The Joys of Bike Commuting

Pine Forest from the first Chicken Creek crossing.

Last Saturday the pups and I had our best bike irrigating trip yet, riding up to Chicken Creek Basin and Leonard Creek Meadow, two large meadows that we irrigate with mountain creek water. It is the first time I've been on this route on a bicycle and probably the first time anyone ever has. The day was beautiful, I never saw a soul all day long and I got to pass through a landscape I've known all of my life through the lens of a bicycle, which is in some ways like seeing it for the first time.

Dusty contemplating Upper Ranch.

Climbing out of Lower Leonard Creek.

First stop was at Upper Ranch, my family's first homestead on Leonard Creek. I always love to stop here, the old foundation, Lombardi poplars and old well the signs of my own history, a sort of museum to the connection we have to this mountain. Beyond Upper Ranch the road leaves Leonard Creek and crosses burned over Snow Creek Flat, Snake Hill, scars still more or less visible from the fire that broke out three years ago. Riding through this brought back memories of those terrible days firefighting, but the bright lupine flowers and tall grass reminders of resilience and rebirth.

Relaxing at the Chicken Creek cabin.

Beyond that, the first good views of the Pine Forest massif and Leonard Creek Meadow, a broad valley at the foot of the highest mountains. The road, challenging the whole time, turned to sand I made slow progress along the edge of the meadow and climbing to the cabins, corral and meadow at Chicken Creek. This has always been a special place for me and my family, a place full of good memories and always a pleasure to visit. Behind the cabins I found a comfortable rock and had my lunch: pita and hummus, trail mix and dried cranberries, washed down with the last of my Emergen-C. Then I got to "work" moving the irrigation dams along the small ditch that lines the meadow. Then I turned back to Leonard Creek Meadow.

Coco resting at Leonard Creek crossing.

I left my bike at the first Leonard Creek crossing and hiked up packing my shovel to the northern edge of the meadow, where another small ditch runs along the irrigatable portion of the north meadow. Walking, I considered what it meant to "own" this land, how much can we ever own anything, and yet it is so instilled in my memories and consciousness that perhaps it owns me and not the other way around.

The Surly at Leonard Creek crossing.

Looking south from the north end of Leonard Creek Meadow.

After changing that water, I wandered across the middle of the meadow while the dogs ran in giant circles around, just as excited as me, although for different reasons I suppose. But in my mind they acted like they had come home too, and I made excited plans to move my camp up to the meadow, to devote my entire summer to exploring among the peaks above me and irrigate this meadow, the stop every day and contemplate the mountains and sky all around.

Coco running behind while I coast down.

Then, the afternoon getting late, it was time for the long coast back to the ranch. The whole ride up had been climbing, which meant the entire ride back was down. Not wanting to leave Coco behind, I gently coasted, soaking in the afternoon light and sun, the vast vista of the desert floor, the Jacksons and faraway mountains ringing the whole Black Rock. I vowed that I wouldn't pedal the whole ride home, and mostly I did it. Back at Snow Creek Flat I decided to try off-roading to cut across and save the dogs some running. Despite some spiny brush I don't really recognize on the burn, it was great fun to just run the course of the contour instead of following those manmade lines we call roads. Then coasting, more coasting. We got back to the ranch just at dusk, arriving at the drift fence gate just as my mother drove over top the hill toward the ranch, coming looking for me.

Dusty running.

Still smiling at the end of the day.