MUnifest 2009
Mountain unicyclists gather in Moab, Utah, with one thing to celebrate and two pedals to turn it
Though jetlagged, Bernard Arnade still grinned as he explained his love for something that most people don't even
know exists: mountain unicyling. It began seven years ago, when the now 60-year-old Parisian spotted a unicycle at a
shop near his home. It intrigued him, so he bought it, even though he didn't have a lick of experience on it. For two
months, he got up an hour early and taught himself how to ride the thing. Now, he likes taking it out on trails and
surprising animals and people as he goes. No matter who he meets, he gets a reaction.
"A lot of people, they smile at you, and it's a great, great way to meet people," he said, with his French lilt.
"It's so unusual."
The recent Moab MUni Fest (March 27-29) was ripe with stories like this. Though their tires and frames were tough and
aggressive, the mountain unicyclists seemed an easygoing bunch.
Arnade was one of about 200 who filled Moab's parks, streets and trails during the gathering, which lasted three days
at the end of March. In its 10th year, the celebration is the biggest one of its kind, anywhere. While no one had
come quite as far as Arnade to attend, so many cyclists had stories that were just as fascinating and improbable as
his - and usually endearing.
"It was love at first sight," said Timothy "Paco" Hadley.
The 31-year-old Provo resident was a teenager when he saw his first unicycle whizzing by him, and in that moment he
knew he had to try one. After years of taking to the trails near his old home of Eugene, Ore., he has realized he
wasn't the only mountain unicyclist around. During the fest, he was happy for the company.
"It really is a sense of camaraderie," he said. "You're just trying to stay up, and if you don't make something,
you're just cheering for the next person, to hope they can make it down a section."
Irene Genelin, 24, made unicycling sound just as nurturing. She called unicyclists "friendly" and "welcoming" and
described how, when she was 11, she became enamored with unicyling after seeing it in a parade in her hometown of New
Brighton, Minn. Soon after, she picked up the skill at a class. Mountain unicycling came six years ago. She has since
participated at national and international competitions and even met her husband, Andy Cotter, while one-wheeling. It
all started when the two Twin Cities Unicycle Club members did a pairs routine together. They've been coming to the
MUni Fest for years now.
Two years ago, about six miles out on the Slick Rock Trail, Kotter proposed. Genelin, who hadn't seen that coming at
all, spent the whole ride back gushing to everyone she saw.
"He didn't even tell anyone he was thinking of proposing, so he had to do a Wikipedia search to figure out what
finger to put the ring on," she said, sweetly.
She then showed off the aforementioned bling. In gold, there was a tiny seat and a post and a diamond where a wheel
would go. It was a unicycle, in miniature.
"And that made it even more special," she said.
Of course, not every attending cyclist's tale was quite that dramatic. Sterling Deitrick, 18, of Brigham City, Utah,
had started nine months ago because he saw a friend ride a unicycle to school. Michael Wilson, 12, had only been
riding two months and began after glimpsing a unicyclist at a skate park. As far as he knows, he's the only one of
his kind in Bayfield, Colo. Carl Arthur, 28, of Provo began unicycling to keep up with friends at his college
juggling club. He continues it now because it makes him feel good.
"I enjoy it because it gives me courage I didn't think I had," he said.
All these riders were part of the huge, makeshift family that tumbled down steep trails and slid precariously across
smooth expanses of rock together. It was strange and fun and breathtaking to watch but to organizer Rolf Thompson is
was something else, as well. It was the end of an era. After 10 years of creating the event, the 52-year-old Sandy,
Utah resident is stepping down. So, unless someone else decides to take the reins, this year's MUni Fest was its
last. And Thompson is OK with that. He's ready for the red tape and stress of doing this to end. He's ready to simply
enjoy unicycling with his own family again. Five of his six kids are into the sport.
"But on the other side, what are we going to do next year at this time?" he asked. "We'll probably come down and
unicycle."
It's hard to imagine the rest of the "muni" community won't tag along.
Stina Sieg is a freelance writer and photographer originally from the San Francisco Bay Area. She loves Moab, her new home, and can be reached at stinawork@gmail.com.
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