Back in 2009, my new friend Megan invited me to an annual Girls Trip to Fruita. I don’t remember being too hesitant going on the trip, after all, after 3 short months of a friendship based on backcountry skiing, any friend of Megan was a friend of mine. Anyhow, the trip was a fabulous success and every year since, the five of us have reserved the same camp spot in the same campground in Fruita, done more or less the same rides, and drank the same mojitos and margaritas while trying to bum beers off of as many man-neighbors as we could.
Last year, we branched out and did Moab. This year, we decided that Moab needed another visit.
I’ve written plenty about these trips, after all, they’ve been going on for 7 years (actually 8, but I wasn’t there for the first one).
I could go on about how each of us has something that we’re really good at compared to the others. Kay will launch herself at any power-move uphill, Megan and Shenna will billy-goat down any sketchy downhill, Heidi will drop all of us when it comes to anything high-speed. We all get to be pushed, we all push others. It’s rare to put a group of girls together like that.
This is what happens when I tell them to ride in a line. Total photo-fail.
I could go on about how there’s never any hurry. This trip, we spent 45 minutes waiting in line to get milkshakes at Milts, and no one seemed to care. Dinner is always a leisurely affair, started with at least one drink, sometimes two.
I could go on about how we’re all flexible with whatever happens. This year, we planned on heading to Fruita after two days in Moab, but when we decided we were having way too much fun, we decided to stay. Heidi found us a backyard to camp in, The Compound, where we shared drinks and laughs with a crew coming off of a backpacking trip. Nothing like playing Cards Against Humanity with a complete group of strangers and laughing until you can’t breathe.
Running? Yes! We run too.
I could go on about the food. Everyone brings a dinner and/or breakfast. Thai elk lettuce wraps. Breakfast burritos. Kay’s famous flourless chocolate cake. And sandwiches for rides. I’ve yet to come back from one of these trips without my jeans feeling a little tight.
And then there’s the riding. Day in a day out. Tired legs be damned. Never too fast, never too slow. Always entertaining.
I had to leave a day early this year to fulfill my civic duty, in the form of reporting as a juror in Boulder Monday morning, and it just about broke my heart. This trip is such a bright and shining part of my year, that the idea of missing even a single ride is horrible.
But as a drove north on the highway watching the red cliffs of Moab fade away behind me, I knew it would be okay. Because in just a year, we’ll be back. Another year older, perhaps another year wiser, and another year’s worth of stories to share.