Another Great Fourth of July Ride

I was determined to have my act together for this ride. I collected all my riding gear, clothes, etc Saturday night and tossed it all in the truck. At 7:00 AM I had my bike in the truck and was headed to pick up Keith and meet the rest of whoever was riding at the bike shop. The five of us were riding by 8:15 AM.

As I have aged I have noticed it takes me more miles than it used to to feel good on a ride. In my 30s I could go full tilt boogie right out of the gate and not feel like I was going to have a coronary. Now, the body insists on some slow stroking before it accepts the fact I am bound and determined to ride whether it wants to or not. So, the fact that we start a 3 1/2 mile climb as soon as we leave the vehicles, I was off the back and out of sight of the others in the first 100 yards. About a mile into it, the blood vessels in my head calmed down, my legs stopped their whining, and I suddenly felt well enough to kick it into a higher gear. And imagine my surprise when I began to actually catch up some.

Seems there is some fitness lurking deep inside me somewhere. I felt great the rest of the ride even when I was laid over the bars into a steep climb. Today was a good day in the woods.

The Demoralizer

We all have days of recreating that are in some way or ways more memorable than others. Good and Bad. The weather was perfect for that vacation. Or the weather was not. That night out on the town left you grinning or just grateful to be back home with your head on the pillow. Group rides in the woods can often become tests of one's will just to complete them. Or the trails and the mindset blend together offering you that rare perfect or almost perfect ride. Sunday was such a day.

The edgy cantankerous chip I have been shouldering in recent weeks did not give me a warm and fuzzy feeling Sunday morning when my eyes popped open prematurely at 3:00 AM. I woke up surly and showed up at the trail head at Fort Rock in a very pissy mood. I was nursing a pulled crotch muscle, I had only slept 6 or 7 hours in the last 2 days, and I had forgotten my Camelbak full of water, tools, and something to munch on. Yep, all the ingredients to suffer a forgetful ride were in place. I looked at the spare bottle I always carry for when some other dope forgets his Camelbak and mumbled to myself, "Yeah it figures Mike, you'd be the dope today." My Karma exuded negativity. I seemed determined to have a shitty day in the woods.

Fort Rock is a regionally famous network of trails in southern New Hampshire. Riding there is always a challenge. Rocky, rooty, narrow wooden bridges, it has it all except the killer hill climbs some other areas have. My experience there is limited. I may have ridden those trails 3 or 4 times in the last 10 years. Until Sunday's ride, the technical aspects of the trails always got the better of me. An hour in and I became frustrated by the constant dismounts to walk sections that intimidated me. Sunday I still walked some, but I was not intimidated. The trail would have to force me off my bike. And it did. I went down hard at least 3 times I can remember. Unfortunately it was the "Lil Princess" that took the brunt of the damage this day. She left some serious paint on the rocks there. My helmet took a good whack also, immediately reminding me why I wear one.

"The Groove", "The Zone" - Whatever we may call it, there are moments when everything seems to cease to exist except that which we are experiencing at the moment. While I did not find my groove every time I rolled up to some intimidating or technical section, I found "my Zone" more than enough to wipe that shitty attitude out of my mind replacing it by rides end with a feeling of satisfaction I cannot really put into words other to say Sunday's ride left me with serious grin factor.

The Demoralizer

"The Demoralizer" is a very technical trail that never lets up. Constantly dipping, flipping and slipping up root ladders and down over baby head rocks nestled into and among boulders that intimidate just with their size. If memory serves, my last visit to this trail, I spent more time walking than riding. Sunday I attacked it and let's say it was a draw. The important thing was it did not demoralize me. My failures on it on fed my desire to come back and prove it is wrongly named.

WOOD

Wood anything when utilized on mountain bike trails has made me nervous for over 20 years now. It was a nasty crash back in 1987 on a fast rolling downhill during the last "White Mountain Championships" that planted my fear of wood. At the bottom of the downhill run, the trail crossed a wooden bridge that completely collapsed when I hit it at speed. Me, the bike, and the bridge dropped about 8 feet before stopping in the boulder strewn creek bed the bridge was crossing. It hurt. It hurt deep. Since then when faced with a wooden bridge on my bike, I am prone to walk it before I ride it. Yeah, I am a Nancy when it comes to wood. Sunday we faced lots of wood. And I rode most of it. I can only think of 2 bridges I walked. And both only because I screwed up the approach. The bridge below is one I walked. Maybe that guy wishes he had also.



Keep smilin........................

Blue Job

Over the last 24 years of mountain biking here in New England, I have more than likely ridden thousands of times in the woods around my area. Any day riding is a good day. Even those days when I came home wet, cold, beat beyond belief, or bleeding from being caught being stupid. Then there are days like today's ride at Blue Job State Park. Timing, location, weather, my mindset, and the group who decided to go all combine to make some rides stand out as rides to remember. Funny how many of my most memorable rides seem to center around this small state park tucked away near Rochester, New Hampshire.

All of us locals know Winter is just around the corner. Live here long enough and you get a feel for when those last nice days of Fall are happening. I guess I should not have been surprised to see so many riders hanging in the shop parking lot this morning. They all knew the days of wearing shorts and light weight gloves were numbered. With less than 24 hours notice, 10 riders had decided to head over to catch one of the best views in southern New Hampshire and Maine combined. The 1300 foot plus Blue Job towered over anything nearby, offering any who climbed her almost a 360 degree view of everything within a 50 mile radius. On a clear day, the Atlantic 30 some miles away is visible. Today was a clear day. A beautiful day.


Here in the East we do not have the panoramic vistas found out West. Views such as can be had atop Blue Job are not rare, but generally not common. Our landscape does not jump out at you. It sneaks up on you. Most of our riding is done under the cover of trees or inside walls of pucker. Being out in the open is usually a brief experience. Blue Job changes that. The top of the lower peak is the closest thing we have to slick rock. Granite slabbed with deep cracks make riding it always a challenge. And the climbing will test the baddest goat in any bunch of riders.

Our group was made up of fast young guys on single speeds, one stupidly fast older guy, and then the rest of us. I brought up the rear. As the bow hunter we passed on the way up responded to my comment that I was the last of the group, "Someone has to be last. Might as well be you." Yeah, might as well be me.

The ride is a short one in mileage, but not short on climbing. Starting at the Rochester reservoir, we climb steadily for 3 1/2 miles. Fool around on top for awhile and then 3 1/2 miles back down to the cars. Everything from recently graded dirt roads at the beginning to steep ledges no one cleaned. This ride will beat you up.

I started the ride not feeling good nor did I feel bad. I was riding my new 29er VooDoo hardtail with rigid fork. I had no expectations other than to see what "Lil Princess" would let me get away with. Once again I came away more impressed than ever with the 29 inch experience. I cleaned sections that have always given me trouble and her climbing abilities were way beyond my skillset and fitness level. The downhill back was long and brutal in sections. I had concerns about how I would handle it with no suspension up front. The Lil Princess laughed at most of it and when I choked on some sections and slowed down, I could almost hear her teasing me with words like "Wimp, loser, lets go you flounder, let off the brakes".

What a great bike. What a great day. What a great bunch of folks to ride with. Days like today are what I live for.
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Credits - Dash Jim provided the GPS map and the group picture
- Jim provided the picture of yours truly
- I took the picture of one of the young punks.