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Mountain Biking 2018
- Thread starter Jersey Skier
- Start date
Yeah but Im used to disappointing 1 girl at a time lolYou told me that you're used to that.
No one said disappointment.
You said " beautiful women who got a good laugh at my expense!!!"
Now I'm laughing...because.
See how easy it is?
I can barely get coffee before work. God love ya...
Yeah, I had my alarm set to 5:30am. It's almost a necessity in the summer. Temps of high 80s to 90s? It used to be fine, but the last few years, it's just awful for me. I've been working on going to bed between 9 and 10 (I know, crazy) so that I can get more done in the morning. I managed the going to bed part, but my nightmares were bad enough that when I woke up from them, I was afraid to go back to sleep. I was going to push through, but then I realized that it wouldn't be fun and that I'd likely be putting myself at risk on the particular trail I had in mind. So, back to bed.
I went for a nice ride today up Turks to Wirepatch and back down Wirepatch to Turks and home.
Part of Turks is known as Tin Man for the following reason:
He changes his appearance on a regular basis. This is the first time I've seen him with an actual heart. Two in fact as the little bit of red in his left hand is a small heart in addition to the one he is wearing.
Part of Turks is known as Tin Man for the following reason:
He changes his appearance on a regular basis. This is the first time I've seen him with an actual heart. Two in fact as the little bit of red in his left hand is a small heart in addition to the one he is wearing.
I refuse to click.
The best way to stop doing drugs is to not start..
- Joined
- Dec 20, 2015
- Posts
- 8,480
Bike Mag just compared the Saints and Codes. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd consider the Codes. Sounds like the Saints have too much power (and lack of modulation) for anywhere but World Cup DH courses.
Also, have you considered a good brake service on your XTRs AND trying larger rotors? I've had Shimano disk brakes last over 5 years on my main bike, and more than a decade on secondary bikes.
I'll have a report on the new 4-pot XTs sometime in late October AFTER MY NEW SLASH ARRIVES!!!!
The talk about edging VS rounded tire profiles that TomK started was good stuff .It's a nuance that may escape a lot of people .
My goal for yesterday's Rabbit Mountain ride was to test myself against several descending features on the Eagle Wind loop. Since the floods several years ago, each of these is a tight turn with plenty of rocks and "walls" on either side. I wanted to see if they were as scary as I remembered, or if I've gradually improved to the point that I could ride them. I wore my G-Form shin and forearm pads for a little plastic courage.
The start was, perhaps, not auspicious. My digestive system was in revolt, so I took a few swigs of Pepto before I left the house and spent some quality time at the trailhead porta potty. Some people might reconsider riding at this point, but I'm made of sterner (dumber) stuff!
On the ride up, I wondered why my quads were so tired. Oh, right - deadlifts and squats the day before. This ride was getting better and better. But weirdly ... actually, it WAS going pretty well. While the deadlifts and squats and core work might make me sore, they also make me strong.
On the initial climb, I didn't biff even once. While there's nothing on that section that I haven't ridden, I've always managed to get stopped by something. This is the first time I cleaned the whole climb!
On the lollipop "stem" and throughout the Eagle Wind loop, I got stopped on numerous uphill features - just not enough oomph - but also cleared a few sections I'd never managed before.
On to the descending features. Each involves a bumpy series of rocks within a tight turn that has rock walls on either side. Since the floods washed out the trail several years ago, they've gotten gnarlier. The rocks wouldn't be too bad if you could ride straight down them, but you can't. You have to ride down these pointy rocks while making a tight turn with a diameter barely big enough to allow the bike to squeak through. And the rock walls keep you from seeing what's on the other side.
Three of these.
One, I just gathered my courage and rode down without stopping. The turn must be slightly wider on that one, so that I could see the whole thing. I was half sure I'd endo, but I made it through.
Two, I stopped. I looked at it from both above and below. I could see the line from below. But when I got back up to the top, I realized that on this day, there was no way I would be gutsy enough to ride it - I'd just end up braking to a halt again. So I saved it for some other day.
For number three, I again stopped and evaluated it from above and below. From below, the line was obvious, but not at all what I would have chosen without seeing the back side. I gathered my courage, hoped I wouldn't hurt myself - and rode it. Just fine.
The second, more climb-y half of the loop involves a long, boring slog. Someone had kindly filled the trail with loose gravel and sand. I tried to ride it, but I felt like Atreu in the swamp of sadness, begging his horse to keep moving. My tires lost more and more traction until I was slowly spinning in place. I had to walk a few feet, then start again, being very careful to choose the least-worst sections.
The top of the sloggy climb:
Past that, there's a section with a bunch of descending rock ledges - sort of stairs, but each "step" is more than a bike length long, super wide, and the "drops" are only a few inches. I remember that when I started riding this trail, it was *such* a mental effort to choose to ride it rather than walking. I also remember picking my way down the sections with the smallest drops. Of course, that was almost 15 years ago. No sweat now.
I chose counter clockwise as my preferred direction years ago. I should probably check out the other direction, see how I do these days.
Getting back to the initial fork, I couldn't decide if I wanted to ride to the Overlook or not. I checked my distance - only four miles. Okay. Maybe I'd just ride that really gnarly rocky climb, then call it quits.
I was immediately rewarded for my choice. I saw a deer in the meadow on the right side of the trail. It looked at me indecisively, then bounded off to the left. I looked farther to the right, and sure enough, I saw two more fully grown deer and a fawn. For once, they didn't bolt when I slowly pulled out my camera.
Can you find the deer scoping me from behind the bushes?
Mom and baby:
The climb. That nasty, nasty climb. I always pick my way up it, seeking the line, and I always get stuck. Many many times. Like maybe eight or ten. I had a thought. How about, instead of picking a line, I simply rode up the middle and trusted my bike to roll up everything? I wouldn't be meandering left and right, expending mental and physical energy by diverting my course.
This worked really well. I still got stopped several times, but I rode over a lot of things I would normally have ridden around, and I definitely got stopped less frequently, and the stops were less alarming (because I wasn't at an angle to the trail). I was also well clear of any snakes that might have been hiding in the brush on either side. I was reminded of a ski instructor's guidance - not sure of the exact wording, but basically, "Level eights pick a line and then commit. Level nines commit and then ski the line." I was doing the latter, and it was paying off!
And I didn't stop at the top of the climb. Rode out to the overlook, then back. It was a good ride.
Rabbit Mountain is no longer a popular mountain biking trail. I saw only one other person on a bike. When I started, it was marked as beginner/intermediate - but it was a total sandbag. Still, it was your only choice between Betasso and the next hardest trail, Heil. The technical features I mentioned earlier weren't so eroded. Picture Rock didn't exist, nor did Antelope, nor did the Benjamin loop at Betasso. As far as I knew, Rabbit was my best local option. I rode it frequently, probably 15-20 times a season. I got heartily sick of it.
Compared to modern trails, Rabbit doesn't have much (any) flow. It's just rocky sections and less rocky sections, except for a sandy slog. The turns are too tight. It was designed for hiking, not biking. It's short - ride both forks, and you still only get 6 miles. And yet ... and yet ... I like to hit it a few times every season. I don't know if it's nostalgia, or the draw of several sections I've never cleared. Facing my fear because of that one time I sprained my angle badly on an uphill ledge. Whatever the reason, I ride it.
The start was, perhaps, not auspicious. My digestive system was in revolt, so I took a few swigs of Pepto before I left the house and spent some quality time at the trailhead porta potty. Some people might reconsider riding at this point, but I'm made of sterner (dumber) stuff!
On the ride up, I wondered why my quads were so tired. Oh, right - deadlifts and squats the day before. This ride was getting better and better. But weirdly ... actually, it WAS going pretty well. While the deadlifts and squats and core work might make me sore, they also make me strong.
On the initial climb, I didn't biff even once. While there's nothing on that section that I haven't ridden, I've always managed to get stopped by something. This is the first time I cleaned the whole climb!
On the lollipop "stem" and throughout the Eagle Wind loop, I got stopped on numerous uphill features - just not enough oomph - but also cleared a few sections I'd never managed before.
On to the descending features. Each involves a bumpy series of rocks within a tight turn that has rock walls on either side. Since the floods washed out the trail several years ago, they've gotten gnarlier. The rocks wouldn't be too bad if you could ride straight down them, but you can't. You have to ride down these pointy rocks while making a tight turn with a diameter barely big enough to allow the bike to squeak through. And the rock walls keep you from seeing what's on the other side.
Three of these.
One, I just gathered my courage and rode down without stopping. The turn must be slightly wider on that one, so that I could see the whole thing. I was half sure I'd endo, but I made it through.
Two, I stopped. I looked at it from both above and below. I could see the line from below. But when I got back up to the top, I realized that on this day, there was no way I would be gutsy enough to ride it - I'd just end up braking to a halt again. So I saved it for some other day.
For number three, I again stopped and evaluated it from above and below. From below, the line was obvious, but not at all what I would have chosen without seeing the back side. I gathered my courage, hoped I wouldn't hurt myself - and rode it. Just fine.
The second, more climb-y half of the loop involves a long, boring slog. Someone had kindly filled the trail with loose gravel and sand. I tried to ride it, but I felt like Atreu in the swamp of sadness, begging his horse to keep moving. My tires lost more and more traction until I was slowly spinning in place. I had to walk a few feet, then start again, being very careful to choose the least-worst sections.
The top of the sloggy climb:
Past that, there's a section with a bunch of descending rock ledges - sort of stairs, but each "step" is more than a bike length long, super wide, and the "drops" are only a few inches. I remember that when I started riding this trail, it was *such* a mental effort to choose to ride it rather than walking. I also remember picking my way down the sections with the smallest drops. Of course, that was almost 15 years ago. No sweat now.
I chose counter clockwise as my preferred direction years ago. I should probably check out the other direction, see how I do these days.
Getting back to the initial fork, I couldn't decide if I wanted to ride to the Overlook or not. I checked my distance - only four miles. Okay. Maybe I'd just ride that really gnarly rocky climb, then call it quits.
I was immediately rewarded for my choice. I saw a deer in the meadow on the right side of the trail. It looked at me indecisively, then bounded off to the left. I looked farther to the right, and sure enough, I saw two more fully grown deer and a fawn. For once, they didn't bolt when I slowly pulled out my camera.
Can you find the deer scoping me from behind the bushes?
Mom and baby:
The climb. That nasty, nasty climb. I always pick my way up it, seeking the line, and I always get stuck. Many many times. Like maybe eight or ten. I had a thought. How about, instead of picking a line, I simply rode up the middle and trusted my bike to roll up everything? I wouldn't be meandering left and right, expending mental and physical energy by diverting my course.
This worked really well. I still got stopped several times, but I rode over a lot of things I would normally have ridden around, and I definitely got stopped less frequently, and the stops were less alarming (because I wasn't at an angle to the trail). I was also well clear of any snakes that might have been hiding in the brush on either side. I was reminded of a ski instructor's guidance - not sure of the exact wording, but basically, "Level eights pick a line and then commit. Level nines commit and then ski the line." I was doing the latter, and it was paying off!
And I didn't stop at the top of the climb. Rode out to the overlook, then back. It was a good ride.
Rabbit Mountain is no longer a popular mountain biking trail. I saw only one other person on a bike. When I started, it was marked as beginner/intermediate - but it was a total sandbag. Still, it was your only choice between Betasso and the next hardest trail, Heil. The technical features I mentioned earlier weren't so eroded. Picture Rock didn't exist, nor did Antelope, nor did the Benjamin loop at Betasso. As far as I knew, Rabbit was my best local option. I rode it frequently, probably 15-20 times a season. I got heartily sick of it.
Compared to modern trails, Rabbit doesn't have much (any) flow. It's just rocky sections and less rocky sections, except for a sandy slog. The turns are too tight. It was designed for hiking, not biking. It's short - ride both forks, and you still only get 6 miles. And yet ... and yet ... I like to hit it a few times every season. I don't know if it's nostalgia, or the draw of several sections I've never cleared. Facing my fear because of that one time I sprained my angle badly on an uphill ledge. Whatever the reason, I ride it.
Attachments
Another nice morning ride before work. This was the same casual loop as last time but backwards ( I actually can ride a bike backwards )
Crack of Dawn
Just light enough to mis most obstacles
Quiet on the reservoir
Why am I going to work??????
Crack of Dawn
Just light enough to mis most obstacles
Quiet on the reservoir
Why am I going to work??????
The best way to stop doing drugs is to not start..
Whats the worst that could happen?
Reverend Jim:
Gorgeous!
I didn't know you could do the first, I'll have to try that out this coming season......
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