It started out like it was going to be an undiscovered ride that we just hadn't know about. Not too steep, and a wide very rideable trail.

Funny how that is. Next thing you know you're pushing your bike up hill thinking "Maybe this won't last long". Yeah right. At one point the trail was so steep uphill that I wondered how hikers could walk on the damn thing.

Luckily this is the Wasatch, not the Himilaya and the mountains do eventually top out. When ate our sandwiches and then Dan, bless him, pulled out chocolate cake. In my haste to ride up to the trailhead I had failed to notice the nice little old lady and her private bake sale on the side of the Emigration Canyon road. Luckily Dan has an eye for that sort of thing.

We all thought we were home free when we climbed on our bikes and started down the double track through the tall grass. When we reached the switchback, where we had seen a trail on the map, there was nothing but a faint track heading into the scrub oak. After about a quarter mile of cursing as we dragged our bikes through the thick bushes the trail finally came off the north side of the ridge onto the south and we could actually ride our lumps of steel.

It was the usual steep rocky descent, but so beautiful with the rain squalls in the distance. Some nice flowing single track with sections of roots and rocks and a couple of stream crossings later and we were down into Emigration Oaks.

We spotted a little piece of singletrack leading down off the high road -- Dan took off like a swallow, quickly darting and weaving out of sight. He's prone to doing that. When will I learn to not give chase? Flubbed a minor turn at high speed and my back wheel slid off the trail. Down hard before I knew it, shaking off the dust as Evan rode up. The usual scrapes and a sprained finger -- Yes, I lived.