Snow is coming down pretty good at the parent's house. Gonna try to sneak in a ride when the weather settles down a little bit. Videos are always a good way to pass the time, so here you go. The only cyclocross race I ever did made me vomit, strangely enough, this video makes me want to do it again!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Happy Burfday
It's my dog's birthday again. I'm one of those people that tend to prefer dogs to most people I meet. Every birthday Chloe seems to be calming down more and more as she completes another trip around the sun. It's also during this time, with the leaves changing and a chill hanging in the air, that I remember the worst 3 days of my life. This was the time when I lost my dog, felt the kindness of strangers, and became thankful for a dog that can always make me smile. The following is a recap of what happened for those 72 hours.
Well, after 2 1/2 days in the woods I am happy to report that at 3:30 this morning we were able to recover one tired Basenji. This whole ordeal began Wednesday night where she was on her usual Wednesday group ride with my girlfriend, her friend Sunny, and Sunny's dog Lilly. All we can figure is that halfway down Greens Lick, a case of mistaken identity occurred. She was originally right behind Heather, who was ahead of Sunny and Lilly. 3/4 of the way down the trail, it began to get dark, and the girls were caught with only 1 light between them. Sunny remembered Chloe coming back up the trail, which was not unusual, since she has a tendency to try to herd Lilly. They did not notice that Chloe had continued up the trail following my friend Bo who was pushing to the top to meet my group. We figure what happened is that Chloe thought Bo was me in the dark, and proceeded to follow him. Bo recalls Chloe following him back down to the berms, but does not remember her dropping off. We think that once she realized that Bo was not me, she freaked out and took off in the direction she thought Heather was in, but in the wrong direction. At about 8ish I got a phone call from Heather when I was loading up in the Rice Pinnacle parking lot. The only words I heard were, Chloe, lost, no lights. After quickly relaying the information to my friends Natebo, and Mac, I jumped in the car and hauled down the fire road to the Laurel Branch trail head. I arrived to only find Sunny standing at her car, and came to learn that I had beaten Heather to the trailhead, because she had to leave Bent Creek in order to get cell service. Donning lights, and telling Sunny my plan to head up Greens Lick, and to have Heather ride Side Hill trail to retrace their original route incase the dog had circled back. I headed into the night.
As soon as the pedals started moving my internal stop watch started. I recalled all the news specials, and movies that emphasized that the more time that had passed the less likely hood of finding the missing. I wanted to ride all out, but knew I had to pace myself. Riding too fast I may not hear her over the trail noise. Rolling around on a ridged singlespeed after a previous 2 1/2 ride I knew that I was going to be hurting, anticipating the numerous laps I would be riding UP Greens Lick and then back down Side Hill. Little did we know, Heather and I would be riding our bikes for almost 37 hours straight including two 5 hour breaks. For the next 4 hours it would be up and down Greens Lick. Heather, Sunny and I rode every possible combination to get to the trail. Hollering into the darkness, we all hopped for the familiar sound of her tags. For those that do not know, Basenjis don't bark, they are very stealthy dogs, so we had to listen for the rustle of underbrush, or whining. No luck, lights were starting to die. On my last circuit I had to walk down the trail in total darkness. It was no longer safe for us to be riding around. Walking in the dark I called my friend Kenny at 11:30. I informed him I would not be coming into work Thursday. At 12:30 we called off the search for the night, afraid that shouting in the dark would disorient her and push her farther off the trail. I felt like I was abandoning her, and that she would think we had given up. With a deep sigh, I noticed the mist off my breath in the night air. It was going to be a cold. She is a native of the hot climates of Africa and Australia. She doesn't posses the undercoat that most dogs do to adapt to cold climate. Dig in girl, keep yourself safe, I'll come for you at first light.
For the next 4 1/2 hours I laid in bed feeling helpless and heart broken. I had left my friend in the woods. It was like leaving a child to fend for themselves, except this one cannot talk, or ask for help. She gets skittish when scared. I was hoping that she would latch onto another group, but feared that she had gone into survival mode and would avoid everyone. I wanted to throw up from the anxiety but was too exhausted. I kept telling myself, I needed to sleep, you can't help her if you can't ride. The next 4 1/2 hours were restless and agonizing. Why was it still dark, does it always take this long to get light? Why won't the printer work? Better get on the message boards. In the back of my head, there was my biggest fear. At the top of Greens Lick there is a little used trail that heads out to the Blue Ridge Parkway. If she was walking around in the dark, she was heading to a vast area that would be impossible to search. I hoped to God that she stayed in Bent Creek. Every hour that passed increased the likely hood that she was moving out of the area. Luckily she was tagged. Maybe someone would pick her up and call. That call never came.
5:30 came both quickly and at the same time not soon enough. We loaded the cars and headed back out. Heather would patrol the parking lots and talk to people whole posting flyers. I would head up the original trails and explore the trail that headed to the parkway. Our friends Sunny, James, and Leisa would be joining the hunt after work. I pedaled off in a slow grinding pace. Memories of past 24 hour races came back. Ride slow, because you don't know how long you'll be out there. We talked to everyone we came across. I must say, the mountain bike community is one of the strongest and tight knit. Everyone was on the lookout. No one had seen her. Up one trail, down another. Have I been on this one already? Was that her, or just another squirrel. Why are there so many damn squirrels? Was that her tags? Nope only the rattle of my brake lever. Chloe where are you? No sightings, no way to narrow down the search. I checked my watch, 4:00. It would be dark again in 3 hours. 5:30ish, Sunny, James, Leisa show up. Sunny re-runs the original route. Leisa and her dog Zoe walk random trails. I'm still pedaling around like a zombie, Heather doing the same. I decide to ride back up Laurel Branch to Greens Lick. I meet Sunny halfway up. No luck. Sunny's phone rings. Heather is on the other line of a broken up connection. What is she saying? Steven, a local mountain biker had seen her up on South Ridge road an hour earlier. He was 85% sure it was her. He tried to approach her but she tore off into the woods. At last a break, I would be going home tonight with my dog. We coordinated approaching the area from four directions. I would take South Ridge from the fire road, Heather would go up Sleepy Gap, Sunny would go up Chestnut Cove, and Leisa would patrol Explorer loop. Sunny and I could only partially hear Steven's message, and ended up calling him. He relayed the information of her location and direction. I thanked him profusely and tore off up the road, battling the clock that ticked off the minutes since her sighting. We all rode toward the area, my heart sinking, after passing rider after rider coming from her direction. No one had see her. Chestnut Cove was coming up quickly, our hopes were plummeting. No sign of Chloe. Once again I thought about the Blue Ridge Parkway that loomed half a mile above us and the Shut In trail that paralleled it. Chloe, please be smart enough to stay put. I let you down...again. Search was called for the second time. My only solace coming from the warmer feel of the night. Goodnight Chloe, I'm trying as hard as I can.
I had planned to meet Bo the next morning to resume the search. I would be walking Shut In trail from Sleepy Gap, to Wash Creek road. Bo would be driving around Bent Creek. I passed Chloes last sighting and left a piece of hotdog for her. The sky was opening up. No one would come out if it kept raining. All of our flyers were paper. This was not a good way to start the day. I pushed my bike along Shut In. God walking sucks. No sign, only increasing rain. I dropped down the trail above the creek where she was seen. No sign, but wait! In the mud I find a canine footprint about her size. No Chloe but at least it was probably her. My cell phone rings, Bo is on the other end. Great news! Two positive sightings over at Laurel Branch at 10. It was 10:45. Bo says that a ranger and another man had seen her running along the fire road toward Laurel Branch which is at the bottom of Greens Lick. When Bo asked the first man if he was positive, he replied "yup, looked just the dog in the picture". OK, this was good she was staying in the area. I relayed the information to Heather. We would meet at Lower Side Hill where she had headed off into the woods when the ranger approached. Wow, this could be done before noon! Bo headed off to work, promising to be back when it was done. Heather and I headed back into the trails. Hours go by, nothing. How does this Dog keep disappearing?!! Today feels like the previous. Long hours in the saddle, pedaling, and pedaling some more. Up, down. Have you seen my dog? No? Oh. Once again I would like to give my praises to the mountain bike community. Their presence gave us the hope that she might be seen. The familiar faces of Peter Mills and Jef Williams as well as all the phone calls from friends and family checking in kept our spirits up. Hey look, it's four again. Where does all the time go? This isn't fair! Looks like we will be camping tonight. Leisa reappears after work with much needed provisions from Subway, and a fresh pair of legs and eyes to resume the search. She also comes armed with some information that will ended up saving Chloe. Our plan is for me and Heather to spend the night in the back of the Subaru at the entrance to Laurel Branch. Hopefully her instinct of being a creature of habit would kick in. We would also trying something Leisa had told us about. A friend of hers had lost a dog a few years ago. They were able to recover the dog by keeping a camp stove boiling with the dogs food. The aroma had drawn the dog back to the owner. That just might work! Oh wait, isn't Bent Creek a bear sanctuary?
Tossing common sense out the window, we set up camp in the back of the car. I make sure to place the stove on the OTHER side of the fire road gate. Now we sit and wait. And wait. Still waiting. A car pulls beside us. Great some drunk kids joy riding the fire roads, or a ranger about to kick us out. Nope, it's Bo and his dog Bo Bo. It's almost midnight. Bo is going to take a few runs in the truck up the fire road. The night returns to silence. I go to check on the stove. I hear the sound of tags. Wait, I hear the sound of tags! Chloe! I walk down the road, the headlamp catching to green of Chloe's eyes. The lamp must have startled her because even though she can hear my voice, she can't see me. She darts off up the road. NO! I jump on the bike and head down the road. Again, no sign of her. I catch Bo coming the other way. He hasn’t seen her. We search fruitlessly. Hours pass. Did we scare her off? Did she run blindly through the woods making all are efforts moot? We settle in again, re-lighting the stove. We wait. Bo Bo is restless, keeps pacing around, and growling. Awesome, maybe we can experience a bear attack too. Bo Bo just won’t settle.
3 hours later more growling. I look over to find out what is irritating him so badly. To my surprise, there is Chloe, sniffing at him, Bo Bo, unsure of what to do. Heather calls to her, she seems to recognize her. Heather grabs her collar and pulls her close. We’ve got her. It’s finally over. We repeat our thanks to Bo and Bo Bo over and over again. We quickly load the cars and head home. Chloe passes out from exhaustion in the passenger seat of Heather’s car. She’s home, she’s safe, thanks to great friends and a loving bike community. I would just like to relay our thanks to everyone, and all the people that put up with our shouting on their peaceful bike rides. I often wondered how my life would be without my riding partner and friend. Now I know, I’d be heartbroken.
After We Got Back Home
Saturday, November 27, 2010
2 Degrees Of Separation
Everyone is aware of the anomaly known as the six degrees of separation, or the the six degrees of Kevin Bacon. The premise being that you can find a person in common with anyone in the world through six or less social relations. With the end of the cycling season coming about, so does the thinning of the herd. Up for auction went the Giant Trance and the singlespeed. Craigslist is my usual method of finding bikes new homes. Reaching out to the cycling community, one discovers that the six degrees rule can actually be stripped down to 2 degrees. Maybe the number 2 presents itself because bikes have two wheels, or maybe because it has felt like it was 2 degrees in temperature on the last couple rides the bikes went on. Probably (not prolly) it's just because cycling communities are pretty small and interconnected not matter where in the world you happen to be. Bike 1, the Giant Trance ended up going to a girl that was friends with a guy from Warren Wilson who I worked as the team mechanic for. During the whole transaction, I was completely oblivious to her references to her friend Phil. It wasn't till about 30 minutes later that it clicked. Yeah, I'm quick like that.
Bike 2, the singlespeed, found it's new home in Blacksburg, VA. I would be spending Thanksgiving in Virginia, so I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to expand my buyer group size. The night before leaving, I received an email from Sam. She (yep Sam turned out to be female) was interested in the bike, but was kind of on a tight schedule, since she would be leaving for home early the next day. The decision came down to whether to meet that evening (which was looking like an 8 pm eta), or early the next morning. We decided on the next morning, since I was running kind of behind. She wanted to ride the bike on the local Pandapas pond trails, and asked if I would like to accompany her on a bike ride. Used to riding alone, since I don't really know anyone in town anymore, I jumped at the opportunity. Sam asked if I needed her to bring a bike, but I decided that the fixed gear would be more than adequate for a mellow ride (anyone starting to notice a pattern in my poor judgement making skills?).
7:30 came early enough, and I tried to find every piece of cold weather bike gear that I owned. The quick drive to the trail put me into the foggy empty lot. About 2 minutes later my riding partner for the next hour and fifteen showed up. Out pops a pretty, fit looking girl and her dog. Hmm this might be a problem. After introductions and a pedal swap, I hear the fateful words that I'm dreading. I just started riding back in July so I'm pretty new to this still. Why does this statement strike fear in me? One, I'm on a fixed gear mountain bike. Two, this girl looks pretty fit, and I was expecting a pretty mellow ride. Three, the last couple times people have told me they are just starting out and have a runners or climbers build, it's because they are, and they are sand bagging you. After the first 15 minutes of chasing her through the woods, I ask the usual question of you ran cross country all through high school, didn't you? This fact is confirmed, but it doesn't do a thing to help my poor choice in bicycles for the morning.
I'm stoked to reconnect with the Poverty Creek trail system, and try in earnest to keep pace, while focusing on not smashing my pedal on every other rock on the never ending series of rock gardens. Up and down, rock and root, leaves and creeks. I miss these trails sometimes. On the mellow (finally) spin back to the car, I start up with some friendly conversation. I say that I hope to try to get some riding in with one of my friends this week, since I hadn't seen her in a bit. I should have known that since cycling communities, especially the female population, are very small. I also should not have been surprised that she knew Sarah. Taking this as a good thing, I start to wonder if I should introduce the two of them. The topic soon turns to the joys of riding fixed gears in the woods. I mention that I am trying to get my friend Sarah, to start riding fixed again. It is at this self-induced face punching time that Sam informs me that Sarah's current boyfriend used to be Sam's. I proceed to reintroduce myself as Tony, the idiot, and announce that I will no longer be talking for the remainder for the ride since my mouth is currently occupied by my foot.
All in all it was still an awesome ride. I got a bike sold to worthy new owner, made a new trail buddy, and got rip some old familiar singletrack. Note to all those currently selling bikes, assume nothing because anything can happen. You could end up knowing the buyer in some obscure way, or end up chasing after someone claiming to have just started riding. It still amuses me how life unfolds sometimes.
Bike 2, the singlespeed, found it's new home in Blacksburg, VA. I would be spending Thanksgiving in Virginia, so I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to expand my buyer group size. The night before leaving, I received an email from Sam. She (yep Sam turned out to be female) was interested in the bike, but was kind of on a tight schedule, since she would be leaving for home early the next day. The decision came down to whether to meet that evening (which was looking like an 8 pm eta), or early the next morning. We decided on the next morning, since I was running kind of behind. She wanted to ride the bike on the local Pandapas pond trails, and asked if I would like to accompany her on a bike ride. Used to riding alone, since I don't really know anyone in town anymore, I jumped at the opportunity. Sam asked if I needed her to bring a bike, but I decided that the fixed gear would be more than adequate for a mellow ride (anyone starting to notice a pattern in my poor judgement making skills?).
7:30 came early enough, and I tried to find every piece of cold weather bike gear that I owned. The quick drive to the trail put me into the foggy empty lot. About 2 minutes later my riding partner for the next hour and fifteen showed up. Out pops a pretty, fit looking girl and her dog. Hmm this might be a problem. After introductions and a pedal swap, I hear the fateful words that I'm dreading. I just started riding back in July so I'm pretty new to this still. Why does this statement strike fear in me? One, I'm on a fixed gear mountain bike. Two, this girl looks pretty fit, and I was expecting a pretty mellow ride. Three, the last couple times people have told me they are just starting out and have a runners or climbers build, it's because they are, and they are sand bagging you. After the first 15 minutes of chasing her through the woods, I ask the usual question of you ran cross country all through high school, didn't you? This fact is confirmed, but it doesn't do a thing to help my poor choice in bicycles for the morning.
I'm stoked to reconnect with the Poverty Creek trail system, and try in earnest to keep pace, while focusing on not smashing my pedal on every other rock on the never ending series of rock gardens. Up and down, rock and root, leaves and creeks. I miss these trails sometimes. On the mellow (finally) spin back to the car, I start up with some friendly conversation. I say that I hope to try to get some riding in with one of my friends this week, since I hadn't seen her in a bit. I should have known that since cycling communities, especially the female population, are very small. I also should not have been surprised that she knew Sarah. Taking this as a good thing, I start to wonder if I should introduce the two of them. The topic soon turns to the joys of riding fixed gears in the woods. I mention that I am trying to get my friend Sarah, to start riding fixed again. It is at this self-induced face punching time that Sam informs me that Sarah's current boyfriend used to be Sam's. I proceed to reintroduce myself as Tony, the idiot, and announce that I will no longer be talking for the remainder for the ride since my mouth is currently occupied by my foot.
All in all it was still an awesome ride. I got a bike sold to worthy new owner, made a new trail buddy, and got rip some old familiar singletrack. Note to all those currently selling bikes, assume nothing because anything can happen. You could end up knowing the buyer in some obscure way, or end up chasing after someone claiming to have just started riding. It still amuses me how life unfolds sometimes.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Bike Rumor Schwag Toss
Bike Rumor and several local companies took over the Motion Makers parking lot to give out over 3000 dollars worth of donated bike stuff. About 140 souls braved the cold to grab a FREE raffle ticket for the chance to win bottles, glasses, Camelbaks, a Go Pro Camera, several Cane Creek Headsets, and the grand prize of a Cane Creek Double Barrel shock. During the drawings, participants also had to keep a vigilant eye out to keep from getting hit in the head from flying, chamois butter samples, t-shirts, performance drink powder, and stickers constantly raining from the sky. In addition to the raffle tickets, silly human games were played for the chance of winning even bigger prizes. Yours truly won a Camelbak for riding a bike in a circle. I was stoked about the prize, but honestly just wanted to play the game. They could have given me a used sticker, and I would have been happy. Just goes to show you that practicing trackstands in the store at work will pay off one day. Thanks again to Bike Rumor, Motion Makers, I9, Cane Creek, and all the other companies that kicked in schwag.
See me apparently having trouble making the cranks go
all the way around at 2:09. I say good day, sir
Decided to add an awesome song. This tape lived in my truck!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Fog Dog
Went for a walk with the pup. I often miss the foggy damp hikes of the Pacific North West. I'm always impressed with the amazing photos of fog that the Canadians on Vancouver Island always put up on NSMB. I decided to get the pup out, and take some pictures since West Asheville was completely enveloped in fog. There was a light mist, so it seemed to have kept most people off the trail. Grabbed my rain jacket from the back of the truck and discovered something had eaten a pretty good size hole in it. I was a bit worried about the temperature for Chloe since she is native to the warmer climates of Africa and Australia. She seemed to be quite content with the weather, and by the end of the hike was covered in mud, from chasing squirrels through out the woods. All pictures were taken with my crappy camera phone, enjoy.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Jah Phil Birthday Ride
What could be better than riding with friends on your birthday? Luckily Phil let us all find out that the answer is NOTHING! Rain tried to scare us off, but after some stout climbing, bike pushing, and awesome Pisgah views we officially deemed the day awesome. The route ended up being horse stables > 477 > Buckwheat > Black Mtn > Pisgah Tavern. Boo-yah, happy birthday again Jah.
Children avert your eyes!
For some reason I was awesome at cutting Dave out of the pic.
I think it was because I was scared of his
ability to crush souls on his 34/20 singlespeed.
You know you're from AVL if you always have a 780 map
Marveling
Ride ends with all bikes and bodies intact
And awesome video of the day
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
4th Annual Pumpkin Pedaller
This Saturday was host to the 4th Annual Pumpkin Pedaller. Big thanks to Asheville on Bikes for putting together this gigantic rolling costume party! The party started in front of the Court house and the headcount was somewhere in the neighborhood of 132 people. We snaked around the city, much to the amusement/frustration of the residents. Unlike a critical mass (read critical mess) this form of bicycle advocacy stresses that riders wear helmets, obey all traffic laws, and basically frowns upon acting like a dumbass and purposely trying to piss off drivers. I stopped participating in critical mass rides when attending Virginia Tech due to hordes of riders pretty much making cyclists look like a bunch of hooligans that liked to disregard traffic laws and snarl up traffic by blocking lanes. Great idea, piss off the car drivers, they'll definitely respect us on the weekday commute. This ride was filled with costumes, badass bikes of all shapes and sizes, good friends from out of town, awesome phone calls about found stolen bikes, and so on. Once again thanks to Mike and Rachel and all the AOB volunteers! PS. I got my first tamale from the burrito cart guy. Super good stuff, you should support him.
Not part of the group. Welcome to AVL
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Rumbling Bald and Bennett Gap
Decided to try to stuff a couple different sports into a Friday afternoon. Headed out to rumbling bald to do some bouldering. Upon arrival, I found that I had left my shoes and chalk bag at the house. Ok, no biggie, barefoot sounds like a good idea. Turns out the correct answer was the opposite of the one I chose. Go Figure. Next, I decided to get a run in on Bennett since it had opened up about a week and some ago.
Pics From the Ordeal
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Chattanooga
I've been meaning to take a road trip for the past couple months, trying to squelch my inability to stay put for long periods of time. I knew that I wanted to bike somewhere new, but at a destination that also had some dorky tourist attractions to get into. I remembered reading an article on bike town destinations a couple months ago, and Chattanooga was one of the towns that had made the list. Two months ago I had made a day trip to Ooltewah for some motorcycle parts, and was intrigued by the signs for Ruby Falls and Rock City. My friend Heather told me about visiting Ruby Falls and Rock City as a kid and said they were such weird places that I had to see them. I also learned that Sorba Chattanooga had built and maintained a large network of trails on Raccoon Mountain. Bikes, gnomes, and underground waterfalls? Yes please, it's on!
For some reason every time I thought of Raccoon mountain I thought of Raccoon City, or maybe I was hoping that Chattanooga was the epicenter of a zombie outbreak. Arriving at our destination, we only found trees ablaze with the colours of fall, and tourists from all over the US. Setting up camp, we met out neighbors, a group of college friends that had come from all over the east for a small reunion. Later they would be the source for some amazing steaks and grilled vegetables. We felt kind of lame offering up hotdogs and canned chili in exchange. Since we got to town later than we had hoped, we decided to forgo the mountain biking until the next day since the sun would be setting in a couple hours. Neither of us had thought to pack lights. Instead we decided to go ahead and do Ruby Falls. Since it's an underground cavern, I don't think it really cares if you visit it after sunset or not.
We bought our tickets and luckily caught the last elevator down to the tour group that was about to start. 260 feet down, we met our tour guide, Ralph, who would point out the various formations in the cavern, as well as make sure that everyone was present and accounted for. We saw various stalactites and stalagmites, as well as several formations, that if you squinted and crossed your eyes enough, looked like certain animals, or everyday objects. The main attraction of the tour was Ruby Falls, an underground waterfall with an unknown water source. It is speculated that the water seeps into the mountain side and accumulates into rivers farther back. Geologists, and cavers have tried to track the source, but the opening of the falls, quickly becomes impassable. There is a great deal of dramatic build up to the viewing of the falls. The main cavern is dark, save for a couple of red hued lights that make the cave look like a scene from Tron. After a minute the house lights come up and you see the falls. It was beautiful, and kind of weird. Very similar to watching the light beams come into the slot canyons in Antelope Canyon. Even if you don't like dorky tourist attractions, I highly recommend seeing Ruby Falls.
Back at the camp, we enjoyed the neighbors steaks, followed up by our paltry hot dogs and canned chili. Anticipating a long day of biking the next day, we headed to sleep about 11:00. What we hadn't counted on was the complete train wreck of a 3 family group camped out on the other side of us. I know you will probably jump to the conclusion that it was screaming kids that robbed the whole camp ground of quiet. Sadly I have to report it was their parents that caused all the drunken ruckus. This crew was determined to make sure every last beer and fire log was consumed, as well as give the entire campground a running tally. I was appalled at one guy complaining about his wife's lack of love for camping while in the same breath hitting on the wife of his friend. All in earshot of his two daughters, classy. The session of too much information continued till about 3:00 when they finally got the hint from the wives telling them to quiet down, and me glaring at them and finally loosing it and unleashing a very audible "sshhhh" which was about to be followed by "-ut the f*ck up". Needless to say, 7:00 came very quickly. *sigh*
The morning was started with yogurt, peanut butter sandwiches, and French pressed coffee. Bikes were loaded onto the car, and we made off to Raccoon Mountain. It was only about a 10 minute drive before we cam upon the parking lot for the put in on the Tennessee River (Tennessee sure likes to name things with double letter...Chattanooga). With mist still on the water, the engineering geek got the better of me and I decided that I needed to take several pictures of the gigantic valve on the site. This would later be followed by several pictures of the switching station on the top of the mountain. Parking at the visitors center, we geared up and were about to head out when the guy we had passed on a road bike earlier that morning, rolled up and asked if we had a map for the trails. We said we did, but weren't sure how accurate it was. He handed us a really nice overlay map with distances and elevations. Score!
We were informed that that best way to do the the loop around the reservoir was counter clockwise. Right out of the gate the terrain became very apparent. It was kind of a mix of the sandy trails of the Virginia Beach area, mixed with the rock of Farlow Gap in Pisgah, or some of the Dupont trails. I was definitely not on my game at the beginning of the ride, and not paying attention, slow rolled and stuffed my front wheel into a rock. Just missed hitting the boys dead on, but the pain was about the same. Raccoon Mountain fights dirty! The rest of the trail was filled with fast lines, trials techy gnar gnar, and beautiful outlooks over the Tennessee River. I also discovered that the spikes on my carbon bike shoes make very good shoes for bouldering on mixed routes. Overall the loop took about 3 hours. We didn't see every inch of trail, and I would like to go back and get a better look at the freeride area, but it is well worth the trip. As most trail reviews point out, Small Intestine is a must do. It was also wonderful to see Pisgah Chattanooga putting in some work. Those of you interested in singlespeed ridged riding the area, 32/18 works fine, and suspension is not a requirement although would have been nice in some sections.
After a quick shower it was on to Rock City. Honestly I had no idea what to expect. I had been informed by Heather that all she remembers was scary dioramas of gnomes depicting fairy tales by black light. I was going into the affair with the mindset that it would be like a hike at chimney rock. Needless to say, the former description was more accurate. Rock City would be a climbers paradise. It was essentially a paved boulder field that wandered up to a lookout that allowed you to see 7 states at one time. The rock was mostly limestone, and had several, cracks, overhangs, and huecos. This being October, there was also a German Festival on the grounds, complete with beer garden, brats, and pretzels. There was also an oompah band, along with several girls dressed up in tradtional get up. Yep, Rock City was worth the visit. Getting to the last part of the trail that wandered the grounds, we entered the Fairy Tale land. Inside these dark halls were the creepiest depictions of fairy tales I had ever seen. Garish colours, lit by blacklight, depicted the most famous of the Grimm and Anderson Fairy Tales. Honestly I thought I was going to have nightmares. Once again, this spot is a must do. The views are amazing during Octoberfest, as well as the landscape. I would maybe caution small children in Fairy Tale land, it scared the hell out of me.
Well, the trip was coming to a close. The brats and pretzel were no longer tiding me over. We decided to go down to the river front to find some food. The area by the aquarium and art museum were amazing. So many features that I wanted to ride my bike on. The pedestrian bridge across the Tennessee provided excellent views of the skyline. My favorite sight, was the dogs that sat with the carriage drivers that carted people around the down town. Being a saturday night, all the eateries were packed with at least a 45 minute wait. At this point I will say that Alexis was right again. We ended up back tracking to Mojos for some amazing burritos. Full on gut bomb, big as your head affairs. Taking these back to the campfire, the resulting food coma was immanent.
All in all, this was an amazing trip. There are still many things I need to check off in Chattanooga. For example, more trails (a pump track and dirt jump park are slated for 2011), visit the Lynskey factory, go climbing, and buy ice cream and just sit on the bridge and watch the people and boats go by.
For some reason every time I thought of Raccoon mountain I thought of Raccoon City, or maybe I was hoping that Chattanooga was the epicenter of a zombie outbreak. Arriving at our destination, we only found trees ablaze with the colours of fall, and tourists from all over the US. Setting up camp, we met out neighbors, a group of college friends that had come from all over the east for a small reunion. Later they would be the source for some amazing steaks and grilled vegetables. We felt kind of lame offering up hotdogs and canned chili in exchange. Since we got to town later than we had hoped, we decided to forgo the mountain biking until the next day since the sun would be setting in a couple hours. Neither of us had thought to pack lights. Instead we decided to go ahead and do Ruby Falls. Since it's an underground cavern, I don't think it really cares if you visit it after sunset or not.
We bought our tickets and luckily caught the last elevator down to the tour group that was about to start. 260 feet down, we met our tour guide, Ralph, who would point out the various formations in the cavern, as well as make sure that everyone was present and accounted for. We saw various stalactites and stalagmites, as well as several formations, that if you squinted and crossed your eyes enough, looked like certain animals, or everyday objects. The main attraction of the tour was Ruby Falls, an underground waterfall with an unknown water source. It is speculated that the water seeps into the mountain side and accumulates into rivers farther back. Geologists, and cavers have tried to track the source, but the opening of the falls, quickly becomes impassable. There is a great deal of dramatic build up to the viewing of the falls. The main cavern is dark, save for a couple of red hued lights that make the cave look like a scene from Tron. After a minute the house lights come up and you see the falls. It was beautiful, and kind of weird. Very similar to watching the light beams come into the slot canyons in Antelope Canyon. Even if you don't like dorky tourist attractions, I highly recommend seeing Ruby Falls.
Back at the camp, we enjoyed the neighbors steaks, followed up by our paltry hot dogs and canned chili. Anticipating a long day of biking the next day, we headed to sleep about 11:00. What we hadn't counted on was the complete train wreck of a 3 family group camped out on the other side of us. I know you will probably jump to the conclusion that it was screaming kids that robbed the whole camp ground of quiet. Sadly I have to report it was their parents that caused all the drunken ruckus. This crew was determined to make sure every last beer and fire log was consumed, as well as give the entire campground a running tally. I was appalled at one guy complaining about his wife's lack of love for camping while in the same breath hitting on the wife of his friend. All in earshot of his two daughters, classy. The session of too much information continued till about 3:00 when they finally got the hint from the wives telling them to quiet down, and me glaring at them and finally loosing it and unleashing a very audible "sshhhh" which was about to be followed by "-ut the f*ck up". Needless to say, 7:00 came very quickly. *sigh*
The morning was started with yogurt, peanut butter sandwiches, and French pressed coffee. Bikes were loaded onto the car, and we made off to Raccoon Mountain. It was only about a 10 minute drive before we cam upon the parking lot for the put in on the Tennessee River (Tennessee sure likes to name things with double letter...Chattanooga). With mist still on the water, the engineering geek got the better of me and I decided that I needed to take several pictures of the gigantic valve on the site. This would later be followed by several pictures of the switching station on the top of the mountain. Parking at the visitors center, we geared up and were about to head out when the guy we had passed on a road bike earlier that morning, rolled up and asked if we had a map for the trails. We said we did, but weren't sure how accurate it was. He handed us a really nice overlay map with distances and elevations. Score!
We were informed that that best way to do the the loop around the reservoir was counter clockwise. Right out of the gate the terrain became very apparent. It was kind of a mix of the sandy trails of the Virginia Beach area, mixed with the rock of Farlow Gap in Pisgah, or some of the Dupont trails. I was definitely not on my game at the beginning of the ride, and not paying attention, slow rolled and stuffed my front wheel into a rock. Just missed hitting the boys dead on, but the pain was about the same. Raccoon Mountain fights dirty! The rest of the trail was filled with fast lines, trials techy gnar gnar, and beautiful outlooks over the Tennessee River. I also discovered that the spikes on my carbon bike shoes make very good shoes for bouldering on mixed routes. Overall the loop took about 3 hours. We didn't see every inch of trail, and I would like to go back and get a better look at the freeride area, but it is well worth the trip. As most trail reviews point out, Small Intestine is a must do. It was also wonderful to see Pisgah Chattanooga putting in some work. Those of you interested in singlespeed ridged riding the area, 32/18 works fine, and suspension is not a requirement although would have been nice in some sections.
After a quick shower it was on to Rock City. Honestly I had no idea what to expect. I had been informed by Heather that all she remembers was scary dioramas of gnomes depicting fairy tales by black light. I was going into the affair with the mindset that it would be like a hike at chimney rock. Needless to say, the former description was more accurate. Rock City would be a climbers paradise. It was essentially a paved boulder field that wandered up to a lookout that allowed you to see 7 states at one time. The rock was mostly limestone, and had several, cracks, overhangs, and huecos. This being October, there was also a German Festival on the grounds, complete with beer garden, brats, and pretzels. There was also an oompah band, along with several girls dressed up in tradtional get up. Yep, Rock City was worth the visit. Getting to the last part of the trail that wandered the grounds, we entered the Fairy Tale land. Inside these dark halls were the creepiest depictions of fairy tales I had ever seen. Garish colours, lit by blacklight, depicted the most famous of the Grimm and Anderson Fairy Tales. Honestly I thought I was going to have nightmares. Once again, this spot is a must do. The views are amazing during Octoberfest, as well as the landscape. I would maybe caution small children in Fairy Tale land, it scared the hell out of me.
Well, the trip was coming to a close. The brats and pretzel were no longer tiding me over. We decided to go down to the river front to find some food. The area by the aquarium and art museum were amazing. So many features that I wanted to ride my bike on. The pedestrian bridge across the Tennessee provided excellent views of the skyline. My favorite sight, was the dogs that sat with the carriage drivers that carted people around the down town. Being a saturday night, all the eateries were packed with at least a 45 minute wait. At this point I will say that Alexis was right again. We ended up back tracking to Mojos for some amazing burritos. Full on gut bomb, big as your head affairs. Taking these back to the campfire, the resulting food coma was immanent.
All in all, this was an amazing trip. There are still many things I need to check off in Chattanooga. For example, more trails (a pump track and dirt jump park are slated for 2011), visit the Lynskey factory, go climbing, and buy ice cream and just sit on the bridge and watch the people and boats go by.
Oh yeah, I also bought a marshmallow banana
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