the sourdough trail...
the details are a blur as this afternoon ride was well over a decade ago
so bear with me as I see what spits out
after college I was not sure what to do with my life
I fell into the things that felt comfortable... hanging with friends, drinking and going out, and working the same job I worked during the summers and winters while in college
not sure what to do... I loaded up my motorcycle and zig zagged cross country
after a short stint in the Bay area I sold the motorcycle, flew back east, loaded my car and drove out to Colorado
while in Colorado I lived in the ski town of Breckenridge
jobs were seasonal... after the season those with seasonal jobs found themselves jobless
during the summer I spent a good amount of my time riding in the area and traveling about
there were multiple trips to Moab and a good amount of time with friends in Boulder
when hanging with friends in Boulder I kept bumping into a friend from college
I would be on the bike path and there would be this tall lanky women with long blond hair hammering on her mountain bike
we would chat while we rode
then split off to continue on our way
these chance occurrences repeated themselves
we were both on mountain bikes while riding the paved trail
actual mountain biking had been mentioned
so we made plans to go mountain biking
I showed up at her place and we loaded our bikes on the bumper mounted rack of my forest green volkswagon rabbit convertible
as we headed out of sunny Boulder towards Nederland the weather started to change
the temperature grew cooler and the clouds got thicker
then it started to rain
icy cold rain drops on a summer day
we continued to drive with the top down
with speed maintained the cold rain drops did not effect us
at speed this cold rain did not even get the rear seats wet
as we climbed the rain became snow
when we got to the trailhead of the Sourdough Trail there were quarter size snow flakes gently falling to the earth
I was not sure what to do...
when I turned to ask this friend from college if she still wanted to ride I saw that she had more gear in her bag
she had come prepared for what the mountains had to offer
she pulled tights over her shorts and a shell over her jersey
she left the fingerless gloves in her bag and put on some full finger gloves
I suited up as well and we hit the trail
the specifics are a blur...
we were both on Cannondales with rigid forks
more than likely thumb shifters that barely shifted and brakes that did not do much to stop the bike
I do recall that we hammered
while we rode the rocky technical terrain of this trail the snow fell
being young I ran the same routine with her that I did with other friends who were slower than me
I rode my pace... while she rode her's
turning back every mile or so after I got a little bit ahead
each time I was shocked at how close behind me
SHE WAS ROCKING IT!
and it was rocky
or so I recall
I am still not sure what to do with my life
I am still doing what feels comfortable
this post was weak
I failed to do that story any justice
it was not so much the absence of ten cent adjectives and fifteen cent adverbs
it was more a matter of the absence of content
a mixture of the years past and the incriminating nature of words I did not go into the increased respect and increased attraction created by seeing this friend hammer on the bike displaying that mountain bike spirit
it was also really cool to experience the splendor of a mountain's ability to express several seasons in the course of an afternoon
the details are a blur as this afternoon ride was well over a decade ago
so bear with me as I see what spits out
after college I was not sure what to do with my life
I fell into the things that felt comfortable... hanging with friends, drinking and going out, and working the same job I worked during the summers and winters while in college
not sure what to do... I loaded up my motorcycle and zig zagged cross country
after a short stint in the Bay area I sold the motorcycle, flew back east, loaded my car and drove out to Colorado
while in Colorado I lived in the ski town of Breckenridge
jobs were seasonal... after the season those with seasonal jobs found themselves jobless
during the summer I spent a good amount of my time riding in the area and traveling about
there were multiple trips to Moab and a good amount of time with friends in Boulder
when hanging with friends in Boulder I kept bumping into a friend from college
I would be on the bike path and there would be this tall lanky women with long blond hair hammering on her mountain bike
we would chat while we rode
then split off to continue on our way
these chance occurrences repeated themselves
we were both on mountain bikes while riding the paved trail
actual mountain biking had been mentioned
so we made plans to go mountain biking
I showed up at her place and we loaded our bikes on the bumper mounted rack of my forest green volkswagon rabbit convertible
as we headed out of sunny Boulder towards Nederland the weather started to change
the temperature grew cooler and the clouds got thicker
then it started to rain
icy cold rain drops on a summer day
we continued to drive with the top down
with speed maintained the cold rain drops did not effect us
at speed this cold rain did not even get the rear seats wet
as we climbed the rain became snow
when we got to the trailhead of the Sourdough Trail there were quarter size snow flakes gently falling to the earth
I was not sure what to do...
when I turned to ask this friend from college if she still wanted to ride I saw that she had more gear in her bag
she had come prepared for what the mountains had to offer
she pulled tights over her shorts and a shell over her jersey
she left the fingerless gloves in her bag and put on some full finger gloves
I suited up as well and we hit the trail
the specifics are a blur...
we were both on Cannondales with rigid forks
more than likely thumb shifters that barely shifted and brakes that did not do much to stop the bike
I do recall that we hammered
while we rode the rocky technical terrain of this trail the snow fell
being young I ran the same routine with her that I did with other friends who were slower than me
I rode my pace... while she rode her's
turning back every mile or so after I got a little bit ahead
each time I was shocked at how close behind me
SHE WAS ROCKING IT!
and it was rocky
or so I recall
I am still not sure what to do with my life
I am still doing what feels comfortable
this post was weak
I failed to do that story any justice
it was not so much the absence of ten cent adjectives and fifteen cent adverbs
it was more a matter of the absence of content
a mixture of the years past and the incriminating nature of words I did not go into the increased respect and increased attraction created by seeing this friend hammer on the bike displaying that mountain bike spirit
it was also really cool to experience the splendor of a mountain's ability to express several seasons in the course of an afternoon