Discovering Santa Clara’s Barrel Roll Trail

It was the report of good rock climbing that lured my husband and me to the St. George, Utah, area. But we'd also heard there were good trails there as well, so, almost as an afterthought, Rich and I strapped mountain bikes to the truck.

It was the Easter holiday, and the specific place we'd come to climb was colder and more difficult than we expected. We moved the scene of adventure closer to town, to a neighborhood called Santa Clara, for more forgiving sandstone climbing on shorter and sunnier walls. There, even the other climbers we met radiated the warmth of welcome.

Riding our bikes seemed a good way to finish such an excellent day, and some of St. George's deservedly well-known trails began calling to us. But we voiced aloud our reluctance to try them on a holiday weekend, with its potential for crowds.

That's when some local climbers overheard us and told us about the Santa Clara River Trails. They pointed south, toward an area so close I'd been commenting on its beauty, with majestic green mesas and swirling rock faces.

"The area is pretty new," one said. "Not in any guidebooks, so it shouldn't be crowded. Single track with easy climbing on switchbacks, with a downhill finish. And it's only 10 minutes away." We thanked them and fairly ran to our truck, eager to unleash the bikes.

The area was easy to find, since it was just outside the town of Santa Clara and across the street from an important local landmark, the Jacob Hamblin Home. We crossed the Santa Clara River and turned left onto a steep dirt road. Shortly we could not even see the town, though we were still near it. Expansive mesas sprang up from black patina cliffs, wildflowers colored the canyons below, and dirt roads directed us to our destination. We were now in the Santa Clara River Preserve, yet also in the Santa Clara city limits. The reserve is a protected area, keeping it beautiful and natural, but mountain biking is allowed.

We passed a large water tower and entered the wood-fenced parking area. Just as the locals had predicted, the parking lot was empty. We were the only riders there.

The clouds were magnificent, bubbling up all around us and possibly threatening rain. It was nearing sunset, but we had just enough time to ride the six-mile intermediate Barrel Roll Trail. The temperatures were ideal, the scenery gorgeous, and it was very quiet.

Snapping our helmets on, we sped off, heading west. There are two trails that take off from the parking area, The Barrel Roll Trail is for mountain biking and The Black Brush Trail for horseback riding and hiking (though rumor has it bikes travel The Black Brush Trail, too). There are also several other trails that branch off the Barrel Roll and are indicated with obvious signage, offering any number of ride combinations and mileages.

Off we went on perfect, smooth, single-track trail, winding and twisting its way uphill. Vibrant red Indian paintbrush dotted the landscape and lined the trail.

In the distance, to the north, the setting sun shone on the red, Navajo sandstone cliffs -- some of which we'd just been climbing. Above those were the Pine Valley Mountains with patches of snow. It's insufficient to note that the landscape was a combination of red, yellow, white, brown, orange and green. These basic colors came in all the variety of a rich kid's Crayola box.

Just as I started to get winded from the gentle but vigorous uphill, we arrived at a cliff edge. We stopped to eat a snack. We looked over the cliff at large, dark, black boulders in the lush desert valley below. And just then, a California condor -- North America's largest bird, and one of its rarest -- came soaring over us. We watched it riding the breezes for several minutes before jumping back on the bikes.

We were soon led downhill, riding close to the cliff edge; still overlooking the black boulders nestled in the grasses below us. At that point, the trail has some big rocks, and we walked our bikes over some, tried to ride some, and I fell attempting to mount still others. The trail wrapped around a hillside, and then the difficult section was over and we started toward the car.

The views changed with the turns of the trail as we zoomed downhill. The sun was getting lower, so we were happy to be moving faster. We'd already taken in the views and now were thinking "food." We passed the turn-off for the start of the loop and made it to the car just before dusk.

It was the perfect end to our trip. We got to ride an intermediate, single-track ride, close to town, with incredible views and there were no other bikers on the trail. Next, a steak dinner. You can get that in several places in Southern Utah, but none ever tasted better than the one following that memorable ride.