4/23/04 – Arrived mid-day with just enough time to ride the climb challenges of the shoreline trail (Salt Lake foothills). The featured event was Hero Hill, so Brian and I headed there first. I was wondering a bit whether I would complete the feat (cleaning the climb with no dabs), since my legs were tired from yesterday’s Agua Caliente workout and travel. It appears my fitness is much higher than last summer, because my lungs did not explode, nor did my legs hint at failing me. It was still difficult, and the relentless grade is incredible–a completely different world from the trails of Tucson. How I ever cleaned this climb as a 15 year old on a crappy bike is something I will wonder for the rest of my life. Brian also completed the summit bid with no dabs, all the more impressive considering that he hasn’t ridden for 2 months (brutal winter in SLC this year).
The next arena was ‘the Living Room.’ Though I knew I had the strength to ride it, I was uncertain of a few of the lines and less sure that the pieces of luck would fall together for me. I started off well on the rock waterfall, then rode calmly up the rutted, steep trail. My memory failed me in a few places, but I was able to improvise and power my way through to the top of the Kamikaze downhill.
Now I knew that I was in trouble. This is the key section, the one that once finally broken, led to the clean ascent of the living room in total. The leadup is very loose, and I tried to find the right line with whatever free time I could spare my eyes, otherwise firmly fixed on the terrain immediately in front of me. I had plenty of power but in the end improvised poorly. I saw a line after it was too late. My foot unclipped and found its way to the dirt.
I watched Brian reach the top of the Kamikaze, rest for a moment, then attack the section. He knew the line and cleaned it like a pro. Unfortunately he had not cleaned all of the lower sections.
We continued on, where the trail was a bit more familiar, but seemed more difficult than in the past. The final approach to ‘the Room’ was before me. After a flat but extremely rocky traverse I gathered as much momentum as I could to spin up the final sandy and rock strewn pitch. Somehow I made it through and was rewarded with a spectacular view and a nice rock slab to relax on.
Another clean ascent of the Living Room remains elusive. Perhaps another day. We got a radio call from my Dad, who started up the Living Room climb to meet us coming down.
From there it was over to the switchbacks of the $20 climb. Both Brian and I should have cleaned it, and both of us failed in the same place–the last difficult section before you are free to ride it out. It was unsatisfying, but we moved on.
Next were the switchbacks into Red Butte, then the Tucson style super rocky descent into the canyon. The SLC trails are so devoid of rocks (compared to Tucson) that I always underestimate how rocky this descent is. With a little muscle I was able to squeak the downhill out. We crossed the raging creek then headed up to the north side of the canyon for some more fun. A couple of lonely but huge red tulips were growing at the foot of the climb.
Speaking of which, spring time in Salt Lake is very beautiful. It has been over 4 years since I’ve seen an SLC spring. My visits have either been white winter or brown summer until now. The mountains were green and sometimes bursting with wild flowers. The trails were fresh, and it reminded me of the long winters I spent in Salt Lake, eagerly waiting the melting of the snow and the return of mountain biking. That’s pretty much why I moved. But the return to shoreline and mountain biking was always glorious indeed, usually consisting of blowing myself out on climb challenges that my legs and body were not ready for. That’s pretty much what we did today, so maybe nothing has changed.
It was also great to ride with my Dad. He has no problem keeping up with us. He thought it was going to be muddy so he broke out his old ‘mud bike’ proflex 4000, which is despite being a mud bike is cleaner than any of my bikes could ever dream of. As usual he big talked the mud content–there were only a few minor sections to be found anywhere on the mountain.
We rolled through the normal ‘shoreline’ trail to get back home. It’s hilarious how fast I use to ride these trails: incredibly fast, and always that way. I did not learn how to ride slow until well after I moved to Tucson and started doing 6,7,8,8,10 hour rides. The feeling got the best of me at the end of the ride as I stood to hammer up the hill behind the zoo. It felt good.
4/24/04 – Inaugural Salt Lake Marathon
I dropped Paula off at the ‘olympic legacy bridge’ at 6am, then headed back to home to hop on Brian’s bike. I made it up to Foothill drive just in time to see the lead runners followed closely by Paula. I said goodbye to my parents, then sped off through the city to pop back on the course on 21st south. Here I hopped on the course, following behind Paula through sugar house park, then south towards Holliday. She was looking strong, smiling, and even laughing with the two guys she was running with. She was in 7th place overall.
It was a perfect morning–pleasantly cool, clear skies and fresh air. I enjoyed rolling through the streets of my hometown on one of my old road bike routes. Spectators were all over the place, some even cheering me on in jest. I smiled and laughed along.
My grandma came out to watch the race, which was awesome. She was so excited to see Paula run. I heard over the radio from my mom that they were going to try and see her further down the course, so I figured they must have missed her earlier. But actually my Grandma was just excited and wanted to keep watching. I thought she would just see her once then head back home.
As the race went on I kept running into my mom, dad and grandma driving the course and stopping to watch. It was kind of funny that we ended up on the same side streets and shortcuts. Around van winkle I realized that I did not have the means for fixing a flat (a spare but no pump) since Bri had not yet shown up. I shortcut a bit more of the course and started heading back towards downtown. As I followed Paula, still running strong down tree lined 5th east I saw Bri riding the other way. We joined up and enjoyed the ride in, amazed at how far she was ahead of the nearest runner behind her. She had been passed by only one other woman and was now in 8th place. We rode through Liberty Park with Paula visibly showing some fatigue, but still headed for a great time and finish. Around this point she asked us to back off, preferring to suffer alone. We cut through side streets, saw her for a second near main, then decided to simply head for the finish line.
We made our way through crowds of people at the finish. As the finish line came into view I caught Paula crossing the line and, true to form, being caught from falling by the race staff. Although she slowed and hurt considerably at the end, she hung on for a solid finish, especially considering her lack of recovery time from the last marathon.
The finish line was a veritable family reunion with people from all sides of our family there to support her. It was very nice of everyone to come out. We talked a bit, but everyone was a tired and ready to head for some rest. We all parted, with me setting out on bike. I rode through downtown, and could not resist the left turn into Memory Grove. For some reason I’ve always like the city to trail interface–how quickly you can be riding a quality trail just outside of downtown.
So it was. Despite my now severely drained legs, I climbed out of City Creek canyon back into the foothills of the Wasatch. It was a great climb, but soon my stomach was grumbling. The Carb-boom in my camelback saved my bacon and kept a bonk at bay for the duration of the climb. I somewhat forgot the topography of the trail, and found myself at the top of Dry Creek sooner than I expected. People on bikes and with dogs were everywhere! It some sense it was nice to see so many people out enjoying a beautiful day, but I was also glad that this isn’t my regular ride–far too crowded. By the bottom of dry creek a solid bonk was setting in. But I refused to acknowledge it and kept the pace high through to the end of the trail. Just like old times. I stood to hammer once again on the hill above the Zoo, but found my legs without the strength that was there the day before. In the last minutes of the ride the bonk really set in. But massive quantities of good food awaited me at home.
After some refueling we headed to Stakels for some badminton and dynamite in the gym. I was playing out of my head, winning with Lisa, my Dad and Bri on my team (we completed the rotation). It was some of the best badminton play I have seen from myself in years, and I’m not really sure why. Then luck supreme continued when I nailed (swish) the famed slurpee shot (standing and shooting backwards from the blue line) on the first try. Not since, say, 1994 with Billy Dupaix’s shot has anyone made the shot on the first try (which is the only one that counts). It goes without saying that we all had a blast, but perhaps me especially.
We waited around for the awards ceremony, and after setting them straight on the results (the inhospitable elite coordinator had messed up Paula’s number and chip) they awarded her 8th place in a very competetive race, plus enough cash to pay for the trip.
4/25/04 – Rest
Up late, then a day of visiting and big talking. At my Grandma’s house we saw all sorts of people that we haven’t seen for years. It was very nice. Then, back to Tucson.
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