October 14, 2013

• Same Old Trails, Same Old Fun

  An unseasonal rain storm drenched our valley last week, whetting our appetite for familiar trails rejuvenated by the moisture. The rain had come down heavily and steadily enough to restore some traction and even create some interesting ruts in the steepest sections of the Motorcycle Trails.

  There's one section of trail that doesn't get much use as it requires pushing one's bike uphill for about 100 yards, so steeply that you have to use the rut that runs the length of the trail for purchase. The reward is a descent that combines the thrill of fast sweeping single track with intermittent lock'em-up, slider, steep sections that plunge down the face of the hill. The last time we rode that section there wasn't much traction and we found it was just about more thrilling than we liked to think about. In fact, I commented that if we hadn't been riding that trail all summer, I wouldn't dare ride it at all. But, today, with the rain-softened turf, we confidently dropped over the brow of the that monster hill.

  There was only one caveat and that was a newly formed rut that meandered erratically from one side of the trail to the other. The soil was soft, so speed control wasn't the primary issue but the threat of planting a front wheel in that groove and going over the bars was definitely part of that non verbal instinct that passes for thought. At one critical crossing of the rut my front tire grabbed and I felt my rear tire threaten to pass both me and the front wheel and my latent Tourette's syndrome expressed itself. A momentary release of both brakes allowed the bike to straighten out and we accelerated to warp speed in about two nano seconds. Thanks to the super traction, I was able to regain control just before coming into the next off camber turn. I heard Sally behind me, yelping like a girl when she encountered the same rivulet. We regrouped at the fire road and, if we had been guys, would have high-fived each other. But being the ladies that we are, we merely readjusted our shorts and giggled.

  Sunday, Mike and Guy invited me to join them on the wash trails. My ass was pretty raw from the previous day's ride. I have a new saddle that, while punishing to the seat bones, is just too beautiful to give up.
  
  I decided to follow them until the pain outweighed the pleasure and then turn back. After about a mile the abraded flesh of my bottom side gave up complaining and I was able to settle into the climb.

  Guy stopped in the trail to allow a slow moving California King Snake make his way across the trail.
  
  After a few miles, I turned back for home and the guys continued to the top of the wash. I startled a beautiful roadrunner who flared his wings and ran/flew down the trail ahead of me.
  
  I rode the rest of the way home wondering what the poor people were doing..."probably sitting on something considerably more comfortable than my expensive racing saddle", I speculated.

  • 10:12 pm
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