Best Tacos

It was just Chad and I, and our will to ride all things techy and stupid.

Temperatures were a moderate 92 degrees. Headbreezes hailed the incoming weather, an approximation of “cool.” This definitely improved our odds.

I cracked the final piece of the Ram Canyon climb — it has all been done now, but never and I mean NEVER, in one go. There’s so much going on out there, I love it. I say I cracked it, but it was a pile of slop luck. I ended up on a completely different line than I intended, but my pedals were in the right place, and traction held, so I went with it.

I was not so lucky with the slickrock pitch Chad is muscling up in the shot above. He nailed it on the first try, I flailed and failed. Attempts 5 and 6 got weaker and weaker, so I moved on. Stumped.

Despite 3 mph descending, 0.003 mph turns, and all manners of sharp things lining the trail, this trail FLOWS like you wouldn’t believe. It’s a wholly different style of riding, and I can’t quite yet put my finger on it. Fine by me. I’ll just have to keep riding it until I ‘get’ it.

Chad was railing the transition from Ram to Alamo, a trail he is getting to know well. I couldn’t stay with him until he started fumbling around on a minor rocky climb. Sounds effects of the yeeoow-I’m-going-off-line-and-sliding kind escalated into a full on “14-year-old-girl-at-the-horror-movies-scream”. People talk about that kind of scream, but this was the most authentic one I’ve heard, and I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I knew the reason. He was dangerously close to a baby rattlesnake!

We gave it a wide berth and continued our rally. Other sightings included a desert tortoise and a gila monster.

We flashed down Alamo in the gorgeous waning light. I can’t get down that trail without chuckling several times. No matter how much you think you’re going to stay on line, you better be ready to be shoved and slid into the line that the rocks want you to take. If you’re ready for it, it’s quite the sensation.

It was actually Tuesday this time, so we filled the void in our stomachs with $1.25 fish tacos. Thanks for the great ride, Chad.

I’m off to Colorado yet again, so this will be my last taco ride for a couple weeks. Paula is getting a tear in her hip fixed by a surgeon in Vail, CO, and it looks like I should be able to race the Crested Butte Classic (100 miler) on the way up.