5.25.2007

Mountain Biking in Ketchum, Idaho

Sissy and I have spent the last week ‘relaxing’ in beautiful Ketchum, Idaho. This unique ski town is nestled between two mountain ranges, flanked on the West by Bald Mountain and on the East by the Sawtooth Mountains.

We have filled the week with amazing mountain biking, brilliant golf, and wonderful dinners (never thought I would be able to come up with three different synonymous adjectives).

The mountain biking is spectacular here. With our trusty guides Naomi and Brad, the two courses we have tackled are Corral Creek and Adam’s Gulch. Both are extremely taxing from a cardiovascular standpoint, and technically very challenging. The thoughts that cross my head (on both rides) can be summed up as follows; “how awesome,” “how beautiful”, “oh fuck”, “holy shit”, and “I survived.”

Corral Creek is an out and back eight mile ride that has some great slaloms and scary mountain passes. The ride out takes around an hour and a half; while the ride back takes around twenty five minutes. It is great ride and offer many views of the Sawtooth range.

Adam’s Gulch is North of Ketchum. It included several passes over a little stream, a very difficult climb, and a very intense downhill ride.

These rides are both extremely challenging and dangerous, with several opportunities to break limbs, crack heads, and fall off mountains. Both rank 1 out of 5 in difficulty (5 being the most difficult). Needless to say, my abilities as a mountain biker are completely taxed by the ‘easiest’ courses Ketchum has to offer.

My best wipe-out was dog aided. This needs some clarification. Ketchum is an outdoor paradise, it is also a dog haven. Amsterdam has more bikes than people (among other things), Ketchum has more dogs than people. It is great. I love the dogs. They love my bike. As I was coming down a steep mountain pass on the Shady-Side Trail of Adam’s Gulch, a dog ran directly at my front tire. Trying to stop my bike with the fancy disc breaks proved much too simple of a task; thus I locked up wheels and bike, yet I continued on the same course (see physics from freshman year of college). As I flew over my handle bars, I thought, “I am sure glad I have this nice bed of rocks to break my fall.” A couple of scrapes and a bruised ego were the extent of my injuries.

I have found the best remedy after any taxing ride is a burger and a schooner of fat tire. Can’t wait to do it again.