DIRT Dad Fundo Across America—Day Sixteen Rest Day! Guess What I Did?

“You are one ride away from a good mood.” — Sarah Bentley, British cyclist

What did I do? Not what you think!

Nope, I didn’t ride my bike. I bet you thought I did. Instead, I took care of a few things I had neglected and then RESTED!

First on the agenda was getting the Schwenk Tank support crew some much-needed time to unwind. Kristin and Uncle Rudy secured a 9:10 am tee time at The Moab Golf Club. 

 

A beautiful course backdropped by the red rocks carved from the unique high desert landscape, and they weren’t the only turkeys! Just So that you know, Kristin isn’t a golfer. Uncle Rudy is, and his goal for the trip is to make a golf partner in his Sag Wagon co-pilot. They are a great team!  

 

I had neglected my manscaping duties and felt like a werewolf with a hirsute coat and claws to match. I want to confess. I’m never far from a mani-pedi, and I spend an unjustifiable percentage of my time ridding myself of body hair. It was time, but 9-holes of golf wasn’t enough.

My legs and bikes were the primary priority, and even though I didn’t think they felt ignored, they required some TLC. If my drivetrain had its own Instagram account, it would be called, “Hey A-hole, Remember me?” My legs were what they were.

 

The 3-mile recovery hike felt nice. The turbulent frigid icemelt felt even nicer. I recall a debate about who had gotten the first DIRT tattoo.

Moab has at least five large bike shops. Somehow I found the one “Roadie” mechanic in the town. My Chile Pepper Bike Shop experience was top-notch from start to finish and top to bottom. The shop was busier than any other I’ve seen, and they took the time to push out my work in the tiny time window I had to work with and with a smile.

 

Paul is a transplant from Asbury Park, NJ and his laid-back demeanor hid his A-type perfectionist mechanic side. I felt 100% confident that my bikes had received the care of an expert in total control of his craft in this touristy town. Thank you, Paul, and everyone at Chili Pepper!

With some time to kill, I gave Moab a chance to win back my affection after the road into town tried to kill me. It didn’t disappoint. I forgive you, Moab! I’ll be back.

Spa Moab was my next stop and the chance to put a bow on my gift to my legs and proof that they are appreciated. Theresa had skilled hands and a spiritual aura. A Sanskrit chant of protection and healing that she sensed would be appropriate to take with me on my travels was a soothing and melodic meditation.

 

After connecting, Theresa shared the belief that my spirit animal was the turtle because they are powerful and slow. I don’t know how to feel about that, but I have that going for me! Thank you, Theresa!

We went directly to the source for our final stop of the day. I had the opportunity to sample several Moab Brewery IPAs as I’ve worked my way across the country, and they’ve been some of the best.

 

The food and brews were fantastic! Nice to know that they get it! Thank you, Moab Brewery!  

 

No riding! Plenty of fun! I’m tired from my rest day!

 

Next stop, Fruita, CO!

To support Chris in his effort to raise awareness of The DIRT Dad Fund, the non-profit he created to assist members of the worldwide cycling community, check out this link to learn more. 


Find out where you can pledge a donation and subscribe to The ZOMs newsletter to follow along on the journey. 

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