UTAH'S SLICKROCK TRAIL: ONLY SEASONED BIKERS NEED APPLY.

Byline: Gerry Volgenau Knight-Ridder Tribune News Wire

My daughter Teresa warned me I was going to be frustrated on this trip.

``Get used to it,'' she advised.

Teresa, a 22-year-old senior at the University of Utah in Salt Lake City, is a serious mountain biker. And she offered this advice as we were about to start Moab's famous Slickrock mountain biking trail.

But ``getting used to it'' was not what I had in mind. I arrived in Utah feeling pretty darned fit and confident about this mountain-biking business.

As it turned out, I was wrong on both counts - too confident and not quite fit enough. What's more, I managed to wrap up my performance with something bikers call an ``endo.''

Moab is the mecca of mountain bikers. Tens of thousands of mountain bikers - those of sinewy thighs and knobby-tired bikes - come here each year from around the world.

``Moab has an almost religious or mystical attraction for mountain bikers,'' said Nelson Pena, executive editor of Mountain Bike Magazine.

Riders - 102,200 of them in 1994 - come because this chunk of high desert is spectacularly beautiful. Wind and water have sculpted the red rocks into dramatic formations that set loose the imagination - arches, druidic faces, animals. It is home for Arches National Park; it's where the Colorado River begins to seriously scour away the desert land before dipping down into the Grand Canyon.

But the principal allure for tubby-tire cyclists is the 12.6-mile Slickrock Trail, which Pena called ``one of the toughest mountain bike trails in America.''

Slickrock is not slippery, as the name might suggest. It's hard, red sandstone with soft contours like a petrified sand dune. Bike tires grip well on it. And the route has more ups and downs than a heart monitor.

The ups leave your legs wailing - if you stay on the bike. Some inclines are just too steep for many riders, so they tumble off and then are forced to to push their 21-speeders the top. As for the downs, I coined my own acronym: GGIGD (pronounced ``gigged,'' short for Good Grief, I'm Gonna Die).

``I've been mountain biking for a while, and this is the first time I've thought that walking is not only more efficient, it's faster,'' one 20-something, Lycra-clad rider on the trail said.

Moab, a town of 5,000, is basically a tourist community - a strip of fast-food places and motels mixed in with some nifty shops and original restaurants. And it manages to support three bike shops.

In the 1870s, Moab was little more than a sleepy community for fruit-growing farmers. It got some fame in 1949 when Hollywood director John Ford came to shoot his western classics amid the spectacular scenery. Moviemakers have been coming back ever since. The Apache Motel even advertises that John Wayne slept there.

The boom came in the mid-1950s. Uranium was discovered. Mining supported the town for most of the next 30 years. Then in the mid-1980s, just as Moab seemed ready to crumble back into the slag and dust, mountain bikers discovered Slickrock riding and the area's startling beauty.

``It was never planned,'' said Russell Von Koch, recreational planner for the Bureau of Land Management. Growth of mountain biking ``just took off by word of mouth and numerous magazine articles.''

With so many riders, the chances of mishaps on the trails have skyrocketed. Grand County now has the highest number of search-and-rescue missions - 84 from January through August 1995 - of any county in Utah, Von Koch said.

Still, while I'd done no technical mountain biking, I felt pretty sure of myself. I had ridden my skinny-tired road bike on a ``century'' - 100 miles in one day - in July. On Saturdays, I'd knock off 40 or 50 miles easily. So how tough could this be?

I can just hear veteran mountain bikers snickering behind their fingerless gloves.

It turns out that riding a road bike is no training at all for technical mountain biking. The vehicle is similar, but the sport is very different. What's more, riding Slickrock is unlike any other mountain biking.

On my first ride, I must have come off my rented mountain bike more than 40 times. I pushed the bike; I carried it, swore at it and even rode it some. By the end, I was soaked with sweat, gasping for breath and my shin was leaking blood.

And that was on the 2.3-mile practice run.

The whole thing took me about an hour. On my second loop, I took only about half an hour and only came off my bike a dozen or so times. Better, but certainly not star quality.

It wasn't until the next day that I performed an ignominious endo. On a steep descent, my bike hit a protruding rock lip and I pitched over the front. One second, I was trying to hang off the back of my seat and brake the rear wheel; the next second I was sprawled out on the rock.

The look on Teresa's face was sheer horror. ``Dad? Are you all right?'' There I was smashed on the rock - her mentor, her confidante, the payer of her college tuition.

I was OK. Just a slightly sprained wrist, some rock rash down my back and a shattered ego that has yet to mend.

Meanwhile, Teresa - who had dusted me on the practice trail - pedaled off on the main, 12.6-mile trail.

If I didn't realize it before, Teresa is in a whole different class of mountain biking - not only from me, but from almost everybody else I saw there.

Later, I asked Von Koch about the Slickrock Trail.

``How long does it take an average ride to complete the trail?'' I asked.

``About five hours,'' he said.

``And how long for someone who is very, very good? A hot rider?''

``About 2-1/2 hours.''

Teresa rolled in after just over two hours.

I promised to practice before I came out west again.

On Location Moab has trails for all levels of riders. The desert scenery is spectacular - almost bottomless canyons, weird rock formations, dramatic mesas, pictographs left by the Anasazi Indians.

You can bring your own bike or rent one in Moab. Most airlines charge about $50 to ship a bike; a local bike shop will put it in a box for $15 or so. Moab town has three bike shops, and they also offer guided tours. Rental prices for good bikes start at about $25 a day with special five- and seven-day rates including water bottles, helmet, patch kit, pump and an extra tube. Or you can rent in Salt Lake City and do some biking along the route. If you expect to ride trails, don't bring your narrow-tired road bike or your combi-bike with its thin knobby tires.

This part of Utah has no shade. So bring lots of water, bandages and aspirin. And slather on SPF-15 lotion. Wear your helmet. Get a map, read it before you ride and stay on the trail. Check your bike before leaving. Don't ride alone. And let someone know where you are going before you pedal off.

A rider's best book bet is ``The Mountain Biker's Guide to Utah'' by Gregg Bromka (Menasha Ridge Press and Falcon Press, $14.95), with maps and descriptions of 80 rides, including those in Moab. You can pick it up at most bike shops and bookstores in Utah.

For more information, call Moab/Canyonlands Central Reservations at [phone].

CAPTION(S):

Photo, Box

Photo: Teresa Volgenau takes a break from breathtaking mountain bike riding at the top of Negro Canyon, along Utah's Slickrock Trail. This one is not for novice riders.

Gerry Volgenau

Box: On Location (See text)