After our last adventure it may be a while before we feel like going dirt biking again. Of course, we are to blame for our impetuous decisions. Since our summer classes have ended and our summer has finally begun, we actually have time to venture out on some evening rides up Logan Canyon. We are already quite familiar with the area and have nearly covered every trail available... except this one. Just a short drive up Card Canyon, the road splits into two trails. Over Memorial Weekend we conquered the right trail, one we considered fairly difficult - for our skill level anyways. Looking over the map and contour lines, Landon figured the left trail should be much easier and a good ride, and I cheerfully followed.

We set out with still plenty of daylight, a backpack, a water bottle , our out-of-service cellphones, and a map of the trail. The trail wasn't terribly lengthy, so we jetted out without dinner expecting to return shortly. And oh were we wrong! Maybe 5 minutes up the trail, we hit some pretty steep slope cluttered with big rocks and a nasty root exposed at the top. We were able to get my little 150 up and over the obstacle without too much effort, but Landon's XR 650 is double my size and TRIPLE my weight, making this task much more difficult. After trying 3 times to get his bike over the root, I turned to Landon and asked Is this smart? I felt worthless (in strength) and tired, and we were just beginning, without any idea of what was still ahead on the trail. He wasn't ready to turn back yet. With another push and a shove, we finally made it through, just praying that we wouldn't run into any more logs (haha).

We kept chugging along, slowly making progress along really steep slopes on one side (leaving almost no trail), but no logs. The overgrowing bushes made it obvious that the trail was not heavily used by hikers, let alone dirt bikes. I wished so badly I had worn jeans instead of capris. Who would have known I would be weed whacking the whole time. Finally we came across some switch backs. My first thought was Sweet, if we make it to the top of here it should flatten out on the ridge. 3 sharply angled and rocky switchbacks later, we crawled to the top to find instead that the trail dropped right back down to the river bed, right where we came from. Ugh. Now I'm exhausted, my nerves are going crazy over my fear of heights...on a dirt bike. You can just imagine my frustration. We glanced over the map and were now more than half way, leaving no reason to turn back. Once again, we mounted our bikes and went on our way. All I could think was I want to go home. Get me out of here now. I want some pizza, a big glass of Tampico, and my soft, cozy bed. I was so upset that we didn't turn back while we still had the chance. Stupid. I could see Landon's confidence slowly begin to drain out. His strength was our only hope to get us home, considering my whopping 115 pounds of zero muscle. All he would say is we've gotta keep moving - we're running out of sunlight.

Here a log, there a log. I have never hated these darn fallen trees so much in my life. To hikers they're no bother as you just easily climb over, but for motorcycles - a log is one hellish nightmare. And several of them is a nightmare you can't seem to wake up from. We would use every ounce of our strength to get over one log just to find another blockage merely 10 feet up the path. It's no use trying to blaze a way around the log, so up and over was the only option, one bike at a time. We had to have hit at least 20 logs between 12 and 18 inches thick. Unfortunately we didn't bring along the chainsaw this time, or even a handsaw, not that either would have sped up our journey but possibly would have spared us some strength. Then came the big one - it had to be 2 or 3 feet wide. Of course there wasn't just one, but two logs side by side. The sky was now barely lit, darkness taking over the wooded trail. We tried everything to get passed, it felt nearly impossible. Landon was getting nervous now, which made me more nervous. We had no choice, we had to give it everything we had, just hoping that it was the last one. I have no idea how but somehow we got over. I looked down at my shins bare of clothes but now decorated in cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

I really love nature, but when it gives us this many obstacles it's really hard to enjoy the surrounding beauty. The last quarter mile took us nearly 2 hours and we still had another good eighth of a mile ahead. With each log we came to my heart sunk a little more. After several wimpy prayers and pleas, we finally sat down and offered a sincere call for help. Getting home was now beyond our own strength. With a little dose of confidence and Landon's comparison to the life of a pioneer, we laughed a little and kept going. We had to be getting so close. It felt like the road should be just around the next tree, but when we looked ahead into the darkness it seemed impossible. It was pitch black now, without Landon's headlight on his bike we probably wouldn't have survived. Without any strength left Landon decided to try to pop a wheelie over the next log. I stood nearby, completely freaked out when his bike (350 lbs) went completely vertical, up into the air. I thought for sure it was going to land right on top of him, but he kept in control and safely landed it back on the ground, right back where he started. Landon sat down where he was and confessed that he couldn't go any further. We were both hungry, exhausted, dehydrated, sweating, and nauseous from the combination, but it was my turn to keep us going. I offered to go ahead using my phone for a light to look for the road. One log laid another 10 feet up the trail, I climbed over and was immediately headed up a very steep incline. I laughed as I yelled to Landon What if I found the road right up here.. He told me not to joke right now. I took a few more steps and shined my light ahead to find a sign and believe it or not - the freaking road. I nearly cried and I yelled back Landon I'm not kidding, I found the road! It's right here, 30 feet in front of you! We were both ecstatic. We were actually going to make it out alive. We still had two logs to get over, but the end was in sight. We powered our way up to the graveled path, rode another 2 or 3 miles back to the canyon road and circled back around to where our truck was parked at the bottom of the trail. It was now 11:30 pm. We also interrupted someone's laptop movie night in the middle of the woods along the way. Whoops!

 We were too busy fighting fallen trees to get any video or even a picture on our adventure, however we captured some of the aftermath...once we were safely home. At the rate we are going, I'm just hoping we both survive past the age of 30. One thing we are sure of....we are NEVER going back to that trail.