Drew and I decided we’d ride again the following day—new trails are always best explored with someone else. I told him it was his call on what he wanted to ride—I was game for whatever.

He sent a text suggesting Porcupine; his wife would shuttle.

Perfect.

We arrived on the trailhead at the dawn—the exact moment that the sun crested some distant horizon providing enough light to ride easily without direct sunlight. Weather was cool but not cold. No wind. Perfect conditions.

Porcupine is rated 3-5 technical and, for the most part, is a downhill ride when done with a shuttle. The first three miles was broken slickrock, lots of ledges and a general wheelie fest. Actually the entire route was like that.

About 300 yards from the summit I had a small mechanical that required an impromptu derailer disassembly. Soon we were back on track with a working derailer and greasy hands to show for it.

Reaching the top we were awarded an unparalleled view of Castle Valley dropping 1000 feet off the cliff rim below. Pictures don’t even come close to doing the view justice. It was jaw-dropping in every sense of the term.

Andrew and Drew at the top—Castle Valley

From there the trail turned left and down. Because of the technical nature of the trail, however, the downhill was anything but fast.

Drop-off after drop-off followed numerous stairs and ledges. If I had trained for this ride I would have done intervals up and down stadium stairs.

That might not sound like fun to those who profess a love of buff forest single track, but it was fun. Crazy fun. Despite the fact that we both have a pretty conservative riding style, both of us tackled ledges, jumps and stairs that we normally would have walked—and did it over and over and over again. By the time the ride was done, my inner thighs had been beaten pretty badly from coming off my wide seat so many times. I also had a perfect slab-serif X carved into my left calf from a sharply trimmed zip-tie on my seat stay. Other than that, we were injury-free.

Jackass Canyon, (I’m guessing the name doesn’t come from the 4-legged animal, but rather the 2-wheeled downhill animals) was fine, but many parts were just too much for us and we walked a fair portion of it. All that scrambling over rock resulted in a broken cleat, but by that time we were almost down anyway so I didn’t bother to stop to fix it.

All-in-all was a remarkable point-to-point ride with amazing views, sweet downhill and enough trickery to bring may riders to the next level. Maybe next time I’ll do it as an out-and-back starting at Jackass and going to the point.

Porcupine

Typical riding surface on Porcupine

The cliffs

Jump-off point

I don’t know why, but even though I’ve been mountain biking on and off for 15 years, I’ve never taken the time to go to Moab. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve hitherto harbored no love for the desert. Or that I simply have never taken the time. Or both.

Either way, last weekend was a foray into the unknown.Despite that unknown, it was a wild success.

Originally the plan was to bring the wife and kids as well as Caren’s sister and her family. Her husband, Riley, and I often bike together and he’d been to Moab and knew his way around. But they canceled at the last minute so we forged ahead alone.

Early Friday morning I decided I’d better hit Slickrock right off the bat. You can’t go to Moab and leave Slickrock unridden. I biked the 4 miles to the trailhead. Not a bad ride, but I would have been happier with a shuttle.

Those of you who live and breathe Moab will likely chuckling inwardly at some of my descriptions, but be that as it may I still have to point out that this one crazy ride—unlike anything I’ve ever ridden.

Armed only with the trail description, I wavered while planning on whether or not my six year-old daughter could handle the two mile practice loop. Fortunately I didn’t pursue that thought any further as it would have been an unmitigated disaster. (My daughter doesn’t fall in with the crazy nut-jobs that ride rigid single speeds on purpose—it’s just that’s the only thing she has to ride.)

With Slickrock being the epicenter of desert biking, I was surprised to see that I went close to 20 minutes before I saw anyone else on the trail. The first two riders I ran into looked to be completely new to the sport as both were riding $150 Wal-Mart rides and one was even wearing jeans. I have no idea how far they made it, bless ‘em. Good on them for trying.

Just prior to the beginning of the loop and just after a particularly technical hike-a-bike I was surprised to find someone heading the opposite direction. It was, after all, only a half-hour after sunrise.

“Wow, you done already?” I asked.

“No, this is my first time on the trail and if everything is going to be like this, I’m calling it quits.”

I admitted that this was my first Slickrock ride as well, we talked for a few more minutes and I invited him to ride with me for a little while and see if we could make a go of it.

He agreed and we headed out. Turns out we had lots in common. Both Utah county citizens, both fathers of four, both work on the web (me front-end and marketing, he back-end Java coding), and both were new to Moab biking.

We had a blast. It was nice to ride with someone who has a similar outlook on riding as myself: no competition, easy riding and a healthy respect for the technical.

By the end of the ride we had both decided that, while Slickrock is fun and all, we weren’t huge fans. Forest singletrack has so much more appeal than does rock. I have since reconsidered and want another go at it.

Slickrock Sunrise

Me

One of the many canyons

Drew at the intersection of Slickrock and a jeep trail

Taking the stairs

For me, an impasse

Riding the edge

More to come…