Runnin' on Empty

We drained the tank before we even got there. Cruising west on the turnpike and the trip computer saying zero miles remaining in the gas tank. This was to be a harbinger of things to come.

We did find a gas station with about -7 miles (that's negative seven) in the tank and made it to the Allegrippis trail head around lunch time. We geared up and hit the single track agreeing we would leave it ALL on the trails. All of it.

And let me tell you, The Army Corp of Engineers and I.M.B.A. made it easy for us to drain the tanks. Many miles of sweet undulating single track on these hills surrounding Raystown Lake. They are all about flow with plenty of rollers, tabletops, and seriously bermed turns so no excuse for using the brakes.

At about mile 12 we made our second mistake of the weekend (not bad), riding Sidewinder backwards. Many of the trails are meant to be ridden in one direction (CW/CCW) and clearly we were riding this one the wrong way. And we were getting really toasted.

But somehow we managed to scrape out another 18 miles. It was just too good to call it quits. Admittedly the last five miles were pathetic but necessary to ensure the tanks were bone dry. And it gave me a lot of time to think about riding 30 miles of single track, every day for 5 days, at altitude in the Rockies, which is how I plan to celebrate my birthday next year. Thankfully even my oxygen deprived brain realized that it was the pace, not the distance, that had buried us (and maybe the single speed bikes). I still think it's the right bike for Allegrippis but we could have ridden more efficiently with gears. For the record, we logged 30 miles in 3 hours 15 minutes elapsed.

Having accomplished the primary goal of this weekend trip, we then began the hunt for a hip bar with a beer selection, great grub, and some good bike mojo. After swinging through Rothrock Outfitters to see a Big Dummy and get a rundown on this year's Dirtfest, we found ourselves in post-ride Nirvana at Boxer's Cafe:

• Hip - nice combination of mountain bikers and Penn State coeds gave it a great vibe. Cute waitress with dreds was a nice touch.
• Beer - Spaten by the half liter
• Grub - Great menu (for me it was chef's salad, mushroom and swiss burger, side of fries)
• Bike mojo - Cannondale mountain bike hanging over the bar

After solid day of riding, a monster feast, and a liter of German beer there was only one thing left to do. Head to camp, light a campfire under the stars, crack open the coolers, and finish the job. And finish it we did.

Almost. Because we were able to squeeze in one more ride Sunday morning before the long drive home. It was not a barn burner like Saturday, and it was downright painful in spots, but it sure was a fitting way to end an epic weekend. Great weekend, and I am still feeling the glow 36 hours later.

Chris

"Go Big or Go Home"

     -- Unknown

Grab Bag

Tonight would be grab bag full of surprises.

We had about 20 minutes before we would rendezvous at the lake to pickup another rider. A little overambitious we found ourselves at the top of the quarry with one minute to go before the meetup. So we dropped the hammer(s) and cracked off a stupid-fast screaming descent down to the lake where we were greeted by rider #3 and...

...an acoustic duo (upright bass, guitar) jamming at the edge of the lake. They were pretty good and were playing just for the joy of playing next to a beautiful lake under a glorious sunset. It was really breathtaking, the music drifting out over the lake, the sunset. Such a contrast to the lung-busting adrenaline rush we were enjoying mere seconds ago.

We chilled and listened for a while, thanked them, and headed off to bag a few more miles before dark. Crossing the dam we noticed three people with backpacks bushwhacking through the lower field toward the spillway outlet. Could it be "Ben and Jerry", making good on their promise to ride "the breathing dragon?" Either that, or some copy-cats making their own attempt at immortality. We made a casual descent of the Sole Trail, timing our return to hopefully witness the madness first hand. When we returned, darkness had fallen and - sure enough - we could hear voices emanating from the spillway riser. They were inside "The Dragon." We listened for a good while but eventually convinced ourselves that these were copycats with no intention of following through.

We wrapped up with a spectacular lights-out ride home under a brilliant full moon. You know, the kind of moon where you cast a shadow and frankly lights are just a buzz-kill. When I got home I fetched the Benn and Jerry's Half Baked from the freezer (as is customary) and on a whim checked by email. Imagine my reaction when I saw a message posted to the C2C message board, from "Ben" stating simply "Water Slide Tonight."

Dang, we missed it...but just the same it was a heck of a night. Where else can you get an adrenaline rush, live music under a spectacular sunset, a full moon ride, and some silly spelunking...

...on a Tuesday, in my own back yard, no cover charge. God I love this place.

Chris

The Hammer

It's good to be The Hammer. But sometimes it can be good to be The Nail.

Three of us rolled into French Creek at 7:20am this morning, and soon had 10 riders saddled up and ready to hit the trails on the east side of Route 345. This would be my first time in the area known as "The Proving Grounds" and it lived up to it's reputation by proving to me that:

1. I've been riding waaaay too much at Marsh Creek
2. I can ride some pretty sketchy stuff if I'm running in a pack and going too fast to use my better judgement
3. ...and my Turner, which I have not ridden much recently (see Marsh Creek comment), is one hell of a bike, devouring miles of gnarly rock gardens and precipitous water-bar drops

The Proving Grounds made last week's ride on the west side of the park look like a boardwalk milk-run.  It dished out a never ending series of burly rock-infested downhills and steep technical uphills that had us (or at least me) white-knuckled but grinning ear to ear. We eventually rolled back into the parking lot around 9:15.

We stayed there long enough to eat a banana, take a wiz, and bid adieu to two riders before the remainder of the group struck out for a "quick one hour cool down loop" that would last more like two hours. One more rider bought it on this loop, which left our attrition rate at 30% - still respectable given the amount of punishment that was dished out.

When we got back to the lot the second (and last) time, our driver quipped that he had just (barely) enough energy left to push the clutch the 47 times it would take to get back home.

I think this Jef Mallett cartoon sums it up pretty well.

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.