Amelia on the JEM trail with her favorite flower, Desert Plume, and Molly’s Nipple.

Molly’s Nipple is a prominent landmark in the Hurricane Valley.  The butte can be seen from everywhere. The funny thing is there are at least 12 Molly’s Nipple’s in the West, with 7 of them in Utah!  Sometimes it’s spelled Mollies, but it’s always Nipple. Back in the early 1800’s, Molly was slang for a prostitute.  The old frontier guys must’ve been obsessed with breasts and nipples. I just get a chuckle that in the land of Mormon, Molly’s Nipple is still Molly’s Nipple.

Yours truly and Molly’s Nipple.

Molly’s Nipple from the street outside of WillowWind RV Park.

Amelia on the Quail Lake Overlook Trail with Molly’s Nipple in the upper left hand corner.

Amelia at the Guacamole Trail, with Molly’s Nipple at about 9pm.

Shelli and Amelia on The South Rim of Gooseberry Mesa with Molly’s Nipple in the background.

Amelia and Molly’s Nipple.

Ok, that’s enough of Molly’s Nipple! It was a great trip. We biked, and biked, and biked, and then biked some more.  We ate and drank, but we must be getting old, because we brought back a lot of beer and almost all of the wine.  Twenty years ago, when I was Forest’s age, that wouldn’t have happened.  The best beers out of the bunch were Victory at Sea from Ballast Point (duh) and Mosaic IPA by St. Archer. This is a limited release. If you can find some, stock up.

We also stress tested the Airstream.  The last four nights we had three adults and two dogs all co-habitating in our 25ft coach. Now that’s close quarters! I’m guessing everyone has seen enough pics of all of us riding on rock.  If you haven’t, please check out our friend Roger’s blog:  www.twoairheads.com  Roger, his wife, Gail, and their Airstream were in Hurricane with us. I think you’ll find his blog quite entertaining, even if you are tired of seeing us riding rock.

The Secret tub at Little Creek Mesa.

Amelia and Shelli coming down a steep section at the Goose.

It was Shelli’s first time in Hurricane. It’s always fun to see Hurricane through a first timer’s eye.

Sara and Osborne.

The one, the only, and grand daddy of them all, Gooseberry Mesa.

Twenty-one years ago today my brother, Eric Jon Harris, died in a paragliding accident.  Twenty-one years have passed and this is still a very hard day.  When I’m with my old and dear friends we still tell EJ stories and laugh. I think about him everyday.  I wonder what he would be doing twenty-one years later.  How many kids would he have had?  Would he still be living in Mammoth?  Would he be here in Hurricane with us enjoying the friendships, mountain biking, endorphins, food and beer?  His spirit is definitely with us.

Nothing makes you laugh like a basset hound. This is Buford. Every evening he walks through the rv park and gives us love.

Forest, Amelia and Roger having FUN on Gooseberry Mesa.

Another classic Goose shot with Roger and Forest.

The riding really is surreal. Roger in the lead, then Forest and Amelia.

Bad ass singlespeeding cousins.

Sara the catdog.

Roger playing a didgeridoo.

Roger on the Guacamole Trail.

The lucky Mrs. Harris at Red Cliffs.

Forest is the real deal. He’s just humoring us when he rides with us.

Amelia on the Guacamole Trail with Zion in the background.

It’s our half way point of the trip. Forest left this morning at 5am to go back to San Diego.  Shelli and Osborne are on their way to Hurricane.  No doubt they will pass each other somewhere on the 15.  After six days of riding, it is time for an off day to rest the body and let some of the abrasions and bruises heal.

Happy Easter everyone!

How’s this for a front door view!

Visiting new places is exciting, but going to familiar places is comforting. So here we are again, feeling comfortable in Southern Utah.

The Virgin River Gorge is actually in Arizona, but the Utah border is only about 10 miles away. And that’s where the mountain biking is.

Our last stay here it was blazing hot with a furnace blast wind. And we were the only ones in the entire campground. This year the campground was almost full, mostly with Canadian snowbirds, but the temperature was a very pleasant mid 80’s and the wind was like air conditioning.

Next stop, Hurricane for an overdose on life’s basics; friends, mountain biking, endorphins, beer and food.

What a perfect time to get out of town! Our kitchen is being remodeled.

The only downside to Utah is you need to haul in your own beer and wine. Utah has some really screwy liquor laws. In the stores they only sell 3.2% beer. Two thumbs down on that.

Hammer time.

Shade is a scarce commodity mid day.

Desert Marigold.

The campground.

Hedgehog Cactus.

Sidewinder Trail in the Santa Clara River Reserve in the St. George area. And yes, that’s a cotton t-shirt.

Amelia on Barrel Roll.

Evening in the desert.

The climb on The Zen Trail. As you can tell, all the riding looks the same in the St. George area. It’s a nice warm up for Hurricane.

Another Zen Trail shot of Amelia.

The Apricot Mallow was everywhere.

My girls at the not so mighty Virgin River.

Mrs. Fancy Pants likes wildflowers in vases on the dining room table.

Sara loves the Airstream.