Slightly more than 35 moons ago I happened upon what I think of, now, as a little stash. I'd been riding past this spot for the better part of a decade and never thought a thing about it. The area was one to just get through, not a place to linger.
Or so I'd always thought.
On one of these traverses I happened to lift my head, ever so briefly, and look off to my right. Looking in that direction at that precise moment may have been an unconscious act. Might have been to relax some overused muscle or tendon, or to twitch off a horsefly, or maybe to clear my throat and spit. Dunno why I looked there, then. May never know.
But on days like today, when the local trails and trailheads are infested with more touristas than they can absorb (despite this known fact, a few greedy small-penis-and-ovary types continue to encourage yet more of them to come), I'm positively tickled to have 'discovered' this spot. It is a haven, of sorts, where a coupla guys can take their bikes and play for a few therapeutic hours. No need to deal with traffic, no need to look for a spot in the parking lot (no parking lot!), no trailhead 'scene' to dance delicately around or through (no trailhead!), no texas wheelchairs, no motos, no horses, nothing.
The road 'out' there.
There isn't even a trail--just a few thousand acres of rock and oodles of exploring to be done.
Fortunately, we know a bit about exploring and aren't afraid to get our feet wet.
There were equal numbers of 'up' and 'down' moves to be challenged, but somehow the ones that go with the flow of gravity always seem to look, um, interestinger, in pics.
Scoutin', scopin', and yes, droolin'.
In the early hours, the general trend was a bit, um, edgey.
Doc was happy when we headed further inland.
At some point the 'theme' of the day morphed into airtime. Thinking back on it, I suspect that the terrain and features dictated this. Fine by us.
It's a lot like Goose, before the paint. And 6 hours closer.
Nice to have 'em back.
So much land, so little evidence of human visitation.
No way, no how, could 'it all' be seen, understood, or absorbed in a few hours. Guess we'll have to go back...
Steep natural half-pipe, from several angles.
The discovery of a bowl with multiple fun ways in, but only one way out, led to a bit of adaptation. So much sand on the up-ramp meant not enough traction. Something had to be done.
"Wow! He *never* sweeps up at home..."
Maybe it'll go from a different angle?
We threw ourselves at it several times from several angles. Came away with a few bumps and scrapes, but never managed to pull it off. Yup, gonna hafta go back...
We got back into some edgey stuff, coupled with an offshore wind that had Doc feeling a little uncomfy.
After 4+ hours on the rock, the wind delivered the precip we'd been smelling all day. A few last moves on our way off the rock, then homeward.
Just thrilled to have this unspoiled treasure so close to home. Wanting it to stay the way it is, but needing a way to refer to it when making ride plans, the choice of moniker was obvious: Nunya.
Thanks for reading.