Photo by Paula Stout Tracks editor giving directions, encouragement and inspiration at this year’s Coronado’s Challenge. 40 riders braved the mist to compete on the new course, for the 4-hour endurance event.

Slip slidin’ my way to where I used to be
By TS Legends~ Tracks Publishing Editor

The ground outside is covered with frozen precipitation. A thick, round, icy coating covers everything from plants and trees to the plastic porch furniture I never got around to putting away last fall. The drive out front has a smooth, slightly tilted frozen surface. Kind of like a calm lake stopped in mid-roll. A regular Hallmark card picture of a winter wonderland. Unfortunately, that was not how I saw it.

At the top of my porch steps, I saw it as a quick flash of white, darker shades and some twinkling lights as I crashed to the ground. My slightly slanted, slightly wet, wooden steps had turned into a greased pig of a trip to the frozen tundra below. As I lay on the ground, clutching an empty crock-pot that I was carrying out to the truck, I was not exactly thinking Hallmark thoughts.

Still on my back, with the plastic handle of the pot embedded between my ribs, visions of tall cactus, and miles of rocky desert trails danced in my head. The little birdies circling around were flying through shimmering 114 degree heat waves and everywhere the singletrack was hard firm and dry! I was thinking that it was about this time, this temperature, and this color last year when I moved to Arizona.

After dislodging the plastic handle and attached pot from my ribs, I gingerly stood up. I about crapped my pants when my feet did several of those cartoon skittering routines before planting firmly enough to support my weight. “Stupid slippery top step, stupid slippery, hard, damn ground. Why the heck did I ever move back to this god-forsaken place?”

Once the pain in my ribs subsided, I found the crock-pot lid that had skidded across the drive like a well-hit hockey puck and I remembered why I returned to this land of temperamental temperatures and sometimes-despicable trail conditions. I returned because life, and mountain biking is not just about miles of pristine trails.

It is about adventure. It is about camaraderie. It is about stories. It is about the adventures, crashes, and stories we all share...
(continued inside the SpradTracks PDF)

(To read the rest of this and other stories, download the SpradTracks PDF - 1.6MB.)