|   I Got My Arse Kicked and Other Riding Tales | Rev Bubba
Jul 1, 2003 8:20 AM | | I Got My Arse Kicked and Other Riding Tales
7/1/03
Any body remember my story a few weeks ago asking if there would come a time when you knew you were too old for something?
Anyone?
Well, we'll get to that eventually.
Let me interject at this point that when your local area is experiencing a near biblical infestation of mosquitoes, DO NOT RIDE TRAILS WITH NAME'S LIKE "PINE SWAMP!" I did. I should not have. I will not do it again in the near future.
On to aging and facing your own mortality.
It finally stopped raining last Saturday. The sun came out. The mosquitoes came out. I came out.
I went to Mountain Creek to do some downhill. Took out the full suspension bike with the 5" of travel front and back and the big tires and the disc brakes and the bash guard. I brought the full-face helmet and the Roach pads and the meat grinder pedals and the Chuck Taylor's with attitude. Baggies with a t-shirt and full fingered and padded Fox gloves and wrap around sun glasses (prescription these days) finished the look. Yes sir, I was ready for a little "DH." Paid my $28 and put my lift ticket on the seat which was lowered as low as it could go without punching through my rear shock.
It had been two year or more since I last rode Mountain Creek and I was anxious to get reacquainted with some old friends like "Los Pantaloons." I did ride Plattekill and Mount Snow last year so "DH'ing" was not totally new to me.
Got in line with the other riders not much past the 9 am opening time. Looked like everyone else had full downhill bikes but Hell, the last time I rode here I was on a hardtail with a SID and rim brakes so how bad could it be on full suspension.
The lift got us to the top as fast as I remembered. The instant summer we were experiencing raised the temperatures rapidly as did the armor and helmet. Sucking on my Camelback I followed the signs to the easiest trails down the mountain. Riding a fire road led to a narrow path through the trees. I followed it as it wound back and forth and always down until there came the first drop off. I stopped. I mean, what else was I to do? It was about three feet. Not much by modern standards but an inkling of what was to come.
Carrying my bike over the drop I went on. The trail, at this point, was lots of fun. I had to pedal to cross a drainage pipe but nothing very technical appeared for the next ½ mile or so. I ended up on another fire road and made a left and followed the signs, always sticking to the easiest way down. There was a long day ahead of me and plenty of time to try the hard stuff.
A left took me over another pipe and back into the trees. It started to get rocky and I dabbed but kept trying. Out to yet another fire road covered with dust and loose rocks I traveled ever downward. A rider in front of me kicked up a dust cloud until the trail split. Right was easy, left was not (later on that one.). It still said this was the easy stuff but the rocks were getting bigger and the run more difficult. How did I do this on a hardtail? Another steep drop and I elected to walk again. Getting back on I crossed a field and climbed a steep path. Make a left or go straight were my options. I went left. I walked again. I got back on and came to a real live North Shore style obstacle. A man made ramp leading to a wooden drop-off. Now, for the first time, was something that not only looked intimidating but also scared me. Fall off this and you would pay a price. So I walked around it. At last I came to the trail that ran under the lift and consisted of a series of whoop-de-do's. I remembered this run-off and took full advantage of it existing the hay bales at the end and entering the queue for the lift.
Well, I thought, that wasn't too bad. At least I had nice time hiking and I was not bleeding too badly.
Back up I tried it again. Second time around it did not get any easier, nor the third time. My hands and arms were beginning to hurt from pulling on the brakes. My mind went to how much better I could ride if I had a downhill bike or at least a more aggressive Freeride machine. Sure would be easier if I had 8" all around and maybe 8" discs and slacker geometry.
But, in the back of my head and slowly working its way forward was the thought that I was really not having that much fun. I was scaring myself. That's not necessarily a bad thing because it tends to keep one alive but is that the reason we ride? Sometime it is, but all day?
I would not quit and tried some advanced trails. That was a total farce. Little of them were ridable to me and I did my best to make sure I did not impede the progress of the better riders (most everyone else on the mountain). The heat kept climbing and I drained my water. I had no problem parting with my money to get a Gatorade at the base. Keeping it up I finally flatted. Well, at least it was a valid excuse to stop at a more difficult section. Repairing the tire I worked my way down and rode to my car to pick up another spare tube. I headed back, really drained at this point, figuring I would ride out the day.
About ¾ of the way back down I had my second flat. Pumping it up instead of changing it I went on hoping it would hold to the bottom. It did and I ambled through the base area to the parking lot and rode across the street. Loading the bike on the roof I felt defeated, not jubilant. For maybe the first time in my riding career, the mountain had won. I was beat. By the time I was riding the lift the last few times I was thinking of how much more sense a road bike would make for me. Get out and ride for hours without the threat of crashing and still have the joy of the ride.
I spent Sunday morning making some modifications to the FS. Off came the big tires and the Sun Rhyno Lite wheels, replaced with lighter WTB Lasers and narrow cross-country racing tires. An Easton Carbon Monkey lite replaced the heavy riser and the meat grinders were put away to make room for a set of Times. Within a short time the bike had lost two pounds and was back to a country friendly 30 pounds. Not as light as my 23-pound hardtail but far from the 40-pound bikes I had visions of when the previous day began.
I faced my own mortality that day. Downhill is a young man's game. Sure, there are people my age who still ride this stuff and they do it often enough to have the necessary experience but I'm about done with my DH career. It is time to call it a day while I still can.
Turbo and I did a road ride later that day and it was fun. Fun being the catch phrase here. It's why we ride isn't it? If I have something to prove, it will have to be in some other areas because I am not destined to become a threat to the downhill riders of the world. |
| I'm starting to notice a trend... | airwreck
Jul 1, 2003 9:14 AM | | and it has to do with flow. I noticed it the other day when one replier commented that a person didn't know how to "make" a certain trail flow.
Are modern trails becoming more of a constant brake squeezing affair?
Especially if you are paying to ride trails(and lifts) then more care needs to be taken by the builders to create trails that actually flow.
Anyway, further fodder for a brewing rant on the virtues of flow. I don't think you should be blaming yourself or your age, but the mentality of the trail builder. |
| An interesting point for a number of reasons | Rev Bubba
Jul 1, 2003 9:54 AM | | First of all, the trails I rode at Mountain Creek were all new and I found that what MC called easier were much harder than those at either Plattekill or Mt. Snow so trail design could be part of it. Second, while many riders did ride areas I walked, there were certain section that I just set and watched the majority of people crash or bail. There was no "flow" to those sections.
I can't say this is a problem because this is a ski area that is catering to bikes with almost 12" of travel in some cases. They are not the same DH bikes ridden five years ago so the area has to build trails for it clients, not old men like me.
I do not find it a problem that I can't ride the area well, just a fact that I now accept.
There are lots of xc trails in my area that are a blast to ride and I will stick to them. |
| An interesting point for a number of reasons | Walt Dizzy
Jul 2, 2003 8:21 AM | | Your tale has a certain resonance with me. I'm an ex-triathlete trying to learn a new sport:
mountain biking. To make a long story short, after my buddy sent a link to a website
explaining what "north shore" was all about, I had to say that "the best trails in the
world" are essentially out of my reach. At 48 years old, and the main financial support for
two other people, I can't take that much risk of putting myself out of work with a big injury.
I'm having a lot of fun on the rocky/rooty trails around home, but I know I'll never work my
way up to doing the big drops and jumps that so many folks get off on. Happy trails to you,
maybe it's better to be a has-been than a never-was :^)
Walt |
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