Sunday afternoon Kev, Steve and I headed off for a quick warm up ride before calamity Pat arrived. Little did we know that Pat would leave most of his calamities at home(except for his penchant for taking trail dumps). Kev picked up a sweet rental bike and we were off. The trail started with about 3 miles of gentle climbing on fire road. We then veered to the left and hit a relentless patch of sand. The 29'er Steve was on seemed to cut through the sand the best, or was it because Steve lacked the mass necessary to sink in the stuff? Clearly, Kev and I sank like rocks(probably due to our massive biceps and quads). Some sweet slickrock and moderately technical climbing followed, culminating in a sweet view at the top.
The descent was without incident, until the final 3 miles of fire road were "chinese downhilled"! Kev, in the wake of crashing his new car, wisely sat this one out. Steve and I raced to the death, and for the first time in my life, I drafted off of someone while mountain biking. Steve, ultimately, was no match for "Mota Morton" as I raced like mad for about 10 minutes longer than I needed too. The win rang hollow, as I realized I had won nothing other than a case of very sore legs.
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