But riding around there reminded me so much of my favorite Kelly Canyon rides: I think it was late at night two years ago when my brother-in-law (the only person who says ‘yes’ when I ask for mountain biking company anymore) and I went and climbed the road on mountain bikes. In the valley it was raining gently, so we dressed in layers—you never know when you’ll get too hot.
The road up there is about a 900-foot climb in two and a half miles or so, so it’s not a cakewalk. The two of us got to huffing and puffing pretty hard. Because I had more bike-specific fitness, I’d ride ahead and then come back down to join my bro-in-law on the way up.
As we crossed the cattleguard and made our way up the winding road through the trees of the canyon, the light drizzle turned to soft, fluffy snow. All around us, the dark fields changed from mere shadows to whitewashed walls amid the evergreens.
It was gorgeous and perfect.
Beneath us, our tires retained their grip on the asphalt—no ice—while above us, misty clouds swirled and rolled.
Eventually, of course, we got too high in elevation where the road was covered in a sheet of snow and ice. So we turned back there, but the experience before that was just awesome.
So while I’m enjoying the fall weather and temperatures, I can’t wait for the snow.