What singletrack?

Paonia has a secret.

But the locals—private folk—just might hunt me down if I share it. So, instead, I’ll share a bit about my weekend mountain biking in the Colorado farming valley. I journeyed there with Kristy, WAm’s editor in chief, for Alison Gannett’s Rippin Chix mountain bike camp.

Fellow Rippin' Chick Krista contributed this photo.

We six participants jumped right into the two-day clinic at noon Saturday. Alison and our Janae (both former mountain bike pros) coached us over obstacles and down switchbacks through the middle of the cherry orchard. One pedal fell off my bike an hour into the experience. The thread on the crank was so worn that it was impossible to re-attach, so Alison let me borrow her ride for a while. I visited the most reputable bike shop in town—an old school bus parked next to a thrift store—after the clinic. I was hoping for an easy fix but had no luck. The shop was closed. I used another woman’s bike on Sunday’s ride.

Saturday night, Alison threw a mock wedding reception at Holy Terror Farm so she could photograph it and promote future events there. We spruced ourselves up for the party, although wearing a dress—I changed in the barn—and shiny shoes on a farm seemed silly, especially after sweating in a helmet all afternoon. We and fifty others enjoyed a five-course farm-to-table feast, complete with wine and fresh fruit juice. Some thought it funny to sample this mouth-numbing plant too.

We rode Jumbo on Sunday morning, accessing it through Alison’s neighbor’s land. I did not enjoy the first hour or so. I hated the uncertainty, the effort to avoid goatheads, the danger I felt off road. We pedaled up a fire road and, when we were huffing and puffing pretty well, stopped at a fork in the trail. We went left and, ultimately, up. And that is when I started having fun. The rest of the ride was on single track with rock-garden technical sections, bridges, and finally whoop-de-doos. Without going endo, I made it up to Grassy Meadow then back down, which is the impressive part. At the fork, we went down this time and practiced whoop-de-doos there. I honestly did not want to try them but did because the others were watching. Every time, I made it down and up again, somehow. Alison said I decided whether to make it and could see in my body if I chose while in the dip not to make it. Through trial and error, I learned that it’s true. Determination got me through those roller coaster-like thrillers. At the trailhead, I bombed down the hill, gaining momentum for the final climb, then I raised my fist in the air, totally satisfied, at the top. You can view a video of these adventures on Facebook.

Kristy and I rounded out the trip with a dip in some roadside hot springs and a float down the freezing Crystal River. What a full weekend! The best part: I know Paonia’s secret. And now you do too.

Maybe you want to discover a new sport or a hush-hush destination too. Registration just opened for the Rippin Chix Steeps Camp with Alison Gannett and Heather Paul at Aspen Highlands. “It is a new fun camp for those wanting to learn or master the steeps, bumps, trees, root, rocks or moguls,” Alison says. Get more info on her website. If you attend, be sure and let us in on that area’s secrets too.