I admit that I like to geek out on bikes and gear as much as the next gal. But there is beauty in simplicity and going back to your roots. In riding like you did when you were a kid. I’ll bet that you rode your first bikes on anything and everything, with a friend balanced on your handlebars. I invite you to take a chance and push your limits by riding the ‘wrong’ bike.
We followed tracks to see where they would lead with a general trending from the high desert to the mountains. Following in the hoof prints of the infamous “Outlaw Gang”, sometimes we were only on game trails that faded into tall grass.
Special note to my guy: Thanks babe for keeping it real and fun. Thanks for all the fires that keep us warm and for your patience when I’ve run out. Thanks for pushing your bike beside mine through all of those miles of soft snow on whatever harebrained scheme I’ve hatched.
You don’t need to be a poker player to organize this fun event for your community, but planning in advance really helps. Start with finding volunteers, because without them there will be no event. Friends who are passionate about fat biking and want to promote the sport and your local trails society are the best candidates.
While everyone was tucked in their beds dreaming of sugar plums dancing in their heads, Studd Pyles and I packed our bikes and rode to Frye Lake to camp under the stars and watch the sky for Santa and his reindeer. This post is about a very special Christmas Eve spent bikepacking in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming from Sinks Canyon State Park to Frye Lake.
In the middle of the pandemic, I found a rhythm to the summer. Following the phases of the moon my partner and I filled our weekends with beauty, peace and adventure. I don’t usually leave our uncrowded and beautiful state of Wyoming on purpose but we were surprised to find an undeveloped and peaceful corner of Colorado just south of the border.
Yesterday I rode my bike up a mountain. It wasn’t just any mountain. Mt. Evans is one of Colorado’s 14’ers – mountains that are over 14,000 feet in elevation. The road to the top of Mt. Evans happens to be the highest paved road in North America. I rode as high as a person can ride on the continent!
Why DO we do hard things? As I was pushing my bike up the steep road in the dark, I wondered “what do normal couples do for Friday night date-night?” (Cue Sara Jessica Parker’s Sex in the City voice.)
I want to ride the ride where the west commences, and gaze at the moon till I lose my senses. I can’t look at hobbles and I can’t stand fences. Don’t fence me in. – Roy Rogers
I thought I knew where I wanted to be but I ended up where I was supposed to be.
I’m know I’m not the only one navigating an endless maze of emotions lately. I’ll wake up happy to be healthy and alive only to be teary-eyed later in the day for no apparent reason.
I don’t mind being alone and most of the time I prefer it (except for a few select humans!) but I’m going to admit that I have felt lonely during the pandemic. And there’s no cure for loneliness like being in Mother Nature. On a whim I headed out to the Red Desert on a whim to hike the Oregon Buttes, something I’ve wanted to do for years.
My 15 year-old son said this post is “so cringy.” For almost a month I have been quarantined from everyone including my kids and my partner. It’s been hard. I miss hugs.
Who knew that the Togwotee Winter Classic would be the first and last last bike race of the Wyoming season? It was a phenomenal day: friends, laughter, sunshine, peace and beauty. And my first bike race post-cancer treatment!
Winter bikepacking was on my bucket list but I have no idea why. Camping in the cold doesn’t sound like fun to me. After all, camping is about relaxing in a hammock – not worrying about if my toes will freeze and fall off. But here I was, not only winter camping for the first time but doing it by bike.
The Loop Road is a 30 mile epic winter fat bike ride in the Lander, Wyoming area from South Pass to Sinks Canyon.
The Iron Horse Race was a bright spot in my summer and just what I needed before breast cancer treatment started. I wore my medal a lot – enough to embarrass my kids. I wore it to my lumpectomy the week after the race and I wore it sometimes around the house when I was scared. It was a reminder that with a little bit of faith and a whole lot of support from my tribe, I could dig deep and keep going the next mile.
Studd Pyles and I took advantage of an unseasonably warm November day to ride a section of the Pony Express/Oregon Trail from east of Willie’s Meadow to the Sweetwater River.
Lost Mine Tour by Fat BikeExploring Wyoming’s Gold Rush HistoryTour around South Pass City State Historic Site by foot. Then explore the abandoned...
Yellowstone National Park is my favorite place on earth. I am lucky, a four hour drive from my doorstep gets me to Old Faithful, depending on how many ‘bear jams’ I encounter along the way.
This post is not actually about riding bikes or wild horses. It’s about being scared. Very, very scared. It was Friday morning and I had been waiting all week for test results from a breast biopsy.