Flying in, getting a rental behemoth, arranging a rental condo, and shipping a bike. Far more hassle than what had once been a six hour drive after throwing a load of crap into the car. A long delay at JFK due to logistical reasons, then an emergency landing in St. Louis added to the anxiousness to get groundside and begin riding.
Unfortunately that didn't happen until the day after our arrival, late in the day. After picking up the bike, assembling the bike, ensuring said bike wouldn't explode while pedaling - it was time to go.
A simple spin up Sand Flats Rd. to go tool around the Slickrock trail would have to suffice. I like this trail. I don't get bored of it. I can ride it every time I'm in town. So many different lines and ways to do things. Sure, it can be filled with helmetless, out of water, flat prone gumbies and families, but hey -we all started somewhere, right? After our happy fun time travel adventures getting to this point, this was welcomed heartily.
The looks on peoples faces when the round the corner (from either direction) to Shrimp Rock and find some dude lounging about and drinking a beer are entertaining.
The elevation change from sea level wasn't too noticeable at this point. Granted, working the pig bike up the hills had me going slowly enough already that I may just have not noticed the difference.
Some things are harder work than others, which makes them no less enjoyable, really.
The next two days, I hooked up with a couple friends to ride, while Mrs. Scrub ran off to go run. Good times, good times.
The desert is full of life, if you know where to look. Alvin!!!!!