You Just Don't See This Every Day (or "The Breathing Dragon")

I think my words to Jim were"you never would have had that 'coon dog adventure if you were sitting home on the couch." How prophetic. Except this time it wasn't being hunted by 'coon dogs. It was...

...spelunking up the 430' outlet pipe of the Marsh Creek dam. Why (you may ask) would someone spelunk up the outlet pipe? Well for safety reasons of course - to be sure it is safe to ride downstream as a water slide!

The story starts with a typical night ride, out the lakeside trail to the New Bonus Loop. It was about 8:15pm when we reached the dam and saw a couple of guys fussing around on the spillway riser. We figured they were bikers so we slowed down to make sure they weren't having some sort of mechanical. It then became apparent they were not bikers (remember it was dark with this point) as there were no bikes, there was a large duffle, and there was a LOT of rope on the ground. Oh, and a couple of empty Hop Devils.

They explicitly asked we not use their real names so we will call them Ben and Jerry (Mike knows that's my traditional after-ride snack). Ben explained they were planning to ride through the outlet pipe, like a water slide, but first needed to recon the pipe to be sure there were no abrupt turns, protruding metal fittings, or underwater traps along the way. They had already run a lightweight fishing line through the pipe and measured the distance at 430'. And they were now busy feeding about 500' of climbing rope down that same pipe, with the intent of climbing up from the other end using the rope to assist.

We marveled at their safety consciousness and good taste in beer, and then told them we would be back after finishing our Bonus Loop ride. And so we rode the Bonus Loop - which was seemingly endless and most excellent at night I must say. Within 45 minutes we found ourselves crossing the dam on our return leg, hoping for the best.

When we arrived there was nothing to be found at the riser. No duffle bag. No piles of rope. No Hop Devils. But a rope was tied to the railing of the riser, and it ran down through the spillway and disappeared with the rushing water deep into the bowels of the dam. I tugged on the rope and it was taught. Very taught. We briefly considered the implications of untying the rope, but that's not how we roll (but it was funny to think about).

Ok, so clearly we had to hoof it down the bottom of the dam to see what was at the other end of the rope. When we got there, we could hear Ben and Jerry yukking it up inside the pipe. They were probably 20' in, just getting their bearings, taking some photos, putting on wet suits, and strapping into their climbing gear. Ben came out for a final photo, said good bye, and in he went. The yukking it up continued for a good while, but soon started to sound more distant. So we climbed back to the top of the dam and over to the riser. And to our surprise we soon saw a faint light shining inside the riser. Ben had made it!

Within a few short minutes Ben emerged into the bottom of the riser, whooping it up pretty good. Jerry had taken the easy route (our route) and took some pictures of Ben in the riser, Ben on the riser, Ben posing with us, and Ben and Jerry together.

High fives all around.

But this was apparently just the beginning. Remember, this was just the recon mission to setup for THE BIG SHOW - a high speed water slide attempt! Alas the attempt would not be tonight because apparently it will require a considerable amount of additional gear:

• Body armor
• Full face helmet
• Welding gloves
• Hiking boots
• Athletic cup
• Butt protector of some sort TBD

We chatted a little about water slides, mountain biking, wished them luck, and were on our way. I'm not quite sure how to sum this up. I mean I think we've done some crazy things - mountain bike fire jumping, kayaking the brandywine at flood stage, more fire jumping, and sending Mike across the tram - but this was off the charts by our standards. Just glad it worked out (I gave it 15% chance of having a really bad outcome). And thrilled we were out riding and had the good fortune to stumble into this most unique spectacle.

Now I can't guarantee one of these on every night ride, but I can guarantee your not going to see anything like this sitting on the couch at home!

Chris

"Go big or go home"

-- unknown

Have You Forgotten?

Have you ever forgotten how much fun this is? I mean, it's never not fun but you get into a groove with your riding routine - riding the same bike, or the same trails, or both for couple of months - and you lose that pinch-me-I-must-be-dreaming-because-this-is-too-much-fun feeling that you got all the time when you first started riding a bicycle in the woods.

Well today Andy may have felt like puking, and he may have blown his front fork in the process, but he took us on one sick tour of French Creek State Park....if it wasn't some gnarly root infested lung-buster climb, it was a white-knuckle-rock-garden descent where I was well outside my capabilities but it was too-late-to-bail-so-buckle-your-chin-strap-and-hang-on. In the zone kinda stuff.

Oh and there were some sweet stretches of buff single track in between. But mostly ups that had us gasping, and downs that had us whooping and hollering like in the old days.

Special props to AD who rode the single-speed all-rigid like it was [insert high school prom date joke here]. He pretty much owned the park except for one death-cookie early in the ride which left him wide eyed and a little bloody.

TP also shared his trick for getting the last minute clearance for weekend rides of this sort...you float it past the wife at about 5:45am. It pretty much guarantees a green light.

Great ride, miles of smiles, thanks guys...

Get Off

This is an all points bulletin for a Raystown Lake bike trip this fall. If you don't know much about Raystown then do yourself a favor - prop your head up on a pillow and suffer through the next paragraph.

Raystown is supposed to be first-class buffed-out singletrack of the same ilk as White Clay, only more and better. Online reviewers consistently say it is like an M. C. Escher drawing - you finish where you started but somehow ride downhill the entire way. It has received rave reviews from every mountain biking magazine to which I subscribe (more that a few), and Men's Journal named it "one of the top 4 mountain bike trails in North America." It took IMBA and Army Corps of Engineers 7 years to build these trails specifically for mountain bikes - this is not a "rake and ride" operation.

The only knock I have heard against Raystown is that it is not very technical and there are no killer climbs. Seriously, ask Andy Sokol who was the first (not the last) person I heard say this. So it's all about flow and rolling. Oh, and it is more than a 12 minute drive to get there so it's probably a single overnight, but we'll sort that out once we gauge interest.

So to get things going, let's look at a couple of weekends this fall when foliage should be kicking in:

• September 25-26
• October 2-3

TBD if we would do an overnight, Friday vs Saturday, etc but what's important is that you get off the couch for this ride. It is not a sufferfest and you've got plenty of time to get rid of the rust. Google it if you have to, at least you're doing something. Then check with the wifey and email me with level of interest and preferred weekend.

Chris

"Better to wear out than to rust out"

Horse-Back-Rider-Scraper-Offer

Top of the Sole Trail, courtesy of mother nature. She dropped this oak and wedged it into the crook of another tree during the storm in June. Top notch work on her part.

I am all for multi-use trails, but it is sweet when mom makes something special, just for us.

Girls Happy Hour

I gave it a 50% chance. I was wrong.

We decided to try a happy hour ride with the girls. For Sydney it would be the second, and perhaps last, attempt. Searlait and Zoey are both accomplished bikers. We hoped the dynamics of the pack would be too much for Sydney to resist.

And we were right.

We rode the Lakeside, the Sole, and the little stretch out to the mill. She was on my rear wheel the entire time, muddy feet, and tongue wagging, diving into the lake or the creek whenever the opportunity presented itself. She finally bonked a few hundred yards from the boat landing.

I am thrilled beyond words, a new riding buddy! Never out of town on business, never stuck doing yard work. Always eager to ride!