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Semple: S’cuse me while I kiss the Sky Mountain Park - Aspen Daily News

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One time there was a book in the window of the Thrift Shop — it was one of those big coffee table types, with a beautiful picture on the front and bold yet elegant font boasting a dubious claim, “The Great Religions of the World.” Out of morbid curiosity, I went inside and took a look. Turns out it must’ve been some kind of joke book or maybe I was on “Candid Camera,” because there was nary a peep of either skiing or mountain biking to be found on the glossy pages within, just a bunch of mumbo jumbo.

There are two great unrecognized religions of the world in my life: skiing and mountain biking. By no means am I zealot, but consistently practicing these two hand-eye coordination disciplines is one of the things that gives living here tangible meaning to me. A connectedness to the outdoors, ways and means to some sort of physical fitness — and more importantly — a way to go get your head straight when things get sideways. The seat of my mountain bike is like the psychiatrist’s sofa.

Opening day at the church of Sky Mountain Park is a day I try to celebrate each year with every bit of anticipation as the opening day of skiing. Its mountain bike trails are a lifetime achievement award for aging mountain bikers like myself. The relatively new concepts of “flow trails” are the mountain biking equivalent of skiing the noon groomer at Snowmass. It’s incredible how mature the trails at Sky Mountain Park are in contrast with how fledgling they actually are compared to Sunnyside, Rim and Government trails.

Rediscovering the local trails each spring is like seeing an old friend who always summers in Aspen. I’m somehow oddly reminded of the fluffy-headed character Dill from “To Kill a Mockingbird,” who spends summers with his aunt. When the snow melts, just like clockwork, ol’ Dill comes back to town — a little older, a little wiser, maybe a few new attributes, but the conversation picks back up naturally right where it left off. There’s a silent understanding and childlike innocence that translates to an ease of companionship.

If you stick around here long enough, you can see trails change before your very eyes. There are specific roots and rocks I’ve been riding over since my childhood that I feel a profound connection to — and others I’ve worked on during volunteer trail days that I have a sense of ownership towards. Sections once smooth are now rocky, and others formerly rough, now buff.

When mountain biking first arrived here in Aspen, I was largely into motocross. The arduous yearslong transition from riding BMX bikes at the base of Smuggler where Centennial now sits, to mini bikes, to motorcycles up at Warren Lakes, to mountain bikes and now mountain e-bikes on the local Jeep roads has been that of a dusty, muddy parabolic arc telling a tale of my willingness to risk my life for fun. With lots of bandages and Neosporin.

One day I was riding my Yamaha YZ 125 on Richmond Ridge in fifth gear full-throttle at an extremely high rate of speed when I hit a rock. I unintentionally did one of those tricks called a “Superman” you used to see out at the X Games when they had the snow-bike events. It was an out-of-body, near-death experience. I regained control somehow, downshifted, turned around, came straight home and sold the motorcycle and all the accompanying gear the next day.

Now I judge my skill level by still being able to ride the “root” on Government Trail without getting a helicopter ride to the Grand Junction trauma center. Generally keeping my bike on the ground now and not jumping is nature’s way of telling me I’m getting old. That’s what I like most about the Cozyline Trail and Viewline Trail at Sky Mountain Park — there are no jumps of man-made berms.

That’s more than I can say about Deadline or Seven Star Trail. These paths seem more like a terrain park — or an amusement park ride nearly to the point of nausea — for me. Like air-sickness-bag-dispensers-at-the-bottom-level nausea. Remember when trails had the confidence in themselves to follow the natural contours of the terrain? Now if there’s not a whoop-de-doo, berm or jump every 7 feet, the trail stewards fly into a panic. Listen to me, I sound like a bitter old man!

Table-top jumps I can deal with, but consequence jumps on publicly funded trails, I’m generally not a fan of trying to kill off the bike-riding populace. That’s why I aged out of the Valhalla Trail at Snowmass. Slowly riding the rootless, rockless, man-made single track of Sky Mountain Park while looking at wildflowers, snakes, bones and fossils has been my savior. Beats the hell out of getting strapped into a gurney. Maybe I’m just getting old and should stick to indoor spin classes.

Pitkin County Open Space and Trails has a Sky Mountain Park public comment survey open now if you want to chime in with a good suggestion or an epic rant of your very own. Contact Lorenzo at suityourself@sopris.net or follow him on Instagram via www.instagram.com/lorenzosemple3/

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Semple: S’cuse me while I kiss the Sky Mountain Park - Aspen Daily News
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