Just Ride

This spring exploded out of the door just 2 days after snowcover welcomed snowshoes and skis in early March. Pow! It arrived. Sure, we had a few stubborn snows after that, but in truth, we knew spring was winning the good fight. As such, any open mountain bike trail in the state is going gang busters and Levis Mound, (www.levismound.com) one of the first, has had 3 weekends of packed parking lots. Not that it matters, with 25 miles of singletrack, riders spread out quickly.

It seems that early season also brings out mountain bike enthusiasts of all types, shapes and sizes. Some maybe with shiny new rides, others with solely a resolution to just ride more often and this is their start. It makes for interesting people watching post ride outside the chalet. My little gang of trail building friends are no different. Some of them like the latest greatest full suspension rig- sporting gram saving carbon and Ti doo-dads, and others just clip into last years dirt caked mongrel steel steed.

Relaxing in old camp chairs, we sip our beverages and conversation moves back and forth between the next new wheel size (“28.2” wheels-they'll be awesome and I'll be killin it!”) and lamenting the poor souls lifting old school 26” bikes from their racks. “Those look so tiny” -commenting on the bikes that were perfectly fine for all of us a few short years ago. Yeah, they still do work you know.

My friend Dan is on the old school-steel-is-real end of the spectrum. He's built up a rare “69er” which you'd be hard pressed to see at any trail head, rides a single speed 29+ Krampus and a fatbike. He loves to give people grief anytime the weight weeny conversation gets too serious. I like that. He'll tirelessly needle folks anytime the chatter is more about the bike than the ride. Sure-we all like the hardware, but it shouldn't come at the cost of why we're out there in the first place. Sometimes we need reminders of that.

I like riding with Dan- he's fit and can hammer with the fast dudes who power up and down the Levis trails, but he keeps it all in perspective and I'll join him for a no-drop-just-ride-along as well. I'm not in the jet set racer mode mentality any longer, so I appreciate going my own pace and riding within my ability-fitness or skill wise. I can use the excuse that I want to enjoy the time outdoors “just riding” (and that is true) but to be honest, I wish I still had the horsepower to keep up. It is what it is. “Next month I'll be in better shape.” Dan's favorite prevailing philosophy may be “Just ride and shut up.” That, and don't take yourself too seriously- “pass the flask dude.”

The conglomeration of bikes continued to stream past us in the parking lot. An old Klein Mantra, a brown 26” Schwinn High Sierra, four bar linkage suspension bikes, a 750B and enough single speeders to keep my quads quivering. Strutting riders in their flashy new 2015 kits walk by all serious, others in tattered shorts and t-shirts with shin guards not so much. Some pay their trail fee others sadly “forget.” The no helmet people are the most worrisome-they, if anyone, need the protection the most. They all continue to parade by, click in and head out the trailhead entrance. It's all good.

It's dirt on your legs that is more important than the latest greatest gizmo and what bike you're on seems to disappear once the pedals are spinning. While Dan loves his steel, I'm not a frame material zealot-I've had them all and am on a bamboo bike at the moment for gods sake! They all worked and got me out the door pedaling. Earlier in the day, my little group sported a fatbike, a couple single speeds, a pair of 29+, a full zoot FS and a lightweight 29er hardtail. Quite an array. We stopped every once and a while, waited, chatted it up, viewed the scenery and kept the Strava feeds mostly at bay. That's riding in my book.

“The best bikes aren’t at the extreme ends of the functionality spectrum, so specialized that they’re a bike-length away from dysfunctionality. The best ones are boring jacks-of-many-trades, and you stretch them to their limits with skill and experience.” ― Grant Petersen

I'll admit-back in the race days there was a new bike in the garage every year and any new shiny thing had to be hung on it. I followed the sport and it's iterations constantly. Cost was almost no object and I figured I needed all of that to make me a better cyclist. Those folks, like my old self, will always be there, and I was knee deep in it. Nothing wrong with all that per se, but in hind sight, it didn't make the ride any better.

It seems, as really has always been the case, the best rides are ones with no agenda, no attitude and they unfold with no regard to the clock or a distance travelled. Legs can burn or not, wheels can roll solo or with others, and training logs are forgotten or not even considered. Maybe it's my age, my wisdom (ha) or maybe it's just an appreciation of how lucky I am to be doing this at all. Just ride.

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

First Dirt

I once wrote about the “in-between season” before snow arrives where one changes outdoor equipment, bikes to shotguns, shotguns to skis.  In the “spring” it usually reverses and skis are traded back to bikes or turkey guns or bows.  With the advent of fat bikes, the two wheels were never tucked away, and ran right alongside the skinny skis more or less.  Maybe there is no in-between season now?  Of all the seasons, spring is my least favorite with the only saving grace being turkey hunting.  This year, not only did spring never really arrive, but the birds seem few and far between as well.  Usually it’s slop for a few weeks, really no fun to bike in and the usual ATV and sno-mo trails take a long time to firm up, limiting riding opportunities. 

Luckily, even with snow stretching into May in places, Levis Mound can dry quickly and get us back to pedaling on decent trails.  With snow and a lot of rain as recently as the past week, I’d been anxiously waiting for a chance to “scout” Levis and report in on it’s drying progress.  With a beautiful day this past weekend providing the opportunity, I rolled out the door to explore.  Levis Mound is all sandstone and the surrounding singletrack, twisting and turning up and over the mounds tend to be sandy and dry quickly.  I stayed with my Salsa fatbike, now being my ride of choice year ‘round, and hit the trail.  

Surprisingly, even the lower trails were dry, with barely a puddle anywhere-I hadn’t expected that!  The climbs to the top of the mound would be bone dry I’d guessed and as I ascended to the upper routes, found I was correct.  Even with all the snowbiking this winter, I am not in bike season shape, so this day was one for just touring, stopping and clearing deadfalls, snapping some photos and just checking my bike handing skills.  An easy relaxing ride.  Levis Mound is blessed with five unique cliff side overlooks, and I had to visit each one-slowing rolling up to the edge and checking out the leafless forest below-an unusual view.  Turkey vultures rode the thermals surrounding the mound and pausing to watch with envy, gave me a chance to rest.  

Although I love riding the snowy packed singletrack with friends all winter, there is something special about the first ride on dirt by myself-almost cleansing after the long cold ‘tweener time of year.  Not wishing to pay the price too much for an early season ride, I exited Levis to start some downhill singletrack ripping, barely keeping the speed in check but smiling all the way.  Although more snow is forecast, the dirt is here to stay and I’ll be back with buddies to ride the rest of this gem of a trail. Lets start summer!

Crust Biking

The holy grail of cross country skiers-skate skiers, are the few rare days, sometimes just hours…..each spring known as “Crust Skiing.”  Until this “spring” I’d never considered that as something any other sport might long for.  I was wrong.  Enter “Crust Biking”. 

Mother nature needs her ducks in a row for crust skiing (or biking) to take place- warm, sun high in the sky spring days followed by a crash of temperatures during the overnight hours.  The colder the better for the crust will reach deeper into the snow surface providing a stronger lid on the snow pack.  For skiing, one can skate by (pun intended) with a slightly thinner surface, but as I found out for a fatbike, conditions need to be perfect.  Since the cross country crowds at Levis Mound have quietly abandoned skiing for the season, I decided to veer off our packed singletrack and do a trail “inspection” of the ski loops.  The previous day had been sunny and warm-almost 50 and the cold temps overnight produced boilerplate ski trails which barely noticed the fat tires skimming along on top.

It was the easiest pedaling of the year to be sure-almost no resistance except for the low pressures in the tires.  Deep, frozen slush deer, wolf and coyote tracks were a reminder of the previous day’s warmth and springs' return.  This base wouldn’t last long. Approaching an ungroomed trail, the thought started to wander into my head if it might be possible to ride unpacked snow-like I’ve always done crust skiing.  Would the crust be strong enough?  Would the tires have enough low ground pressure to keep me on top?  Without another thought, I turned onto the pure unblemished snow....and didn’t go a$$ over teakettle! I could hardly believe it was possible to do this-yet another vein of riding to chalk up to the fatbikes!  Floating along almost silently on this shell of snow made me feel like I could explore anywhere now.  Well, almost anywhere.  Suddenly I hit a spot when the sun hadn’t quite reached the day before and instantly both wheels dropped through.  I was stuck, still in the pedals sitting vertically…motionless. Hmmmm, dismounting, and pulling the tires free I moved down the trail and found a stronger crust to continue on.  Soon, one learns which snow will provide the strength and where to avoid.  There are subtle nuances in the seemingly uniform snow pack.  Places that angle toward the sun will be great, shady corners, out of the reach of the sun, will not work and one will be punching through constantly.

Discovering that there was such a thing as crust biking set me off in search of other suitable snow.  Large clear cuts should provide the proper mixture and I headed off toward several in the Levis Mound area.  It was crazy to be riding along anywhere in those spots-free to explore terrain we never venture into.  Swampy wet areas were perfect-they were still frozen and the snow crust covering perfect to ride on.  I know this land well, but “crusting” opened so much more territory….temporarily.

As much joy as I was having this morning-it would end all to soon.  By late morning, the sun already was high and the tires rolling on the surface started to make a different sound-almost like the snow was groaning unto the weight of bike and it’s peddler.  Cracking the surface with more frequency eventually forced me back to our singletrack-there the riding was still rock solid.  My window of crust biking was over for the day.

Looking at the forecast, I may have one or two more chances at the new form of fatbiking-just maybe.  Rain was moving in, which would really make a good crust, as long as cold overnight temps get mixed in.  If so, I’ll be back out, full grin on my face and taking advantage of a new found freedom on a fatbike.