Opening Day

It's known as the winter that wasn't, but was. Cold temps, lack of snow, but also no melting the whole season. For winter fat bike riders it was great. That said, there is a longing this time of year to get knobbie tires on dirt-real dirt on real trails.

Opening day at the trailhead is like giddy kids in toyland. Every rider and bike of every size and shape squeezes into any remaining parking slot. Such was the case at Levis Mound Trail this past weekend-Opening day in southern Clark County. Levis is blessed and cursed to have very light sandy soils, and just 2 weeks ago we were on packed snow-what a difference a week or two of warm weather makes.

Typically, the trail shuts down in March or April to allow spring thaw to allow a drying period. There are no hard opening and closing dates-Mother Nature dictates that. This year, with minimal snow cover, the singletrack was ridable much quicker than expected. With social media and web sites announcing trail conditions, it's possible to inform the riding public on a short timeline. They were ready.

The Levis Mound Facebook page had constant inquiries about as soon as the last snowflake disappeared. Patience...difficult for some-especially the non-fatbike crowd who haven't turned a pedal all winter. Our scouts and volunteer trail builders started in almost immediately checking the status of the quickly drying trail and digging dirt for re-routes. Not that there really was pressure to have maintenance and re-routes done by the opener, but when you have help-one wants to take advantage of it. Grub hoes were slinging in ernest.

Once the call was made to open her up-word spread like wildfire. Riders from all over the midwest posted on the websites-Levis was possibly the first trail open to riding for the 2015 season. A small hiccup of snow showed up a few days before, but melted and still allowed for good riding. Some north facing trails clung to snowcover a bit longer and riders on fatbikes held an advantage, giving the illusion of multi-season riding in one day. The recent trail work was welcomed and riders who made the trip to West Central Wisconsin, got their money's worth-long rides and frequent stops at scenic vistas-no shortage of them here.

As a trail builder here for 30 odd years, and head instigator of a sorts, it was a blast to be out riding by myself-stopping to chat with others and snapping as many photos as I could. A friendlier crowd of bikers you won't find. Luckily Levis has an extensive 25 mile network of singletrack, so even though there were a lot of riders-they tend to spread out and you're left feeling you have the place to yourself.

Post ride was time for a beverage or two and chatting with visitors-some who have been here before- others, like a pilot/rider from Appleton, set a small bush plane in a farm field down the road, changed into riding gear and had a wonderful day on the trail. Departing late in the day-he did a fly over and wing wag to the trailhead crew below.

Just like in baseball-opening day is a highly anticipated event and getting dirt under the tires signals the start of a new season. Weather is fickle, and within 24 hours, the trail was covered in freezing rain and sleet, but she'll bounce back quickly and mountain bike riders will return. “You always get a special kick on opening day, no matter how many you go through. You look forward to it like a birthday party when you're a kid. You think something wonderful is going to happen. - Joe DiMaggio.

I totally agree.

Beauty on a Plain Day

The Beauty of a Plain Day

Winter's end is near-the signs are unmistakeable. Crust has formed on ski and bike trails and every square inch of snow in the forest-burned and melded by the high March sun-regardless of temperature. It can be one of my favorite times of year, tho my heart belongs to fall-it's just that the re-birth of the year is starting and it's something to look forward to.

A less than impressive half inch of snow covered the singletrack I headed out on, what a few days ago had been boilplate hard and fast. My hope was to get an easy spin on the fatbike before that ever strengthening sun finally wins the day this month. Shady portions of the trail were solid, but breaking out into the open forest left me floudering in a softer base. The gloomy overcast day didn't help my frustration as I pushed the big bike toward a firmer ski trail. I figured the skiers had abandoned the season now and the wide trail may provide some pedaling relief. It did, and it offered another perspective of the surrounding woods. Riding singletrack, ones attention is focused mostly on keeping the wheels on the ribbon of trail and not biffing into a snowbank. Now I could pedal easy and scope the forest on either side watching for wildlife or noticing subtle landforms I'd missed before.

The ski trail stretched out ahead-totally unblemished, a thin blanket of undisturbed snow. A surface I love to explore- revealing any tracks, and all sign that animals had been out and about this day. But none, save for a squirrel bounding across the path here and there in search of their final stash of food. Disappointing, but okay-keep moving onward, keep the cranks turning. Ahead maybe evidence of deer, wolf, fisher, or maybe an awakening bear in search of anything to quell it's hunger. Nope. It was virgin snow at every bend in the trail.

Moving forward, further from the trailhead, it began to sink in that even with the darkening thick cloud cover and haziness enveloping the trees nearby, there was a beauty here. This carefree riding afforded me a chance to ”stop and smell the roses” as they say and I did. My previous ride a few days ago had been crunchy and clear, very cold and crisp-the opposite of this silent plain day. There was something here to appreciate. After spending every day with not-so-quiet elementary aged kids, the stillness surrounding me, that muffled sound of tires on snow, was so welcome.

I didn't yet have a plan for how I'd return to the chalet-my starting point. The usual loop would be too soft to ride and I didn't relish the idea of tackling the huge hills ahead on the black diamond ski trail. I could jump on a logging road perhaps and take the long way around. Even on the timber trail, that veneer of snow continued pristine ahead revealing little activity and dampening all noise except my breathing. The next road was impassible so option B was to hop on the deserted hard pack sno-mo trail. A wise choice it turned out, for the wind was at my back the grade easy and the miles could be covered as quickly as I wanted to pedal.

The final home stretch was a softening muddy town road and my bike searched out the shoulders where snow had yet to melt and she could remain a bit cleaner. The beauty of this unremarkable day and ride began to fade as the realization that many miles lie ahead and cars and trucks had churned the road into spring slop-my very least favorite riding surface. But the fat tires help, floating for the most part on top and making the effort doable even with tired legs. Like winter, the worst was behind and after dumping a few gears cresting the final climb, I realized I'd make it, this unplanned route taking me to new places and revealing a new aesthetic on a plain day.

Ageless Fatbiking

We’ve all done it.  We see some of the same people at a trailhead from time to time, even recognizing their vehicle or their bike or the skis they snap into, but for whatever reason, we fail to introduce ourselves.  Opportunity lost I guess.  I’m guilty-I’ll sometimes be in a hurry to just start pedaling or poling and want to be away from the parking lot as quickly as possible.  An introduction might include that I’m a trail builder and groomer here and at times I want to be unanimous.   Those were mistakes I’d made when I’d see an older gentleman pull up on his bike, take a drink of water from his bottle and load the truck that had long been sitting at the trailhead.  Retired, I’d guess (and was correct) with unlimited time to ride.  What stopped me when I saw him this winter was the Pugsley he rolled in on- a fellow fatbiker…. Now  I needed to walk over and talk riding-sort of the last straw to an introduction.

Rod Villand is a Westby native and has retired from his La Crosse Wisconsin painting business and owns a cabin nearby. A good reason to frequent my home turf of Levis Mound.  If anything can become a common kindship, it’s unloading a fatbike and taking it for a spin.  The tribe of us fatbikers is still small in number, and I think that is what bonds us yet -and I like that. 

I’d heard about Rod from another friend who’d seen him pull up with a small trials motorcycle in the back of his truck-something more rare than fatbikes are to be sure.  He’d been a competitive trials rider in the Midwest starting in the mid ‘70s after a stint on dirt bikes prior to that.  Mountain bikes first came along in the ‘80’s and he re-called riding those early bullmoose handlebar rigid bikes on the very first trails I began building at Levis Mound.  Those trails were rough-we really didn’t know much about trail building then, but they were good enough to make it from his cabin 4 miles away, explore the mounds and return.  Even in those days, he was hardcore enough to slap studded tires on his bike and pedal nearby snowmobile trails- “Snowbiking” before snowbiking was cool (pun intended).

Owning and running your own business meant a hiatus from cycling for a number of years, but luckily for myself, his retirement put dirt back under his tires and a new friend on our trails.  When asked “why a fatbike?”  He said he was just “fascinated by the much larger tires,” which connected him to his motorcycling days.  When he speaks of bikes-the pedal or motorcycle variety, there is a kid-like sparkle in his eyes, something I’ve seen often while cruising singletrack together or chatting back at the trailhead.  He obviously loves riding-sand, rock,  snow….doesn’t matter.  A shop from La Crosse let him demo a Pugsley at Levis and that was all it took, he was sold.  The thought of riding anywhere, at anytime of year was “very appealing.” 

Like any mountain biker, soon tweaks and modifications start popping up on your ride.  Most fatbikers depend on, and are happy with the suspension afforded by the big tires, but being 67 years old and still banging off rocks and roots required a little more cush on the front end.  A Maveric fork was swapped in for the rigid one and Rod reported a much easier recovery on the shoulders after riding.  Seeing as our newly formed winter riding group had just gained a few new bikers, he did have a worry about keeping up with other riders  (I think it was a little unfounded-the guy can ride!).   He decided the next addition would be a Bionx electric assist on the bike.  Although seriously worried it would be “wimpy” to use one, the desire to be able to ride longer and more aggressively won out.  “There are 4 settings on the assist, and I figure each one is good for every five years of my age.”  The Bionx only kicks in when torque is applied to the pedals, so one still has to ride hard to make it all work.  “On the climbs at Levis my tongue would be in the spokes without it!” 

There seems to be a friendliness that flows through the fatbike scene and the people that ride them- the big fat tires opening a door to conversation, stories of rides and of trails. It is a connection and for myself, one that got me across the parking lot to meet a new friend. “When you’re retired, you have a lot more time to play, and my fatbike set-up helps me ride consecutive days, with younger friends and hopefully for more years.”  I hope so too Rod. Age doesn’t seem to matter, just the love of riding and wanting to get out the door.   I won’t make the same mistake of missing those opportunities to meet new people-if anything, introducing myself to Rod cured that and I’m grateful.