Biking Utah's Mount Timpanogos

Author on the trail to the Big Baldy Saddle above Provo and Orem

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After passing the top of Grove Creek, the trail climbed another 700 feet or so as and headed around the North Peak. The terrain changed almost miraculously from sage brush, scrub oak, and barren rock to lush pine and aspen forest. Topping out at around 8,500 feet, the trail began to undulate regularly, climbing and descending. For several miles we would climb agonizing grunts, and immediately descend wicked luge runs with banked turns and 2-foot log drop offs.

Rejuvenated, we crossed the large drainage plain of the North Peak, climbed up the far side, and began to drop toward the Timponeeke trailhead on the north end of the backside. Before too long, we reached Julie Andrews Meadow. Really. And what a spot. From here, you could see the majestic back side of Timp, still snow-covered, Lone Peak to the north, the tops of Alta and Snowbird, and to the east lay the full expanse of the High Uintas. We felt like singing. We restrained ourselves.

Reluctantly leaving Julie Andrews Meadow behind, we descended some of the rockiest, fastest, turniest singletrack I've ever ridden. I was quickly dropped by Jeremy and Ryan, but, confident that I was the only one who knew the way, I followed at a more reasonable pace. A mile or so later, we emerged at the Timponeeke trailhead, only a few miles from the summit of the Alpine Loop road—the last of our serious climbs. We crossed the parking lot and quickly regained the singletrack. After 100 yards or so, we turned left across a stream—since heading straight would have meant entering a wilderness area and incurring the wrath of club-wielding hikers.

Sensing that we were only a few miles from the top, each of us determined not to appear weak in any way. We began a race of sorts for the summit. With only a half mile or so to go, Ryan easily peeled off the front and led the way to the parking lot at the top. From here, we simply needed to descend some terrific singletrack for about two or three miles to Aspen Grove, where we would definitely not take the Stewart Falls spur of the trail, since it is closed to bikes, and we would definitely not, after passing the falls, exit the singletrack at the Sundance ski resort. Instead, we bypassed the cool Stewart Falls section, jumped on the Alpine Loop road, and finished the ride by coasting five miles past Sundance to Provo Canyon, taking the rolling highway 5 miles down canyon back to the car.

Had we taken the Stewart Falls spur, we would have descended from the summit of the Alpine Loop on the Summit Trail through lush aspen forest over alternately buff and rocky singletrack; at Aspen Grove, we would have taken a right instead of a left, and ascended some very cool switchbacks in old-growth pines. Then we would have crossed an open field filled with wildflowers, passed by the hundred-foot-high falls, and meandered down to Sundance, right past the ski lifts, movie studios, and million-dollar condos. Only then would we have taken the Alpine Loop paved road 2 miles down to Provo Canyon and 5 miles back to the car. But we didn't do that.

During the trip down to Aspen Grove, I suffered the only mechanicals of the trip: 3 pinch flats. Apparently I was fatigued enough to have no control over my bike, and instead of bobbing and weaving in and out of the rocks and roots in my path, I had taken to riding through and over everything.

Once we entered the Alpine Loop road below Sundance, our speeds quickly maxed out between 35 and 45 mph. I was riding next to Ryan during a particularly steep straightaway, and I noticed a sudden change in the sound of his tires on the pavement. Looking over, I was surprised to find Ryan nonchalantly riding a wheelie down the road at over 40 mph. After 30 miles of ultra-steep, technical singletrack, I could barely keep my hands on my bars, and Ryan and Jeremy were whooping it up on their back wheels. The bastards.

The section of the Alpine Loop road below Sundance is the steepest 2 miles of the 40 that make up the loop. On a road bike, you can typically hit speeds in excess of 50 miles per hour without really trying. On the other hand, once you're out of the north Fork Canyon (the one leading up from Provo Canyon to Sundance), you run into the Perpetual Head Wind, which never stops blowing, and you've got 5 rolling miles left before you can exit the canyon. A nice challenge on shorter ride, but after our 8-hour day, it was more than we wanted. We limped back to the car, took a refreshing dip in the Provo River, and finished up around 2:30 p.m. Plenty of time to get home and mow the lawn.