flattened

The plan was solid - it was a good plan.  We were going to take our MTBs out to Antelope Island State Park and ride on the trails there.  The island has lots of dirt roads and hiking/biking/horseback-riding trails which run along ridgelines or follow the undulating foothills, nothing too hilly or steep or rocky or switchbacky, so I should have been able to ride them no problem.  The weather was perfect: clear and sunny, high 70s with a steady breeze.  We checked in at the visitors' center and the super-friendly ranger there talked us through our trail possibilities; we decided to try the Mountain View trail which runs the length of the island on the east side and continues past the Fielding Garr Ranch, heading towards the southern end of the island which is inaccessible to those folks in cars.  We drove a little ways down the road to the Frary Peak trailhead road where there was access to the Mountain View trail, put on our gear and jumped on our bikes.

the scenic Mountain View trail

For the first 1.4 miles it was wonderful.  Gentle terrain, a dirt path (with some sandy spots) surrounded by wild sunflowers, pronghorn antelope bounding away through the grasses and bison watching us unconcernedly as we pedaled on by.  At about 1.4 miles we stopped so H could take some photos of the picturesque path and as he laid his bike down, I heard a hissing.  "Hey," I said, "I think one of us has a flat."  We inspected our tires. Yes, one of us did have a flat, and the other of us had a flat too, and actually both of us had two flats each as our tires were simply pincushioned full of thorns.  We were each carrying a spare tube but that would have left us still with a flat tire apiece, so there was nothing to do but push our bikes back to the truck, sorely disappointed but grateful that we'd only gotten 1.4 miles out and not, say, ten.

When we got back to the truck, we started pulling thorns out.  We stopped counting when we got to 200, and that was only the big ones; our tires were still riddled with tiny thorns that will require bright light and tweezers to remove.  And we're going to have to get them all, because if we miss any at all it'll mean an automatic flat as soon as the new tube is inflated.  Like I said, we were pretty disappointed - because it would have been a great, easy ride in such a beautiful spot - but we found that a cold PBR eases the pain a little.

All. Four. Tires. Are. Flat.

We also found a party going on over at the other side of the island: the sixth annual Antelope Island Stampede Festival, which we hadn't known was even going on until the visitors' center handed us a brochure.  Hot air balloons (only in the morning, so we missed those), tons of colorful kites, live music, food vendors and a BMX bike team demo managed to keep us entertained for a while.

This guy? Doesn't have flat tires (or any fear)

In order to break up the drive home, and also continue to keep ourselves entertained and ease the pain, we dropped by Squatters for a couple of Full Suspension pale ales (they've also got a very nice seasonal bitter on tap right now, but I was going to be one and done today and the pale ale was what I went with) and some food.  There were a decent number of folks there for such an off time on a Sunday afternoon, and quite a few people were enjoying the pleasant temperatures out on the patio - always a good time at Squatters.  And there at the bar we toasted to good plans gone amok: because even we didn't get to ride like we wanted, we still got outside on a nice day in a beautiful spot, and it's hard to hate that - no matter how many thorns there are.