The Adventures of Supermoon

About a month ago I went camping in Moab with friends, but rather than spend the waning minutes of day light setting up a tent I decided to build a fire jump. After dinner our attention turned back to the pile of rocks creating a sketchy-at-best ramp, and since it was dark by this point we used a collection of cell phones to poorly illuminate the take-off. After pulling on a full face helmet I decided to give the jump a shot at about the moment our campsite neighbors rolled up intrigued by what was about to happen. The jump was a success and we continued hanging out well into the night before deciding to ride together the next day.

Riding in Moab

Approximately every 14 lunar cycles the full moon occurs at the same time the earth and moon are closest to each other in orbit. This makes the moon appear larger than usual in the night sky and is known colloquially as a Supermoon.

Last Thursday one of my new friends from Moab, Mike, contacted me about a Supermoon climb to the top of a 14er (Colorado term for a 14,000 foot tall mountain) and then a mountain bike descent down. I thought that was a great idea and met him and his friends for the next Supermoon, Sunday night.

Our hike up quickly turned into a slog as our bikes had to be pushed, lifted, and eventually just carried up the side of the mountain. I thought of my bed, and how even the sleeping bag in my car would be luxuriously comfortable. ‘Why do these adventures always sound so cool when they’re really exercises in pain tolerance,’ I wondered. After a few exceptionally steep grades we hit snow and decided to ditch the bikes there. 

My bike spent a lonely night just below the snow.

No longer lugging 30-50 pounds of gear allowed our pace to speed substantially. Mike’s friends, equipped with skate shoes, jeans, and hoodies, set a blistering pace up the trail in a way only Summit County locals can. I was wearing my goggles backwards on my head so the band covered my ears and wearing every piece of clothing I brought when we hit the summit at about 3am. One of Mike’s friends graciously gave me a down coat that was keeping his backpack warm, improving my mood considerably.

Shorts seemed appropriate in the parking lot... less so at the summit.

The way down was glorious. We slid down large patches of frozen snow and easily plodded from one boulder to the next as we got lower, all under the largest moon of the year. To the East a faint glow of daylight pushed over the mountain ridges, brightening our physical and mental outlook equally. By the time we reached our bikes the sky was illuminated enough to ride without artificial lights so we coasted down the mountain enjoying the natural beauty of the raw and wild trail.

Sunrise over the Rockies