When I first learned about backcountry skiing I thought it was inane. However, my disbelief that people would willingly engage in this outdoor pursuit quickly turned into biting curiosity. I thought, let me get this straight…I will have to purchase an entirely new ski set-up and expensive touring necessities so that I may endure hours of uphill drudgery—all for the grandeur of dropping down one measly slope? That all seems most unsatisfying. And, by the way, skinning doesn’t exactly sound like a pleasant activity. Alas, many of my friends are avid backcountry excursionists, and it pains me to be left out, so of course I caved. I blame it on peer pressure.
Story and Photo by Jonathan Cracroft
Experience your own personal Tour De Utah and check out these five rides for a full-on feast of autumn color, heart-pounding climbs, bomber downhills and lightning fast flats through some of Utah’s best canyon country. Maps of all the following routes and more can be found on my www.MapMyRide.com" MapMyRide.com page under “jlcracroft.”
It's just past 3:00 a.m. I’m running alone on a dark, deserted highway, lit only by moonlight and the steady beam of my headlamp. I’m two miles in to the last of my three race legs—a 3.1-miler ending with a steep uphill. Since yesterday morning, I’ve run about 10 miles and slept only two hours. Yet I feel alert as my feet strike the pavement in a steady rhythm. A blaring horn shatters the quiet night as my team van cruises by and pulls over ahead of me on the road. They refill my water bottle and cheer me on to the finish. I feel re-energized as I trek toward the runner exchange.
Nearly 15 years ago I was diagnosed with cancer. Although shuffling in a hospital gown [with drip-line in-tow] replaced my trail running; hanging out in the shallow-end of the pool replaced open water swims; and mild yoga replaced hard strength training, I knew that outdoor recreation would be the foundation of my recovery and well-being. Fifteen years later, after an intense day in the office, I head to the mountains to “blow out the carbon.” The temperature is cool and blossoming wild flowers sparkle against the brilliant blue sky. After a few hours of hiking my favorite ridgeline, I drive home with renewed vigor—outdoor recreation is my wellness prescription.
Written by Steven Wesley Law
Lava Falls is a nefarious, hydra-headed beast. She loves to embarrass me. She has tried to maim me. She has tried to drown me. She has pinned me in her corner pocket. I’ve come within an inch of flipping in her V-waves. Lava Falls hates me. I am a Capulet. She is a Montague. She is a stick. I am her piñata. But sometimes, I think just to mess with my head, she lets me pass through cleanly and safely. You never can tell what you’re going to get with Lava Falls. You see, Lava Falls is like a catholic schoolmarm: sometimes she’s forgiving, but sometimes she puts you over her knee and spanks you.
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