Like Lewis and Clark

I finally did it.
I went on a ride with a couple of die-hard mountain bikers.
We intended to ride in Ringwood, but had to go south to Allaire State Park to escape the snow, ice, mud and rain of northern Jersey.
It was well worth the trip.

Joe hoisted my old bike onto the roof of his zippy red Mazda and strapped it into the rack. His well-equipped, well-heeled bike eyed mine up and down in obvious distaste, questioning where we might be taking them together. Joe's bike was clearly ready to chew up roots and dirt and rocks and mountains while mine looked like it just wanted a good nap against a park bench, better yet, a final trip to the junkyard.

In the car on the way down, Joe and I talked about biking and music and motivation and inspiration and tons of other stuff that made the ride very comfortable and quick. When we got to the park, Charlie was waiting for us.

Instantly like-able, Charlie is quite a picture with his blazing pure white hair and beard. And don't be fooled by all that white stuff, he may not look like he's on the fast side of 50, but he's got the engine of a mountain lion.

We geared up and ducked in onto the trail. It was like entering the Amazon. Secretive and wild all around, we hopped onto a trail that was barely twelve inches wide. Within seconds we were roaring and banking over roots that felt like a series of steps going down into a ravine. Wow, it was one hell of an introduction into the land of trail riding. In retrospect, it was a great beginning and one that I'd love to hit again, but I didn't expect that kind of stuff to come so early and so fast. I think it was put there just to scare the timid and adventure challenged back into their cars. Then it smoothed out.

We zipped along riding through twisty tight trails and freshly cut single-track amid the trees. Though these trails didn't have the rocks and some other nasty stuff I'd seen in Ringwood, they certainly required concentration and good handling skills at these speeds. Without deadly rocks to deal with, we were able to ride much faster here, but navigating the trees and turns while keeping the bike on the four inches of real rideable surface took a bit of time to get comfortable with.

And just as I was building confidence with the ride, my bike began to fail. First, my chain hopped off, easy enough to fix. Then the rear tire migrated against the frame and stopped rolling. I had pulled the smooth comfort tires off the bike and replaced them with knobbys last week and tightened everything back up. Good enough for the road, it just wasn't tight enough for slamming through the woods. Good thing I had tossed both the wrench and my bike tool in my pouch the night before. If I hadn't, my ride would have been over right then.

We ran through the woods on some more ups and downs where these guys made me feel old and weak. For my own defense, I typically take at least a half hour to really warm up into my stamina mode. Then we hit some obstacles. We sailed over logs and log pyramids and some intimidating drops where you basically ride your bike down a terribly steep incline on a ten foot drop with a four inch margin for error. If you're lucky and do it right, you sail down and back up the next incline prepared to do it again. I was way lucky. And I was having fun. I got more and more daring and then I hit the seat after a jump and it budged. After a while it loosened some more. We had to stop so I could tighten it.

Riding again, we eventually came out of the woods and ended up on a part of the trail that was inverted. Here, instead of riding in a ravine with walls of dirt on either side, we were riding as if along the spine of a dragon. The trail was barely more than a foot wide, less in some areas, and had sloping 4-6 foot drop-offs on either side. Now, that really made me suck my breath in quick. It was like the scene from the "Lord of the Rings" series where they cross a chasm that extends straight into hell on a single path of floating rocks. It surely wasn't the place to screw up. And it was something I'd never have attempted if I didn't have the guys riding comfortably and confidently ahead of me.

It really was way cool and a heck of a lot fun until my seat had loosened so much it was like riding a rocking chair. It tilted all the way up, then all the way down and wouldn't remain stable for anything. It made riding along a razor-backed area(or anywhere else for that matter) a little less than fun.

We tightened it up again as much as we could. It seemed done for, the metal stripped. Undaunted, we rode more, back on trails while I sat gingerly in the saddle. I had to hop off the bike a half dozen times from the chain jumping off the inside and getting jammed in the crankset(something I wouldn't have to battle with a newer bike).

I had a blast back on twisty trails that turned and ran back against themselves. And then it was over. We arrived in the parking lot. We were out on the trails for more than 3 1/2 hours of fun that went by quickly... but obligations of the real world called... specifically, from her brother's hockey game. Oh yea, I guess people might be looking for me to care for them. In our state of bliss among wooded trails, it was very easy to forget the rest of the world.

We stopped for the obligatory burger and beer. A fine tradition for sure, where we recapped the ride, laughed and chided and talked about rides to come.

On the way home, Joe questioned my thoughts on why more people don't try mountain biking. I think it takes a certain personality(possibly one lacking sense) to venture into difficult terrain alone. I think more people would try it if they felt they could be led or shown how to do it, if it were more accessible to the average person. I waited a long time to have someone finally bring me in and show me around. If I hadn't been so determined to try it out myself, it may have been a quickly passing desire. But for me, a passing desire, it's not. I'm looking forward to going out there again on a more capable bike.

Sharing good times with friends is one of the best releases from daily stress and riding is one of the best times I can think of. It's a private experience as much as a shared one since everybody takes their own motivations and perspective into a ride and gets their own rewards out of it.

What does this mean for you? I'm hoping you might want to join me on a ride, on the road or in the woods. Beginner or not, we'll find the right pace and groove for you. If you like, I'll hook you up with some great people like Joe and Charlie who really enjoy sharing the fun.

Don't be shy. You know how to reach me.

Sandie