The Recovery Ride

After your first day of cycling, one dream is inevitable. A memory of motion lingers in the muscles of your legs, and round and round they seem to go. You ride through Dreamland on wonderful dream bicycles that change and grow. ~ H.G. Wells

I thought I could remember how to ride-how to pedal, how to spin the cranks 'round and 'round. But I couldn't. That memory, that Wells speaks to, is still there somewhere inside me. But it is a bit too distant to power through the snow a week ago. Four months away from the bike was a bit too much to make riding that day a “wonderful dream.” That was then and gradually I'm finding my legs again.

I'd pedaled just once previous to my “real” snowbike ride last week and that ride signaled that it could be a long road ahead. The packed singletrack at Levis Mound finally needed to be ridden if I were really going to test my fitness. I'd be totally surprised if I passed the exam. Although Levis is a popular trail for snowbiking (and XC skiing) I felt relieved that I could escape the parking lot by myself-no point in embarrassing myself or holding anyone else back. Bundled up in the barely single digit temps, the unfamiliar motion of my legs turning pedals prompted me down the trail. The snowbike trail groomer guys do excellent work here and although the snow couldn't be better, I struggled with every incline. The trail is nearly tabletop flat, but no matter, the shifters were constantly searching for the right (easiest) gear.

What we call the base loop at Levis is just over five kilometers and I knew better than to tackle anything more. At the halfway point, my lungs and legs burned and I seriously wondered if I'd make it (knowing no matter what, I would have to). Cycling usually cheers me up, but this struggle was pushing my moral down in a hurry. Every familiar turn in the trail, every snowy bridge I traversed, brought me closer to ending this frustration. The final few hundred meters were the worst-the chalet was in sight, but all I could do is look at the big fat tires to see if they were flat or not.

The following day was much the same-I left my two riding partners a short time after we started and bid them well-I was gassed already. Backtracking to the previous trail intersection, I explored the base loop again with about the same results. Feeling like a whipped puppy, I stowed the fatbike away and vowed to keep at it until I there was some semblance of legs astride my bike. A midweek ride and a couple classic ski outings gave me a little hope-it seemed I could breathe again.

Spirits lifted somewhat, I set about thinking maybe we should have a no-rider-left-behind ride on the long loop. I hoped the no drop idea would keep me with riding partners anyway. A Facebook ride event was created and I soon had a few brave souls that would join me. The 9 mile long course is no easy ride (for me) so this would be jumping in with both feet and I hoped I'd have understanding bikers in case I faltered. Just to keep things reasonable, I took the lead, feeling the rest of the gang really should have an “easy recovery ride” so to speak. The memory of how riding on snow was supposed to feel started to drift back and the ribbon of white through the woods flowed beneath the fatty as it should. There was no illusion of spinning up the more difficult climbs-just mashing whatever gear I could to make it over the top. The difference this day was I could recover and continue onto the next section of packed powder. “Yeah, this is going much better” I thought-I am going to pull though this trial and actually enjoy it! The guys were great at encouraging me and maybe they saw too that  I was on the road to recovery. This time, with each recognizable section of singletrack rolling past, I felt more and more confident-not that I wasn't tired, but at the least my demeanor improved.

By the end of the outing over an hour and half had passed and I felt a sense of accomplishment when the bike rumbled across the trailhead parking lot. That feeling had usually been reserved for the end of epic races or terribly difficult adventures on the bike or skis. Today it was back-and it felt good. For the rest of this biker gang, it was a stroll in the park I'm sure and the post ride banter was of how perfect the snow was, the prime conditions and how great the ride was. I couldn't agree more.

2013 In Images

Sunset-North Dakota

End of the year.  I could look ahead and decide to tackle some big photography project, like a 365 or something, but instead, I decided to just look back.  I've done this  for years now and it's always interesting to relive little things as I flip through the photographs.  I didn't strictly stick to one per month and they are not all great photos.  They're selected because of why we make pictures.  To make something beautiful, to relive a memory and to record an important event.  More or less chronological, enjoy the past year in pictures.

Deep Winter

Happy Holidays!

The Joy of Crust Biking

Pedaling the Sweaty Yeti

Head Coach Melting in South Korea

The Big Snow

The Sandhills are Early

Sturtz Prairie in Winter

East Snow Creek Turkey Woods

Horn Lake Camp

Isle Royal Beach

Gnomefest Derby

Oxbo Paddle

Molly in Blind-North Dakota

Frustration

Happy Trey

Dave Spreading Deeks

Snowy Owl Invasion of 2013

Trey and Gpa

Lights and Shadows

Beach Ride

The Beach

Clark County Beach?  Well, not many and too small to qualify as a suitable location for a beach ride.  I’ve always been a bit envious of the fatbike stories I see about riders who maybe live close to Lake Michigan or Superior and have the opportunity to roll along for miles on end on uninterrupted sand.  Ironically,  located 150 miles from the nearest great lake, we actually have miles of uninterrupted sand as well.  So it’s not a beach, and there is no water edge, but we do have sand, the Clark County Forest ATV trails with no shortage of motorheads churnin up the soil, produce gobs of it.

Although the locals here call Levis Mound home, we do venture off singletrack from time to time to explore or at the very least,  have a change of scenery.  The subject of a “beach ride” came up over a few beverages and since fatbikes are our ride of choice, it was a perfect match.  Back in the day, we used to organize a mountain bike century-the “Quad Quiver”, but now, ATVs have the old trails tilled up into miles of deep sand-unrideable for normal mountain bikes.

Being fairly smart-the plan was to get onto the trails early in the morning (ATV riders seem to sleep in) when traffic is low and temps cooler.  Our jumping off point being Rock Dam, north west of Neillsville and ATV central.  Good friends and fatbike fans Dan and Laura happen to live there and with their Pugsleys,  and a quick dip of tires on the public beach, we headed out.  It soon became apparent that even in deep powdery sand, the big treads float very well and we could make our way smoothly down the white ribbon of trail.   The forestry department if often awarded ATV maintenance funds from the state gas tax, so in some parts of the forest, the “trails” are very much like gravel hiways.  Here, the terrain is fairly flat, so the natural sand, a few inches below the top soil, is what makes up a majority of the riding surface.  Our itinerary was to ride a 5 or 6 mile loop in the Rock Dam area to see how we felt.  The wheels rolled along well, and soon we passed by our return loop and ventured further-why not, the fatties were performing great in the loose sand.  Dan had ATV’d some of these trail many years earlier and there was some uncertainty as to exactly where we were.  Some east and west power lines and north and south forest roads helped with dead reckoning luckily.  We stumbled on what may be the only “waterfall” in Clark County-a little gem on the South Fork of the Eau Claire River.  A perfect place to just relax for a while and debate where we were. 

Knowing we needed to head south to return, we followed a forest road-fresh with skidder and logging truck tracks into a huge oak timber sale.  The road dead ended with no clear way out, so reluctantly we reversed course until hitting the powerline again, and decided to bushwack down that-luckily, the fatbikes handle about everything and we were able to mow down tall swamp grass and hidden ruts and make our way back to civilization, a few miles from our starting point.  Riding a bit of pavement back set our tires buzzing we rolled into Rock Dam no handed and feeling good after the three hour adventure-our first “beach ride” a success.  Nothing wrong with a little fatbike exploring and getting lost for a spell.  As J. R. R. Tolkien  said: “Not all those who wander are lost.”  I couldn’t agree more.