It's not your momma's trail.

South Fork of Provo Canyon = Nemesis

Paige (my semi-sister-in-law and then-roommate) took me on my first mountain bike ride about 4 years ago, shortly after completing her spring term mountain biking class at BYU.

Let's review.

Paige: buff, nicknamed "thoroughbred" (like a horse that can run and jump at super-human levels), and at one of the many peaks in her fitness level after recently completing an advanced mountain biking class at BYU.

Catherine: out of shape, working at least 55 hours a week, and mountain biking for the first time.

As you might have guessed, despite my fiercly competitive spirit, I gave up from heat exhaustion and general body death around mile 1.5. Since that fateful afternoon four years ago, I have attacked that same trail about 4 times... only to be turned back around somewhere in the middle of the trail out of exhaustion as the mountain laughs in the background.

One request: before you decide that I'm a pathetic loser, check out the trail description at utahmountainbiking.com, Utah Valley Trails, Windy Pass Trail. Among the highlights:

"Starting at 5700 feet altitude, you'll climb 3300 vertical feet to the pass. Out-and-back, it's 13 miles round trip. Because of narrow trail, loose rock, and injury potential, I'm rating this trail advanced technical, very strenuous aerobic."

"This is not an easy trail. I'd reserve this trail for an advanced rider (with good rock-surfing control) who's looking for a climbing challenge. If that's you, go for it."

"It's not your Momma's trail."

Despite this being advanced technical, strenuous, a climbing challenge and... all on all... not my momma's trail, Chantal and I attacked the mountain late last week as our first attempt to conquer it this season. [Note: the picture above does not come close to doing justice to the steepness of that section of the trail]. Shockingly, the result was a success, despite the fact that our success was tainted by the billion wormie guys along the trail who descended from the trees surrounding us. Chantal might not have classified the ride as a success, as she had to jam on her breaks, scream, and stop to try to get all the cobwebs and worms out of her face and off her body more than once during our descent. The picture above and to the right is of Chantal's handlebars after most of the cobwebs and all of the little worm guys were removed during a break in the descent.

Personally, I maintain that a tainted success is a success nonetheless. South Fork, take THAT!