
This is my new mountain bike. I bought it used from a co-worker a couple of weeks ago to help me enjoy the things that the Great State of Nevada has to offer - like dirt, rocks, dusty trails, and strong winds.
Yesterday my roommate Andrew and a guy named Chris and I took our bikes into the desert near Blue Diamond, which is a tiny town outside of Las Vegas. We rode for miles and miles, but somewhere out in the middle of nowhere Andrew's bike threw a shoe. Well, it got a flat tire. We weren't able to repair it, so he started walking out, as we followed him on our bikes. Eventually we got to a part of the trail that wasn't too far from a state highway, so Andrew and Chris walked out to the road, leaving me the key to the car that got us to the trailhead in Blue Diamond. Andrew was the only one of us who had riden in that area before; in retrospect it would have been a better idea to have him ride one of the functional bikes out to the car and come back to get us. But instead he pointed out the way to me, and I forged ahead (can you "forge ahead" on a trail that's already there?) on my own. Where Andrew told me to go didn't take me back to the car, though. It didn't even take me back to Blue Diamond. I ended up backtracking a couple of times, traversing a few hills, following a dry stream bed, crossing two barbed-wire fences, and finding my way to Blue Diamond highway, about 4 miles away from the actual tiny town. Once I got to that road, I faced a 25-mph headwind that was too much for my feeble legs to handle at that point, so I went the rest of the way switching between riding and walking. Once I got there, I drove back and picked up the other guys, who had stopped at a gas station and were knocking back gatorades. I was happy to see that none of us had died. I learned at a young age (from Scooby Doo) that splitting up a group almost never leads to good things, but in our case everything turned out okay. And fortunately, it looks like Andrew's bike will be able to be repaired and won't need to be put down.

