Head for the Hills!!!!

Yes, the weather has turned from a seemingly endless autumn to the crisp air of fall. The trees are beautifully emblazened with melon, yellow, russet and orange. So, what is one to do? Get on a bike and tour the mountains, of course!!

Well I naievely took a little run through the woods on my antique mountain bike and instantly thought "Hey, I could do this!" I was riding at the foot of the Allamuchy range, alone, during down time at a music festival. The trails were narrow and a bit hilly. There were roots to ride over and some rocks to do battle with. There was one curve that was perilously close to a 20 or so foot near drop-off. I was living dangerously! Completing my chosen loop, I had to climb a fairly steep part of the trail that was littered with loose gravel and rocks. I breezed through the rest of the course like a seasoned pro.

I emerged worked, damp and happy. Hey, if this is what it's all about, I'm on top of it!

The next week, while searching for rides, I had linked to a page about a mountain bike race not too far from my home. I loved the idea! You see, they had a class for beginner women in multiple age brackets... heck, I could do that! Remember, you don't HAVE to win... completing is as much an accomplishment as placing. Right?

SO, midweek, before the race, I go to the place where they're going to hold it. I park near the only other vehicle in the lot and head out on a supposedly well marked trail. It's a wide path, some bumps and rocks and stuff to go around. I climb a hill and cross another path. I go down a hill. It's pretty darned bumpy littered with rocks. What do I know?... maybe these courses are supposed to be like this. I ride past a hugely steep incline and drop off that pummels down into a ravine. Some of the road here seems to be missing and recently replaced. I go down another incline. The road is incredibly bumpy and covered with rocks. I'm bouncing around so much my eyes seem to be twirling in their sockets, I can't focus, I can't even see the road. It's like the time you drank so much in college that the room spun and everything you saw was in threes and fours... The night you swore to God you'd never drink again if He'd only let you live. Yea, it was like that, only without the nausea. This was insane and not in a good way!

I tell you, it was like riding a dry river bed! You ever walk a river bed? The best one I ever did was in Yosemite, we climbed Bridal Veil Falls to the lowest catch pool. We had to climb and scurry over countless boulders and past signs that listed the statistics of how many serious injuries occur right there by foolish people like us. Now, imagine riding a bike down it.

Okay, so the bike trail wasn't quite that bad but it was close and it was all rocks. There were thousands of larger than grapefruit, baseball and apple sized massess mingled with walnut and grape sized rocks. I was going downhill with the same downhill advantage I have on the road(not too cool here) and bouncing around so much I couldn't see straight while fighting the brakes to slow down or stop or do something while trying to decide which blurs to ride on and which to avoid. When I finally did pull to a stop I looked at the road ahead. More of the same rocks, more incline and a bend. What are you nuts? I've got to be on the wrong path. This HAS to be for ATV's.

I went back up the hills to where the road crossed and re-read the signs. There's a picture of a bike on an arrow. The road I was on had a picture of a knobby tired thing that looked more like a motorcycle and had a figure with a full face-masked helmet. I don't know... I do better with words than pictures, I guess.

So I followed the new trail and went up a gravelly and rocky incline where I didn't shift properly and lost momentum. I clipped out of my pedals but wasn't able to catch myself as I fell hard on the uneven ground. To add interest, I fell on a good incline and the momentum of falling back threw my feet over my head and I did a complete backwards somersault, planted my feet and stood up... and the crowd cheered! ...I was thankfully alone and nobody witnessed it.

I continued the trail to a place where it split and couldn't tell which way to go. After a little contemplation, I went right and eventually came upon a place called Thunder Mountain. It had rusty things in a yard, fencing and "Keep Out" and "No Tresspassing" signs all over. It looked a bit like what I might imagine a paintball range to be like but there were no paint spatters. Deserted and alone, with one flickering neon sign in the window, it felt a bit more sinister. It was on an old road, but I had no idea where I was, where it would lead or if it went anywhere at all. Time to head back.



On the way back I managed to pick up a sizeable stick in my spokes while I was barely rolling. It's a good thing I was going slow, I kicked out quickly and stopped as it slammed into my ankle and drew just a little blood. This was the kind of thing that would throw a rider over the handlebars without warning. Now the bike was essentially stabbed through the heart... shall I take it as an omen?

When I got back to the lot, the guy parked next to me was changing out of his sweaty shirt and loading his bike in his truck. I had seen his fresh tire tracks in a few places on the trails but not enough to track him and tell which route was good for riding. It had just started to drizzle...

"Looks like we got out just in time.", he said. I replied, "Ride here often?" ;-)

He said he was coming for the race on Sunday. I told him I was here to try it out and see if I should enter the race. My decision was a resounding no. I did not have the right tool for the job. If the race was on the trail I rode, I needed a newer bike with shocks, not a 17 year old model with no bounce. He agreed but said I should try it anyway... "the people are so supportive". And heck, I was out here doing it... nobody else was.

Well as things do, it ate at me. By Saturday, I was convinced that if I didn't try, I'd kick myself about it till next year. Sunday morning I hemmed and hawed and efficiently wasted enough time that I arrived too late to register for the beginner class race. So, I did the next best thing, I volunteered!

That was a great move!
I stood at the Start/Finish point with a group of race organizers and wrote numbers and times as racers completed their laps. I saw them coming down a nasty deer trail thingy they called single track. It was NOT something I'd ever want to do on the bike I had. In fact, nearly all of them had these souped up bikes with shocks and springs and floating suspension... the right tools for the job! A few had single speed(one gear, no shifters) bikes, but they went out in a class of their own(they seemed a bit nerdy, kinda like tandem bikes seem nerdy) I saw how the race and the ride worked and got to know a few of the important people while saving my butt from certain injury. A good day!

I left happy that I didn't race but wanting to try that kind of riding. I still had no idea what the entire course was like as I only saw one small section but with the right bike for the job... I'd be more than ready to try.