It's Not A Tumor

Sully can impersonate this pretty well.

I haven't been feeling like myself lately. And when I say lately I mean the past 10 months. I haven't been wanting to post until I figured out what it was because it seemed like we were close but since ruling out a brain tumor we're back to square one.

Look at that healthy brain!

Initially I thought I was just recovering from Leadville, and then things at worked changed and then I was studying for the GRE and then I was taking the GRE and then I was moving and then I was switching jobs and then I was starting to up my training and then I was trying to race and then I knew something was off. Not terribly off  just not right, but off enough. I saw a doctor who chalked it up to just "paying the price of being on birth control" when I mentioned that might part of
the issue. Yah, uhh okay. I went and saw my doctor, the one who navigated everything with my brain injury and told her everything. She ran all the tests she could and then some. I apparently have an abnormally high amount of a hormone that can lead to issues later on and cause some problems now (biggest one, fatigue) the number one cause for most is a tumor pushing on the pituitary gland. I had to get a Brain MRI to rule out a tumor, which I did and then they did. Which puts up back to mostly square one and off to see an endocrinologist.

Not that it's really super significant to write about my medical life but a little because well mostly it has been impacting my riding. As a result I seem to end up more on my Remedy or my single speed cross bike because well it's a little depressing to get on my race bike and feel like I'm out for a Sunday stroll. I feel like I'm missing that next gear, to kick it in and go.

My current nemesis

It hasn't been awful, there are certainly more dreadful things I could be facing. I've gotten a little better at riding my Green Machine (remedy) and have found a new focus after Leadville. There is a technical trail outside of town that has a technical rock section. I can occasionally clear the whole section going down (except a left turn off a rock at the top, I can't turn left!) if I haven't bonked or started crying. But there is a huge rock that I cannot get up. I like riding with Sully I do, I really do, he has lots of skills so he can pick a line and go and he makes it, with flat pedals or clipped in. I on the other hand have been working and reworking lines to try and muscle up all my strength to get up and over. The past two times were actually progress. Our last time Sully and I must have spent good 15 minutes of the ride up on this one particular section. We talked lines and I tried different routes when finally the stars aligned and I was able to ride up onto the rock slab take the line that sent me onto a little rock that made the lift to the big rock shorter than other places. That's all I did was get my front wheel on the big rock and without much more momentum to carry me I stopped. It was a step though, and the building block I need to keep going with it.

Since then I have ridden it by myself only to rework and reride the line multiple times only lifting my front wheel onto the larger rock but never having that kick to really get up. But it's progress. As as result I haven't thought much of the other sections and when I conquer this I will be like a kid who only has once magic trick and when asked to see more try to convience the person that the one I have is so amazing I don't need anything else. I'll cross that bridge at some point though.

And occasionally this still happens....

I turn 25 this weekend, which I'm not super stoked on. Mainly because it only means one more year on my parent's health insurance. I also have the Firecracker 50 and SilverRush 50 coming up in the next three weeks. I was hoping to do the Firecracker as a team (each person does one 25 mile lap) but haven't locked down a partner and I'm don't feel super confident on my long distance riding abilities right now to really try to track down a teammate when I might completely bonk. If your interested though, let me know. One requirement: no expectations.  Even the SilverRush is up in the air at this point.

Hey! Remember Me?!?

I know it's been a while since I've posted. And it's not that I haven't been doing things, I just haven't been writing. Instead of boring you with an absurdly long post that catches you up here it is in mostly pictures.

After the Whiskey 50 I spent some time on my bike and some time off of it.

Wayne and I went to Omaha for Frank's law school graduation.

This is how the trip started out, until my car broke down with a bad pulley on the serpentine belt....Luckily the car dealer we took it to conveniently rented cars. Which immediately axed Wayne's idea of hitch hiking and instead we got to roll into Omaha in style.

 

The Silver Bullet

We made it to his hooding ceremony just in time for them to start the "M" last names. But considering we changed in the/outside the car I think we cleaned up pretty well.

Then we got to see him graduate!

After that it was back to Boulder and more riding. Sully and I did Buffalo Creek on a day off. It ended up being an amazingly good loop.

  At least until the rain hit, and hit it did, immediately filling every crease on the trail with water. We scampered to put on our rain jackets and simultaneously saw lightning strike about 200 yards away while the thunder clapped overhead. As if worrying about getting struck by lightning wasn't bad enough as we were descending the rain changed to tiny hail pellets. It felt like the sticks of 100 needles and I soon straightened my legs to try and give them some protection. It was a fruitless effort, by the time we reached the car it looked like I had been infected with chicken pox again.

 

Don't worry it was still there the next day too. 

I did the Beti Bike Bash, I felt I should. It's a women's only race/event and our shop was a sponsor. Given that I was the only girl in all three shops I felt that I should be representing. I wasn't sure how it was going to go as 1.)  I had been dry heaving/coughing up mucus for the past week and 2.) I also wasn't quiet sure how to race 12 miles (I've only ever done 20 minutes short track or 50 miles plus races).

 I surprised myself by getting the hole shot  

(probably because I forgot that it was longer than 20 minutes and started sprinting)

only choking on my mucus once and then throwing it up (pretty impressive I can stay up right on a bike for that, huh) 

 and even ended up getting on the podium. Don't worry, there were more than 3 people in the category. 

Barb even came down for it and crushed it in her category as well and then hung around to cheer for me!

Barb and I after the race!

I did some cross rides, some technical rides, some long rides, some that took me on the steepest paved road in Colorado with grades close to 25% and some leisurely rides. 

#enduro

That's really the short and sweet version of it. More to come and in more of a timely fashion.

DNF: Dumb Numb Fingers

"I got room for one more!" I heard a man shout. "Me! I'll go, please sir!" I frantically began searching for my bike. He must have realized what I was looking for and said "I can take you but not your bike." Survival instincts kicked in and the next thing I knew I was clamoring into a truck and being whisked away. While my bike laid forsaken at mile 13.7 of the Whiskey 50.
 

This is how I thought most of the day would go

That morning had started like any other race morning, oatmeal, coffee, debating what to wear and a weather report. When Sully saw the report he said, "well at least it will be an epic ride." A spoof on the company who runs the race, Epic Rides. The weather called for temperatures in the low 40s, with high winds and precipitation. Guess I'm wearing knickers. The precipitation called for .02 inches of rain. Okay, it'll just be the high wind that we'll have to deal with. We gathered all our gear and as we stepped outside realized we'd be getting more than .02 inches, as it was already raining and the ground seemed pretty saturated. Great, but still the rain isn't awful, or a deal breaker. As Barb says, "It's a pleasure to ride in the rain." Mainly because in South Dakota we didn't have to deal with it a whole lot. It wasn't suppose to get terribly cold, sure the descents might be a little cold, but I had a base layer, jersey, arm warmers and a jacket so I thought I could hang. 

Right before the gun went off a guy came by handing out Nitrile Gloves, which I immediately pounced on to go over my gloves. The rain had picked up but once we started moving it wasn't

Sully taking off

terrible. Okay, I can do this. It was about 4 miles on the road, which Sully passed me on. At first I thought it was some jerk trying to squeeze by me but when I heard his distinctive voice checking in on me, all my tension to run this uy off the road went away. I told him I was fine and he kept going. I was fine, but was starting to get a little cold, the rain hadn't let up and we were beginning the climb up onto double track. Followed soon by single track. The single track had a lot of stop and go traffic, which meant slowing my pace and even sometimes getting off the bike to wait. My hands kept getting colder, I remembered once to drink something but that was about the only time I could muster it. I kept trudging along, higher into the climb and further from any chance of warmth. I saw a lot of people just stop and start hiking down the hill, but knew I would be in no condition to make it back on my own so kept going. My hands were getting the worst of it now, I was trying to muster all the courage I had to remain positive. This will be over soon, your hands will get better, keep moving your fingers, keep moving. I saw a group of people cheering on the side as I came by. "How...how far until the next aid station?" My voice cracked. "Six miles, do you need something?" I somberly said, "No." 

At this point I couldn't feel my fingers any more as the rain had quickly changed to sleet and then hail and then finally snow. With every foot of climbing it seemed to get colder. I was mostly protected by the trees and shrubbery but at the top of the climb the ridge open up and the wind reared its ugly head sending snow everywhere and sending shivers

Taken from the Daily Courier in Prescott, AZ

down my spine. I wanted to turn around so bad, but heeded the advice of my Godfather, "how will this look on the accident report?" something he always reminds me. I figured not too good. "Girl racing Whiskey 50 gets so cold wanders off into the forest. Found 7 hours later. Loses 4 toes and a finger to frostbite." I know a random number of digits but it happened to a girl I went to college with. It was mainly the fact that I wouldn't be able to wear flip flops with 4 toes missing that kept me going. 

I couldn't shift, or had stopped trying but was stuck in a relatively easy gear so it wasn't the worst thing. Braking was a bit more questionable as I could but had to constantly check that my fingers were engaging with the levers. My fingers would slide off and I wouldn't realize it at all until I started rapidly accelerating downhill (not great). 

After the exposure on the ridge what should have been a fairly quickly descent turned into agonizing pain. My whole body was shaking, trying mercifully to get any heat. I soon saw a make-shift tent in the distance which gave me an ounce of hope, just make it there. I did but it didn't seem to warrant an actual stop, trudging by I heard someone say, "aid station is about 2 miles down, they are halting the race there." Halting the race? How does that work? Has Sully been waiting for me there?  Two miles, that's all I had to make it. 

More descending followed by more not braking. I had one foot out all the time now to drag just in case. I got off my bike to walk a section as it didn't seem like the best idea to go down a bunch of rocks with limited braking ability. It flowed into a turn which had enough area that I put my bike down to try and get any heat back to my hands. Three guys must have realized what shape I was in and parked their bikes and huddled around me to give me warmth. "Move your shoulders, get the blood flowing back to your hands. They continued making small talk but I was more focused on getting blood back to my fingers that I'm not sure what else they said. I started making my way down the hill

Like Hot Tea, a shower and dry clothes :D

behind them. They were soon far in front of me. I couldn't get there fast enough but I was too cold to care. Around a bend and down I could see a group of people huddling together. It felt like Christmas morning- Oh, I'm so close!! I made it to the bottom where I could see people were huddling around a fire pit. I dropped my bike and tears starting welling in my eyes as I was so relieved to be there. People parted as I walked up allowing me to get close to the fire. I started to try and take off my gloves and by that I mean hold them out in front of me and look at them while contemplating how to move my fingers. A man standing next to me must have realized my struggle and pulled both pairs off for me so I could get the warmth directly to them. "It's going to hurt." He was right, as the blood started flowing back the agony of pain was cumbersome. After a few minutes I started to wander out, searching for anyone who could give me information on the race, if it was halted, or they were re-routing us. That's when the man yelled he had room in his truck. 

It was my first DNF, around mile 7 I knew it would be. It was hard for my ego to swallow initially, as I once ran a marathon with no training to avoid a DNF. I knew how stupid it would be for me to continue and at the pace I had been going was nowhere on track to finish close to where I wanted to. I had been out there for 2+ hours taking in no food or water, once my hands were frozen it was game over. I was able to get back to the start and put dry clothes on which helped but it was about 4 hours before my hands felt relatively normal again*. Sully finished the race on his singlespeed because he's pretty incredible.
 

I didn't beat Sully like I had hoped but I'll be back with a vengeance!

It certainly wasn't the finish or race that I was expecting. But it's hard to be upset at the way it ended because it wasn't with a traumatic brain injury so I can cheer to that. 

I'll drink to no TBI

 *In case you were worried I was able to find my bike with relatively easiness. I'm sure the race company wasn't expecting that weather to happen as well but they did a great job of getting people off the course and taking care of them.

 

Meet The Parents

 I have trust issues, and it's not from finding fake snakes in my bed when I was a child. After I took a tumble off my Rocky I took it in to have it looked at. The stem and headset were loose which may or may not have contributed to me eating dirt the other day. I trust all them mechanics who work on it and one mentioned the bearings could have settled which caused the headset to go loose. It's been touch and go and I'm much more cautious on it now. With the Whiskey 50 this Saturday it's not the best predicament to be in. 
 

I know, the best.

Oh heyyyy!

I took a break from that bike this past weekend when I went up to my parents in South Dakota and brought my road bike. The first day I was there I headed up north to meet some friends but figured I would work some riding into it. I stopped by a shop to see where decent riding was as I wasn't familiar with that area on bike. They told me about a hill climb that starts right away and seemed to have gone on for miles. They weren't kidding when they said it started right away. Unfortunately it didn't last as long as I thought, 14 minutes, but I did stop by Dinosaur Park, made a couple of laps up and down and called it good. 

 

The next day I headed out on one of my go to rides. Unfortunately it's calving season for the

He's just a little guy!!

buffalo which means my mom is extra nervous. "If you see a baby on one side and the herd on the other, turn around don't try to mess with them." Okay, okay and gave her an estimate of when I would be back, but tacked on an extra half-hour for good measure. I lust for this route when I'm in Boulder with having to navigate traffic and never really feeling that far away (which is probably why I'm drawn to mountain biking more). Every time I ride up there though I can't help but yearn for trails outside of my parent's back door (maybe not that close). Especially when I'm wrestling with the internal dilemnia of riding vs. walking over all the cattle guards. Walking across possesses its own risks, my shoe falling off the ever so thin rail and jamming my leg down (a fear since I was a child), however riding can be impossible as well, if you don't carry enough speed through, the spaces are just far enough apart that I usually ride off feeling like a shaken baby. The ride finished with ample amount of climbing and me clamoring into the back of my sister's jeep as she came and got me when I finally lost the battle with the wind and didn't feel like getting gusted around like a Raggedy Ann Doll. 

 

And I got to see my favorite dog!

I probably should have been on my mountain bike, but figured if I was up there I would end up mostly on a road or gravel so it would have been a frivolous and frustrating undertaking. It was good to get some miles in while I was there because Sully and I are doing the Whiskey 50 this Saturday(!!!) in Prescott, AZ. I'm mildly worried because it seems to have snuck up on me and I don't feel that I'm in super great riding shape yet and I might embarrass myself by forgetting to ride a bike. But I survived meeting his parents so I can probably survive 50 miles on a mountain bike....

Third Time's The Charm

The first ride on my Rocky wasn't as spectacular as I had imagined, no fireworks. I might have missed them because I was going so fast. I rode in from my house to the shop with only boat shoes on the smallest amount of pedals, and on a men's saddle which really makes the 1.8 miles all that more impressive. 

So Fast!

Sully wanted to do a night ride and since my day off (when I was planning on riding) was two days away, it would be a good chance to ride it and then tweak anything that might need tweaking before I headed out on a longer one. Unfortunately some things at work kept me past the departure time and I didn't feel like playing catch up in the blusterous wind that had awoken. I was able to switch the saddle to a women's specific one which made the ride home so much more enjoyable. 

I knew where I wanted to ride before I consciously knew I did. I decided to ride up Sunshine Canyon to Poorman down to 4mile and then back up to Betasso, do a few laps and then home. It would touch on everything, pavement, gravel, climbing, descending, and singletrack. It's definitely my go to ride

Isn't he a peach!?!

and I seem to end up there more than I should. The ride was pretty uneventful. After raising my seat a few centimeters a block from the house I didn't get off the bike again. The geometry is certainly different from my Superfly and I'm still working through it.

The second ride was about as eventful as the first, I went up a mountain and came down. The third, that's where the bonding really began. I had to get a hitch installed on my car (the things that happen when you finally get a boyfriend who rides bikes....) and figured I would loop a few trails together in

Not the smooth morning cup of coffee trail....

the area. I went up the Argos trail on the Apex system, my aim was a mythical neighborhood that would take me over to another trail system. The trail was much looser and choppier than I remembered (but there was a head injury in between rides so you can't expect much) and not much of my cup of tea. Probably better for the full suspension, but I needed more time on my hardtail as the Whiskey 50 Race is two weeks away (eek!). I knew the other trail would be better so after a few directions at trail forks and my trusty iPhone map to get me through the neighbor I found the trail. Well more of a campsite and I just hoped for the best. I did link up to it and started the descent. I ran into my boss halfway down and about mile or two from where I was going to turn around, he told me to come ride back up with him. It's certainly nice that everyone above me is still riding and immersed in all things bikes. I turned back up behind him and climbed a portion with him. Some techy sections I got, others not so much where I would hop off the bike and run behind him, since he was still talking. 

We split a couple miles up and I continued climbing, he turned back down. I got back through the neighborhood area and then back on the initial trail. Descending felt awkward and irregular, like something wasn't right, but couldn't quiet figure it out and had to get down the hill anyways.

#bruiseeasily

What happened next was the most chaotic crash of my life and it started with the thought...huh, maybe I should have walked this one. The rock that I had headed down had just enough of a kick that I launched forward off my bike. I'm finding that I like the crashes I remember more than the one I
don't (don't worry mom, there is only one I don't remember). There is something surreal and mosaic about being suspending in the air with all your senses heightened, ready, for what is coming next. With that I landed with a thud, and slid down a bit, I had a moment to lie there and assess the damage, but only a moment until my bike came chasing after me and landed with a thwack on

Good thing my roomie is an acupuncturist!

top of me. Insult to injury at it's finest. At first I thought that I had gotten the wind knocked out of me, because I was having a hard time breathing but then realized the bike had shifted my camelbak and since I ride with my hose running across my upper chest was now being chocked out by my bike with my camelbak hose. I don't even know how these things are even possible! I got up dusted myself off and with more trepidation than before began my descent, again.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

I've been bonking on recent rides lately. I'm hoping that most of it is with it being early in the season I don't realize that after three hours it might be a good idea to eat. Bonking tends to exemplify the worst qualities, physically and mentally. I'm trying not to make a habit of it. 

On my more recent bonks I've realized my upper body is still pretty weak, I had to take a break mid-14 mile descent when after putting so much tension on the breaks my upper body became immensely exhausted and needed to get off the bike and shake my arms out. Embarrassing, I know. I am up to 10 consecutive push-ups (without being on my knees) so I have that going for me. You can laugh, Wayne and Sully do. I've also realized that I'm bemoaning that Leadville is over. I knew it was going to happen, but that doesn't seem to be making it any easier.

Not doing Leadville is a bit of a relief and certainly nice but still a weird and foreign feeling, being the first time in three years that I'm not all consumed by Leadville. Only more lament by the fact that I just got a new bike, not for Leadville. Leadville is why I made the jump into mountain biking. It has been with me the entire time. It brought me to some amazing places, had me meet some equally amazing people (the people that save me from the side of the road when I got a traumatic brain injury, other riders who have crazy inspiring stories) and it have given me new opportunities and now it's over. I definitely made the choice not to do it. Last year, when I place in the SilverRush I was offered a spot in Leadville, which I could of deferred until this season. I could have put in for the lottery too. I knew that it was going to be time to take a break and do something else, as that's all I did for 18 months. I'm not done racing and Leadville isn't on the Never-Ever-Again Table but for this season it's done. I do have three 50-milers on my radar for this summer, but they are not all consuming and never at times feel overwhelming, thinking what have I gotten into. 

It helps that Sully is doing some of the races as I am. We don't do all our rides together but we do talk about them. He keeps telling me we only ride our bikes for fun but then I seem to add the disclaimer, but I want to be fast too...and maybe not embarrass myself when I get to the starting line. 

 I'm currently down in South Carolina. Mary Clair is here for her spring break visiting our Grandma Clara and figured it would be the perfect opportunity to take a few days off the bike and come down as well.

Grandmas are the best!

Once I'm back I'm planning on finally jumping on my new bike and will probably even start juicing. Sully mentioned that I seemed almost scared to get on my new bike and ride it but I think I'm just hesitant to start a new chapter.

 

First World Problems

I think Charles Dickens said it best, "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." That seemed to be the theme for Moab. At least it was the worst until I realized I was being a giant brat. 

On Tuesday, Sully and I figured out we had the same days off that week, last minute schedule change on my part. I told him he could go skiing one day and then we could go riding together on the other day. He paused, "I could....or we could go to Moab!" The seed was planted. I told him I'd have to think about it but I knew we would end up going. We set out Wednesday night after work and made it to Fruita, we debated pushing on to Moab, but figured we'd be zombies the next day if we did. We were up and off for coffee before 9, which put us into Moab around 11, plenty of time to ride. We got a hold of a friend who had already been riding for a few days to see if he wanted to meet up. Ohhh this is perfect! We can shuttle Porcupine Rim and not have to ride our bikes up that atrocious road. Porcupine Rim is part of the Whole Enchilada ride, a 27 mile trail with 7,000 feet of descending landing on many top places to ride lists. Copious amounts of fun, especially if you don't have to ride up it. It was really the only trail I wanted to ride. Partly because when I rode it with Wayne last year it was my 3rd time on a full suspension (one which I had rented) and wanted to see what my progress was (don't worry Wayne, I'm sure I still wouldn't have cleared as much as you did on your 29er hardtail...). Sully talked our friend into riding it with us so we could shuttle it.

We met our friend at a bike shop (he had melted his riding shoes by the fire the night before and clearly didn't realize Sully would be bringing 3 pairs). I would drive my car up with all the bikes and gear. They loaded it up with his gear while I bought some food to eat while riding. Sully said he was going to go put air in my car tires, because one was looking low. I didn't really think much of it, and then we took off.

We drove up the janky road that I prayed no one would come down on because it was a nice little drop of to the side and my fear of heights wasn't exactly helping. We parked off on a side road that was a camp area, as close as to the top as we could get. We started unloading gear when our friend mentioned that he thought my tire was leaking air (NOOO!). The ground we had parked on was pretty muddy, but maybe if we moved it to drier ground it will be easier to change a flat after riding. That was a really nice thought, but then we played it out logistically and letting it go flat on the top of this god-forsaken-area was not the best plan, even if I do have AAA. Sully offered to drive it down, but told him I would. He offered to come with but I told him it was silly for both of us to miss the trail. I loaded my gear back up and drove down to find a tire place. 

I found one, parked and went in. The guy behind the counter told me to pull into the garage, which was a large door, but I was apprehensive that I would be able to leave my bike on the top of the car, but the guy said it would be okay. I start driving in and looking up at the bike through the sun roof and then looking at him waving me in, when not a moment too soon he throws up his hand in a stop sign and gets a sour look on his face. I jump out and not an inch to spare! I asked him if he wanted to take my bike off but he said he would push the door up. Oh man that's just what I need. 

It took all of about 5 minutes to get the car fixed an back on my way. By then it was far too late to try and play catch up to the boys. I drove back up to Slickrock, as it was the closest trail that I knew of and would put me at the same time finishing as the guys. To say that it sucked not getting to ride with them is an understatement. Sully sent me a text as I was just getting to ride, "stay relaxed and don't worry about not making all the climbs. It is a very different trail than any other trails we ride." Oh great this is just what I need to get into today. He was right though, the trail was unlike anything else I've ever ridden. It's all rock, with nothing else. The first couple of corners and descents were pretty sketchy as I kept thinking my tires were going to slide out underneath me and I'd skid into my own rendition of 127 hours. On one of the first climbs I realized I wasn't going to make it up and bailed, unfortunately, if I've learned anything in Moab it is that mountain bike shoes have no business trying to get traction on rock. It was a pretty quick remembrance, before I could even react my shoes slid out and I landed with a "thwack" on the rock. It was enough force to splice my elbow and wrist open. I started crying (sorry,  not sorry). I seem to have an artistry for not whimper crying but more immediate with all the breath in my body escaping that turns into my dog just died, sobbing. (Don't worry, this type happens for all crying events-like watching Chasing Mavericks.)

Oh look, just in time for me to get over it.

 It didn't take my long to realize just how much of a brat I was being. "Oh I didn't get to ride my favorite trail in Moab, because my car needed fixing. So now I have to ride this other highly rated trail" "Oh, I drove 7 hours to ride by myself." Yeah, those are first world problems if I've ever heard one. I got up, picked up my bike and clamored up the rest of the hill. It was almost in that moment of how selfish I was being I was able to "cry a river, build a bridge and get over it." Literally. 

The rest of the ride was fine, it was a pretty different trail, but mostly for how much you stuck to the rock. The views didn't hurt either. I ended up going the opposite of the recommended way for riding the loop but I could never quiet figure out why that was. There was only one steep rock that I had to climb up,

 but I probably would have walked down it going the other way as well. I still wasn't fully confident I wouldn't fall off.

I finished shortly after the guys and met them back at the shop. We talked quickly about the rides and then the other guy headed out. Sully felt really bad about riding without me but it's not like I  let him come with me, and it's not like I was going to let him head down by himself. I told him that it was probably for the best as the guy he was riding with is more on par with Sully's level of riding and I figured I would have pushed to keep up and wound up getting hurt. Sully made it up to me later when he let me buy the variety pack of Fruit Gushers, Fruit Roll-ups, and Fruit-by-the-foot!!

Perfect mid-ride snack!

The next morning we drove to trails north of town, The Sovereign Trails, which Sully was wanting to ride. I wasn't sure what to expect but he told me he thought I would like them.

The trail had a good sampling of everything, fast singletack, technical sections, stiff climbs, sand pits, and steep drops, and of course plenty of insanely captivating views. It was enough to push me to my comfort level, I was able to clear most of it without too much trouble and told Sully that trail helped me feel more confident in my riding abilities. It was the perfect ride to counteract the warped day before.