Twice a year a handful of us make the pilgrimage to Fruita to ride our bikes and taste a bit of freedom. The trip has changed some over the years from way back in the beginning when it was just three of us to the five people we usually have now. The first trip saw us high tailing it back in less than 24 hours because my husband didn’t feel well. He was going to take a nap while the kids watched a video. He said to stay put and enjoy myself. The next call I received was a neighbor saying that my husband was being prepped for surgery. He had appendicitis. Back to Boulder we went. So much for his nap.
Now the trip has a certain ebb and flow to it. We always go but sometimes it’s three of us, sometimes it’s four and it’s the best when it’s five. I am in charge of “the list”. The one that says chairs, spare tubes, beer and sunscreen and the like. I’m also in charge of reserving the room at the Super 8 in case you were wondering if we camp. We have 14 kids between us. I think camping is the last thing we think of when we think, “Girl’s weekend.” And even though the girls may change one thing doesn’t; it’s always a great trip. Always a bit different but always great. Even when I tore my ACL that one time, the time leading up to it and the time after it was great.
We ride for three days and we push and we challenge and almost strain ourselves. We bring enough food for a week and even more beer. We generally dance at the trailhead and yes, we tend to draw some attention. And speaking of challenging, one time after riding Moore Fun at the end of the day with Sienna, I literally wanted to dance from the ground I was so tired. Could barely walk. But this is why I go. Yes to have a great time and to bond and to drink beer but also to do more than I think I can. To go past what I perceive to be my limits.
But it’s not all dirt and rocks and single track. There are the tattoos we apply before the ride and the colored hair pieces one of us inevitably doles out (thanks Gina!). And this time we had a lovely high end facial mask (thanks Nic!) to end the day. And just when I think we can’t possibly fit anything else in we do. We laugh and you bet your sweet wheel set we cry. This time we cried more than ever. About what you wonder? Oh, past hurts and losses and then there’s the good friend many said goodbye to in June. The only thing I can figure out is that when we go away for these weekends, we really relax and we really slow down even as we speed along the dusty trails. There is no one else is to take care of but ourselves. No dishes, no laundry, and no lunches to pack. Our minds actually have a chance to go through doors that we usually keep locked tight.
On the long way home, we start planning the next trip. What to bring and scheming about who gets the roll-a-way bed next time. People are often envious of these trips. Almost in awe I’d say. I can totally see why. I would be too.