I remember being a kid and the joy my bike brought me. It was my main mode of transportation, from piano lessons to the gas station for a summertime treat. I rode as fast as I could around the park where I grew up in Eagle Mountain and learned the consequences when I flew over my handlebars for the first time. There were mountain bike races, long fundraising road rides and evening rides around the town in the summer.  When I went off to college, I was gifted a new bike, an exciting upgrade from the mountain bike I had in middle school. During my sophomore year, I crashed on the way to class and broke my knee. In the years since then, I’ve found reasons not to ride: Not strong enough, bad weather, no bike lanes, too busy with classes, etc. A few weeks ago I decided there weren’t any more excuses and signed up for the Summit Challenge with the National Ability Center.  For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to sign up for the 25-mile loop. I don’t think I’ve gone on a ride that long since I was 14. My thought process was something like, “I can do 10 miles on a stationary bike in the gym, no problem. How much harder can this be?” Actually, it was a lot harder. The Summit Challenge is an annual fundraiser for the National Ability Center. This weekend marked 20 years of the fundraiser. Through donations and registration costs, the center raised over $183,000 this year. The funds contribute to the general mission of the National Ability Center, to provide opportunities for adaptive recreation for people with disabilities.   Like everything the nonprofit does, the ride is centered on inclusivity and accessibility.  Riders take off from the starting line on a two-person side-by-side recumbent bicycle at the National Ability Center’s annual Summit Challenge bike ride in Park City. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park RecordVictor Villarreal (left) and Dustin Johnson (right) warm up before the ride on Victor’s recumbent bike named “Tonios Cool Red Bike” after his son Antonio. Antonio was previously a member of the National Ability Center. Victor and Dustin rode together at the annual Summit Challenge bike ride in honor of his son, who was close friends with Dustin. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park RecordRiders participating in the 16 mile course take off from the starting line during the National Ability Center’s annual Summit Challenge bike ride in Park City. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park RecordHandcyclists celebrate in the rain as they make the final push to the finish line during the National Ability Center’s annual Summit Challenge bike ride in Park City. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park RecordRiders pose for a photo during a rainstorm after crossing the finish line at the National Ability Center’s annual Summit Challenge bike ride in Park City. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park RecordKaitlyn Cowley (right) and Teague Cowley (left) make the final climb toward the finish line during the National Ability Center’s annual Summit Challenge bike ride in Park City. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park Record On the day of the ride, I saw so many different kinds of bikes, each designed to fit its riders’ needs. I have a moderate understanding of adaptive equipment, but this weekend I learned about a new one: the tandem bike.  The morning before, I had breakfast with the Daring Sisters, a group of blind and low-vision women. The group is based in Utah with members all over the world. They host retreats at the National Ability Center, but this was the first time many participated in the Summit Challenge. They ride tandem bikes, many with their partners as pilots, through the challenge. “I wanted connection in meaningful ways and wanted to be active,” said Becky Andrews, the founder of the group. All of the women experience a form of vision impairment. Some can see colors, some have their peripheral vision and others have a small field of vision directly ahead. There’s a mix of congenital and progressive conditions, too.  “Regardless of the eye condition, there’s a shared experience,” said Daring Sister Nicole Kass. One of those experiences, Nicole said, is “a lot of assumed ‘You can’t.’” I wish everyone could see how much these Daring Sisters proved that assumption wrong.  Kass and her partner said they’re still mastering the art of the tandem bike, but they completed the 16-mile loop on Saturday and ended the day with smiles.  Riders from the Daring Sisters group after the 2026 Summit Challenge. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park Record Gina and Scott Meredith from Erda in Tooele County are without a doubt tandem pros. Gina is experiencing progressive vision loss. She can still ride a bike by herself, but she said it takes so much to focus on the road that it’s not fun. I asked her what it’s like riding the tandem bike with her husband. Immediately and without hesitation, she responded: “Freeing.” “With Scott on the front, I can enjoy cycling again,” Gina said. I had the chance to talk to another adaptive rider, Emma Paden, the day before the race.  Paden works as an instructor at the National Ability Center and as an adaptive trail assessment program coordinator for the Mountain Trails Foundation. She rides a Bowhead RX, a three-wheel hand-pedal bike.  For those unfamiliar with this bike, check it out. It’s a really cool bike. The size and suspension make it feel much more like a traditional two-wheel mountain bike. It’s safer to ride and opens up more terrain because of its design. Paden has been an instructor at the National Ability Center for a few years, but about a year ago she acquired a spinal cord injury and is now an adaptive athlete herself.  Before the accident, Paden enjoyed biking, but her primary interests were climbing and running. It’s harder to do those things from a wheelchair, so lately she’s turned to biking to get outside and explore trails and solve puzzles like she did before.  “It’s important for me to do this for my quality of life,” she explained.  Paden rides with the National Ability Center’s para off-road cycling team. The team challenges each other by going on difficult rides together and entering competitions.  “It’s easy with an individual sport like cycling (to become competitive), but instead we try to stay together, push each other and support each other,” Paden said. “Being competitive isn’t as important as staying together.” The para off-road cycling team planned to ride the 100-mile loop, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them. Gina and Scott were riding 25-mile loop, so I decided to stick with them. I started out the ride with the Merediths and Cassidy Craige, a program specialist at the National Ability Center. I’d talked my dad into joining the ride, along with two of his old cycling buddies. One of his friends, Linde Smith, was a semi-pro cyclist until he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis about 20 years ago. He was riding a gravel e-bike on Saturday. The skies were gray and rain loomed as we geared up to start the ride. Of course, we all had concerns about riding in the rain, but more importantly, we wanted to dodge the thunderstorms.  Craige had an eye on the radar, and I was nervously counting the time between flashes of lightning and the loud claps of thunder. Group of cyclists riding at the beginning of the 2026 Summit Challenge. Credit: Photo courtesy of Wade Mattinson It sprinkled at the beginning of the ride, and the foothills around the Round Valley trails looked like a scene from “The Lord of the Rings.” Less than 5 miles in, brakes were screeching, my shoes were full of water and the glitter Craige and I had on our faces had washed off.  The heavy rain came in a few rounds throughout the morning. The lightning was never too close to our group. Overall, being cold and wet was preferable to the extreme heat earlier in the week. Around mile 7 or 8, the rain let up and we hit the first major elevation increase of the route. The Merediths and Craige rode ahead, but I had to stop. My dad and his friends stayed back. Once we started riding again, I was trying as hard as I could to push through the hill. I was about to hit the “puke factor” from the physical exertion.  About halfway up the climb, I felt a hand on my back and got a burst of speed as my dad pushed me up the hill. Then there was more speed as his friend gave him a push, and again, as Smith joined the chain.  There were a few more times throughout the ride where I needed to borrow energy to get through the climbs.  “It’s amazing what a little help can do,” I heard. Paden said something that was on my mind throughout the whole ride on Saturday. “Before, I was seeking freedom, joy and peace in outdoor recreation, like so many people do,” she said. “After the accident, those doors closed. They were suddenly gone.”  She added, “(Since then) biking has been one of the most consistent forms of freedom.”  While I was riding on Saturday, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Gina and Paden both said biking gives them freedom. The National Ability Center embodies this connection between “help” and “freedom” through everything it does.  Those two things mean something different to everyone.  In my life, freedom is being able to push back against the things that kept me off my bike. And the help getting there came from riding with familiar faces and borrowing strength. Smith’s e-bike helps him have the freedom to ride as he did before his MS diagnosis. For Gina, freedom is riding with confidence and joy, and the help comes from her partnership with her husband. Paden finds freedom when she’s challenging herself outdoors and her help comes from her Bowhead RX bike.  The Summit Challenge was without a doubt a challenge for me. But I’ve never been more ready to get back on my bike and experience the joy and freedom I felt on Saturday. Maggie Mattinson and her dad, Wade Mattinson, at the 2026 Summit Challenge. Credit: Christopher Reeves/For The Park Record The post What I learned from the National Ability Center’s Summit Challenge appeared first on Park Record. ...read more read less