The grand plan was to meet Josh, drive the fat-tire bikes up to the Peak to Peak, ride down on singletrack/dirt roads, then ride the skinny tire bikes back up for the car. You know, a little something-different adventure.

We got off to a rocky start, with Josh already having brake problems when we’re barely out of sight of the car.

Damn roadie. He looks great in lycra but his mtn bike always needs work.

And I was doing no better — even though I brought two pairs of socks, I managed to leave them both in Josh’s car in Boulder. Great. Nonetheless, we set out with a positive attitude that the day was going to be fun.

After stopping every ninety seconds to consult the map, we found our way to one of the rad singletracks we were seeking.

It was a great little slice of trail, narrow and hardly worn in some places. We also found some sections that were rutted and washed out, in that way that semi-secret trails aren’t always sustainable.

At the bottom of this, I just couldn’t handle the sockless riding anymore. It’s truly horrible — your feet start sweating and sliding all over the place inside your shoes, and often mountain bike shoes are a little rough inside. Not cool. So I started digging around in my pack to see what I could do to salvage the situation. It so happens that I keep my spare tube in an old sock, so I pulled that out and put it on. Ahhhh. Very nice. But there was the other bare foot to consider….hmmm. A bandanna! That’s the ticket. I keep one in my pack for various uses, and once tied around my foot, it made my life much more pleasant.

Just look to me for the latest in functional fashion trends.

So now I’ve learned a good lesson: I will continue to keep my spare tube in an old sock, but I will also throw its mate in there so I always have a complete pair in case of emergency. Don’t tell Tony Torrance that I have spares, though. His emergencies aren’t the kind I mean.

At any rate, we found a dirt road to take us lower, where we spotted some really cool old ruins and mining relics. I can’t believe that I’ve lived in the Boulder area for 20 years now and I’d never been along these roads. It’s super cool up there. Eventually we got to our next singletrack, beckoning us along:

This whole area was awesome. We saw lots more cool stuff:

There was a chilly wind blowing out of this old mine…ahhhh

It’s really hard to imagine surviving a winter up here.

More skinny trail to explore

It’s so secluded. Very nice.

But like a lot of good things, this came to an abrupt end. At someone’s private property, they put up signs and rock walls to keep bikes out. Which is their prerogative, of course. It’s just a little galling to see a sign saying “No Bikes! Hikers Welcome.” So, only certain strangers can trespass on your land…? When I get rich and buy a huge piece of property in the mountains, I’m going to build a bunch of rad trails and hang huge signs that say “Bikes Only. Hikers Will Be Shot in the Kneecaps On Sight.”    Anyway, it’s no biggie, we had heard rumors that this area was only partially ridable, and now we know.

In the end, though, we ran out of time, so there was no ride to be had up the canyon. We had to dash up the hill in Josh’s car to retrieve the Red Rocket. However, it was still a super fun day in the saddle, and we got to see a lot of Boulder County history. It’s always refreshing to try something new, even if it’s not a 100% predictable outing. I’m always up for that.

But this time, I’ve got a few exceptions.

Sunglasses, for me, are a tough purchase. Not only do I wear hard contacts and every stray speck of dust can be excruciating, but I’m also really light-sensitive, so I usually like dark lenses. But then invariably I end up in the woods where the lenses are too dark, or evening is falling, and I can’t see trail features worth a damn. Then lo and behold, the Oakley Split Jackets with Transitions lenses came into my life.

Not only do the large frames keep more dust out of my peepers and provide great peripheral vision, but the photochromatic lenses are the bomb. I put on one pair of glasses for every ride I do, and they are perfect. I don’t even notice the lenses changing — I only notice that I see the trail in awesome light at all times. I’ve never owned a more rad pair of sunglasses. These suckers are expensive, there’s no denying it. But for me, it’s totally worth it. I’m sure they will last well beyond the time that the Split Jacket style has gotten completely passe.

Next on tap is the height-adjustable seatpost. I always thought they were cool, but I was reluctant to spend $300 on one when already I don’t have any saddle-to-bar drop. The ‘ol Maverick is pretty slack and easygoing, and I’ve had many years of practice riding technical stuff with the saddle up in my business, so I didn’t really think I needed one.  And lastly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to add any more weight to my bike. It’s at about 25.5 pounds as it is, and since I only weigh 120, the bike is pretty heavy in relation to my own weight. It’s about the equivalent of an average-size dude on a 40-pound bike. Even another half-pound could be a bummer on the uphills, since it’s well known that climbing is not my strong suit. However, my descending isn’t half bad, and I had no idea how rad the Specialized Command Post would be until I got it on loan from a product-tester friend.

I put it on my bike for a few rides, and I found myself not really using it much, because I’m not riding hairball descents every time I go out. But then at Hall Ranch the other night I set it to the one-inch drop for the ride down from the top of the loop. And holy moly, did that inch really blow my mind. (That sentence doesn’t get said too often, does it?)

With the saddle just a little bit out of my way, I could get lower over the bike, and this really helped in the corners. As I drove the bike through turns and pumped it over rollers, it stuck to the ground like glue. When I manualed off rocks, the bike lofted off the edge with less effort. Since my body weight was no longer perched up high, handling improved. Duh. It’s one of those things you have to experience for yourself, it seems. It was a fantastically fun experience, and I think I’m already finding myself addicted to the feeling.

I don’t necessarily recommend the Specialized post. It just happens to be the one I’m testing. It only gives you three options: fully extended, one inch down, and all the way down. The payoff for living without infinite adjustability is a good one, though: the post is pretty bombproof. I’ve watched Rob seethe over the high-maintenance nature of his Speedball/Joplin through the years, and this thing is simpler and more reliable. That said, though, I think I would put up with the problems for the beauty of setting the post anywhere I wanted in the travel. So I have my eyes on the new RockShox post, the Reverb.

This just might be the ticket. I’m going to watch the reviews for awhile while I enjoy the freedom that comes from an extra inch.

And finally, folks, never underestimate the power of good tires to make your riding better. I’ve been totally stoked on the Maxxis Ignitor UST tires for quite a while now, but this summer I tried the 2.3 versions. I didn’t really expect to notice much difference from the 2.1 width, but again: surprise, surprise. More grip was had, and without any real increase in rolling resistance that I could feel. Sweet.

So, there’s my 2 cents worth of gear experiences. I will now leave you with this:

Click here to view the embedded video.

This trail would not be like that. And I’m not sure what the hell I was thinking. It’s just outside Camp Dick (heh heh), heading toward the Indian Peaks Wilderness. And duh, anything up in that area is just frickin’ rocky as hell. So, yes, I admit, I didn’t really do my homework; I was just bent on riding something new.

So in the same dude-like “I think that stripper really likes me!”sense of mindless optimism, we embarked onto the Middle St. Vrain Trail that starts just east of the Camp Dick (heh heh just one more time) campground. This trail eventually crosses the creek and connects to Buchanan Pass, allowing you to bypass the campground.

I was ready to rock out, and it’s a damn good thing. One big-ass rock garden followed another in a parade of pedal-slamming, wheel-jamming opportunity. Luckily I was in the Zone and so was Rick. We cleaned probably 90% of this stuff, dodging dogs and hikers, without incident. You don’t even really get that out of breath, because the trail is so incredibly gradual for most of the four-mile stretch to the wilderness boundary.

Rick pondering the preponderance of babyheads.

One of the more mellow sections. Doesn’t that rock look like a face?

Same spot, different view.

The ride is totally doable by riders with decent skills, but the crux is whether or not you really want to. If you love slow, techy riding (both “up” and “down”) then this trail could be one of your favorites. It certainly has some nice views of the water.

Cool place to dip your feet

And the return trip back down has some fun bits.

One of the smoother areas

But there is not a lot of buffed flow, by any stretch of the imagination. And there’s no real destination, I don’t think. I’m pretty sure you just hit the wilderness boundary and turn around. I’m not entirely sure, because we got a bit tired of the struggle and turned back, especially after a hiker told us the Coney Flats area above was a muddy mess. We’ve had a lot of rain lately, so that’s not a surprise.

At any rate, it was still a fun adventure. Boulder County doesn’t have a lot of trails like this, so if this is your bag, get up there and get some. But it is definitely in a hiker’s trail, if you know what I mean. Nothing about its character was truly intended for bikes. We only saw three other mountain bikers. So, if you like to haul the mail over smoother stuff or have high-mountain views, this trail’s probably not for you. And avoiding the weekends will surely bring more solitude.

If you find yourself up in the Red Feather Lakes area outside Ft. Collins, go check out the Beaver Meadows Resort.  It’s free to mountain bike there, and the very nice folks at the gift shop (where you can pick up a map) were extremely friendly.  The guy actually said, “Welcome, we’re glad to have you.” It blew my mind a little.

Try not to make beaver jokes too loudly, there are probably kids around. (“No thanks, I’ve got one already!”)

At first, I feared that the trails were going to be a bit on the boring side. We left the resort offices on this:

Rick is already searching for the singletrack

But once you get in a bit further, things start looking more interesting. For one thing, there’s some water.

It’s rideable if you pick the right line…

And then there’s some more water.

Not so rideable.

As we worked our way deeper into the trail system, we found some singletrack.

Woo hoo! There’s real trail here!

And soon we got to the heart of the loamy goodness.

We appear to have little choice but to do what he says.

And it’s good we did…the trail eventually got rocky, skinny and fun.

Click here to view the embedded video.

And we didn’t see a single other person. Anywhere. Rick could have killed us and wheelied around all the trails, cackling with diabolical laughter, and no one would ever find our bodies.

And then it started raining. Big Time. We were completely soaked within minutes, and it was a terrifically muddy splash-fest back to the cars.

After decimating the resort’s restaurant bathroom, we slurped hot chocolate and left muddy ass-prints on the barstools. All in all, a pretty good day.

]]> http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/08/09/beaver-meadows/feed/ 2 http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/08/05/its-time-to-go-commando/ http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/08/05/its-time-to-go-commando/#comments Thu, 05 Aug 2010 15:45:00 +0000 marty http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/?p=1889 So I know things have been a bit quiet here at Rubber Side Down, and I apologize for that. The problem is that I’ve mostly been riding the same old stuff, and when I do hit something new, I haven’t had a camera (my point-and-shoot camera is living in Europe this summer, and there’s no way I’m carrying the big SLR on rides). But I finally rounded up the cash to buy a new P&S, plus I put my phone to work on a recent ride, so let’s catch up.

If you have not ridden Commando Run/Two Elk in Vail, drop all your plans for this weekend and make it happen. The trail is hardly being ridden — it’s so skinny that it almost disappears in places. And the wildflowers are going off up there, it’s incredible to see.

I clearly don’t have an iPhone, but this gives you the idea.

Doing this ride as a shuttle is the most fun option, but if you’re a hard (wo)man, you can make a humongous loop out of it. I recommend doing it like this: Call on one of several bike shops in Vail to reserve a spot on their shuttle. Park your car in Minturn, then get on your bike and ride back to Vail. Catch the shuttle up to Vail Pass, where you will be dropped off. Climb Shrine Pass Road until you see the right turn on Lime Creek Road. A short distance up that, make the obvious right turn onto steep, rooty singletrack. Keep climbing up that until you top out in a beautiful alpine meadow with eye-popping views of the Gore Range. Stand around looking at this until your mind is blown, then continue on Bowman’s Shortcut to the four-way intersection with Two Elk.

Make sure you turn LEFT at this intersection. Straight will take you down into the resort, which is probably fun, but you miss out on the rad descent into the back bowls. Turning right will take you down what is probably a very steep drop to I-70, which means you just end up on the highway.

This is where the trail disappears a little, but you’ll be able to see where it’s trying to take you. Soon you will emerge from the trees to the view seen above. And if you keep going, you will drop into Mongolia Bowl, where you can see the Two Elk trail winding off into the distance. You will probably not see another soul…I didn’t.

When you arrive at the dirt road just above the Orient Express lift, you may be confused as to how to proceed. Cross the road, and look to the right along the creek. You’ll see the continuation of the singletrack, still taking you downhill. Jump on that and it’s about four or so miles of narrow, occasionally rocky trail down into Minturn. Booyah!

If that wasn’t the awesomest thing you’ve done all month, you obviously have a better life than me.

(This ride took me about 3 1/2 hours at a moderate pace with a couple of stops. If you were crazy enough to leave your car at the top of Vail Pass, you have a number of options. You can ride into Vail and get a shuttle or a friend to drive you back up for it. Or you can use a huge variety of trails/roads to get back there, but you have a SERIOUS frickin’ climb — and several more hours of riding — on your hands. Since I have never ridden it that way, I can’t recommend the best route. I would get a map of the area and start exploring.)

Stay tuned for info from Beaver Meadows, near Fort Collins.

All the Ashland singletrack flavors are tasty: smooth, cake-moist soil, sprinkled with rocks and roots, dusted with pine needles and fine dirt, ridged with double-jumps. String twelve miles together, and you’ve got a sugar high of baker’s-dozen proportions.

However, beware the unpopular Poison Oak Special, which the pizza-faced teenage counter guy will try to slip into your selection unawares.

In my book, a descent that long requires more aggressive eye protection, and I’m willing to look like a moron in exchange for seeing every bit of trail with bright, clear vision.

Testing the goggle/cross-country helmet setup at Hall Ranch. Ladies, the dudes love this look.

The rooster-esque nose protector is the best part, isn’t it? But I have to tell you that the goggles were TITS. My eyeballs have never been so happy after a ride when we did our initial pre-run of the Ashland course.

That day, Thursday June 10th, was cloudy in town, so that meant the top of Mt. Ashland was foggy and frigid.

The view down the fire road, which had recently been plowed. And check this out: it’s only 4800 feet at this spot.

We had caught a ride up with our pals Ariel and Abby, formerly the Yeti demo team, now working for Santa Cruz. We wasted little time getting ready at the top, then blazed down the fire road. Soon our hands were frozen and our legs shaking from the cold. The course was wet and sloppy, and rain continued to spit on on us, but everyone kept telling us it would be dry and grippy by race day. Later, as we destroyed our hotel bathroom with Mt. Ashland mud, we weren’t feeling so sure.

We scoped some singletrack that wasn’t part of the course. Yum.

Ariel and Rob model various other helmet & eyewear options.

We found the course to be a ton of fun. Fast, flowy and mostly non-technical, with lots of opportunity to catch some air, moto the turns, and make various Return of the Jedi comments. You know the drill. But it goes on and on, until finally you find yourself in Lithia Park, all the way back into the town of Ashland. Seriously badass.

On Friday we did another pre-ride, this time with the services of Ashland Mountain Adventures. A school bus possibly dating back to 1945 crept up the mountain, filled with blabbering, excited bikers and dragging a trailer full of expensive rigs.

Having a good time at 35mph

Once we made it to the top, we found that the track was already firmed up, and we could see how it could be awesome by the next day, when Rob raced.

We did another run, this time checking out the fireroad sections we’d skipped the day before. Nothing too difficult, but a couple of turns needed some practice. As our strategies began to form, we got more and more psyched for race day.

Saturday dawned sunny and clear.

Mt. Shasta makes its appearance

Rob was ready to rock.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The noise you hear in the background is the Taco Bell truck. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I doubt even a sixteen-year-old downhiller is going to eat a bean burrito before one of the most intense races in mountain biking.

Rob is loving his new Yeti ASR-7. He’s got it pretty tricked out, ready to take some abuse while not being a boat anchor, which is pretty amazing on a bike with seven inches of travel. It’s crazy where bikes have come. Awesome.

However, Rob slayed the course so hard he lost his chain twice. It’s tough when you’re hauling ass over rough stuff with no chainguard.

Blazing past the finish line

He finished in the middle of the expert pack, which I still think is awesome for a guy who works more than he gets to ride, and had mechanical problems to boot. Kick ass.

As for me, I had to wait until Sunday to race. I feared that the course would be pummeled beyond recognition, but it turned out to be just fine. I stood in the start tent feeling strong — euphoric, even. I was hardly listening to the starters in my final ten seconds, just staring down the fire road and picturing the first few turns. The promoter said something weird about stopping at the finish line to tell the officials my start time. This didn’t fully register, because as I had waited for Rob at the finish the day before, not a single rider had stopped at the finish line. It also just sounded odd. Don’t the timing officials KNOW my start time? Otherwise, how the hell are they timing my run at all? But as I said, I was deep in course visualizations and not really working all this out in my mind.

Soon my five seconds counted down and I was off. I hit the fire road at a good clip but not full gas, because the big climb was just down the hill. I rolled into it in the exact gear I had planned on, went to the limit I could hold, and began churning it out. I felt good, I didn’t blow up. Encouraged, I attacked the next section and kept on ripping, loving the sensation of having the track to myself. I was having a great time, just pumping and diving into turns and getting my groove on. Totally awesome.

But then, about 20 or 30 minutes into it, all alone out there, I began to lose focus on some of the flatter, more pedally sections that really require the rider to keep hauling ass. It was so quiet and peaceful that I had to keep reminding myself that this was still a race, not a joyride in the woods. I picked up my pace again at the end, pushing my limits around the steep, choppy switchbacks at the bottom.

The final turn before the finish. I look weird, but my eyes are so happy right now.

As I charged through the finish, my brain reminded me that there was something I was supposed to do. I made eye contact with the officials. They looked right back at me but didn’t react. So I kept going. Well, come to find out later that I truly was supposed to physically stop my bike and tell them my start time so they could figure my final run time. Which I just found very weird, considering I’ve been racing for quite a few years now, with plenty of Super Ds included, and I’ve never heard of this method before. So I ended up with a DNF, even though I finished the race right before the eyes of the officials.

I didn’t really have the heart to get mad, since the folks from the shuttle company had taken over race promotion late in the game and were doing the best they could. It’s not like they didn’t tell me what I needed to do. Besides that, it’s not like I was in contention for the podium. While I was only a couple of minutes down from the mid-pack times in expert class, which is a positive thing, I obviously lost too much time spacing out mid-race. The informal time I collected on my personal watch put me at last or possibly second-to-last. So that sucked some of the wind out of my sails, but didn’t detract from the fact that I’d had a great time out there. I just need to spruce up my skills and work on the mental game. This was my first-ever time-trial-style Super D, after all. It’s a much different experience, mentally, than a pack-style race, which naturally keeps you on the rivet at every second.

Rob and I capped off our week-long stay with several more days of riding in the area. Monday we explored some more of Mt. Ashland with the shuttle service owner (Bill and Sue are the owners…super nice folks who are working hard to get more trail built there).

Tuesday we drove out to Applegate Lake. The trails there are smooth and easy, with incredible views of the lake. We decided that area would make for a great training ride on chill days. And then on our last day, we joined a group of folks heading out on a shop ride in historic Jacksonville, just northwest of Ashland. When they heard that we had done the Ashland Super D, they had to show off their own Super D course. So we climbed a fire road into a nicely maintained motorcycle park, and then bombed down about six miles of deliciously narrow singletrack, deep in the trees with a mix of rocks, steeps and buff sections.

We were definitely impressed that the Oregon riders have both the trails and the initiative to create awesome Super D courses. It’s a damn shame that the Colorado options aren’t as long or as interesting. But, perhaps the race promoters just need some feedback.

At any rate, it appears that this race is ready to take off. For example, the Pro fields had a lot of big names like Adam Craig, Ross Schnell, and Kelli Emmett, plus SRAM brought their whole XO media circus to test out the new product. If you’ve got the time and the money, get yourself out there next year. Everybody needs a frosted donut in their life sometimes. Now, we just need to add bacon…

]]> http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/06/17/ashland-super-d/feed/ 2 http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/06/08/happy-birthday-bicycle/ http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/06/08/happy-birthday-bicycle/#comments Tue, 08 Jun 2010 20:36:36 +0000 marty http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/?p=1845 Everyone’s bike has a birthday, but it may be a funny quirk of being a Maverick owner that I sort of celebrate mine. That may be simply because I happen to KNOW my bike’s birthday.

Every Maverick comes with its own name, rather than a serial number, and the date it was built. Mine, called Basilisk, celebrated its fourth birthday with a couple of sweet rides.

But honestly, every ride on my bike is really sweet — because it’s mine, and I’ve got it dialed for me, and we have a history together. I’ve found secret singletracks, took my only Super D win, and spent many hours in the woods with friends on this bike. At four years, maybe it’s getting a little old by some people’s standards. The people who think you should buy a new bike every year, or the people who think this suspension model is already more outdated than orange Crocs. Whatever…that’s cool. And let me make clear, I’m not some retrogrouch who’s going to hang onto a bike until it’s totally clapped-out and old school and then take some sort of weird pride in it.

But this bike is still making my riding better, and aside from some recent upgrades, is not making my wallet any lighter. It’s still more fun than I can really describe. I call that a beautiful relationship, and I see no reason not to celebrate it every now and then.

]]> http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/06/08/happy-birthday-bicycle/feed/ 0 http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/06/04/buffalo-creek-radness/ http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/2010/06/04/buffalo-creek-radness/#comments Fri, 04 Jun 2010 20:13:03 +0000 marty http://rubbersidedown.pmpblogs.com/?p=1839 These trails never fail to plaster a smile all over my face. And since there’s some new singletrack down there, you’ve got no reason not to go check it out.

My friend Josh and I did a big loop encompassing the Colorado Trail, Redskin Creek, Gashouse Gulch, Baldy, Morrison Creek, Shinglemill, and then back to the car on the Colorado Trail. And there’s still plenty of stuff we didn’t ride. A two-day camping trip is a great way to see this area.

Bring plenty of water and snacks since there’s no conveniences in the immediate area — but that’s a good thing.

Click here to view the embedded video.

We all know what an unfair winter we had, with nearly zero opportunity to ride as the trails were buried under snow.

But I’ve been reminded of it several times this spring as I’ve finally been able to throw a leg over the mountain bike.

Where did all that awesome skill go that I had last fall? I keep catching myself not looking far enough ahead. Or bobbling on some of the technical bits, or not railing the turns with the usual speed.

And then to add insult to injury: I had Hall Ranch all to myself yesterday, and when I descended from the very top point to the bottom without stopping (which was awesome!), I ended up with sewing-machine leg and cramps in my feet.

Where did my downhill endurance go? Sheesh! Hall Ranch isn’t that long.

At first I blamed myself, thinking my abilities as a mountain biker sure went down the toilet fast. But I mentioned the problem to a friend, and he said spring is always like that for people who don’t mtn bike all winter. I had to cast my memory back…..had it really been ALL WINTER?

Sure enough, I think I may have squeezed in one or two rides after Interbike, but then the snow arrived and basically never left. The thought blew my mind a little. I haven’t gone more than a month without mountain biking since I started ten years ago, barring periods of injury. You can almost always ride in the winter on the Front Range. Remember last winter and the one before? I never had to touch the skinny-tire bikes once ‘cross season was over.

But this winter I’ve put in a lot of road miles. Not because I particularly love it, although it’s way better than sitting on the couch. But reuniting with my mtb this spring has reminded me of why roadies always get ridiculed about their bike handling skills on the dirt. All that robotic pedaling in one position makes the mind fall asleep; forgetting how to speak body English.

So I spent my descent at Hall Ranch exaggerating the hell out of everything to remind my body what to do. Eyes ahead. Elbows up and out. Drive through the turn with the hips. Pump every little roller for free speed. Brake only where you have to. And best of all, seek out every little cool little bit of trail to jump, skim or pump. No more riding rigidly in a straight line. The whole trail is mine to paint like a canvas with my path down it.

Okay, so it’s going to take a few runs to feel normal again, but it’s sure as hell fun.

At any rate, I rode Hall Ranch this morning, and found the conditions quite good considering how much rain pummeled this place while I was out of town the last couple of weeks. But I didn’t just take my chances — I scoped out Boulder Bubble Sheet on Facebook first. You, too, can friend the BBS and check it out for regular updates on trail conditions.

If we have as wet a spring as I think we might, this will be a page I’m hitting up often.

And I personally can’t wait to get down to Buffalo Creek. I think those trails are going to be ready very soon. Let me know, anyone, if you’ve been down there!