single coffee shop or stand. It is a larger town. This blows me away and makes me really sad at 6 am. Someone save those folks or at least the travelers passing through and open a decent coffee stand.

I know that riding at 9,500 feet will make me queasy, riding at 11,000 feet makes me want to barf while gasping for air as my body tries like hell to get the oxygen it needs.

I know not to order cocktails in the state of Utah.

 I know why people are spiritual in Sedona and artists go to the Southwest.
I don't know if aliens landed at area 51, if they did I am glad they choose the middle of Nevada and not the Pacfic Northwest.

I know that I need to be reminded not to take myself too seriously.

I know that our dog will eat all the garbage if she can and then be really embarrassed and know it was wrong.

 I know that any ride could be my last. Life is real like that. We happened to pull up to a swimming hole in Sedona the same time this big crew of riders were. We went swimming they took their terminally ill friend for his first and last ride on red rock. I know that life is precious folks. 

I know that we rode almost 400 miles of trail, climbed almost 50,000 feet of trail in 6 states and 12 locations. I know that Galbraith is a special place, Squamish has the best trails and they are both moments from our house.

I know that coming home is bittersweet. It is great to be home but hard to adjust.

Las Vegas, Red Rocks

The drive into Vegas, the towns on the outskirts of Vegas took me by surprise. There is some shady activity going on out there. Mix the dry desolation of the desert with poverty and legal prostitution and people will make a way to get by. I might be making assumptions from the comfort of my car driving by on the interstate, but the area seemed really rough and I had no desire to lurk around the area.

We pulled into Las Vegas mid morning after a good two huge days of riding in Tahoe that were stacked on four days of riding before that. I felt my bits and pieces wearing down and even though the timing was perfect, we parked it in the trail head parking lot, I put my foot down and insisted that we take rest day.  It was turning out to be a scoarcher of a day and riding in the heat of the day isn’t the funnest way to spend time. John used a few hours to disassemble the back of the van to charge the AC and the extra love that a 25 year old German van needs which appently includes replacing fuel lines in the parking lot. John waned about the size of a tool box to pack, and after much consideration he packed a pretty hefty repertoire, including extra fuel lines that came in very handy. I love the Westy but I don't think I would feel as comfortable traveling in it without John and his mechanical savy. After cleaning up the yard sale we drove into the Red Rocks National Park.

Lucy loves the nomadic lifestyle

Neither of us had been into the park even though combined we have been to Vegas more than a dozen times. We enjoyed jumping out and snapping some pictures, saw a wild burro and looked for the alleged wild tortoises. Red Rocks is a major climbing destination (we have yet to climb there). It was fun to watch people gear up in the parking lots, knowing that this is what we must look like.

There didn’t seem to be much free camping in the vicinity so we camped in the one designated camping spot near the park. I think we hit them at a bad time but it felt like an incredible waste of money. There was no running water in the whole spread, it was under construction ( lets hope it was to bring water in) and a mess, no showers, no shade. The place was packed to boot, it would have been great to have been able to find a spot in the the main area and strike up a conversation with most likely other climbers but the place was at capacity. There was a spur for Rvs and we ended up finding a spot there and parked it for the night. It took all the will power we had to fight the urge to indulge in the city. Seriously. We were inches away. I made us a salad, John cracked another beer and we embraced being dirt bags. We invited a Swiss couple to share our site with us. They flew into LA and rented a cargo van and were hitting all the climbing spots in the south west.

The next morning we beat the heat and went for one of our shortest and fastest rides (for me) at Cottonwood and rode up to black velvet canyon. It was nice to be able to pedal hard for 90 minutes after being at elevation. The riding was fun enough but nothing to be blown away by.

I insisted on going to an In and Out burger in down town Vegas. I eat about one hamburger a year and for some reason I thought that today needed to be the day and I was under the impression that I was missing something by never have partaken in the chain. John tells me that I usually like the idea of something more than actually doing it. He knows me too well.