Go west, young man

Last weekend the lady and I decided rather spontaneously to head over the Continental Divide, out of Colorado, and into the supposedly sunny environs of Moab, Utah. You know that, or uh, Broab, or, uh, Slickrock City, or Mother Of All Broabs if you’re not into the whole brevity thing.

It rained on us all Saturday night, and that meant no bike riding Sunday. Still enjoyed the camping, the riding, the sunrises, the sunsets, the birds, and I guess my girlfriend.

Good way to spend a rest weekend. Which makes me wish I had 52 rest weekends a year, as there’s so much to do and see out here.

Whitney’s first mountain bike ride, Whitney’s first mountain bike crash, my first trip trying out some sweet new camping gear. Can’t wait to go back.

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