A “short” day of of surgery in the OR last week had me at the trail head around 6pm. Mentally, I was prepared for 25 miles and two different loops. I crushed the first up Alice to the top of Gnarley. I felt great.

Bear’s Best crushed me on the second.

Something happened. I’m not sure what.

The strong legs and peppy spirit faded. The ride became drudgery; pure drudgery. Awful. No access to Trailforks because my phone was out of juice. Lost. Dead legs. Water gone. Achy. The climb out of the basin was torture. At every trail junction the choice was made to follow what appeared to be the flattest and easiest way out. Desert surprise. . .more climbing. Lost more. There may have been a few internal curses and private commitments to quit riding because this sport sucks.

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