Alright, so I didn't bring my bike with me on this trip to Moab.  Who needs a stinking bike anyway?  I had my trail shoes!

Last night, Susan and I debated for an hour what we should do for a morning run.  As we sat in our quaint little "Apple Celar" room at Sunflower Hill Inn, we deliberated the pros and cons of all the old haunts.  We needed to be done early enough to take advantage of the breakfast part of our bed-and-breakfast stay, so we wanted a run that would be picturesque but not far away from town.

"We're going to be tired all day if we run too early!" I protested.

I was suggesting that we just sleep in and do a run in the afternoon after we'd completed our day sightseeing.

"You know we never want to run after a long day.  Forget it.  We're getting up at the normal time to do a run.  Now get with the program, and pick a spot!"  This was Susan's stand, and it was easy to tell that I had lost the negotiating process, and we were not going to sleep in.

Pushing the point, Susan mused, "What about that Slickrock Bike Trail that seems so popular?  That might be interesting.  It's close."

"Oh, there will be a hundred bikies by dawn!  We don't want that, do we?"  And that was the only lame excuse I had in me.  One scowl was all it took, and I folded.  It was settled.  We'd go up and try to run the Slickrock Bike Trail at 6am.  Oh!  Am I glad we did!

We arrived at about 5:55am, and there wasn't a single car in the lot.  I was shocked!  All the bikies were asleep in their tents and campers, and we had the whole stage to ourselves.  And what and incredible stage it is at sunrise!

We ran north from the the lot in the glow of first light.  As the sun slowly rose, the Navajo Sanstone began to glow as if were radioactive.  Before long, we were bathed in a warm, golden light in the still, crisp air of a classic Spring morning in Moab.  Stopping only to take a few photos, we did a fine little loop of challenging slickrock -- steep ups and downs, punctuated by small, soft sandy patches.  The colors of gold, orange, and red in the rock was accented by shimmering greenery of cedars that glowed like Christmas lights in the morning sun.

When we finished our loop, we ran abck into the parking lot to find the first two cyclists clipping in for their ride.  They looked at us with an odd inquisitive stare as if to say, "What are these runners doing on the bike trail?"

I gave them a big smile and ran past them saying, "Good morning gentlemen.  We've got it all warmed up for you.  Have a great ride!"