Dirt, Rubber, and Fire Chief

Spring.  What comes to mind when you think of spring?  Is it cool afternoon rain showers?  Is it flowers?  Could it be the excited anticipation of the long days of summer?  Well, what could go down as a perfect weekday afternoon would be my mountain bike, a good hard ride, and a couple of beers afterwards.  Luckily, my spring was kicked off the right way last night.  A good buddy of mine and I decided we needed to get the mountain rigs properly christened for the spring of 2011.  We both took off from work a bit early and headed down to White Ranch just north of Golden; a trail system neither of us had ridden.  I'd heard from some guys on the team that it started out with a pretty good climb, so I was curious as to what exactly a "pretty good" climb was classified as. I'd ridden most of the trails around Boulder as well as the mountain roads, so I knew what those 'pretty good climbs' were like.

Just as we left the parking lot, the rain started to fall.  Light drops speckled the dirt as we started the ascent, and with every turn, the trail could be seen slowly disappearing as it meandered it's way up the mountain side.  An hour went by, and we were still climbing.  By the time we got to the first 'summit', the rain had picked up a bit and we made our way to another set of trails.

All of that climbing was now starting to pay off; the descent had begun.  I led and with water bars intersecting the trail, we were able to jump a bit.  The rain had made all hard surfaces slick enough to be dangerous.  Any root, rock, or man-placed lumber was turned into a place to respect; too many times I've gone down due to a loss of traction on wet trails.  Down some more, and along side a small creek we went.  Lush ferns, and fresh grass lined the trail and spring was definitely in the air.  A bit of climbing greeted us as we had to recover some of the elevation we had just lost before we met up with the main trail back to the lot.

Once on the 'highway' back down the hill, I adjusted my suspension, and off I went.  Dirt and mud flying with a chilled Colorado wind in my face, I couldn't help but smile.  Jumping every little rise I could, I made my way further down.  Just as I had doubled back I heard Scott yelling at me; damn, a flat.  He had to run his bike back (not wanting to use my extra tube).  Down to the car I went, and the rain picked up.  I threw the bike on the roof and waited for Scott's arrival.  Once he showed his face, it was time for me to head back up to Boulder to meet up with another buddy in town.

I'm sure you're now wondering what this story has to do with beer.  Well, we settled down at a table in the bar at the Walnut Brewery for a round of post ride beers.  The Fire Chief is still on tap but is to be replaced tonight by their Daylight Rye.  There's nothing quite like a good tall beer after a couple of hours in the saddle...