Black clouds swirled overhead. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Enormous, heavy rain drops started to fall from the sky. They thudded against the ground, splashing into the dust and gravel of the forest road. I hurried back to the truck, trying fruitlessly to dodge the rain. The heavens opened in earnest, and the rain began to fall in sheets just as I slammed the doors of the truck shut. The water pelted loudly against the windows and roof. I sat for a moment and watched the fury of the storm.
This year I’ve lined up at the start line of several mountain bike races, and every time I have felt the same brooding dread deep in my gut. “Why am I doing this?” Bike racing hurts. It exposes us for who we really are. There is no place to hide. The naked truth is revealed for all to see, and to mock. Our weaknesses are isolated and uncovered, and our most private pain is made unflatteringly public. “Why am I doing this?”
The 2nd annual True Grit Epic Bike Race was held March 17th in Saint George, Utah. This year’s event featured 23, 50, and 100-mile options, and was touted by its promoters as “long, technical, and tough!” Truer words were never spoken.
By Adam Lisonbee There are those unforgettable moments in life when idealistic imaginings collide with reality and experience to create iconic and lasting, even transcendent days. For me, those days come in the form of airy, creamy powder in the winter, and flowy, extraordinary singletrack in the summer. And living along the Wasatch Front provides […]