Fall Rides

Lyle on Sidewinder

“I was drinking in the surroundings: air so crisp you could snap it with your fingers and greens in every lush shade imaginable offset by autumnal flashes of red and yellow.” Wendy Delsol

Fall is without a doubt the best time of year to ride. Spring is buggy, muddy and has a chill that I can never warm up to. Summer sticks with the bugs but replaces the cold with sweltering air you can barely breathe. Winter? Well, there is nothing really wrong with pedaling in snow, but it still doesn't quite hold up to Autumn.

In my racing days, fall signaled the end of the riding year, rolling in the final races of the season, concluding with the Chequamegon 40-the Christmas and New Years of the fat tire world. The workout season is over and it's time to “just ride.” That philosophy of non-training now carries me throughout the year and I can pedal to no strict regiment or because I have to. Okay, not quite true, I do “have to” ride in the fall. As Delsol writes, I so look forward to “drinking in the surroundings,” many times frantically not knowing what to do or where to go first. There are so many things pulling me in different directions, if only October were twelve weeks long. The black lab prances after work, convinced we'll be toting a shotgun chasing birds, the backpack waits to be slung on a shoulder and a tree stand impatiently expects my return. There are leaves to shuffle under foot as well and wildlife to photograph. But the mountain bike leaning in the corner is most anxious because I am. Those knobbie tires need to run over the carpet of yellow, orange and red in the woods, not always quite sure were the trail lies hidden beneath.

Yellow Carpet Ride

Eventually, each fall pursuit will get it's share of my time, but never enough and I feel the same way. Luckily for me, others concur and my bike is more than willing to share some singletrack with company. Biker friends from Madison arrived at their favorite trail (and mine) on what could only be described as a perfect autumn weekend. Trees in full color, that “crisp” air surrounding us and the scent in the breeze that only waifs by when leaves tumble to the earth.

Like myself, Lyle, Kelsey and Kat had no interest in a discipled ride of heart rates and average miles per hour. We were turning pedals and rolling tires to just soak this season in at whatever pace necessary not to miss it. Favorite routes like Sidewinder and Wolf Run (at Levis Mound) were revisited, this time with so much more color and snap. Riding some in reverse of usual added a new dimension, nearly like discovering a brand new trail. Other mountain bikers had similar ideas and it was nice to meet here and there along the trail. “Remember this,” I thought to myself, as the bike carved corners and scattered popple and oak leaves behind. This season would soon be gone and homage must be paid by stopping frequently, taking a few pictures and breathing it all in.

Kelsey & Kat & Yellowjacket

Days like these pass quickly and too soon the bikes roll to a stop at the trailhead leaving me to wonder how much I missed out there. There is always more to take in. While my friends refueled and readied for another ride, the other fall interests tugged me away from taking another spin...reluctantly. More hours in a day? More days in this month? I can only dream, dream of just one more ride in this perfect time of year.

Sidewinder in Fall

Wild Ride

The Sound of Fall

It happens every year about now and most would miss it-one has to spend many hours in the woods to catch on and be reminded of what is to come.  It’s the sound of fall.  Not anything loud and in your face, like fall colors, but rather just subtle things that you pick up on and think-“ oh yeah, it’s almost here, autumn is around the corner.”

The subject came up the other day when trail builder Butch McCumber and I were digging dirt, bench cutting a section of mountain bike trail on a hot humid summer morning.  Sweat had already drenched our clothes, arms were getting sore, but we’d made good progress.  Then it was there- high and unseen, a Blue Jay sounded an alarm call, having seen something of concern and letting the woods know.  Other animals can decipher that call and are put on alert.  Butch and I heard it and remarked- “fall is coming.” We both bow hunt and that alarm is one we hear too frequently, as the jays point out to every living creature- “There he is, there HE IS….THERE, in that tree…a man!” In times like that, we just want the raucous bird to just shut up, but in August, it’s a reminder that our favorite time of year is coming, one that will come and go too soon.

Squirrels will do the same thing, that scratchy-squealy alarm call peeking out from behind a trunk and then there are crows-forming their flocks and calling out in seemingly hundreds of curious vocalizations.  To us, it’s just saying the next season will be here soon.

There are other signs as well.  Already, white birch and butternuts are turning yellow and dropping leaves-alarmingly too soon it seems.  Daylight is barley showing itself at 5:00am, when a few weeks ago the day was awake and ready to go.  Sandhill cranes down the road, who were just fluff balls on stilts earlier are now lifting off with their parents.  Fall mushrooms like Black Trumpets and Hen of the Woods are showing up as well, but it’s those sounds that really signal to me what is about to happen.  It’ll be confirmed soon enough when nature mixes in the smell of fall-that dry leaf earthy smell as color begins to litter the forest floor.  At that time, it’ll be a done deal- Autumn is here- the sounds had predicted it’s arrival correctly and I’ll be lovin every minute of it.

Colour

Fall colour?  I always liked that spelling and I do have French blood in me, so there it is.  It was time-time to get out and make some fall pictures, not always an easy thing to do because haven't they all been done before?  So many times I resist those brilliant trees, the cascading leaves and the carpet of color underfoot because someone else has already made those photographs better than I.

I decided-no matter.....the camera would be tucked into my game vest while the shotgun was cradled in my arm and the lab running around in search of all good things only dogs can smell.  Yeah, I called it hunting this afternoon, but maybe not for birds, I just needed to be in the woods.  Tenley had just gotten married and the past couple days have been like a wedding hangover-so much effort and emotion had been spent that now some quiet reflective time was needed.  Maybe that was what I really was hunting for. 

Fall is my favorite time of year by far-it starts when the crows and blue jays become much more vocal in late August and the early ferns start turning yellow.  Something in me stirs, to use a cliche, (but true) and I look forward to the change of seasons.  It's a bit frantic in a way, for autumn is short and there are so many things pulling me every direction that I love to do and experience then.  The sight of full blown color, the smell which I wish one could bottle and the sound of shuffled leaves or flushed birds cures any and all things that stress a daily life.  So that is why the camera shot many more things than the gun and even when the game bag was empty, it couldn't have been a more successful hunt.  I hit the shutter with no regard for what anyone else may have ever taken a picture of-I was shooting for myself and what I liked.  I enjoyed the result, even if I'm the only one who ever sees these images- they are a gentle reminder that sometimes I just have to make pictures for myself, for no other reason and be okay with it.  These are my favorites from a couple days of wandering in the forest.

Gold Vault

Shadowland

Yellow Crown

Sandy Lane

Wedges Creek High Bank

Arboretum Maple

Trickle Creek in Arboretum