Reacting to a Worthless Trail

 So what do you do when your luck runs out, on a ride or trail? You have to react somehow.

My last mountain bike route was terrible. It was nothing but loose rubble and steep arroyo crossings, with large rocks in the two-track ruts.

It was fairly easy to do the most important thing: stay uninjured. I don't feel too much of the young-male-ego thing. Even more, I am not going to risk injury on something as contemptible as Arizona rubble. So I pushed the bike for a half-hour through the rocky crap.

So why even be here? Marvelous cool temperatures, no insects, no rattlesnakes, and sunny skies. (I said 'cool', not cold.)

 

One  good thing about pushing a bike is that you are moving slow enough to notice certain things, like this dead cactus. I don't know how it got hollowed out.

 

Closeup of the photo above.

The metamorphic rocks grabbed my eyes, but the photos of them were not interesting. I don't know why.

There was an intense struggle for life around here, sometimes successful:

One of these days, now...

And other times, not so successful:

At other times the ongoing struggle is so easy to sympathize with:

How do they manage to survive in this gawd-forsaken place?

Even though the day seemed like a failure, things can be failures on a (short term) tactical level, and successes on a strategic (over-all) level.

For instance, if I can be a good sport about having a down day, and practice patience in this gawd-forsaken pile of rubble, won't my enjoyment become more intense when I get to the grasslands of southeastern Arizona?