It seems that every year I manage to make it to the saddle of Little Baldy. This year I went with a couple of other riders and we even ventured a fair distance towards Big Baldy.
You might not know it, but in Orem we have a challenging trail up to a couple of saddles formed between a couple of small mountains and Mount Timpanogos. One of those mountains is really more of a ridge, but it does have a saddle, although it is hard to distinguish. That is the mountain that we call Little Baldy. If Big Baldy is the bald head, then Little Baldy is kind of like a sideburn or something.
On the morning of June 19, Terry, Jeff and I headed up to the trails. I rode up from my house to the Dry Canyon trail head and met Jeff and Terry there. We took the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, special Orem edition around to the Provo section and climbed up Franks trail to the Altar.
We rested at the Altar for a couple of minutes, enjoying the quiet while we rehydrated. I had biked with Terry on one occasion before but at this time I couldn't remember him.
We headed up the Great Western Trail to the saddle of Little Baldy. The temperature was around 58 degrees, no wind, the sun was still not fully up; we were shaded still by the mountain at 8AM. The trail was its usual rocky self. At one point I launched a rock from my rear wheel that somehow knocked Terry off balance and he had to restart his climb. Whoops. Sorry man.
This trail is a relentless climb that forces me to reach inside and summon my late Stepdad to yell at me. Then I have to pedal harder to leave him behind. I finally left him behind near some stinky horse stuff.
Right before the saddle there is a sweet downhill of shame. You must make it down without taking your feet off the pedal or you feel the shame. Then one more climb and you are at the saddle.
On the way up I felt like I was some kind of awesomeness because I was staying ahead of Terry. Later it turned out that he had gone off the edge and slashed his shin with some kind of mountain rubble. So that was my little hollow victory.
Jeff and Terry. Note the gash on Terry's shin. You can't buy stuff that cool.
On the way down I tried to keep up with Terry but he was too fast. I tried to take one of the sketchy ledge/rock hazards after he did and I landed it funny. That was my endo adventure where my right knee landed between two mean looking mini boulders. I was grateful for the knee protection. My bike came crashing down on my back but again I was lucky, no big owies.
I saw Chris Cockrell on his way up to the saddle. Not sure how far he made it, but that was the only other biker we saw riding up the Great Western Trail that morning. It's amazing that so few riders would be up there on a Saturday morning.
Coming down Dry Canyon we took the stair avoidance trail which is now washed out. You now cross the wash on foot because it is nothing but a steep sided wash which actually undercuts the trail. Terry found out about the undercut when the trail gave way underneath him.
Oh at the parking lot of Dry Canyon, it dawned on me. I had ridden with Terry at Lambert Park in Alpine last winter, but that was a bigger Terry. Since then he has lost 35 pounds and so I didn't recognize him.
I can't wait 'till we actually take on Big Baldy.
