The day after we rode The Whole Enchilada, we were planning on heading out of Moab so we could sink our tires into the Colorado trails people have gushed to us about for years. Although I had mentioned to Jay before we even got to Moab that I wouldn’t be upset if we skipped Slickrock, I knew on some level that we weren’t going to make it out of the area without riding it. I had no reason for my aversion to the trail, however. I think I just thought it was going to be really difficult but also kind of boring.
For a short amount of time, I thought I had escaped the ride, but then Jay casually mentioned that since we were there, we really should ride Slickrock the next morning before leaving town. Okay, fine. I knew this was going to happen in my heart of hearts so I accepted it and really tried to put on a positive attitude. We had stayed in a Super 8 motel the two days we were in Moab so the morning of the ride, we checked out of the hotel and made our way to the trailhead. There’s a $5 entry fee per person to park in the Slickrock parking lot so even though it was only $10, the fact that we paid for the entry meant we were going to actually go through with this.
I had heard stories of how crowded this trail could become and that people had to actually stand in line at times to ride the rocks, but to my surprise, there were only two other cars in the parking lot when we pulled in around 10 a.m. Maybe that should have been a sign. The entire trail is about 11.5 miles with a 2.5 mile practice loop built into that total. Because it was already hot when we started and we were still planning on driving to Durango that afternoon, we skipped the practice off shoot and headed for the main loop.
You probably know that Slickrock isn’t slick or slippery at all, at least not when riding on mountain bike tires; it’s actually very tacky so there was never really any fear of sliding down the rocks from slippery tread. (I'm not sure what happens when it rains and whether that component is compromised. I'm assuming it would be?) The fear crept in in two other ways. Did I mention it was hot? The inferno we were riding into that day was made worse by the fact that being in the high desert, there was little coverage from the sun and the sad little scrub brush that did manage to sustain life amongst the rocks only provided shade for my feet at best. Total exposure to the elements. It’s no surprise that my less than stellar attitude going into the ride amplified my perception of how hot it was and additionally I was still a bit drained and dehydrated from the 25 mile Whole Enchilada ride the day prior. I kept reminding myself though that the trail would only be about 9.5 miles since we ended up skipping the practice loop. How bad could it be?
Fear factor part two entered when I realized that this trail wasn’t just about the experience of riding on slickrock in the desert; it was about who could ride the steepest rock faces on the planet. This was a climbing trail of epic proportions. The climbs were relentless, steep, punchy and exhausting and for me, impossible. Jay is a great climber, especially when something is really tough. Instead of getting pissed off and saying “screw this” like I do, these challenges encourage him to conquer them and he conquered many of the climbs that day. I, on the other hand, hiked many of the climbs that day.
Per the usual, the pictures really don't do the elevation changes justice. Some (many) of the rock climbs had to be at least 20% grades in terms of how steep they were and they were one right after the other. There is a point probably half way through that we were riding a ridge line of sorts which was manageable but that only lasted a short distance. By the end of the loop though, even Jay was ready to get the hell out of there. Seeing the signs indicating the trailhead was somewhat near was the highlight of the ride. I may have cried a little bit.
We made it back to the parking lot and I sat under one of the picnic shelters staring listlessly at the ground for quite some time. I was miserable but also knew that I had the opportunity to ride something that most mountain bikers have heard of and may never experience. I felt badly for robbing someone of that opportunity with my shitty attitude and felt that I should have been more appreciative than I was. You can’t help where your head is sometimes and mine wasn’t in the game. I know people that love this trail and would probably ride it every week if they lived there. It just wasn't for me. Did I have a bad attitude going in? Absolutely. Did that have an impact on how the day played out? Absolutely.
I think I mentioned in the beginning that I may have some kind words about this experience. The trail system as a whole is really well marked in terms of where you're supposed to ride and someone spent a long time laying out the painted lines that serve as your guide. The views are gorgeous and the slickrock is a marvel in and of itself. It's a marvel I would rather just kind of stare at instead of ride but it's a marvel nonetheless. If you're looking for a climbing challenge and a good cardio burn, this is your trail. If you can conquer even half of these rocks, you should feel really good about your abilities. It's also a great place to train for climbing in general. It's really great to see how different localities take advantage of their terrain and make the best with what they're working with and Slickrock is no different. The terrain is really unique and probably not found in many places anywhere.
I was super fortunate to have the opportunity to ride not only this trail but in this part of the U.S. at all and for that, I can't complain.
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