KDAY RACING

COLOUR THEROY

29 September 2009

All across the Wasatch, blogs, tweets and facebook updates are being decorated with stunning fall colors. How sweet it is. I'd love to do the same but I've since given up my camera possessing rights to SDAY and Layla, as they document their daily adventures at home and in the park. So imagine with me...

We're riding some really nice single track, the air is crispy warm with a slight northerly breeze. Brightly colored leaves fall from the trees and decorate the trail as if the mountains we're celebrating our arrival in ticker-tape style. We pass along a babbling brook where a mother deer and her fawn stop to take a drink. We pass with care as to not disturb their quiet moment. Further up the trail we notice a family of squirrels gathering acorns and other necessities to bring back to their den, as old man winter is whispering of his arrival.

At the top of the trail we pause for a moment to observe two unicorns as they frolic in the wild flowers, chasing one another through the meadow and on the shores of a crystal clear lake. Over the mountain peaks in the distance the sun begins to set as the sky beams in gradients of red, yellow and orange. The soft puffy clouds that were once as white and pure, are now blending in with the vast and colorful forest that surrounds us.

Before we begin our decent, I reach into my pocket and grab what I think is a Clif bar but is actually a pack of Skittles. How ironic. Even our treats have take on the colorful scene that seems to be consuming us. Just as we finish our bag of delicious, sugar treats, the unicorns approach as if they have something to tell us. I display the universal hand signal to notify them that we are not a threat. The bow to show their acceptance and move even closer. Then, with no warning at all the unicorns begin to attack you with their sharp, sparkly horns. In a way it's beautiful. As they slash and stab, their horns leave a glittery trail through the air which only adds to the already beautiful scenery. As they finish their work, they now step closer to me. They pause for a moment. Then wings sprout from their back and open wide as they extend into the brisk mountain air. Rearing on the hind legs they begin to sprint across the lake, their hoofs barley touching the water. "Thank you" I yell to them as they magically fly away. Now I can rip the DH without you slowing me down.

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