The Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race pits riders and bikes in its two-person team format against some of the biggest mountains in the eastern U.S., against the iffy weather of spring at elevation, against the sheer numbers (miles, climbing, time bonuses, etc.) and against themselves. Formerly, and perhaps more accurately, dubbed the Pisgah Death March, this epic celebrated its 8th year in 2010. This is the story of how two intrepid riders from Virginia set out to conquer the odds in this monster race brewed and served up just outside of Asheville, NC – home to a special type of masochistic mountain bike madness.

Story and photos by Randy King

The unofficial Big Mountain Riding team – my teammate Randy Lewis (R.L.) and I – arrived at the 2010 Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race (PMBAR) at 7:20 a.m. in an off and on light rain. It was my fifth PMBAR, and R.L.’s first. It was also his first epic event. Our goals were simple and prioritized: 1. Finish. 2. Finish safely. 3. Finish before dark. 4. Finish strong. 5. Finish close to the middle of the pack.

Gathering in the dawn's early light, pre-race for the 2010 PMBAR

As the gray daylight gradually grew, we went through mandatory gear check and got our number tags.  Then we took down the bikes and geared up. We headed across the road to Davidson River Campground, since Pisgah Productions had sprung for only one porta-john this year (perhaps in the spirit of the general recession?). The 7:50 a.m. pre-race meeting was more calm than in the years of the passport format. [In 2009 the organizers switched to handing out a pre-marked Pisgah Ranger District map. Previously, teams had to supply their own maps and were handed a paper passport with postage stamp sized pictures of the terrain around each check point. They then had to mark off all off-limits roads on their maps pre-race.]  Our team started slowly – in our reading of the map and in getting going. When the race starts at 8 a.m., everybody has to ride the same first stretch of trail – the big climb up Black Mountain to Pressley Gap. So, many just take off and check their map at the Gap. Or, if they’re locals, they know how to get to the checkpoints, and just need to ascertain where they are, not figure out how to get there. We got going at about 8:15-8:20. We rode up the 1400-foot elevation gain Black Mountain climb, catching a few racers, including the first teams having issues (mechanical and physical).

Start to Squirrel Gap Check Point (Getting our flow on)

It's hustle and flow wherever you can in the epic PMBAR

We climbed to more than two miles to Hickory Knob and descended to Pressley Gap.  R.L. rode in a minute later, carrying my water bottle. Not good to lose that on the first downhill. I secured it with a bungee cord. Looking over the map, I decided to go for the fire road to Buckhorn Gap versus climbing across Black Mountain on single track. We put it in the big chain ring and raced down Maxwell Cove road to the next junction. I still wasn’t sure which check point to go to first or exactly how to get there, but we headed for Buckhorn Gap and passed some more people on the forest service road climb to the gap. One guy wanted to pace line with us. I didn’t know what that meant. Then he said we were going a little fast for them. Their team was one of the ones we started to leap frog with for the rest of the day (the cast of characters in our little drama). At Buckhorn Gap, we encountered a big bunch of teams eating and sorting out where to go next.

We snacked, including some “real” food – I had half a turkey and Swiss sandwich.  I picked a route and we took off down the hill on Buckhorn Gap Trail – a trail that started out as doubletrack and narrowed to single as we descended. We hit a junction where I planned on going left on South Mills River trail, to connect with gravel fire road again. However, I pulled out the map to check and saw several teams go right on South Mills River trail. Someone said that this was the way to go, and they were local, so we changed directions. Turned out to be one of the highlights of the ride – nice, flowing singletrack for several miles followed by a technical but rideable climb up to the junction with Squirrel Gap trail. Along the way we enjoyed the flow with two other teams in front of us. However,the pace highlighted one of the weak points of single speed bikes in big mountain riding events. The lead team were two single speeders. On this descending, flowing trail, we could have been using the big chain ring to make up speed. However, the SS’ers were stuck in coasting mode. As we crossed a creek, we got in front of them for a tech climbing section. They too remained recurring cast members.

Another team (Luis Calderon / Karlos Rodriguez) that we leap-frogged all day was with us on that flowing train as well. The one rider had his iPod connected to speakers strapped on his handlebars. As we rolled up on them, he was jamming to Ludicris and trying to get a sing-along going. “Come on, everybody,” he yelled. “Sing it: ‘Roll Out. Roll Out. Roll Out.’” Team “Speaker Box” was quite vocal, and throughout the ride we were entertained by their alternating complaints and braggadocio.

Mid-creek mishaps entertained racers at the Squirrel Gap CP

Our chosen first checkpoint (CP) sat at the junction of Squirrel Gap Trail and Cantrell Creek Trail, beside the rocky crossing of Cantrell Creek. The creek ran in two channels at the crossing, with wet rocks lining both sides and a central rock shoal wetted by passing tires. I rode into it and held together for the crossing and the climb up wet rocks to where 10 teams or so were at the unmanned CP. [Yay for me ] Many other riders were not as fortunate (including my teammate), and the CP’s entertainment consisted mostly of hearing the slide of tires on wet rocks and watching riders or bike pushers go down on the wet stones.

"The Bugs," a Singlespeed team that rocked all day long

Having attained our first CP at about 11 a.m. (approx. 3-hours into the event), we filtered water in Cantrell Creek, losing 10-minutes or so filling our CamelBaks and bottles. I do believe that going forward, I will bring only iodine pills and not a filter. A filter takes up a lot of room in the packs, weighs much more than pills and sucks up too much time. One of the reasons we kept seeing the same people all day is because of the time we spent filtering water.

“The Bugs” caught up with us at the CP. These were the two single speeders who had lead our little train on the flowing descent. Shanna Powell and Laura Goetz were dressed as a bumble bee and a red bug, complete with leotards, tutus and tights and helmet-mounted antennae. They were cheerful and repeatedly caught up with us any time we stopped for more than a few minutes to eat, filter or change a flat throughout the day.

Squirrel Gap Check Point to Bradley Creek Check Point (An uneventful crossing)

Leaving the CP, we worked our way uphill along the flanks of Laurel and Poundingstone mountains. We caught up to another of our “friends” at the crest of the mountain. This was co-ed team whose leader – the guy – kept leaving his teammate far behind on every climb. He would wait for her – sometimes for 20-minutes or so – only at the top of the climbs or right before the CP. She was cheerful throughout the day, riding alone. However they clearly violated the spirit of the event (and the rules, which say that teammates must remain within shouting distance of each other).

Chilling with the famous and popular Bradley Creek Check Point host, Mark

As we turned our wheels downhill on Poundingstone Mountain, we dropped down along Laurel Creek to Bradley Creek and our next CP. Laurel Creek trail provided some entertaining switchbacks, water bars and proved aptly named. In some sections, riding crop-like Laurel branches choked the trail and thwapped our knuckles, arms and faces as we tried to see the trail through their shiny, thick leaves. We had to follow the orange blazes here, because offshoot trails ran in all directions along the creek. At the bottom we crossed Bradley Creek’s wide and rocky flow and made our way up into a field to our second CP. This was our deepest fording, and very mild by Pisgah standards. In years past I have crossed creeks going on three-feet deep. Here, the water didn’t exceed 18-inches. One could probably have rode across.

We checked into our second CP around 12:30 p.m. At the Bradley Creek  CP we met up with our amigos again, and took pictures with the unsuspecting CP host, whom I had declared a ‘popular guy’. He was quite surprised when The Bugs wanted a photo with him. One of the riders, Mr. Leave-Her-Behind, related a story from Pisgah Productions other race, the Pisgah 36 (basically two consecutive days of PMBAR distances and elevation gain spiced with random challenges and time cut-offs – formerly and more accurately called The Most Horrible Thing Ever). He said teams had to shotgun three Pabst Blue Ribbon beers at Bradley Creek CP for the Pisgah 36.

Bradley Creek Check Point to Spencer Gap Trail Check Point (Hammer Time)

A moment to celebrate - attaining our first CP

Leaving Bradley Creek, we started up a prolonged fire road climb to Yellow Gap and Forest Service Road (FSR) 1206. “Hey, are you locking out your suspension on these climbs?” R.L. asked. I was not. How many different adjustments on my Fox suspension? Every climb from then on, I locked out the fork and the shock. It really conserved my energy. We climbed from 2450 feet to 3200 feet elevation in about 3 miles or so. Once again we shed teams on the climb like a dog after a hard winter, catching the last of five or so teams as we approached the gate at Yellow Gap. On FSR 1206, we faced a high speed gravel road descent and our first road open to vehicular traffic. We dropped down the sweeping switchbacks, riding at each one’s personal limits for risk tolerance. One tire slide out would peel off flesh in massive road rash. FSR 1206 took us right through our campground, North Mills River Recreation Area. We filled water at the campground, glad for the time-saving faucets. Going out of the campground, we faced a paved and gravel road climb up Wash Creek Road to the next CP.

This proved our strongest leg. We pushed tall gears on the climb wherever the road bed eased its grade, and we passed about ten teams on the climb to the CP at the junction of FSR 5000 and Spencer Gap Trail. I knew I was pushing a tall gear, but at one time I was surprised to look down and see I was in the big chain ring up front. All along the climb we met teams flying down the hill at high speeds. Starting out on the paved final section before the gate, we would hear the singing tires of the descenders before they hove into sight, and the air smelt of hot brakes. We attained the CP faster and easier than I thought we would. I almost missed it, as it was off to the side on a gated-off road, and almost hidden by trees. I looked up that side road to see if it had a lot of tire tracks, and saw the flicker of colored banners. The CP volunteer here had planned for a long day, and was close to the road so he could easily provide for his comforts. Cigar smoke drifted around the little open-sided tent, and a cooler held his cold beverages of choice. After checking in around 2:45 p.m., we only spent about five minutes or less at this CP.

Spencer Gap Check Point to Turkey Springs Gap Check Point (Moments of doubt and pain)

Between us and the next CP were two gravel road descents and two monster climbs. We put the bikes into the big chain rings and took off down the hill, riding into all of the teams we had passed. One poor chap was fighting off leg cramps within 200-yards of the Spencer Gap Trail CP. I took the descent slower than I thought I would, hanging with R.L. Still, I almost became the new hood ornament for a Ford F-250 climbing up Wash Creek Road. The driver voiced to me my sentiments toward him as we passed each other on the narrow gravel road. Wash Creek falls down the mountain right beside the road, and an occasional glance in that direction on the climb and descent revealed the creek to be very scenic and clear, with primitive campgrounds scattered along its banks. That’s one of the downsides to going to a great place like Pisgah National Forest for a competitive event versus a ride – you don’t have the time or the excess energy to enjoy the scenery or the extras. On the descent of Wash Creek Road I also saw a big fallen tree that had been modified for a long log ride some five feet off the ground. No time!

Looking at my watch and seeing how much of a gap we had opened on some of our leap-froggers (including the Pace Liners) with our strong climb, I began to dream aspirational fantasies like finishing by 6 p.m. – in time for the raffle drawing of the Industry 9 wheels, and a seemingly nice round number for a finishing time. I even floated the fantasy of going for all five CP’s. However, as we zoomed down the final stretch of Wash Creek Road – paved and closed to traffic – R.L. said he needed to stop in at the restroom in the campground. We both used the restroom there, refilled water at the spigots and ate. We lost about 20 minutes at North Mills River Campground on our second stop there. As R.L. wolfed down a peanut butter bagel at the water spigot, team Speaker Box rolled through and headed up FSR 1206. “Ain’t nobody that can descend gravel roads like I can,” hollered the following member of their team as they rolled past. “I’m the ____ at gravel downhills!”

Leaving the campground on FSR 1206, we faced one of the day’s biggest climbs, the daunting gravel road ascent back to Yellow Gap. Freshly fed, buoyed by our killer leg to Spencer Gap Trail, and feeling better after the bio break, we targeted a few of the teams that had just passed us at our campground stop. Unfortunately for them, team Speaker Box didn’t like gravel road climbs as much as descents. We caught them on the climb up FSR 1206, as well as another team. We were also passed by a team putting down a very motivated pace. From their speed and hunkered down look I had to ask if they were going for all five. “Yep.” they responded, and left me in the pale gray dust of the gravel road.

Attaining Yellow Gap, we snacked and watched as the two teams we had passed on the climb struggled up to the gap. The team dynamic really comes into play on big challenges. The two teams we passed were quite unevenly matched on the climb. The lead rider of the second team we caught was climbing strong, while his teammate was standing still when we passed him, taking a breather beside the gravel road. I have been in their shoes. The first two years that I  tackled the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race, my teammate Darren Wood was a much stronger climber than I. I remember struggling just to grind granny gear up the FSR 1206 climb to Yellow Gap. The stronger team member has to balance his own riding style with spending some of their extra energy on motivating their teammate and getting them to push their personal limits. Meanwhile, teams like the one that passed me on the climb on their way to all five CP’s operate like a well-oiled machine. Whether that’s because of individual drive, or because of familiarity with each other, I don’t know. However, they were only a bike distance or two apart on that climb, and moving well. While I have become a much stronger rider, and now lead the climbing for the team, I am still learning the team dynamic, and finding the right mix of drill sergeant, motivational speaker and friend.

Lingering only briefly at Yellow Gap, we pedaled off down the other side of the gap on FSR 1206. We had made the choice to go to the base of Pilot Rock via 1206, and hike-a-bike up to the next CP on Pilot Rock Trail, then turn around and descend that tech-rider’s dream. At Yellow Gap we could have turned right onto Laurel Mountain Trail, a ridge line singletrack trail leading up to Turkey Spring Gap. However, I had memories from a past PMBAR of an interminable trail that dropped and climbed over and over again and seemed to never end. My memories of Pilot Rock Trail were from descending it that same PMBAR. I remembered it as a mile or so of very technical, rocky trail. Better to bite the bullet and hike-a-bike for a little than to spend hours on singletrack, I thought. So did many others. This may have been a mistake.

PMBAR racers have to carry all their own tools and repair items

Once FSR 1206 started to climb again, R.L. had a flat in his front tire, and we stopped roadside to change it. Sure enough, our leap-frogging friends began to overtake us. Mr. Leave-Her-Behind had this cheerful observation about our situation: “It’s all good, you know. Get’s you to slow down and enjoy the ride.” He then spun off into whatever oblivion he slipped into as he left his teammate behind on another climb. We got the new tube in place and pumped up as team Speaker Box passed us.

Entering Pilot Rock Trail, things got bad quickly. We crossed a stream on foot and tackled the first climbing pitch. Mr. Leave-Her-Behind and I were able to out distance our teammates and team Speaker Box in short order as we granny-geared it through the mildly technical early part of the climb. I stopped for R.L. at the junction with the Pilot Rock Base Trail, and did not see Mr. LHB until the crest of the trail, some 40-minutes later. We continued to hike our bikes up through rock gardens and steep, rutted trail. Pilot Rock Trail turned out to be 2.5 miles of all climb, not the mile or so I had remembered. I had a flat on my front tire – very odd considering how little riding I was doing at the time. R.L. had the pump, so I pushed my bike to the crest, walking some rideable sections, so that I could get the tire off before R.L. came up.

A rare break to enjoy the views on Pilot Rock

Riders coming down frequently forced us hikers off the trail. One guy had a pep talk for us climbers. “We came over Laurel Mountain Trail. I just couldn’t face this horrible climb up Pilot Rock. It’s just such a morale crusher.” He thought it was about the same time-wise, coming over Laurel Mountain Trail. Thanks, buddy!

At the crest I got the bad news from Mr. Leave-Her-Behind. The CP was not at the crest. No, he told me cheerily. “It’s about a quarter mile downhill from here.” He must have waited for his teammate for more than 20-minutes, atop the ridge. R.L. and his teammate rode up and I pumped up the new tube while Team We Ride Apart descended to the CP. The insects were atrocious and aggressive atop the ridge, and I was bitten multiple times while I struggled with the tube change. Team Speaker Box’s lead rider came up while we finished inflating the tube.

“I was hoping a bear would come out of the woods and kill me,” he said of the Pilot Rock Trail climb. He had to wait for his teammate now. R.L. and I descended to our final CP, meeting our friends of team We Ride Apart coming back out. She was dreading the descent. “Yeah, it will be O.K.,” he drawled. “Once you get going, just let off the brakes and let it happen.” Uh, huh. Riders who don’t like descending are not known for “just letting off the brakes.”

We rode into the Turkey Springs Gap CP at about 5:30 p.m. with a storm building ominously off to the west – hence the insect frenzy.  “Where ya’ll going next?” asked the CP host.

“We’re headed home.” I said. I just wanted to get out of there and get back to base. The fun was over, and it was now a race against the dark. I was not looking forward to the descent of Pilot Rock Trail. Specifically one rock garden. I hoped I would have a safe dismount when I did run out of roll in the rocks.

Turkey Springs Gap Check Point to Finish Line (Get ‘r done)

Pilot Rock Trail is a tech rider's delight on the descent

It was time to finish the thing. We hiked our bikes back up to the ridge, and then pointed the front wheels downhill. Now it became clear why Pilot Rock Trail had seemed so short in my memory. Going down only took 20-minutes or so. We caught up with team We Ride Apart at the stream crossing at the bottom. However, we had to refill water, and we filtered right there at Bradley Creek. This meant that we lost more time. The Bugs came out of the woods and started off up the climb, as did team Speaker Box. Water filtered and 10-15 minutes lost, we started off on FSR 1206 again. I had debated about taking Buckhorn Gap Trail in, or riding further up FSR 1206 to 276 to Club Gap Trail. However, shortly after we got onto Buckhorn Gap Trail, I remembered it from a past PMBAR, and remembered how easy it was. Going for 276 would have been a bad mistake!

We raced against the darkness gathering under the trees. The final descent of Black Mountain Trail would be hairy in low light, and I did not want to stop and put on lights. I middle chain ringed much of the climb to Buckhorn Gap. Onto the gravel fire road, it was big ring time. We caught The Bugs on the climb. Going down the gravel, I reeled in team Speaker Box and another team, Paul Diemer / Gordon Jenks. I picked up the most mud of the entire race on that descent, plowing through a couple of wet spots in my haste. At the junction with Maxwell Cove I waited for R.L. and changed to clear lenses in my glasses. Team Speaker Box, who had been consulting their map in fear of missing the turn-off – a healthy fear – caught up, as did the other team we had passed. R.L. came alongside and we started our final climb of the PMBAR 2010. We reeled in team Speaker Box, now fallen silent and grim as they ground away at yet another gravel climb. Attaining Pressley Gap, we encountered a group of adventure racers or some such, who were gathered in the dusk and asking us about how long we’d be out there and how many more were behind us.

Filtering vs. iodine? Filtering takes a lot of time

Onto singletrack, we pushed our bikes up to Hickory Knob and caught up to another co-ed team and the guys I had passed on the previous gravel road descent. I waited at the top, eager for R.L. to catch up so we could light up that final downhill. I wanted to ask the co-ed team (LeAnne McCann / Jon Carmack) if they’d let us in front, but R.L. was still behind, and I couldn’t ask them to wait for him. Once he crested Hickory Knob we started down Black Mountain. I had a lot of energy and the pressing desire to get home, so I put on the afterburner.

I quickly caught up to the co-ed team, who were riding conservatively. I rode close behind them without crowding. However the guy, who was trailing, began to get nervous and skid a bit in corners. His partner yelled back, asking why he was skidding. “”Cause there is a guy right behind me,” he replied.

“We should let him buy if you’re riding beyond your control,” she hollered.”Ask him if he wants by.”

“You want by?”

“If that’s cool with you,” I said.

“He said ‘if that’s cool with you.’”

“Let him by.”

She was not happy, but they let me by. R.L., descending a minute or two behind me, caught up to them when the guy flatted. It proved to be a bit much for team morale. R.L. reported that they were yelling at each other up and down the hill when he rode past and delivered the bad news about her teammate’s flat.

I waited for R.L. at the last creek crossing, which offered three routes across. In the middle was a two log bridge with a hand rail on one side only and no deck. To the left was a steep U-out that needed some good momentum to ford. On the right someone had built a gap jump kicker. That one would require moxie, mi amigos. Things were tight in that area, and the trail came around a switchback shortly before the crossing. More power to the leapers who cleared that jump. R.L. swept the switchback and went for the U-out. What chutzpah!

Crossing the creek, we were on the victory lap. We dropped down the remaining singletrack to the junction with the doubletrack run out. We skated into the finish line at 7:52 p.m., two minutes after team We Ride Apart, who were snarled in a random gear check (the only members of our leap-frogging friends that we had not caught). We had made it before dark, and before the 12-hour mark. And we could only marvel and admire the Koerbers, who won the race by reaching all five CP’s and still finishing first, at 4:17 p.m. Within ten minutes of our finish the rain that had been building to the west all afternoon arrived, and we moved under the tents with our vegan burritos provided by Pisgah Productions. We wolfed down two, grabbed another two and headed for the car. Time to get out of those stinking clothes, and to celebrate our achievements that first day in May, 2010.

After the Finish Line

Teamwork required - The duo format of the PMBAR means team dynamics play a vital role

Team Big Mountain Riding had ridden approximately 65-miles, climbed more than 9,000-feet, and put in about 10-hours of ride time after subtracting for filtering water, bio breaks, map reading, etc. We met our goals of finishing, finishing safely, and finishing before dark. I felt I finished strong with plenty more remaining in the tank. R.L. had finished his first epic and finished it without having a moment of complete doubt and pain. He had not hit rock bottom; he had rode strong. We also met my goal of setting a personal best, both in time and in placement. We came in about 15-minutes earlier than I had ever done. And we placed 41st out of 75 starting teams.  20 teams were unable to finish the race. Despite the clear expectation-setting done by Eric and the Pisgah Productions crew – the race’s tag line is “Crushing Souls Since 2003″ – people continue to meet their match at the PMBAR. An epic event like this does have its share of mechanical and physical mishaps and meltdowns. All in all though, what a challenge. What an Adventure!

© 2010 Big Mountain Riding

The smooth "on-ramp" makes for an easy entrance to this off-camber log ride.

Liberty Mountain Trail System on Candler’s Mountain, outside Lynchburg, VA, boasts more than 60-miles of trails ranging from wide service roads to narrow hillside singletrack. Please see the Getting There page for a trail map and more details on access, eats and lodging.  The system has grown greatly in the past few years thanks to the work of Liberty’s Lars Larson and his team and willing volunteers from around the region.  Some of the more exciting additions to the trails are the bridges and technical features. Advanced riders looking for something to spice up their riding can hit most of the features the mountain has to offer in this 30-60 minute loop that I’ve dubbed the Tour de Bridges, for a little cycling history flair.

Story: Randy King

Photos: Randy King, Scott Schekman

Park at Liberty’s Snowflex Center (out in the gravel section of the lot) or on the shoulder at the FAA Tower road, about 1/3 mile up Candlers Mt. Road past the Snowflex Center. From the Snowflex Center lot, start down Lake Trail (in the corner of lot). [If you park at the FAA tower, you'll be riding the tour in reverse, starting from and ending at the top of A Trail Too Far.] There are two features on Lake Trail. One is obviously located trail side to the rider’s right after reaching the flat part of the trail and before the first trail junction. It is easier from the uphill side. It’s an off-camber, flat-topped log (about 8″ wide) ride with a very good angled entrance ramp on the uphill side and a straight exit ramp on the downhill end. It is about 18″ off the ground at its highest point, and sloped downhill. Very easy ride, though visually challenging with the off-camber top. The other feature is near the two wooden bridges crossing the creek to the left of the trail at the first junction. It is easier from the uphill end. Cross the creek and take the new trail almost immediately to the right. The log has an angled ramp approach from this, the uphill side, and a straight exit ramp off the downhill side. The log is flat-topped and has traction cross-cuts. It is about 8″-1o” wide and crosses a creek. It is about three-feet off the creek bed at its highest point.  After railing these features, follow Lake Trail all the way to its end, skirting around Hydeaway Lake.

Riding the edge - getting all higgledy-piggledy - before getting back on track.

At the end of Lake Trail, turn left and watch for the right onto The Lasso. The Lasso follows a creek for awhile and then starts uphill. The next feature is at the top of the first rise, to the right of the trail. It is a flat-topped, log feature with earthen, angled ramps on each end. Its 6″ wide top is cross-cut for traction and it is easily rideable from either end. The log is about 18″ to two-feet high at its highest point. Follow Lasso to its intersection with itself, and turn left, continuing gradually uphill. The Lasso tees into an unnamed singletrack. Turn left and descend an eroded section through a sharp U to a creek. Cross the creeks on a 2″X6″ skinny to your left and a wooden ladder bridge. Follow the unnamed trail until it leads to A Trail Too Far, to the right at a worn-down log crossing.

A Trail Too Far (ATTF) tracks gradually uphill along a creek valley. Along the way riders will encounter the densest concentration of bridges and features on the mountain. Two “rainbow” ladder bridges, a big log ride with wooden ladder ramp, and three level ladder bridges make the trail a fun mix of weaving singletrack and skills riding. Several log crossings keep riders focused.

The first “rainbow” ladder bridge on ATTF is a Candler’s Mountain classic. About 12″-18″ wide, it curves and arches and is about three-feet above the creek at its highest. The easy route is through the creek to the bridge’s left. Immediately following this bridge is the mountain’s burliest log ride, a large downed natural log (with no flattened top or traction cross-cuts). It features significant ramps on either end, and a 20-foot long log ride. It is easier from the uphill end. The ramp on the downhill end is a ladder with a four-foot long incline and an eight-foot long angled level ladder and then a three-foot down ramp onto the log. The log is a natural surface, and has two recesses that can stop a slow-moving front tire. It is about two and half-feet off the ground at its highest. The ramp on the uphill end is another “rainbow,” an arched, straight line ladder bridge. It is the easy part of this feature.

Shortly after sewing together these two features, riders will cross the intersection of ATTF and a jeep trail. Continue straight on ATTF, to the next two features. One is a simple, low ladder bridge, crossing a wet spot. It is about 18″ wide by 3-feet long and only about eight inches off the ground. Next up is a more challenging feature. Only about a foot off the ground at its highest, this feature’s challenge is in its transitions. It starts off only six inches wide, with a 2″X6″. Eight feet in, it widens into a 10′ ladder bridge that goes from about 10″ wide to 18″ wide before ending with a tight squeeze between two trees. This feature is easier from the downhill end.

The final bridge on ATTF is a 12′ long ladder bridge over a creek. It is about a foot wide and about four-feet above the creek at its highest. It is straight and flush with the trail bed. Only two challenges stand between the rider and the top of ATTF – one foot-high log crossing and a steep climb. At the top of the very sudden and steep (yet ride-able) final 100-yards of A Trail Too Far, turn right on the grassy Lake Hydeaway Rd.

Follow Lake Hydeaway Rd. downhill till it begins to climb. At the top of the first stage of the rise, turn into the woods to the left on the clearly worn, unsigned doubletrack that heads downhill. Descend to the intersection with Lake Trail. Turn left and start back uphill to the parking lot and the end of the ride.

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

This is what some folks call fun - Big Mountain Riding

Today my fingers betrayed my body, signing me up for the 2010 Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race.

This is a Big Mountain Riding classic, an event I’ve finished three times, and one that almost finished me at least twice. It is a two-person team event, so I’ve convinced a friend to join me in this mad endeavor. Well, after 10-hours of technical riding, friend may not be the most accurate description of our relationship.

Going forward I will highlight our preparations for this beast-mother of an epic, and will debrief it after the fact. To get started, here is the required gear list for the back country adventure:

Required Gear:

1. Helmet. (1 per racer)~~~Racers must wear helmets ANY TIME they are riding their bikes. Uphill, Downhill, Gravel Road or Pavement. Racers not wearing a helmet while riding will be DQ’d.
2. Rain Jacket (1 per racer)~~~ (Plastic Trash bag doesn’t count as a Jacket) Even if it’s 70 degrees and sunny, don’t mess around. I don’t expect anyone to spend the night in the woods… but if you do, you’ll want a jacket. I promise.
3. Water Filter or Iodine (1 per team) ~~~ For the sake of your stomach, and those that will be around you after the race, DO NOT DRINK DIRECTLY FROM RIVERS OR CREEKS.
4. Emergency blanket (1 per racer)~~~ See above
5. Timepiece (1 per team) Watch, cycling computer, telephone, any device with the correct time.
6. First Aid Kit w/ Gauze, Tape, Ace Bandage, etc. (1 per team)~~~ Be prepared for anything!
7. Whistle (1 per team)
8. Lighter (1 per team)~~~ see #2
9. Compass or GPS unit (1 per team)~~~ What good is a map without a compass?
10. Red ‘Blinkie’ rear light (1 per racer)~~~ Riders must burn a tail-light anytime they are on pavement or gravel roads, day or night.
11. Emergency Light Source (Flashlight, LED, etc.) (1 per racer)~~~ There is a good chance your team will be arriving at the start/finish after dark. Bring appropriate lighting to get off the trail.

Can’t you tell how much fun this is going to be just from scanning the list?

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

Eight hours into the gnarly technicality of the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race, I’m feeling battered and bounced into oblivion. My Gary Fisher HiFi boasts almost 5-inches of suspension front and back to “float” over the rocks and roots, and I have 27 gears to get me up those steep trails. Yet, inside, I’m begging for mercy. Then some dude on a single-speed bike with no suspension passes me on the next climb. Actually, that would be inaccurate. Most of those singlespeed riders passed me on the first nasty climb of the race. I’ll only see them back at the finish when they’re collecting prizes for taking most of the top spots overall.

How can a single-speeder be faster?

-Momentum: Single-speed riders rely on momentum to move quickly. Because of their one gear, restarting requires a lot of energy, and may take more time than someone with a working drive train. So SSers like to keep rolling once they’re on pace. This is even more true when paired with 29″ wheels, as many SS bikes are. On climbs, the SSer has incentive to keep the hammer down and maintain his momentum. This is easier the faster he pedals. Think of riding in your big chain ring up front. Geared riders often slow down and try to spin in an easier gear on prolonged climbs. Single-speeders will pass them on these climbs if they are rideable. “Momentum’s key for a single-speeder in other ways; keep your momentum on the rolling hills, especially the short steep ones. And truly I’m only working half the time compared to the geared guys. I work on climbs, but every where else I’m drafting off of them and recovering,” says single-speed champion Fuzzy Mylne.

-It’s not the shoes: In Michael Jordan’s heyday, Nike used to run commercials quipping “It’s gotta be the shoes.” Well, those single-speeders that are rocking their way to the podium would be really fast on geared bikes too. Additionally, riding a single-speed bike all day takes a special form of tolerance for discomfort. So does marathon racing. So the SSers are suited to the event.

-The Law of Averages: Successful single-speed riders try to maintain momentum and pace, to make their riding easier. So, if their gearing is higher than the average of your gear switching, and they push that gear to a consistent max, they will outpace you. SSers don’t lose time on shifting, they get up to speed and try to stay at speed. Better single-speed riders adjust their gearing to be as efficient as possible depending on their strengths (spinning versus stomping).

Poor conditions are a chance to gear down to pass up SSers

How to beat single-speeders in an epic event:

-Big Ring – Play to your advantages. One of your biggest is that large chain ring up front. Every chance you have, level trail, slight descent, downhill … run the big ring and crank it hard. Every turn you make in the big ring is an advantage over the single-speeders with their smaller gearing. To win in the battle of average speed, you have to up your average. Pedal in the big ring past the point of pain. If you need inspiration to keep going, look back and see how far back the nearest single-speeder is.

-Granny Gear - Sense a theme? On those long technical climbs, leverage your easier gears to make ground on the single-speeders. Any section that disallows a steady pace (i.e. rock gardens, tight switching climbs, roots) is where you can whip out your granny gear and flog the SSers with it. Soft ground or poor conditions are another place where you can gear down and keep pedaling while the single-speeders walk. This only makes sense if you can up your average speed over the SSers. If you’re spinning away like a mad hamster, and they’re keeping up with you on foot, then you’re not heeding our final tip on beating Single-speed riders:

-Efficiency – Learning to spin efficiently will mean you’re getting the most out of your +20 gears. Shifting at the optimal time leads to less gear grinding and chances for the dreaded chain suck. Keep your drive train in prime condition with lots of TLC. Improve your strength and style so you can push a harder gear on the climbs and save that Granny Gear for super technical and steep stuff.

Thoughts for the trail: Put in the miles, pushing bigger gears and mastering your shifting. Boost your technical skills and stop and start riding skills to take advantage of trail sections that will disrupt SSers momentum. Be ready that local single-speeders will know the trail better than you and will be ready to compensate for the momentum loss. Watch and learn from how they tackle those sections. You can apply it to your riding. Remember, we’re all part of the mountain biking culture, and we all succeed or fail together. So, if you haven’t tried one, get on a single-speed and see what it’s like. SSers, keep pushing the envelope of what we can do on one-geared cycles. I know I’ll continue to see mono-coggers on the podium at epic race events.

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

Ride 30 ‘n 30 – About as “all climb” as one can get. 1-hour 10-minute, 4.4 miles back through Garin Park from the Zeile Creek entrance to the Bailey Ranch exit and up the hill home. Riding into the woods at Zeile Creek at dusk went against my better sense. I was hoping any lurking mountain lion wouldn’t be a fan of the Subway club sandwich I had in my back pocket. Once I cleared the damp dark of the woods (without popping on the head light – though I did sing a bit out loud) the nostalgia hit early. I would miss this purpose of riding my bike every day. And I’d miss the odd beauty of Garin Park – we were to fly out East the following day. I stopped at the saddle where the jeep road heads uphill toward Bailey Ranch Drive. In the light of the full moon I ate the rest of the sandwich and let my eyes adjust enough to see my moon shadow. In the midst of a park with cows grazing and wild pigs rustling in the canyons as well as wild turkeys roosting in trees, I ate my club – roast beef, ham and turkey – sandwich and was not slaughtered or banished from what was now, in the dark, their domain. Then I got on my bike and made my way up that hill one last time. The moon stretched my faint shadow out behind me and ahead I saw the warm lights of home. Part of me wanted to turn around and ride all night in that other and colder ghostly light.

See the rest of the rides below …

Garin Park's bald hills

The Big Mountain Riding Thirty in Thirty challenge:

30 rides of at least 30-minutes in 30 days. Inspired by an interview with Mark Wier on the Fox Racing Riders web site, it started as a goal of riding seven consecutive days. And then, while tooling through the wet woods on day 3, I scoffed at how mundane that was and upped the ante. 30 days. And I knew already that those days included Christmas, coast-to-coast travel, and a few other minor obstacles – not to mention the weather. Things got rough quickly, with three rides in the cold rain within the first week of the challenge and snow flurries and iced-over puddles along the trails on some days. Ah, but other days were sunny and in the 50’s. And on one Tuesday night we rode for more than 20-minutes without lights, rolling in the luminescent glow of the full moon.  Another day I saw a red-tailed hawk take flight off of a behemoth fallen tree on a steep side hill. The challenge moved to California, and I encountered a coyote creeping back home in the early morning, and heard owls hooting at dusk

These are the moments that I sought with the 30 ‘n 30 challenge. Those “pocket miracles,” contained little moments of wonder and delight that only come to the work-a-day biker, spinning the cranks regardless of the weather. The 30 ‘n 30 plan had other benefits. In an epic race one rides rain or shine. See the 2009 Middle Mountain Momma XXC race. So riding regardless of the weather is good training. Additionally, I want to make a living (or something) writing and talking and riding bikes. As anybody who puts in miles by themselves in the woods knows, it’s a great place to think. New story ideas, union with the bike, increased skills.

However, is there such a thing as too much of a good thing? And would this be too much too late in the year? The play-by-play follows. You can read the post-challenge debrief here.

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1 ‘n 1: 45-minutes in the cold rain at Lynchburg’s Peaks View Park, solo, riding the perimeter. Weight after ride – 174 lbs.

2 ‘n 2: 2-hours in the moonlight at Lynchburg’s Liberty Mountain Trail System on Candler’s Mountain , group ride, Lower Dam to Five Points to DH trail to Paw-Paw to fire road to Powerline hill to fire road to Great Escape to Rogue’s Gallery to Horton’s Loop to Five Points to Upper Dam and out.

3 ‘n 3: 1-hour 10-minutes in the cold rain at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain, solo, U. Dam to Monorail to Peak-to-Peak to Five Points to fire road to Bobsled to climb DH trail to Five Points to L. Dam and out. Weight after ride 171 lbs.

4 ‘n 4: 1-hour 10-minutes solo in the sun and wind at Bedford County’s Falling Creek park. Parked at Turkey Hill, followed the race course out to White Rock Hill and the Slickrock trail. Did the Ridge Loop with Fat Albert and then Creekside, came out and rode back to Deer Trail, connected with Piney Ridge Trail and rode back on Turkey Hill trail. Weight after ride 171 lbs. Resting heart rate: 64.

5 ‘n 5: 1-hour 10-min. 6-mile solo in good, cool weather at Lynchburg’s Blackwater Creek Recreation Area. Took the Rail-to-Trail (R2T) to Creekside Trail and back to R2T to cut over to the Daura Rd trail. Did a short right loop on Sticks & Stones trail and back to R2T to the connector back to the Creekside Trail near the crest. Out on the “new” climb back to the R2T. Seen: Red hawk taking flight over creek valley, whitetail deer, one mad Kung Fu squirrel whose air walking chops would turn Jackie Chan green.

6 ‘n 5: 35-min., 3.25-mile solo at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain. 2,000′ of climbing. Started at Ridge Top Rd T.H. DH Trail to Bobsled to Paw Paw to Fire Rd almost to the top of Powerline hill to Bobsled Trail and back to T.H. Weight after ride 171 lbs. Resting heart rate: 64.

7 ‘n 6: 35-minutes solo neighborhood ride in the icy mix. Car struggles to start. Jack Rabbit Slim (the bike) is ready to roll. 3.6-miles, 500′ climbing. Mostly sprinting up the hill from the soccer field at the YMCA. Rode the drainage ditch on the way down – or attempted to. Thought I had it on the final run. 5-yards from the end, the front wheel stops like it’s planted. Back wheel comes up, I go forward, perch on the top tube, balancing one-wheeled, trying not to fixate on all the “so sharp! So hard!” rocks lurking all around. Bike falls back and I fall sideways, unable to unclip my right foot from the pedal. No rocks struck, though. Woo-hoo!

8 ‘n 7: 3.5-hours at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain. 9.9 miles, +/- 3,000′ climbing, group ride. Climbed Peak to Peak’s north face in the snow, coming up from Five Points. Lots of “just try it” moments and crashing on log rides, slippery descents, etc. Rode the dam again. A new bruise or two, a new raw spot on my shin.

9 ‘n 8: 30-minutes solo on Blackwater’s Sticks & Stones on a cold, sunny day. 2.03 miles.

10 ‘n 9: 50-minutes, 3.9-miles solo at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain in the 35° rain. Upper Dam to Five Points to Bobsled to climb up Downhill trail back to Five Pt’s. Lower Dam back out in the last wisps of light. Soaked from feet to thighs from tire spray.

11 ‘n 10: 1-hour, 4.2-miles solo at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain. 45° and sunny with water running everywhere from the rain. A Trail Too Far to Hydaway Rd, back up to the lower end of Blind Faith and then down to Lake Trail before cutting over mid-point to A Trail Too Far. ATF was a running stream in sections. Saw a whitetail running.

12 ‘n 11: 30-minutes solo at Peaks View Park. 40° and sunny with the trails drying out. TH 1 to TH 2 via Rollercoaster trail. Then the climb on Rockpile Trail. Back out to TH 1. Across the park to ride the drop down to the creek from the disc golf course. Almost savaged by a standard poodle who thought it was Kujo.

13 ‘n 13: 4-hour group ride at Danville, VA’s Angler’s Ridge, 15.5 miles of twists and turns and the occasional slick patch. 40° and partly sunny. We were plagued by mechanical issues – a flat tire, a broken chain, shifting issues, tweaked drive trains, etc. Still nobody got hurt, and that was good considering a few of the spills. Hit a teeter totter that was short and steep and pretty intimidating rolling in.

14 ‘n 14: 1-hour solo ride at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain. Sun had just broken out after a morning of icy rain. The trails on the front side U and L Dam and DH, were awash with running water. Cold day too, with temps in the high 30’s.

15 ‘n 15: The half-way point of the 30 ‘n 30 Challenge! 1-hour solo ride at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain. Gorgeous “warm” day, sunny with temps in the 50’s. U Dam to Luge Trail – Hike-a-bike up to Monogram Rd. Then, a grueling pedal up Peak-to-Peak to the top of the Monogram. Made it! Down the always-fun Psycle Pathe, all the way to the bottom. Connected to Alternate Flight Pattern up and out to Monogram Rd. Peak-to-Peak over the next ridge. Across the fire road and down Monorail. Lost it on the wet switch backs and bombed down through the woods to U Dam and out. Tomorrow’s supposed to be in the 60’s! Then the challenge shifts to Cali.

16 ‘n 16: 40-min solo ride at Candler’s / Liberty Mountain. Repeat of 15 ‘n 15. Without the trail repair stop.

17 ‘n 17: The initial California ride. A fun and relaxing solo foray into the woods at Hayward, CA’s Garin Regional Park. Mostly stuck to singletrack, and it was rewarding to see what a year of frequent riding has done for my skills in negotiating slick and twisty singletrack. Approximately 8-miles with +/- 1,400-feet of climbing.

18 ‘n 18: California cow trails. 2.5-hour solo with some free-form navigating from point to point. Missing the full sussy with the new Fox front-end on these hoof-trodden cow paths. Rode past a buzzard skeleton, what goes around …  Approximately 8.6-miles with +/- 1,200-feet of climbing.

19 ‘n 19: Some rough-shod fire roads and cattle-cut singletrack. 1.5-hour solo with some free-form navigating down the steep side of a bald hill. Really wish I had the full sussy here (whine, whine, whine) or a 29-er. Approximately 7.9-miles with +/- 1,000-feet of climbing.

20 ‘n 20: Quick out-and-back sally to Garin Park 45-minute solo morning ride. Saw a coyote slinking back from a night of coyote-ish debauchery and devilry.  4.6-miles with +/- 400-feet of climbing.

21 ‘n 21: 35-minutes solo ride, 4.8-miles, racing the sun back to home base. Garin Park in the cool dusk. +/- 600-feet of climbing.

22 ‘n 22: 35-minutes solo grind around the neighborhood in the cold, windy rain – in the dark. Punching the clock. Luckily, didn’t get nailed by a car in the fog.

23 ‘n 23: 1-hour solo exploration around the neighborhood and then dove into Garin Park to rustle up another coyote and find a calf skull on a cow trail. Beautiful sunny day, but windy. 5.8-miles.

24 ‘n 24 - Rode a new downhill route from Bailey Ranch entrance to Zeile Creek exit. 6-miles on Christmas eve. Then it was all uphill back home. What a hill climb. 700-feet vertical from the bottom back to the top.

25 ‘n 25 - 1-hour ride with my nephew Ajay. Downhill in Garin Park to Zeile Creek exit. Then the shuttle car picked him up and I rode back up to Bailey Ranch and out by myself. His first real mountain bike ride. Not sure he was a big fan.

26 ‘n 26 – 30-min solo morning commute to Garin Park. Hit the first rise and circuited the hill on cow track. 3.6 miles. Back in time to kick off the tourism for the day. A trip out to Point Reyes – a real wow-er. Got in even more exercise there with a mile run and a 300-step stair climb up from the light house.

27 ‘n 28 – 30-min. solo in the neighborhood. In the dark and rain. Getting back on the wagon.

28 ‘n 29 – 1-hour race against dusk in Garin Park. XC’d over to Newt Pond Trail and then up and out to the Bailey Ranch Rd. entrance. 5.9 miles. Just me, the owls and the cows.

29 ‘n 30 – A 30-min. DH bomb run of 4-miles through Garin Park and then climbing out Zeile Creek entrance to Dobbel Ave. and over to the Subway by the Cal State East Bay campus. Ate some energy there, watching the bike the entire time to make sure no one pedaled off with my brother-in-law’s ride.

© Big Mountain Riding

Let’s go riding way out west – Getting in some of the season’s last rides at Spokane’s Beacon Hill, Riverside Park and Mount Spokane trails

Story: Randy King

Photos: Randy King & Doug King

Some highlights of the Spokane riding scene, from IMBA:

• Four ski resorts offering mountain biking within an hour
• Mt. Spokane State Park (the largest state park in Washington), offers 90-miles of bike trails and embraces the downhill riding trend.
• Riverside State Park (the second largest state park in Washington), offers miles of beginner and intermediate trails.
• Camp Sekani City Park (Beacon Hill) has a network of intermediate and advanced cross-country, freeride and downhill trails.

Airing it out on Spokane's Beacon Hill

Everything’s bigger out west, you know. Well, that’s all good theoretically, except it’s a little too real as I nose the wheel of my all mountain bike onto a ladder bridge over a gap big enough to swallow me – bike and all. That’s when I remember how close I am to the birthplace of gut-check features – British Columbia – and how far away I am from my familiar Appalachian terra firma. Aw, shucks. Just roll it! Or not.

While visiting my brother, he and I fit in very different rides on three of Spokane’s trail systems: Free riding lite at Beacon Hill, cross country at Riverside, and shuttled downhilling at Mount Spokane.

This Beacon Hill feature proved sketchy on narrow tires - from fttrc.org

Beacon Hill Recreation Area spreads across several slopes on the ridgeline North of the Spokane River, and east of Market St. The area features a warren of trails for riders of all skill levels and persuasions. Trails range from sandy jeep roads to cross-country singletrack, to a downhill race course and features / drops that haul out your inner coward screaming into the daylight.

The Beacon Hill Recreation Area is a work of love fueled by volunteers from the Fat Tire Trail Riders Club and the Beacon Hill Trails project, with generous support from area agencies. Some of the trails meander over the hillside, creating many options (and grades) for descending or climbing. Others are clearly more hell-bent, roiling over rock outcroppings and taking the rider up in the air. Certain features soured my stomach: a narrow wooden creation stood out  in the sky like a dock left high and dry at low tide. It ended abruptly, with the drop zone 10 – 12-feet below not visible until your front tire got dangerously close to the steep entry ramp.

Attempting some narrow bridge work, Beacon Hill

Still, the park offers variety, as evidenced by the bikes and riders we encountered. Our All Mountain rigs fell somewhere in the middle. We saw a family out on their hard tail ATB bikes on the XC trails and a pick-up truck full of Oshkosh B’ Gosh clad, full-facers unloading dual-crowned coil-sprung gravity sleds, as well as all-mountain bikes.

We parked at the Boulder Beach trail head (see directions below) and worked our way uphill to one of the the high points along the ridge. Our vantage point allowed us to test out our karma and mojo on a few small jumps and a steep ramp with a blind entrance. Once we played around a bit, we worked our way East to the real crest of the ridge. On the way back down we stuck to single track, and found a few fun skills sections. Back at the bottom, we climbed up to the West and tested our courage on the wood work. As dusk fell under the trees, we called it a great day and packed it up to go find some milk shakes at the nearest Zip’s Drive-in, a local fast food franchise.

Riverside Park has miles of mellow singletrack - from fttrc.org

Riverside State Park stretches along the Spokane and Little Spokane Rivers northwest of Spokane. The park’s nearly 10,000-acres cling to the twists of the rivers. However, in places the park expands and narrow, sandy single track darts off into the pines. Riverside State Park features more than 75-miles of trails plus the famous Centennial Trail that runs 37-miles from Spokane to Idaho.

On a cold, dry afternoon, we set out for a cross-country ride from the trailhead at Carlson Rd., heading south toward the Bowl and Pitcher Area. The temp hovered near my “a little cold for riding” point. Bad omens piled up deeper than the pine needles that carpeted the worn single track. In sight of the parking lot, Dig rolled into an immovable object and went over the bars – on a climb. When he put himself back together, the brakes on his vintage metallic rust-colored Schwinn Homegrown were sticking. Standing around with the cool air picking at us through our bike clothes, we managed to figure out a fix. Onward, time to warm up!

Basalt formations in Deep Creek Canyon

The surface on Riverside’s trails varies between sand and Basalt. Basalt formations are weirdly barrow-like and trails cut along their sides present lots of exposure. The rock tends to break off into sharp-edged chunks designed to shred tires and bodies. Approaching Deep Creek canyon, we descended a dicey section with several switch backs scattered with rock fragments and edged by some significant exposure. I did a full flying dismount attempting one of these turns, launching over the bars with my feet tucked up underneath me and setting down the landing gear to avoid a head-over-heels tumble on that pointy rock. The tech-iest sections in the park feature climbs, descents and switchbacks littered with Basalt outcroppings or detritus. For eastern riders, sand can be challenging too. However, the sandy sections we encountered were mild – just very dusty for the following rider(s).

The prettiest sections of the ride are along the Spokane River, with its clear blue water and rapids. The Bowl and Pitcher Area is a great place to view the river, either close-up from the suspension bridge, or from on high. The slope behind the Pitcher offers some very tech trails among the Basalt.

After missing our first connection and pedaling furiously to catch our shuttle car, we stuck to the theme and recovered with Maggie Moo’s ice cream.

Expect sudden sweeping switchbacks on Mount Spokane - from IMBA

Mount Spokane State Park looms over the surrounding area, and its nearly 6,000-foot altitude gives its trails some great attitude. Standing atop its windblown summit (where on cool days one can see other states and another country), the cooler temperatures and the view of the steep drop-off to the East bluster and bark at the rider, making one feel under assault and unwanted here before even one pedal crank. However, once you drop off the backside of that summit and find yourself carving down eroded single track among widely-spaced trees in an old burn zone, the trepidation fades and the grin starts to spread across your face. It only grows wider farther down the mountain. Dialed-in now,  you pilot your rig in slicing, side-to-side arcs through narrow gaps in the cedars on trails with colloquial-yet-accurate names like Jedi Trees. This is a dream; a dream that will never end until the trail head miles and thousands of vertical feet away in a different plane of existence. Except if you miscalculate one of those gaps by even an inch. Dream trees these are not, young Paduan.

The ground drops away quickly from the summit of Mount Spokane

I don’t get a lot of enjoyment from sipping a drink, nor does my brother. We revel in “big” experiences. This is all building up to an excuse for why we only got one photo from our ride on Mount Spokane. We were too busy doing to take time to document it. Trails like this are experienced best as a whole, like a concept album. Rock on. (And take more pictures next time )

We parked one car at the top and dropped down trail 130, which drops down pretty steeply, dropping over roots and erosion-prevention devices. Approaching the first one of these erosion fences, I thought it was made of steel or hard rubber. Luckily, it is a flexible material, and doesn’t hamper the downward good times. I exorcised my demons on the top section, almost going off the ranch on one of the turns, and going slower than normal. Further down the hill, with all cylinders going, we rode trail 110 and made our way over to Smith Gap, where we found the aforementioned Jedi Trees trail. Along the way, Dig’s RaceFace seat post bolt sheared off, leaving him to stand for the rest of the descent. The final run-out along trail 115 was a carving, flowing thing through the trees and down to the road where our shuttle car waited.

We rode Mount Spokane on my last day in town, and my only regret was that because I had a flight to that evening, we couldn’t fit in another run. If you go, don’t be intimidated by the steep slopes atop Mount Spokane, just use The Force and flow. It’s a long, fun ride to the bottom. Make  sure to make time for ice cream.

© Big Mountain Riding
Planning your ride:

Beacon Hill Recreation Area maps are available for $8 from North Division Bike and Ski, Bicycle Butler, Bike Hub, Wheel Sport East and Mountain Gear, sales of the map are a fundraiser for the group that maintains these fun trails – fttrc.org Boulder Beach trail head: Park at the Boulder Beach pull out, on Upriver Drive, 1.25 miles w. of Argonne Road. Cross the road carefully and take your pick of the trails. For DH, head west and look for the fireroad that you can walk your bike up. For XC, head east and then look for trails heading to the left as you get close to the end of the property. Camp Sekani trail head - This entrance is on the N. side of Upriver Drive, just W. of Boulder Beach

Mount Spokane State Park – Trails on the official map are documented by numbers, and these maps are posted at some trail intersections. It behooves the downhill rider to select the right trail to avoid climbing back up even part of the hill. Ffrom Spokane: Drive north on Hwy. 2 to Hwy. 206. Follow Hwy. 206 for 15 miles to park entrance. Address: N. 26107 Mt. Spokane Park Dr., Mead, WA 99021

Riverside State Park - A map put together by the Backcountry Horsemen is available at Spokane’s REI or Northwest Maps for $5.95. Multiple trail heads including Carlson Rd., Mclellan Rd. 7 Mile Trailhead, Wilbur Rd near the Plese Flats Day Use Area, at the Bowl and Pitcher Trailhead and off of Government Way.

The Remedy eggs you to take the rough route home

Cruising Moab’s main drag for the first time, my brother and I dug all the signs of this vibrant culture we had joined: the Moab Cyclery safari truck with mounts for 20 bikes, the Gonzo Inn, the Poison Spider Bikes mural. One of our favorites was a campground that boasted: Fun Pigs stay at Slickrock. The Trek Remedy 8 is made for those self-same fun pigs. It is a bike that eggs on its rider and will feed your porcine speed-needs until you find yourself hours later, still pushing personal limits and stuttering gibberish like that laughable Looney Tunes porker.

It takes craft to make something that rides like such cheap fun, and this is a well-made all-mountain rig. Trek redesigned the Remedy with matched 150MM (6″) of quality Fox travel front and back, and it rips along the trail. Although it seemed a bit portly on the climbs, I rode a Large frame (not the XL that Trek recommends for my height), and the Remedy is spec’d with a wide, low-rise bar. I think a bit more of a rise on the bars and the correct size frame would make the bike climb better for me. As it was, I felt too low for really efficient climbing – especially in my knees and hands.  The suspension and geometry did not seem to be the culprits in this climbing conundrum.

Yet who are we kidding here, with all this talk about climbing? A bike like this pays its way at high speeds and on the descents. Know that aboard the Remedy you will not have to walk up too many hills, and when you get to the top, you can expect a stable, velvety ride during the gravity-fed madness that awaits.

The Fox Float RP-2 with DRCV shines on the Remedy

Riding the Remedy at Bedford Co’s Falling Creek Park, I instinctively veered toward the rough lines, and flowed over natural obstacles instead of following the path more traveled that swung around them. Indeed, the bike and I both wanted more challenges, although I did not test the Remedy on any drops higher than a couple of feet.

In Big Mountain Riding Review #6, I highlighted Trek’s proprietary Fox Float’s with DRCV. The extra-volume shock shines on the Remedy 8 too, making the back-end feel bottomless during aggressive trail riding over roots, rocks and features. Although I did not drop it off anything of size, the bike’s suspension, solidness and geometry feel like it would handle easily drops of 3-5 feet (0.9 -1.5 M). That’s more than enough for me – as drops above 3-feet make me grow increasingly attached to my front teeth (and to keeping them intact).

Other spec highlights that shone on the $3,700 Remedy 8:
Fox 32 Talas RL fork

Avid Elixir R Carbon disc brakes with 203 MM rotors

The Remedy 8 wears its brawn well, tipping the scales at under 30 pounds (13.6 KG) and rumor has it that a few upgrades can trim off a couple more pounds without removing muscle. Today’s efficient suspension and light weight materials enable all-mountain riding, and when pulled together in bikes like this, they inspire fun pigs everywhere to point their front wheel toward the big mountains and ride a little farther. Go for it; nobody would understand your gibberish back in civilization anyway, Porky.

© Big Mountain Riding

Fun Pigs will find much to like in the Remedy's smooth travel and light weight

Trek Fuel EX = A Rico Suave All-Around Bike

Reviewer: Randy King

Photos: Scott Schekman & Randy King

The Trek Fuel EX 9.9 is an inspiring all-around bike, great for big mountain riding: it is fast, light weight and cheeky. The top of the Fuel line model is a sort of James Bond super agent of bikes. Yes, some other bikes can run, jump and fight as well, and yet others share its dark good looks. However, the Fuel EX 9.9 does both at the same time, making its rider look as good and as competent merely by association.

The Trek Fuel EX 9.9 rides like a dream - a very, very expensive dream

The demo bike I tested was dressed to kill, decked out with the best offerings from SRAM, Fox, Shimano and others. The parts worked together well, carrying the bike smoothly and nimbly over the rough roots and short, tight steeps of Bedford, VA’s Falling Creek Park. The all-carbon frame, crank and bar rode like a dream of all that carbon is hyped up to be.

Riding the XL-sized frame put me in a little more stretched out versus upright riding position. I liked this because I felt more actively engaged with the bike – not perched on top of it. I found myself pedaling faster and pushing the bike through turns. Interestingly, the riding position also seemed to keep me seated more, even through small rough patches.

However, I think most of the Fuel EX’s buttery smoothness flows right from the Fox suspension. Specifically, Trek’s proprietary Fox RP-23 design, with DRCV (Dual Rate Control Valve). According to Trek, the twin-chambered shock is designed to eliminate the ramp-up at the end of the shock’s travel without adding the weight of an external chamber, meaning a smoother ride over varied terrain. The shock acts like a normal RP-23, until a bigger hit. Then the compression opens the valve into the second section of the chamber – the little extra bit visible on the top of the shock in the pictures – and the bump is eaten up at the same compression rate. In theory, it should feel more like the linear compression of a coil spring, but with air shock weight. “Right on,” I say. The DRCV shock performed beautifully.

This is a high-speed machine that would handle many challenges with aplomb. It weighs just 25-pounds (11.34KG) in its carbon suit. The aluminum versions reputedly weigh in at only a pound (454G) more for the frame. That’s light, and it feels even lighter. Still, the 5-inches (120MM) of travel are meant for going places off the beaten path, and the Fuel EX does this with the bold cheek of a much burlier bike. You could race this bike; you could ride it all day, every day.

So what’s the bad news? Well it has to do with all those little green pieces of paper. Specifically, the more than 6,700 of them it takes to buy the Trek Fuel EX 9.9. That’s a lot of money for something stamped “Made in Wisconsin.” That’s a lot of money period.

Still, if you ride it, you’ll probably want this bike. I did. And you know what? I’m not gonna try to convince you that you can’t rationalize the purchase. Everybody has dreams. Why not a glam, all-carbon, $6,700 one from Wisconsin?

©Big Mountain Riding

The DRCV shock, carbon crankset and the EVO pivot

A long-legged big wheeler

One of the things I’ve always wondered as a potential convert to 29″ wheels is how they would handle the big hits, and no bike on the broad market seemed set up to really put that question to the test. With travel in the 3-4″ range at tops, most 29er bikes seemed like leggy cross-country runners best left out of the the really rough stuff (e.g. low-speed drops and aggro rock gardens).

Enter the Niner W.F.O. 9, with 5.5″ of rear travel. Trivia: W.F.O. stands for Wide, Full Open. Sounds like an ideal big mountain riding rig in the making. Depending on how it is set up, the rig should ride like a long travel trail rider or short-legged DH rig – can anyone say all-mountain?  I highlight it here because I think it indicates a new horizon in big wheel bikes: long-travel! The next few years should bring some exciting new entries that will be prime candidates for big mountain riding.

The W.F.O. 9 is in stores now! “There will be two different versions of the frame. One will be a 135mm rear triangle and come with a FOX RP23 shock and retail for $1899. The other will feature a 150mm rear triangle (with a maxle thru axle system) and come with a FOX DHX Air 5.0 and retail for $2099. [This second option makes for a beefier ride]” – Niner Bikes. Learn more.

Looking forward to the first rides on real trails by real people.

Photos here are from two different set-ups from Niner folks. It looks like they put together a DH-market version. Before you envy that Manitou Dorado fork too much, be aware it will set you back more than $2k by its lonesome … sure is pretty, though.

Niner WFO 9 online.

©Big Mountain Riding

Bigger is better? WFO 9 customized for big hits

Rear set-up for tamer, production model

Edging the slope on the Southern Traverse - copyright Shenandoah Mountain Touring

Story: from IMBA

Take a ride into history on the Southern Traverse Epic located in Virginia’s George Washington National Forest.

The rigors of boot camp may be the best preparation. With 3,000 feet of climbing over 32 epic miles, this ride promises to test your courage and endurance. The backbone of the Southern Traverse is the south end of the Shenandoah Mountain Trail, a 11-mile singletrack ridge-ride. The ridge is accessed by a doubletrack climb that ascends 1,800 feet through a picturesque hardwood hollow. The snaking trail follows the ridge south and is an amazing melody of smooth and fast downhills and technical rock gardens.

Ride the Southern Traverse from north to south to enjoy the sweetest of singletrack descents, and don’t forget to make arrangements with Shenandoah Mountain Touring to meet you at the end and shuttle you back to town for a draught of Wild Goose at Calhoun’s.

Location: The Southern Traverse is located southwest of Harrisonburg, Virginia, in the George Washington National Forest.

Length: 32 miles

Elevation: 1,600 to 3,800 ft

Climbing: 3,000 ft

Terrain: This ride has it all; twisty, smooth, steep, narrow, rough, mossy

Season: Open year round, occasional snow in winter, unpredictable mountain weather

Highlight: Shenandoah Mountain Trail, a 17-mile singletrack ridge-ride

Directions to Trailhead & Detailed Ride Instructions

Shop: Shenandoah Bicycle Company, Harrisonburg, 540-437-9000

Brew: Calhoun’s Restaurant and Brewing Company

Coffee: The Artful Dodger

Learn more about the International Mountain Bike Association at www.imba.com