Slickrock Trail in Moab offers one-of-a-kind ride

By Craig Hill, of McClatchy Newspapers - 07/12/2007

Writer Craig Hill bellies up to the edge of a rock cliff 2,000 feet above the Colorado River during a trip to Moab, Utah. Brian Devereux / Tacoma News Tribune / MCT Photo.

MOAB, Utah — Perhaps no town is more synonymous with adventure than this small outpost on the Colorado River.

John Wayne hung out here. Indiana Jones was born here. And Thelma and Louise died here.

There are national parks Arches and Canyonlands on either side of Main Street, and it seems as if there’s an outdoor outfitter on every corner.

While Moab lures climbers, paddlers and almost every other breed of adventurer, it’s especially popular with mountain bikers.

Slickrock Trail, just five miles outside town, is mountain biking’s Fenway Park. Some say Slickrock put Moab on the map. Others say it put mountain biking on the map.

‘‘There’s a reason they call Moab the Mecca,’’ said Wendy Reynolds, a Moab pro downhiller. ‘‘Slickrock is the most unique place to ride. ‘‘ That’s precisely why more than 100,000 riders each year about 20 times Moab’s population try the 10 ½-mile loop.

Recently, some buddies and I decided it was finally time to make the pilgrimage. We weren’t disappointed.

PRACTICE FIRST You know a trail is hard-core when it has a practice loop.

Reynolds recommends Slickrock rookies do the 1.7-mile practice loop before venturing too far from the parking lot.

What makes Slickrock unique is that it’s almost entirely on sun-scorched brown sandstone. Contrary to its name, the rock offers exceptional traction that allows ascents and descents much steeper than you’d want to try on any other surface.

The trail is simply a white dotted line painted across the rock.

I was just 20 yards out of the parking lot before I had to push my bike. It took just five minutes to get my first bruise (handlebars to the pelvis region). After 30 minutes still on the practice loop I was ready to quit.

While I had trouble adapting, my riding partners picked it up much quicker.

Kevin Sullivan of South Hill, Wash., rides once a week and felt at home right away. Brian Devereux of Puyallup, Wash., rode the trail previously and also looked comfortable from the start. John Osmundson of Boise, Idaho, was the only one of us without a full-suspension bike which is highly recommended for this ride and simply gutted it out as his seat tenderized his backside with every dip and bump.

There was no way I was quitting after the practice loop with these guys around, but not everybody is spurred on by peer pressure.

The practice loop isn’t any easier than the main loop, it’s just shorter.

‘‘You have to practice first,’’ Reynolds said. ‘‘Everybody has trouble getting used to Slickrock their first time. I did. It can be scary.’’

AGED TO PERFECTION On the rare occasion you’re not riding on rock, you’re riding in sand. Sometimes you’re greeted by beachlike conditions at the bottom of a steep descent.

Kevin showed us how to deal with this situation when he hit the sand and flipped over his handlebars. The rest of us pushed our bikes.

After about 40 minutes of riding, I started to get comfortable rolling up and down the petrified sand dunes.

The rock surface, which was a beach millions of years ago, feels like sandpaper. It got its name from early settlers who found the surface too slick for their horses’ metal shoes. If only those horses had fat rubber tires and full-suspension.

We cruised down inclines so steep, we had to lean back until the bike seat was nearly under our sternum.

‘‘It’s amazing,’’ said Bryan Lee, a 26-year-old from Denver. ‘‘You feel like you could ride down a wall out there, like you can ride anything.’’

Riding up is another matter.

I had to lean over my handlebars to avoid falling backward, and even then I still had to bail from the bike on many of the steep climbs.

I wasn’t the only one. John took two hard falls when he couldn’t unclip his cleats once he ran out of steam on the climbs. Brian’s bike fell out from under him when he tried to ride a wall around a pothole.

Even the best riders have moments like this on Slickrock, the locals say.

‘‘Slickrock, like a lot of the trails here, is beyond the skill level of beginners and even a lot of intermediates,’’ Reynolds said. ‘‘A lot of people get hurt out there.’’

DON’T BE SHY Slickrock Trail was originally painted for motorcyclists in Moab’s Sandflats Recreation Area in 1969. However, the trail has long since been dominated by mountain bikers.

For the most part we stuck to the painted line as we worked our way around the trail, but there’s much more to Slickrock.

You can ride almost anyplace on the sea of sandstone. Some hard-core obstacles and stunning views reward those willing to explore.

Brian and I decided to explore a bit while Kevin waited with John as he took a break.

After about half a mile, we stashed our bikes at a spot where somebody had spray-painted ‘‘Danger’’ in yellow. From there we continued on foot, scrambling down a natural rock bridge to an overlook 2,000 feet above the Colorado River.

We’d just finished posing for pictures on the edge of the cliff when we heard Kevin hollering in the distance. ‘‘What are you guys doing?’’ Apparently we’d spent more time paying attention to the scenery than our watches. Our quick side trip lasted more than 40 minutes.

JUST THE BEGINNING Here’s the best thing about Slickrock: While it’s the world’s most famous mountain bike trail, it’s just an introduction to the Moab riding scene.

Reynolds says it’s not even her favorite trail. She prefers Porcupine Rim, which is a tad less technical but much faster because it is almost entirely downhill.

We didn’t have time on our second day to ride Porcupine, so on the recommendation of Chile Pepper Bike Shop we tried an intermediate single-track trail called Sovereign. However, a wrong turn put us on a sandy ATV trail instead. After four miles of uninspiring flat terrain, we couldn’t get back to Slickrock fast enough.

‘‘That’s how most people feel once they ride in Moab,’’ Reynolds said. ‘‘They can’t wait to get back.’’