Under the light of the silvery moon

My blog posting as of late has been a once-a-month thing, with a recap of the previous month sometime in the first week or so. Unfortunately I didn't manage to get things together early in November, and neglected to post. So, under the 'better late than never' heading here is an update.

September was a pretty good month for riding, as I tried to meet a mileage challenge of 200 miles (which I managed to beat by 10 miles or so). But in trying to get more miles I rode less singletrack and more road/rail trail. Any type of riding is good, but I do consider myself to be more of a mountain biker, so sacrificing time on the dirt to rack up numbers didn't seem like a very good idea to me. So in October I tried to get my bike time on dirt if possible, rather than more miles on the rail trail. The monthly mileage total was only 150 miles in 16 rides, but 8 of those rides were on the dirt. For me that's not too bad, especially considering that my bike was out of service for several days in the middle of the month. I also spent a bit more time on trail work, with two group days and two solo days. Fall is a great time to work on the trails up here - the mosquitoes are finally gone, and the poison ivy loses dies back a bit. My long term trail project at the county park is starting to get to a point where it provides a nice, close to home riding alternative.

One thing about riding this year has bothered me - it seems like I never have enough time to just ride until I'm tired enough that I want to stop. It's relatively easy for me to carve out regular chunks of time in the 2 hour range (my wife is very understanding of my need to get out). But it seems like my ride is always defined by the time available and not the energy I'm willing to use. Here's hoping that this situation will find some resolution in the upcoming year. One thing I could do to get in more long rides is to focus on the nearby trails, so there is less driving time and more riding time. Even though I love to get out on a variety of trails, that is something that I'm going to have to keep in mind.

The weather was pretty good during October, and I did finally buckle down and get the majority of the leaves raked in our yard. If we get one more fairly dry day above freezing I should be able to finish up - I raked 42 bags so far, so I'm guessing that there are about a dozen more to go. But today the weather is making a point of not cooperating - the forecast is for up to a foot of snow in the next day or so. As I look out my window a steady snowfall is coating the Youngstown buildings. So I'm guessing that there won't be much riding for at least a little while, since 4" is about how much I can ride through without having a major coronary.

All this riding, trail work etc could lead a person to think that I'm fantastically fit, but that is really not the case. I'm probably in as good condition as I ever have been, but the fact remains that I'm a short, slightly overweight 50 year old with a respiratory problem. So my rides aren't that impressive - either in length or in speed, and my stamina is not that great. I know that I have to keep active to stay fit, and it's become part of my lifestyle to try and get out every other day or so and get some exercise. Taking all that into consideration, I had a banner day earlier a week or so ago.

Saturday started out brisk - perfect weather for working on trails. I met with a couple of other volunteers and we spent a couple of hours cutting a new trail corridor, and bringing the tread on another section up to finish quality. Our volunteer group isn't exactly a flock of spring chickens, so we're satisfied with a relatively short trail work day. After we finished up I headed home, but rather than plopping down on the couch to recover I decided to take advantage of the clear day to rake up some more leaves. Two and a half hours later I had over 20 bags filled, and the job was past the halfway point. I was pretty tired out, and figured that I'd be pretty much exhausted for the rest of the day.

We headed out to my sisters for supper, and spent some time watching some of my Dad's slides from 50 years ago. It was just what I needed - good food and a chance to relax. Afterwards, as we drove home I couldn't help but notice how bright the full moon was, with the sky being mostly clear of clouds. Just seeing that spotlight of a moon gave me a burst of energy.

As I was driving I said to my wife, "Do you have any problem with my trying to get in a night ride at West Branch tonight?" She knows that I love night riding, and I'd told her earlier in the month that I was hoping for a good full moon ride this fall, so she gave me her blessing. As soon as we got home I packed my gear and bike into the station wagon and headed out.

The mountain bike parking lot at West Branch State Park was empty when I got there at 9:00 - no big surprise there. The sky had started to cloud up slightly as I drove out, and now there was a thin layer of clouds across the sky. But the moon was so bright that it lit up that whole area of clouds, and I could see around me almost as if it was daylight. I geared up, put the lights on the bars, and headed out without turning them on.

The pale light through the clouds was bright enough to read the trail by, thanks to the recent storm taking most of the remaining leaves off of the trees. Some places the leaves on the trail blended in with the roots and dirt, but by keeping a slow speed I could feel my way over everything. Occasionally the clouds would move so that the moon was shining through a clear spot, and then the forest would light up even more - enough that I could see my shadow on the trail ahead of me. I rode for over an hour, covering more than 6 miles of rooty singletrack, and never even turned on my lights. While I was loading the bike up I realized that I hadn't even thought about being tired during the whole ride. The magic of the surroundings had provided the stimulus, and my basic fitness had provide the ability to experience something special. Later at home, relaxing with a cold beer, I entered the day's activities on my Mapmyride account, and was surprised to see that it totaled well over 2000 calories of exercise.

As far as non-bicycling news goes, the biggest (and best) news is that it looks like business is finally picking up at work. We've had a long (loooong) dry spell between big jobs, which looks like it is going to end very soon. Too early to say definitively, but it sure looks promising. Another small tidbit of personal news - as part of the Mosquito Lake Greenway Committee, it was obvious that our area needs some sort of meeting place for bicyclists. A club would be the best thing, but I'll be double damned if I ever go through torture again. Instead, I started a Facebook page called 'Warren Bicyclists' to post local and regional bike news, and provide local riders with a place to meet each other. Obviously it could have been better timed - starting up just as the Ohio riding season is coming to an end isn't helping. But slowly it's drawing members, so that hopefully it will be useful in the spring when everyone is ready to ride again.

Of course I'm ready to ride NOW. Not looking likely, but I'm ready to go!

NOTE: Blogspot is giving me an EXTREMELY hard time putting this post together. Hopefully I will be able to edit it and add some photos soon. And thanks TJ for a nudge to get this post done.

Trail Building: Making the Move to Become Involved

Everybody that rides a bike on singletrack has probably at some point wondered about the origin of the trail that they're using. More casual trail users, such as people who might get out for a hike or ride a couple times a year, may not consider such an issue, but those of us who are out on the trail nearly every weekend have a significant relationship with the trails we frequent.

Years ago, before I started riding, I didn't really think about where the trails I walked came from. If asked I would have guessed that they were either really old trails that were still in use or that they had been built by the CCC during the depression (an idea fostered by years of hiking at Mill Creek Park). And if the issue was pressed further I would have probably said that the park rangers took care of the trails and made sure that they were safe for us to use.

Well, those ideas are somewhat off base. We do still have a number of trails in our part of the country that date back to the CCC days, but there are very few that are any older. And with decades of shrinking state park budgets the idea of park rangers spending hours maintaining trails is becoming less and less real.

The truth of the matter is that many of the trails we ride were imagined by average trail users, be they hikers or mountain bikers. These people had an idea, pushed to have their ideas accepted, and then spent the hours to make them real. Some of these projects were years in the making, and took the efforts of dozens if not hundreds of volunteers. Most of the trails we ride in this area have this history - West Branch, Beaver Creek, Reagan Park, Moraine. As riders we owe a huge debt to the people who had the vision and energy to create the trail systems we love.

Those of us who have spent hours and hours on the trails, who have gotten the enjoyment of great rides for year after year, should consider what our role is in this history. Mountain biking has seen a huge increase in popularity over the last two decades, of which a large part rides on the backs of the first generation of mtb volunteers. These are the people who took our trails from poorly built rogue trails along railroad and powerline rights of way to the well designed, sustainable trails that we enjoy today. They fought resource managers for the chance to prove that they could be a responsible user group and could make a positive impact on our parks. The amount of resistance that had to be overcome by this first generation was immense, yet they persevered. And now we get to spend our free time enjoying the fruits of their labors - great singletrack spread all across the state.

 

It's perhaps pushing things a bit to say that those who use the trails the most have a responsibility to get involved with trail building and maintenance. There is no real obligation to give something back to the things that you have gotten benefit from. But as members of a sport that wouldn't exist if not for the efforts of volunteers, its not only part of our tradition, its an investment in our own riding future. Thanks to the efforts of that first generation of mtb trail builders everyone in Ohio is within an hour or so drive of some sort of legal trail. With continued effort from today's riders we can open more trails to mountain bikes and we can create more miles of high quality, sustainable trails.
 

If you're a rider and are interested in getting involved with the trail building aspect, but hesitate because of the level of physical labor involved, consider this: it takes no more effort than an average ride, and provides an excellent cross training exercise. Plus, our trail stewards aren't there to crack the whip and make you miserable - you work at your own rate, on jobs suitable for you, and you quit when you want. Our trail work days range from two hours to five hours, depending on the weather and the task at hand. Any time that you can give to help is gratefully accepted.
 

If you're hesitant to get involved because you wonder about coming in to a tightly knit group of builders who will look down on an inexperienced newbie, you need not worry. Our trail building days have a strong social side to them, with groups of volunteers involved in conversations ranging from jokes to trail tails to environmental and political concerns. People take breaks as needed to rest, get some water or a snack, and check out the work being done by their fellow workers. The experienced builders are always willing to take time to explain the concepts behind a job and to listen to alternate ideas for any section of trail. While we do get a tremendous amount accomplished at a typical trail work day, we also have a lot of fun and get a real chance to socialize with our fellow riders and club members.
 

This may sound like a lot of the same old talk trying to get people to be involved in a cause, but there is a basic truth behind it. If we as riders don't get involved in building and maintaining our trails then they will eventually just cease to exist. We all know we don't want that - what we want is MORE and BETTER trails. And that won't happen either unless we show up and make our contribution. We can make a difference for riders in our area, and you can be a part of it. Be a trail builder. 

 

Note: This is an article I wrote for the Rust Belt Revival Trail Coalition e-newsletter that I put together every month.  If anyone out there is interested in reading these newsletters let me know through the 'comments'.

Blood, Sweat and Poison Ivy

I am a trail builder.  I like to get out into the woods, imagine a path through the trees and across the hills, and then make it real.  Of course a big part of the drive to transform a piece of wooded hillside into a contoured trail is the desire to get out on the finished product on a bike, but there is so much more to it than that.

Typically around here in northeastern Ohio trail building is done in the milder temperatures of fall and spring - even during winter months if there isn't too much snowfall.  The benefits from this schedule are many - cooler temperatures, little foliage, no mosquitoes and no interference with the summer mtb riding opportunities.  Add to that a corollary benefit - all the poison ivy is dormant - and it's easy to see why this is the widely accepted practice.

Unfortunately I'm not patient enough to wait through the whole warm season to start trail work - my fevered little mind can't help but see potential trails everywhere (and if I don't build them WHO WILL??)  So when I started as volunteer trail boss on the county park project I made it clear that I would be working all year 'round - including summer.  That means suffering through the mosquito hordes and doses of toxic repellant.  It means sweating like a dog while working in hot and humid conditions.  And to protect against the poison ivy it means wearing gloves and long pants in weather that is far more suitable for shorts.  As a bonus, at the hills of the state park project we not only have poison ivy, but also stinging nettles - an interesting plant with miniscule hollow hairs that you cannot touch without producing instant itching and burning as chemical irritants are injected into your skin. 

Not surprisingly there are far fewer volunteers that show up during the summer months.  Sometimes it's just me out there, slowly figuring out the next section and leaving new trail behind me.  But a day in the woods is almost always a good thing, so I try to head out and do some trail work every weekend, regardless of the number of other people that show up.

A trail work session usually starts with choosing the tools of the day and hauling them out to the work site.  Since I'm located in northeast Ohio, where there are no remaining large tracts of unbroken forest, this is usually a fairly short hike.  Our tools are mostly not that heavy to carry, but limiting yourself to two at a time is the safe way to go.  Or if I'm doing rock work and carrying a 40 pound, 5 foot long rock bar, then ONE tool is definitely enough. 

On my back there is always a light pack, with plenty of water, some small tools, and a first aid kit.  I've carried these small packs for so many rides and hikes that I often forget I have one on and end up working most of the day without removing it.  But with my past safety record it's an excellent idea to carry first aid, and during the summer heat I need more than one bottle of water, so forgetting the pack is not an option.  Besides, being prepared is part of the responsibility of solo adventuring.  Having the means and capability to handle unexpected situations can mean the difference between having an interesting story to tell and having a closed casket ceremony. 

It's always a great feeling hiking out to the work site from the parking.  I get to follow the trail we've built from the start, progressing from the part done on the first day of work way back when.  Each section I travel is another day's work, with the memories of how it looked before in my mind and the accomplishments of each day under my feet.  Before long the end of the trail is there - and the land ahead goes on with its forest business as I look at the task of the day and plan the next step.  Then on go the work gloves and let the festivities begin.

I've found that whether the job is using loppers to cut a corridor through a thicket, benching a tread into the side of a slope, or skimming back the grass and weeds from the tread it's best to keep my pace slow.  During winter trail days you start off cold and then warm up as you work, in the summer you start off hot and quickly progress to overheated.  So I set a pace that I can maintain, at least for short periods, and start to carve a thin slice of direction out of the wonderful clutter of the woods.  Piece by piece, foot by foot, the unordered undergrowth slowly parts as the new trail reveals itself.  Each rest break shows a bit of progress, another step, another pedal stroke of distance created.   Two hours to build and ten seconds to ride...

 

Rocks are rarely where you want them to be.  If they're big enough, you just change your expectations to conform to the position of the rock.  But usually your relationship with rocks involves them changing from one location or position to another.  The bigger the rock, or the bigger the distance to move it, the more difficult it becomes.  One thing I've found to be a big help when working with rocks on hillsides is gravity - it's always easier to move a rock down a hill to the trail then up a hill.  But even with a best case scenario moving rocks is a gradual business.  And when working alone it requires not only a bit of muscle, but some planning skills as well.  Sometimes it can be like solving a puzzle: trying to move a big rock, turn it 90 degrees and use the rock bar as a lever to flip it over, get log rollers underneath it and PUSH it into the desired position.  Days with lots of rock work can be both rewarding and frustrating.  It always gives a feeling of accomplishment when you see a nicely built rock feature, and know that it will likely be there without problems for years, maybe even decades.  But then at the end of the day, when you walk back over the brand new trail and see that you only finished 20 feet in three hours - well, that can certainly be demoralizing.

Undertaking one of these projects means realizing that it's going to take a long time, lots of sweat and  a lot of volunteers.  But it's always the same - small steps, one section at a time, one rock at a time, one day of work at a time.  At each session's end, carrying the tools back out gives a chance to see what got done that day, and how many more feet were added.  The hike out usually gives me a chance to imagine the finished trail, and what it would be like riding it back to the start.  As I look out through the trees and relish the sight of a well defined line of new trail swooping across a hillside and over the rocks it always brings a smile.  No matter how dirty, sweaty and tired I am that always gives me the motivation to come back again.

 

Dehydrated but Organized

And time passes for our hero, as it does for all of us...

Work continues to barely drag along, but the REAL world (note: there is no such thing as the real world) has been doing pretty well.  Our garden is at least sprouting, and there are a bunch of hot pepper and tomato plants in the ground, growing contentedly.  There are also sweet peas, beets, lettuce, green beans and cucumbers (don't count on the cukes though - they look a mite sickly).

A Simpson Design convertible at the Greenway trailhead.
Turns out it's a body kit that goes on Miata frames.

I've been trying to maintain a healthy level of exercise, which for me is riding five days out of seven.  Looking at my trusty MapMyRide calendar for the last couple of weeks I see that two weeks ago I only rode four days out of seven (darn that mythical real world) but the one day I got out and rode twice, soooo - it's almost kind of like I rode five days out of seven since I did get in the same number of rides.

Then this week I redeemed myself from last weeks shortcomings by riding six days out of seven.  Checking the MMR tally I see those six rides consisted of two singletrack sessions, three pavement rides and one stationary bike torture-fest.  And on the seventh day I got in three hours of trail building down at Beaver Creek (more on that later).  So it was a pretty active week, and I'm basically feeling mostly good, though I am still sporting a few fading bruises from my latest Off Bike Experience.

About a month ago one of my trail building buddies, Eric, and I started talking about what it would take to start a mountain bike club for our area.  Cleveland Area Mountain Bike Association (CAMBA) does a really great job and has helped me a lot, but they don't cover our county since we're 50 miles away.  I'd thought of starting a club a couple of years ago, but I seriously don't want to be the president of anything, so I put it off.  But Eric and I decided to see if we could get something started, so we made up some fliers and got them out to all the local bike shops.

The response was minimal, but at the same time another rider was having the same thoughts.  And when he met up with the International Mountain Bike Association (IMBA) rep for the Great Lakes region at a mtb event, things really started moving.  Thanks to the work and commitment of our new president, the Rust Belt Riders MTB is the newest IMBA chapter club (or will be when the final application is submitted this week).  I did end up with the job of secretary, but I think that's something I can handle.

We'll cover Trumbull, Mahoning, and Columbiana counties in Ohio, as well as the area in Pennsylvania that's just across the border.  One of the main issues will be to get Mill Creek Park to change their policy and allow mountain bikes on some of their trails.  Another focus will be continuing the work I started with building new trails down at Beaver Creek, and making that park our showcase of trail building possibilities.  After putting in three years of negotiations to get this project going I'm really excited with the possibilities.

We had a trail building day at Beaver Creek this Saturday, despite the 90 degree temps.  The park was having a Civil War re-enactment this weekend (a fact of which I was unaware) so the place was PACKED full of cars.  We're working on the other side of the creek from the encampment and re-enactment site, so there weren't many people around - just a hundred parked cars.  But I found a space way at the end, and so did Eric.  We got to work on the trail and finished off our big rock work project, an 85 foot long rock roadway that contours across a rugged part of the hillside.  The next task facing us is a steep section that will require a good sized rock retaining wall and pretty substantial bench cutting.

Building a new retaining wall at Beaver Creek.

Partway through the day Ian showed up to help with the build.  And just about the same time Doug, the "ranger" (actually a Resource Manager, I believe) for Ohio DNR stopped by to look at the new trail.  He's actually an avid mountain biker, and was excited to see our progress and the quality of the new trail.  We got to talking about the Rust Belt Riders and he wants to set up a time to do a walk-through of 100 acres of land over in Lake Milton State Park that he thinks would be prime for development as a mountain bike trail system.  And I heard second hand that Trumbull County Metroparks might be interested in developing another one of their parcels with some mtb trails.  So it turns out that there are quite a few positive things going on with the new club, and lots of possibilities to make a real difference for riders in our area.

Then today - funny thing, today... 

Yesterday I ended up doing three and a half hours of trail work in 90 degree heat, followed up with an hour and a half of gardening, in the same heat.  The real problem there is that I am of Greek heritage and sweat like a lawn sprinkler, so in the heat I have to put considerable effort into maintaining my hydration - or I crash like the Hindenburg.

Yesterday I drank two 32 oz. Gatorades, two 12 oz. Mountain Dews, and two 24 oz. water bottles while trail building and gardening.  Then when I got home I had another water and a couple beers.  I added up the total input in my head and thought that it should have been sufficient and went to bed tired.  Then this morning I got up before 7:00 and headed out to West Branch to ride.  Even getting out of bed was tough, but I attributed it to a hard day's work and being 49 years old.  When I got out on the singletrack I expected to feel better and get my groove, but after the first half hour or so I felt like chewed gum.  Despite that I continued on the singletrack, passing on the bail trail that in retrospect I should have taken.  It wasn't long before I was feeling seriously low in energy - like "maybe I should lay down for a minute" low.  I'm used to draggin' ass now and again, and this wasn't it.  After several granny gear climbs I finally made it back to the car and drove home, where I once again poured in copious amounts of fluids.

After a bit of reflection I decided that I must have still been dehydrated from the day before when I got up, and that once again going into 'full exertion' mode in 90 degree temps might not have been the best idea.  This afternoon I just sat around and took in fluids, with short naps in between (I'm usually not a nap guy).  And after drinking a LOT of Gatorade, ice tea and water I seem to have once again balanced the system somewhat, as there is now at least some output to go along with the massive input.  And once again I've relearned the 'hydrate yourself, you fool' lesson.  Hopefully this time it takes!

Imagine that

It seems that I'm back in the groove now, and managing to maintain a fairly steady ride schedule again.  Looking back into the recent past of three weeks ago, I find it difficult to explain why I was missing so many opportunities to get out and do something (like ride a bicycle maybe).  Motivation is such a tricky thing, involving mood, stress, scheduling, percieved versus actual results, etc.  Realizing that it is such an incredibly complex thing makes me doubt any sort of "motivational" expert right from the start.  How someone can think that they have the methods to overcome all those individual motivational roadblocks is beyond me.

In my twenties and thirties, after spending years making myself lift weights, I found my workout routines lasting for less time and my desire to exercise vanishing.  Then when I started paddling all the time I found it was a mildly good workout for my shoulders and upper body, and I would do it as often as I could.  Now that I've started riding mountain bikes the workout level has skyrocketed.  Since I enjoy it so much it never seems like a chore to get a workout in. 

So it seems obvious to me - if you want to be fit, find an exercise that you actually enjoy.  Not something that you can tolerate, or make yourself do twice a week.  Make it something that you really like, so much that you do it as often as possible.  So much that you'll gladly do other, not-so-fun exercise to make it easier to do the FUN stuff.  Amazingly simple, right?

Hogback Ridge, part of Lake County Metroparks

Actually, I'm afraid that is likely to be WRONG.  That is the kind of thinking that convinces those motivational speaker guys that they should go out and tell other people their brilliant ideas in order to make life perfect.  Upon further consideration it would seem that some people are not ever going to find something physical that they can truly enjoy.  For some people the cost of extended effort, physical fatigue and risk of injury will never be worth the adrenaline and accomplishment of any kind of intense physical activity, be it running, dance, karate, swimming or even mountain biking.  For these people, overcoming this particular motivational roadblock must be even more difficult.  I'd make a lousy motivational speaker I guess, because with only my one insight - I have no answers for the difficult questions.

Looking at my MapMyRide workout sheet for back to the last time I posted 11 days ago, it looks like I had a ride every day except for two, and one of those off days I did three hours of trail work as well as rototilling my Mom's garden.  Those nine ride days included five days of singletrack, and totalled out at around 90 miles.  With the local trails at West Branch State Park finally reopening (actually, reopening early this year), I've been able to head out there a couple of times and get in quick rides when I have only two hours or so of free time.  Plus I also got in a longer ride too, that surprisingly enough didn't even make me feel like I was going to die at the end.  Things bode well for an epic ride day in my near future - if I can just get everything to fall in place so that I can get four or so hours of free time...

A friend of mine from the rail trail.

I'm also back on the regular schedule for trail work.  This weekend we had a nice work day at North Road, maintaining the old trail and pushing on the new. Last weekend Eric and I got in a good day of work down at Beaver Creek, cutting in more bench on the hillside trail above the creek.  It's not exactly fast work, but it is rewarding to see such interesting new trail slowly emerging from the hillside.  We came across a section that was just full of big rocks, jumbled up on top of each other with little actual dirt between them - Eric called it the cannonball farm, and that summarized it nicely.  We took a bit of extra time and fashioned a rock roadway across the section, made of rocks up to about 250 pounds.  This should be a blast to ride, and even a nice surface for walkers.

Eric on the roadway at the cannonball farm.

I got out this evening for just over an hour on the singletrack at West Branch.  I had a great time, and even felt good on the hills.  I'm lucky.  I'm lucky  that though things may be stressful in the rest of my life, riding through the woods can bring me back to earth and put things in perspective.  I'm lucky that something as simple as biking can give me so much.  And I'm really lucky that my one insight into motivation actually applies to me.

Keep on riding folks.

Striving for Rhythm

Human nature is a funny thing.  Or more correctly, MY nature is a funny thing.  All winter I kept on the stationary bike, spending hours down in the basement spinning and sweating.  It certainly wasn't what I wanted to be doing, but I knew it was good for me.  So I gritted my teeth, put on a John Wayne movie and pedaled.

Now the weather is much, much nicer.  Even if there are some cool, damp days and it seems to be cloudy more often than it's sunny, the contrast with cold, wet, muddy and grey is pretty amazing.  But I've been slacking - not riding when I should and could be out.  I've made a couple of singletrack forays each week - but the other days I've been doing nothing.  Most of those days the weather was good enough that I could have had at least a nice ride around town, but I haven't.  So now that I've confronted the problem I'm going to try to get in at least a short ride five of the next seven days.  And I'll even get back on MapMyRide and log my miles.  Yeah.

Friday afternoon I headed down to Beaver Creek with Dave.  My plan was to ride a bit, from the campground down to the picnic area.  Then I planned on hiking back up, rather than push the bike up the insanely steep and rocky 5/8 mile "shortcut".  Once I got back to the car and caught my breath I would hike the bow saw down the trail about 1/4 mile to a downed tree and cut it out.  So I geared up and headed on down the trail.  I finally got the mount and lens cover replaced on my GoPro helmet cam, so I tried mounting it on the front fork for a bit.  Unfortunately that needs a bit more work, so I switched it to my helmet.  Even more unfortunately, when I came speeding down a hill, pegged my left bar end on a sapling, and crashed onto the trail at a pretty good rate of speed, sliding at least 10 feet on my right side - I had accidentally switched from video to photo every 10 seconds.

Immediately after crashing - you can tell because the bike is LAYING DRIVE SIDE DOWN.

Thankfully I didn't do any damage, but that was entirely too hard for a 49 year old guy to hit the ground.  Kinda took the oomph out of the afternoon.  I continued on my ride, eventually getting back into a semi-natural groove, but my shoulder and hip were pretty sore, as well as my right ankle.  The flat section down by the creek was a lot of fun though, and I actually managed to get some of that part on the GoPro - before the SD card filled up and it stopped recording.



I'm not sure why exactly, but I didn't leave the bike at the bottom, instead hiking (mostly) and biking (a little bit) back up to the top and the car.  By the time I got back up there I was twice as sore as when I hit the ground, and I wasn't about to hike back down and spend another half hour sawing through three tree trunks.  So I had a nice cold drink and headed back home - good enough for one day.

Saturday morning I did something a bit different.  Diana was sick at home with a nasty bout of intestinal flu, so Kenny stayed at home with her.  I headed out before 9:00 to meet up with two of the adult leaders from Kenny's new Boy Scout troop.  They had an idea to do a canoe trip on the local river, a slow and muddy waterway that has something like 20 dams on it.  And since they knew I was into kayaking they asked if I'd like to go along on an exploratory trip to see if the river was passable.  We put in one town upstream, near the Bliss dam in Newton Falls, and paddled downstream in spotty rain and cool temperatures.  Over the next four hours we came across three river-wide blockages, the last of which was a huge mess in an area that was very difficult to portage.  So they may have to either find another place to paddle or find another way to use the clear sections in order to get in enough distance to make the trip worthwhile.  It was nice to paddle on the Mahoning in the upstream sections where I'd never been before, but what I really need is some whitewater.  I'm waiting for a weekend when the water level and my free time are both right and I can get in a nice ride on the lower Slippery Rock Creek.  Now that's some REAL fun!!

A fortuitously placed fallen log at Moraine State Park.

 

Sunday my brother and I had planned on a ride over at Moraine, but he was feeling a bit under the weather and had to cancel.  I considered heading over and riding myself, but with the chilly, damp weather I settled on going to the nearby North Road trails and doing some trail work for a couple of hours.  Now that the tread is solid enough to actually ride I've managed to get over there and put in some laps.  It really pointed out where the trail needed to be tweaked to make it more bike friendly.  The twisty, narrow tread is great for hiking, but once I rode it I found that the corridor pressed too close in some areas, the sight lines were obstructed in others, and some of the turns were too tight for a bike.  So I spent a couple of hours widening the tread, cutting back undergrowth at corners, and making re-routes for the sharp turns.  I only got a little further than half way, but I think that the changes should be pretty noticeable.  I need to get my bike back out there and ride it again to see.

A too-tight corner before...

...and after.

I guess it was another so-so weekend.  I did get some stuff done, and managed to get in some riding, but I certainly hope to do better in the upcoming week.  With a little bit of cooperation from the weather, and a few other things falling in line, hopefully I'll get more miles - and have more fun.

Here and There, but definitely not Everywhere

It was another slow week at work, but Friday eventually found it's way around again.  During the wet and muddy winter I'd heard that the trails at Quail Hollow State Park had been damaged pretty badly by irresponsible riders.  Apparently it got so bad that the park actually closed them for a while, something that they usually don't do.  But towards the end of the week I saw on the CAMBA board that the trails were not only re-opened, but in good condition.  I hadn't been out there for quite a long time, probably not even last summer, but I always enjoyed a spin around the loop there.

Quail Hollow State Park, Ohio

The trail there is a 3.15 mile loop, with one way travel.  The elevation change in the park is a whopping 50 feet, so there aren't the hills like at West Branch or Moraine.  And there are so few rocks that you could probably give each one a name.  There are maybe three stretches where you can see rocks and only one rock feature - and it looks like it was imported.  In short it's a beginners trail.  But it's still possible to have a LOT of fun there - if you just try to pick up the speed a bit.  The beginning is especially fast, as there are a couple of small descents that help keep up your momentum.  During the first year I rode Quail Hollow my record for  lap was 29 minutes.  A couple of years later I dropped it to 24 minutes.  On Friday I managed to tie that on my first lap, then I took a slower paced lap where I stopped and took some photos.

The boardwalk at the meadow at Quail Hollow.

I would have made another slow lap, maybe two, but I don't like to leave Dave waiting forever, so we headed home.  Still was a great afternoon and I was glad to get out and visit Quail Hollow again and see that it hasn't been destroyed.

Saturday I did some things that had to be done, but I did take an hour or so and get in a ride on the rail trail.  Time was at a premium, so I went to the closest trailhead and cranked out some miles.  It's nice to be able to head out for an hour and a half ride and still know you could easily ride for another hour and a half.  But sometimes you have to fit a ride in the available slot, so I was content with what I got.

Wildlife observation platform on the Western Reserve Greenway Trail.

Saturday afternoon Kenny and I headed down to Beaver Creek to camp overnight.  My brother Matt and his two kids also headed down, but since his boy has been feeling a bit under the weather they decided not to spend the night.  The kids had fun running around and playing on the playground while I set up the tent and Matt got a nice fire going.  Then he cooked an excellent steak dinner, with potatoes, beans, cider and pie - so good it was hard to believe I was out camping.

Trumbull County Courthouse on the banks of the Mahoning River.

Sunday afternoon when we got up Kenny and I had a fire to get warmed up, then packed up camp and headed down to the picnic area for trail work.  Even though it was Easter there was one other brave volunteer, Eric, who showed up.  He and I worked for over three hours to bench the top part of the new trail.

The new trail at Beaver Creek State Park (picture by Kenny)

The soil on the hillside varies from 80% rock/20% dirt to loam to clay.  Some of it is relatively easy to bench cut - and some not so easy.  But the two of us got quite a bit of work done in an afternoon, so that I'm fairly confident that we'll be finishing this thing off before the end of summer.  It's going to be a nice addition to the mountain bike trail system, but I think it'll be even better for hikers since it's a short scenic loop that's right by the parking areas.

Another pic of the new trail (by Kenny).

So there wasn't a great, grand ride this weekend like the one last week at Moraine.  But I did get to visit two places that I enjoy seeing.  There was a nice ride involved, plus another grinder on the rail trail.  And getting more done on the Beaver Creek trail was really great, as this is a project that I've been working towards for over two years. 

Nonetheless, I can't help but hope that next weekend I can get in both some rewarding trail building time AND a fantastic ride on some singletrack.  And maybe even a bit of a ride during the week, if I'm lucky and the weather cooperates.  Hey, a man can dream, can't he?

Time Warp

When I wrote my last post, the one talking about how I spent the whole weekend doing trail work, it turns out that I had an unseen passenger.  Behind my left knee, the one that doesn't move around so well so I can't actually SEE the back of it, there was a tick.  I didn't find the little monster until Tuesday, so that means that it was there at least two days, and according to what I could find out, that meant that there was a better chance that it could have transferred bad juju to my bloodstream.  Then when I got sick the next day, with a fever that just wiped me out, I really started to worry.

When I got hold of my doctor and described my symptoms he basically said "Get in here right now."  That's never a comforting thing to hear from your physician.  So I went in and they drew blood for tests and started me on some drugs in case I started to grow Lymes.  But regardless of what it was, I was miserable - fever, congestion, achy and it felt like my IQ had been reduced by 50%.  But I finally got the blood test results back after the weekend and found out that I didn't have Lyme Disease - just some sort of cold (ain't the power of paranoia a wonderful thing?)

But I did spend about ten days down and out.  I went to work the whole time - when you work at a desk with a computer there's not much difference between sitting at work being miserable and sitting at home being miserable.  But my head was so scrambled that it almost seems like the whole time I was sick didn't really happen - the Severe Cold Time Warp. It's not like I did anything that I could look back on, just sit around in a fog being sick.  But finally I'm more or less back with the rest of the world (as much as ever, anyways) and able to actually participate in living.

But after nothing going on for a week and a half I started to get my energy back towards the end of the week, and on Friday I headed down to Beaver Creek after lunch.  My plan was to get in a ride and then do a small amount of work on the new trail.  But as I've learned before, you're never ahead of downed trees when you're maintaining a trail.

There were two new trees down on Dogwood Trail.  I only had my small saw in my pack, so I couldn't clear them but I did get rid of all the branches so that you could at least lift a bike over easily.  That took up some of my trail work time, but I did get a chance to do some more benching on the hillside section of the new trail.  That has to be some of the rockiest soil I've ever seen up there, the exact opposite of the silty soil at the North Road trail project.

Next weekend there's going to be a big Beaver Creek trail work day, where I get a chance to do more than just a little bit of work at a time.  But this weekend it was time to work on North Road Nature Preserve.  Only a small crew showed up - just four of us - but we put in a good morning of work and finished cutting the corridor for the reroute around the wettest section.  The woods are waking up to spring pretty quick this year, which isn't suprising I guess considering we only had a quarter of a winter.

For TJ - this is the trail wagon from earlier in the year.

Then on Sunday afternoon my brother and I headed over to Moraine for a ride.  I was feeling a bit less than perfect with a nice headache going on, but I'd been thinking about riding all week so I was going to give it a shot.  And it turned out so fine - one of those nice, long rides in nice conditions with good company when it seems like you're firing on all cylinders and riding at the top of your ability.

I can hardly even attempt to describe how great it was.  A TOUGH ride, with lots of technical stuff to push yourself against.  No big falls, no crashes, no bike parts broke.  After a week and a half of time warp flu it was exactly what I needed.  I'm feeling sore from my legs to my shoulders, and I can tell I'm going to sleep like a rock tonight, but it's all good.

Also, this week my son Kenny graduated from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts.  He left Webelos with the Super Achiever award, which you only get if you complete every single one of the Webelos achievements.  He did a heck of a job and I'm EXTREMELY proud him.

That must be spring in the air

The half winter (maybe even quarter winter) that we've been enduring seems to have finally given it's last gasp, leaving us with a gradual, almost unnoticeable transition from brown and muddy to green and muddy.  But the temperatures have climbed into the 70's and the smell of earth is in the breeze.  I can hear the spring peepers calling, the robins (and turkey buzzards) are back, and the daffodils are blooming.  It would be cruel and unusual for winter to stage a final tantrum at this point.  Now if I was still living in Minnesota it would be totally possible, but for northeast Ohio - I'm calling this winter over.



Trail side ruins from the canal days at Beaver Creek.


After watching the weather all week while I was sitting at my desk - indoors - looking out the window at the sun - I'd hoped to have a veritable orgy of mountain biking over the weekend.  But with nice conditions the unmistakable knocking of delayed commitments started to make it's way into my consciousness and I decided to take care of some trail work.  So on Friday I headed down to Beaver Creek with Dave for a ride and trail work day.  I knew there were a bunch of trees down so I strapped a bow saw to my pack and started up Dogwood Trail from the picnic area, ready to play my lumberjack role.  Turns out someone had cut out at least one of the downed trees, but at least one more good-sized one had fallen - so I had plenty to keep me busy.  I think I cut out at least 6 trees and did a bit of on-the-fly drainage work, but there was one tree up near the top that I didn't get to.  It's always more work and takes longer than you think (that should be the Golden Rule of trail building).

Someone else is cutting trees at Beaver Creek too.

But it was nice to get in a ride, even if it was a short one, and the extra danger of riding singletrack with a big honkin' saw strapped to my back made it even more fun.  Beaver Creek is one of my favorite places, where I've spent literally hundreds of hours camping, hiking, kayaking and biking.  That makes it even nicer to give back some by working on the trails.



Panoramic shot of Beaver Creek.

 Saturday morning I'd scheduled trail work on the North Road Nature Preserve project.  With nice weather I'd hoped that there would be a pretty good turn out, but the only one to show up was Bernie.  That guy is something else - 73 years old and full of energy.  We hauled in about a half ton of rock using the trail wagon, then moved some flagstone we found on-site.  After that we went over to the super wet area and started to cut the corridor that is going to be the re-route.  It would have been nice if I would have been smart enough to avoid the trouble area in the first place, but I think that this new line will definitely be an improvement.  We put in three hours of work, then collected up the tools and headed back up the trail with the wagon - just in time to meet another volunteer who was delayed in showing up for his first trail work day.  No worries though, we talked and he'll likely be returning to help (yay).



I wonder how far down that you could ride...

I'd thought about going out for a ride on the rail trail Saturday afternoon, but I was pretty worn out so I just spent some time starting the season's yard and house work.  But I was thinking about what I should do on Sunday afternoon after Diana got off work.  My inclination was to head back over to Moraine and try to lengthen up the loop I'd been riding the last couple of weeks.  But I could still faintly hear those blasted commitments knocking, so I once again loaded up bike and tools and headed back down to Beaver Creek.

Ready to rake and ride.

First I left the bike in the woods at the top of the loop, then I parked at the bottom and hiked back up - which gave me the opportunity to tackle the last blockage near the top.  I managed to tear off a big flap of skin on my hand and painted a good portion of the surrounding trees with my blood, but eventually the huge mass of grapevines that was dragged down by the falling tree was cleared enough to ride through.  I completed the hike and then rode back down the long leg of the loop back down to the bottom (no blockages - hooray!)  Once I got back to the car I packed up the bike, grabbed some tools and headed up to where the new trail is going to be built.  I got the okay to make this trail the week before I fractured my skull in October, so this job has been waiting for quite a while.

Cell phone pic of the brook from the hillside trail.

I wanted to take a chance to start the benching on this project before getting a trail crew out there.  If it was going to be an impossible job to bench the extremely rocky soil then I wanted to know before there were other people there.  But I was happy to see that though it was a tough job, it was something that we could do.  So next weekend is Boy Scout camping, the weekend after is North Park trail work and the NEXT weekend is going to be the first big Beaver Creek work day.  I hope I can get a couple of people to come out and join in, but even if I have to do it myself I'm going to get this new trail put in.

Starting to bench the new trail at Beaver Creek (another cell phone pic).


So instead of three days of riding, this weekend was three days of trail work.  It would have been nice to get in at least one longer ride, but I'm really happy to see progress on my two trail projects.  Because when I get these projects done I'm going to see if they'll let me build some mtb trails at Mosquito Lake State Park - just ten minutes up the road from my house.  I can hardly wait.

Just another gorgeous dawn.

Next weekend though, after the Boy Scout campout - I'm going to RIDE.

Rocks and Mud

Back in the day, years and years ago, I got around in the woods on foot.  I spent a lot of time backpacking around the national forests of the eastern US, especially the wilderness areas.   The prospect of a day walking through mud or rocks never particularly bothered me - it was just part of the price of admission.

Rocks at the IMBA Epic trails at Ellicottville, NY

Later I turned my attention to traveling by water, and I started spending a lot of my time in a kayak.  At first it was back in the swamps and ponds, where I certainly became a lot more intimately acquainted with mud - like the stinky, slimy mud packed into beaver dams.  Later my paddling adventures centered more around whitewater, with hundreds of trips on dozens of streams across the Appalachians and Adirondacks.  Rocks became an essential part of every trip, every stream and every rapid - along with water they defined the experience.



Me on Scrubgrass Creek, PA

 These days I get around in the woods on a bicycle, though I still spend some time paddling and hiking.  Rocks and mud have a different kind of significance in this realm, one as tied to the definition of the experience as rock and water are tied to whitewater kayaking.  Some would say that mud and rock are there for riders to conquer, though I don't see how you ever beat the rocks - you just manage to not let them beat you.  For me, they help to create this huge stage, where I get to go and play - making as much as I can out of what's there and what I can do.



My brother at Ellicottville, NY

Mud is another deal though.  In small doses it can be just a part of the mix that creates a challenging ride.  A lot of riders have experience with those soft spots that seem to hardly ever dry out, and have to be ridden with different strategies for different moisture levels.  The other face of mud is that of the barrier - when it's so bad that you can't with good conscience continue on down the trail because to the damage you'd do.  That's when a mountain biker hates the mud - even though it's just the same old trail with a bit more water.

Moraine

This week I took the chance to head out to the trails at Moraine State Park, in Pennsylvania.  These trails handle the water better than any place around, and though it was pretty wet I thought I'd take a chance. Moraine has a lot of rocks, with a good portion of decayed sandstone in the soil, so it drains really well. Once I got on the singletrack I could tell that the soil was moist under the leaves, but most of it was still pretty solid.   There were places where the trail doesn't drain well due to the way it was laid out, but these were short stretches and not really all that bad to get off and walk around.  And since it's such a technical trail that I'm not able to ride far without putting down a foot anyway, having to get off and walk on 10% of the trail doesn't ruin the ride for me.

It was a good ride.  I had a nice couple of downhill sections, some rewarding technical features, and I fell over a couple of times.  But no damage was done to me or the bike, and I did get out and get in the sun for a while so it was all good.  I wish I would have had another hour, then I would have made the whole big loop rather than do a small loop and then some out-n-back.  Maybe on Sunday?

Near Moraine State Park.

Kenny and I went out and did some trail work on Saturday morning.  I hadn't called for the group to come and work, so it was just the two of us.  Big portions of the trail were really, really muddy and we spent some time looking at a reroute for the worst section.  We did find a slightly higher spot, but it's in the middle of the biggest wild rose thicket I have ever seen. I'm torn up all over from the damn thorns.

Near Neshannock Falls, PA

We also spent a couple of hours digging rocks out of the old spoils piles from when they bulldozed in the roads fifty years ago.  It's hard, dirty work but if the only rocks in the area are ones that have to be dug up, then that's the way it has to be.  This area is mostly full of chunks of flagstone, and we found some huge pieces that will be great for firming up the muddy sections.  I have a feeling that there is a LOT more rock in there, if we're willing to put in the sweat to dig it up.



Bridge over Neshannock Creek, where I've spent many days paddling.


We had a good time though.  It's always a good time going to do trail work with Kenny - he's a fun kid.  He loves digging in the dirt - getting muddy is no problem for this boy.  Now that I think about it, we had another fun day centered on rocks and mud.



On the way home - day is done.

I put together a little video of Moraine riding from this January and February.  It's nothing spectacular by any means, though I do like the song ("Cross Country" by the Godz).