Monday, February 28, 2011

Dishing the Dirt

In May of 1993, Scott sent me to Moab to go on a five day, four night mountain biking trip around the White Rim Trail.  He was old friends with Chuck and Judy Nichols, owners of an adventure tour company, and he had arranged with them for me to go.  He said it was so that I would be better able to sell mountain bikes and talk up the adventure.

Free trip?  I'm in!

Now, the funny thing about a five day trip through the Utah desert, on a mountain bike, is the fact that you never get to bathe.  There are no magical watering holes, like you always see in the movies, so that the coeds can all go skinny dipping as the axe-wielding maniac stalks them and kills the ones who dare to have sex.  Nor is there room in the support vehicle to carry any more water than what is necessary for hydration, cooking, and cleaning pans.

So, five days of sweating on the bike, with dust blowing all around, and sleeping in sandy-floored tents later, the "desert showers" (baby wipes) that a rider has been using all week seem to lose their efficacy.

I got home after the trip, and immediately got into the (real) shower.  You know the old saw about "It says shampoo, rinse and repeat.  But, how many times do I repeat?"  Well I can tell you the answer to that:

Keep repeating until the rinse water coming out of your hair is no longer the red color of Utah slickrock.

Then, once more.


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As always, sorry about the word verification. It's a necessary evil, unfortunately.