The crust is primo right now. And I am not talking about the local pizza shop either. Since moving to Bozeman I have never had good crust this time of year. And usually, it is a spring fat bike adventure when I get to ride with ultimate freedom.
Of course one does not have to go far when there is ‘the good crust’. Just head out the door and go wherever you have never gone before. On the golf course. Through your neighbor’s yard. Just go … anywhere. But not us. We wanted to grab hold of the moment.
We decided upon North Cottonwood for its long approach and ease of climb. And the best of all the wide-open field at the end. This was going to be a hoot.
About 10 minutes into the climb it was discovered that the approach climbs like hell. Combine really cold temperatures with tires inflated to like 5 and you have the ultimate resistance machine. Every incline is an extreme workout. And then you set these stupid goals like riding until you spin out. Well stupid, you have all the traction in the world.
And to top it all off we ran out of crust as we went into North Cottonwood Canyon. Just powder. It would have been good to have skied at this point. But then where is the adventure in just turning around for a 5 minute run down some field.
We climbed. Crossed a bridge and really started climbing. The carrot on the end of the pole was that the trail was burned out and the traction was great. And the views … such dramatic views.
We stopped on a huge drift atop a ridge. We could see the entire valley and we were apparently very high.
Continuing was not in the cards, not on the aspect in front of us. It was deep compressed snow. Maybe even avalanche danger. We snapped out of our adventure stupor and came to our senses.
“Time to go downhill”
“Yea, time I guess … so much for riding crust all day”
