Rolling resistance

This weekend was the first weekend that I haven't paddled since the first week of school, for two reasons; 1) it hasn't rained in a week and a half and all the rivers were low, 2) it is the coldest day of the year to this point, there was a significant amount of frost on the ground, and the idea of getting wet in gorge devoid of sunlight is too much to bear. So instead of whitewater, we went in search of a different type of gradient: Mountain Biking. Arron, Jared, and I headed out to Capitol Forest to roll down, across and up some mountains. The trail that Arron selected was a one-way ride from the top of Capitol Peak to Mima trail head. We parked my truck at Mima trail head and drove the dirt roads that wind their way through clear cuts and coniferous forests. The weather was ideal for riding, sunny and cold (about 35 degrees), and dry. At the top we discovered that Jared was missing a few things, a helmet, proper clothing, and technical mountain biking skills, which we discovered 100 yards down the very steep trail, at this point we collectively decided that it was best that he go back to the car and drive to Mima and hang out. The idea of him taking a header and walking out of there in the dark was not something that I wanted to experience.

After Jared when back to the car and was on his way Arron and I dropped off of the mountain. The trail started off very steep and mildly technical that switchbacked down the mountain for about a mile and a half/two miles. This section was fast and fun, and quickly reminded me how much I enjoy riding my bike. There were plenty of technical sections that required quick reaction, and made the trail more exciting, also there were smooth steep spots where we could let off the brakes and feel the speed. At the high elevations the ground was hard and frost laden, which was ideal for riding, also the traction was good and there was no mud. After several miles we entered clear-cuts where the mid day sun had warmed the ground and the mud started. My tires were so caked with mud that riding felt like driving in the snow, the gully that created the trail acted as a train track that maintained my ability to stay out of the bushes. The mud was in everything and was gumming up the dérailleurs and filling my mouth with grit. There were also some sketchy ruts where the ground had frozen, so from time to time you would have to pick the most defined rut, put your tire in it, and ride it out.

After riding for about an hour and a half we came to a river that designated the beginning of our uphill journey. We filled up with water in the creek and mentally prepared ourselves for several miles of false flats and technical uphill riding. We ground away in first gear slogging through mud and overgrowth as we gained elevation. After about 30 minutes of this I was beginning to miss my kayak. The trail was forgiving though, the amount of technical riding was limited, so you could get into a rhythm and make progress instead of focusing on hopping over rocks and roots. Growing up riding in New England was paying off, riding this trail was a cake-walk compared to the trails in Dog-town.

By the time we reached the top of the hill it was getting late, around 3:45 - darkness occurs around 4:30-5:00 - so we were motivated to finish the final 5 miles back to the car. This whole ride I had been following Arron because he had ridden this trail before, and since I did not have a map I was fairly reliant on his local knowledge. So we began our ride to the car, a combination of downhill, cross country and climbing. At this point in the trip I was starting to feel my lack of energy and was really looking forward to our arrival at the car. After passing a sign that indicated that we only had 3.5 miles left I was relieved. And this is where it got a bit scary.

Like I mentioned before I was following Arron and wasn't paying as much attention to the signs as I should have. While we rode down hill we approached a fork where Arron had gone left, we continued on this trail until we reached a gate that was not where our car was, and he admitted to me that we had taken a wrong turn. So we began to follow the loop around and hoped that it would meet up with the trail again. At this point I was really starting to Bonk, and our current predicament, the waining light, and my lack of additional layers was stewing in the back of my mind. For the next 30 minutes we followed our internal compass back to where we thought the trail was. After much frustration and a few miles we came across a sign, "Mima CG, 5.5 miles". Great. We're back on track, but we've got over 5 miles to ride, by now I had officially bonked and was having difficulty riding properly, I wasn't getting out of the seat and spent as much time gliding as possible, but at least we were going in the right direction. A few miles later we came back to the spot where we had gone wrong, with 2 miles left and failing light I wanted to get out of there. The rest of the ride was easy despite the lack of light, if it had been a technical trail I would have needed to walk. We finally pulled into the parking lot at Mima just before complete darkness.

The scariest part of this was the prospect of getting stuck in the dark with inadequate clothing, and because I was out of gas. The last time I had felt this way was when Dad and I had ridden in France, I had bonked after a long 80 mile day and layed in the trunk of the car while he took my shoes off for me. It felt good to push my body in this manner, but next time I'll do it with more sunlight and on a warmer day. It also reminded me that when riding in these conditions I need to bring more than just water, a gu packet, additional layers, and a MAP would all have been helpful. It also reminded me that just because we're not running class IV and V whitewater doesn't mean that there aren't unseen dangers, and being in capitol forest is just as secluded as a gorge in the Olympic Peninsula.

Once at the car I had to take some time to relax, drink water and get some sugar into my system, I was shaking a bit and was completely out of energy. Luckily Arron had a granola bar and some snacks, so I sat, ate, and slowly took off my shoes.

I don't have any pictures for this post because I left my memory card in my computer drive, so unfortunately you'll have to paint a mental image for yourself.