Must be a bunch of mommas in town for the summer family visit, since their boys were missing in large numbers this week. I can understand not going for a ride while family is town. If your Moms and anything like mine, my routine activities send her into a tizzy or worry. She thought biking was safe until see discovered then I said I going for bike ride did not mean tooling around town on a cruiser, but rather meant zipping down narrow root and rock encrusted trails lines with immovable trees. Since then see has added biking to the list of hobbies see mentally translates into a safer activity to maintain her deliberate ignorance of my risk taking predilections. So for her a day of skiing is sitting home by the fire drinking hot chocolate. Kayaking is swimming laps at the pool, and biking is weeding the garden.
So I guess the mommas boys can get a pass if they are trying to honorably deceive their moms and keep them in blissful ignorance. Hopefully there was some fun family cruising around town. Otherwise I don't want to hear your namby pamby excuses like I'm recovering from chemotherapy or it was my wedding anniversary.
As Ventana Jeff predicted the winds shifted and blew a hole in the smoke around Victor. Smoky to the south from the Saddle Complex Fire and smoky to the north from a fire in the Selway. Dean has returned, riding his new El Rey frame that looks just like his old one except for the absence of the cracked aluminum.
Another last minute work emergency pushed my lateness to the breaking point and I had to cheat driving 2 miles up the road to the fork between Gash and Bear Creek Overlook Rd to catch up. Parking this winter is going to be challenge with sleds and trailer. A whole crop of "No Parking" signs have sprouted and blossomed.
Uniting with the three remaining dedicated backcountry cyclists without weaning anxiety disorder, I discovered I had forgotten my pack and water, leaving me with the backwoods options of foraging for residual huckleberries and drinking at stream crossings.
We made quick work of the remaining 3.5 miles of fire road and 2 miles of nontechnical (by Bitterroot standards) singletrack to the overlook, cleaning up a few trees that had recently fallen. While climbing we passed a couple of hikers who were on one of the well established illegal shortcuts between switchbacks.
This reminded me that this is another one of the trails on the chopping block because of its "wilderness potential". A two mile dead end trail to an overlook an the edge of a shear cliff, and according to the Sierra Club our presence would ruin the pristine trail, unlike the pure of heart virtuous hikers who never ever create shortcuts and also never seem to clear trails.
Speaking of the Sierra Club, I found this video on the Sierra Club You Tube channel advocating urban bike commuting. Their bike antagonism even seems to seep into this supposedly pro-bike video. I'm not sure after watching it why I would want to sell my Mini.
Looking into the Bear Creek drainage and toward Sky Pilot I could see true wilderness and appreciate the need to protect the area and still realize that there is a difference between designating wilderness and protecting the land.
Something the wet nurse dependent wilderness extremists seems to have forgotten.
We opted to skip the sunset, my niterider being with my water, food, and camera. Thanks for the photos, Dean.
Following the ridge back down we added a extra mile of steep super fast single track to the usual two miles of trail.
After last weeks debacle I was surprised that nearly everyone who rode last week came back for more abuse and everyone else kept avoided us like Yersinia Pestis. While last week we looked like fools for attempting to best the Dominatrix, this week we looked like a group of lycra clad Einsteins. Well most everyone did. Knolly Jeff reminded me more of Heisenberg and I rode more like Steven Hawking.
This week we had a secret weapon. With Eric and his elite troop of the Bitterroot Cackcountry Tree Service on leave, Ventana Jeff had to serve as this weeks commando and in a feat that would make Peter Graves (or Tom Cruise if you for some irrational reason prefer him) proud he successfully cleared the ridge to Willow Creek Trail.
For once I planned to make it to the trailhead on time. I prepacked everything and had the truck load and ready to go. I planned to leave work early. Unfortunately events at work conspired at the last moment to delay me and keep me tardy streak alive, luckily for Chris. If I had been on time Chris might still be wandering the Sapphire between Stevi and Corvallis trying to find the trail. He had already made one wrong turn just getting to the trailhead and his GPS wouldn't have served much use since this was his virgin ride to Palisdades, and the lead group took the shortcut which we luckily took, too. The Flying Spaghetti Monster works in mysterious ways.
The Flying Spaghetti monster was beneficent in other ways. Clouds shielded us from the sun on the south facing slopes and a brief shower helped keep us cool and also slowed the lead group long enough for Chris and I to catch up making this a true group ride up and down.The ever present snow field on the ridge was still there, but had melted off the trail since Sunday.
Above 8,000 ft everything is a little different. Evenings are chilly, even in August. Flowers that had faded away at lower elevation are in full riot. Mosquitos are ever present even in the midst of last year's burn. I had hoped that one benefit of the Dominic fire would be a decreased in number of the tiny vampires that hang out beneath the Willow Mountain Lookout. Such was not the case. While the trees were toast, the blood suckers returned. You might have noticed the lack of action shots and the nature shots in their stead. The little beasts were stalking the ridge as usual and no one was about to stop and wait.
With Jeff's much appreciated trail clearing and this year's abundant moisture, the ridge was faster and more enjoyable than ever. Doing the short cut on the climb saved us 2 miles of climb so it was only 11 miles of road for 6 miles of trail. I was reminded again why this probably the premier trail close to town. Fun rolling single track on the ridge. Fast descents through the upper meadows. Just enough gnar on the technical mid section and a fast bottom with options for safe air.
The trail beyond Jeff's impossible mission has a fair number of downed trees that need to be cleared. Not so many that the flow was ruined, but enough that someone needs to get in their before more trees fall or someone's head get smacked by a leaner. So if anyone could sweet talk the Forest Service, like maybe while roasting some chiles at the Farmer's market, into sending a crew there it would be much appreciated. Otherwise we will eventually need to shuttle some chainsaws in.
Miraculously we make it out with the onset of nightfall. Beer and grilling were enjoyed by all. Next week back to Buckhorn Saddle for a repeat, but this time snow free ride.
In the annals of misadventures known colloquially as the Wednesday Night ride, there are certain rides that live on in infamy, and whether last night adventure will ever rise or rather fall to the depths of those memorable rides, only time well tell whether last night's ride will be told in the same breath as other escapades as Frog Hollow and the cabin of Expired SpagettiOs, the Midnight Right of Bald Top, or the Bloody Glove and the Inner Tube of Salvation.
While darkness was involved, no projectile vomiting or bodily injury was reported. Reflecting on the epics from the past I was struck by the frequency that either Bald Top or the trail it shares a drainage with Sleeping Child was involved. Even last year when I had the dubious honor of winning the FI award resulted from a wrong turn while trying to find yesterday's object of desire.
Earlier in the week there was a vigorous debate on the merits of mounting as expedition to Palisades versus Divide Creek. No one had been on either trail yet and any knowledge of trail conditions was sorely lacking. Eventually we obtained some beta that Sleeping Child Creek trail had been cleared. Information that turned out to be accurate if, as we discovered, incomplete.
Given the near debacle that was last year's adventure on this loop, I was surprised we managed to scrounge up 7 suckers adventurous souls this time. A few more, apparently those with more functional neurons, claimed they we going to ride came down with convenient emergencies.
The ride started in a routine fashion that didn't foreshadow the looming disaster. The usual early risers with their ritalin deficiencies started promptly at 5:30. The rest of us a few minutes later. In retrospect I should have suspected that the aggregation of frozen water vapor that shielded us from the worst of the summer sun during the 10 miles of dirt road was a tease to entice us past the point of no return.
Not surprisingly we had some difficulty location the trail at the top, but eventually blundered onto it. We expected some deadfall so we weren't alarmed that we spent more time walking than riding on the initial section. We were still making good time and most of decided to reprise our roles in the Bitterroot Backcountry Tree service and start clearing some trail. Joel, in his unique style informed us of our foolhardiness and proceeded on down the trail and to the waiting beer. I can't be all that critical of Joel on this, after all in the end he was right, and he still had to deal with all the crap that was still awaiting us still he decided to try the trail this year rather than turning tail and returning down the road like he did last year.
Eventually we cleared the a little over a half mile of trail from the first road cut down to Divide Creek. Using a modicum of judgement we decided to abort our efforts to clear any more trail and ride down the trail to the beer and brats.
It was just after this that the air was filled with a volley of invectives referencing, may she forgive me, the son of the blessed virgin, bodily waste, sexual intercourse, and oddly enough bananas. The way forward was a morass of deadfall obscuring the trail for an unknown distance.
Somewhere during the clambering over, around, or under the charred remains of the 2000 fires I had a vision of the personification of the trail. She was dressed in latex, hip high stilettos and a riding crop. I was wearing a dog collar and leash. I had to submit and be prepared for degradation and humiliation. The trail was telling me her name. Henceforth the White Stallion/Divide Creek/Sleeping child loop shall have a moniker befitting her status. I hereby deem the loop: Dominatrix. By the time we staggered onto to Sleeping Child Creek trail, cleared as promised, my eyes were burning from sweat. my legs were bloody from some pungi sticks hidden in the downfall and I was approaching a near total bonking.
After a much too brief respite it was time to race impending darkness on the remaining 4 miles of trail. Not too far along the finally clear trail, I found myself lying on my back in the brambles on the edge of the trail with my bike on top of me and thinking how comfortable it felt to be lying down and maybe I should just stay there on that comfortable bed of raspberries and thimbleberries and take a snoozer.
I had everyone else had out while I took some time to drain my camelback and come back to my senses. Eventually I remounted my bike for the ride and took a relaxed pace until I recovered. With a mile or two left I finally felt energized and ready to take on the rocks and roots of Sleeping Child. Unfortunately for me darkness had won race and the last of the daylight was gone. Luckily I have learned from past mistakes and I had the niterider with me to light up the path out, and found my way out only 10 or 15 minutes behind everyone else.
Last week while touring around B.C. for some hiking and biking I found myself in the town of Kaslo and some ceramic Beer Steins emblazoned with Kaslo Sufferfest 2011. So if anyone is still interested in a weekend of abuse block out the first weekend of October.
As if there is any shred of doubt about the sanity of judgement of the crew, next week's potential ride is Palisades. Another trail known for long Forest Service Rd climbs, downfall, and no credible information as to whether it has been cleared.
Despite my better judgement I'm including the map here merely for curiosity sake, not because I want anyone else to repeat our mistakes. Just ride up Sleeping Child Creek from the trailhead for a technical out and back.
