Trip Report: A Desert Wedding
“My ass and hands hurt.”
“I feel like I’m going to vomit.” I respond.
Words you don’t typically hear on the first day of your honeymoon.
Step back three years earlier and in a series of unlikely events two transplants meet in Santa Fe, NM and begin a love story centered around beer, the outdoors, but most importantly: cycling.
I was a recovering roadie disappointed in the rough roads and endless flats we all experience in New Mexico. Looking to the hills, I kept resisting the urge to go mountain biking fearing the inevitable loss of teeth, sweat, and hard-earned income. It was just a matter of time before those skinny tires got fat and knobby, but not knowing any friends to help me get started, the desire was kept at bay while the miles of cracked pavement and broken glass kept rolling under my wheels.
She was pure dirt from day one. Growing up in Sin City, her escape was to hit the dusty trails solo and avoid the chaos of The Strip. She moved to Santa Fe for work and quickly discovered endless trails of beautiful singletrack and mountain views. Like me though, she knew no one to show her the trailheads or how to ride in this region of the Southwest. It’s very word-of-mouth around these parts.
We met on a blind date, got to know each other on two legendary camping trips, and after a handful IPAs sitting by the campfire we had a sense we found something special. Her love for mountain biking was contagious and no later than six months after our first date I had purchased my first mountain bike. It’s been all downhill since…
Now here we are today, hungover and realizing we may have bit off more than we could chew. The night before we tied the knot and partied into the early morning light high above Moab in the La Sal Mountains. Our wedding was distinctly bike-centric: a ride out at Dead Horse Point with the future father in law, two mountain bikers on top of our cake, and four bikes crammed into the “Honeymoon Express” to ride during the next two weeks.
It was no surprise then that our first ride as Mr. and Mrs. would be so painfully memorable. With little sleep and sweating out the previous night’s champagne, we sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking Castle Valley only halfway down the Whole Enchilada.
“Relax and let the bike do the work. We have a long way to go still.”
“Don’t worry about me. You look green.” She responded, smiling.
We soaked in the view, dangling our feet over the abyss, trying to gain composure. After some time, we both laughed, mounted our bikes and paused to take in the moment.
“This is crazy.” I say nervously, looking down the rocky ribbon of singletrack that will forever connect the two of us.
“I love you too.” She replies, pedaling, clearing a ledge, and disappearing out of site.
Over the next two weeks we would check off trails from our bucket-list, test the ability of our equipment, disappear from the outside world, and enjoy each others company in the stunning solitude of the backcountry. Towing our off-road trailer, we would take a route from Moab to Hanksville, San Rafel Swell to Capitol Reef, Escalante to the North Rim, Cedar Mesa and back to Santa Fe.
Please enjoy the gallery–there is simply too many details to cover here. Instead, we will let the photos do the talking.
Landscapes:
And of course, here’s some images from the wedding itself. We were married high up in the La Sal Mountains overlooking Moab and the Canyon Country that lead to our love.
And lastly, the video:
K3 – Wedding to Desert from Klain Channel on Vimeo.