Why Autumn Riding is Still the Best
This never gets old. Unfortunately it will end far too soon. I guess that can be said about a lot of things, but this is autumn riding on the dirt trails. Things up here have changed a lot over the years - but then there have been too many years to remember. There was a day when barely an "improved" trail could be found, with any length to connect a respectable mountain bike ride. There for a couple years, my better half and I would go up into North Fork after they'd close the gates. Typically in the evening before it would get dark, however we did venture out with the lights a few times. That was always an adventure. Once Mules Ear was kind of finished, I would ride my old full sus 26" up and around the top - often having to negotiate passage with a few territorial moose. Now days there are miles of professionally built MTB trails, that provide a wide variety of options. I still prefer Mules Ear, going all the way up to the dead-end overlook, before sweeping down and climbing back over the newer trail - "Moose Tracks". From my garage up and around the entire loop is roughly 10.6 miles, with about 1,800 feet of climbing. There are some evenings when this can get a little busy, but by the first part of September, it can be done with few if any site of other riders. The cool evening air, even on the warmest autumn day, is absolutely amazing. Most of the time, I will make it back to the garage just before dark, with a solid 90+ minutes rolling on the big wheels. Try to put a price on that.....
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| Near what used to be the "OLD" Artesian Park at Pine View |
Voices from the past
In my lifetime I have seen Pine View drained twice before this most recent endeavor. The first was in the Autumn of 1970 and again in 1992. In '70, my oldest brother was fire fighter for the US Forest Service. Back in those days, I spent a ton of time in the upper valley and knew Pine View as well as my own neighborhood - or so it seemed. We had come up to the area to wander around the drained reservoir, hearing the stories from my grandmother about how the Bamberger train line ran up the canyon to the Artesian Park. It was quite a place, as she had described it. A little farther to the west, in an area still surrounded by water (at the moment) was a collection structure much like a cistern, in which numerous wells were piped directly into an opening. You can see the structure from the edge of the water, but can't get close enough to really see how it works. I think in '70 they drained it down far enough to get right out to it - through the mud. A lot of curious people out wandering about the bottoms, finding old remains of buildings and roadways - most of which have long lost their stories. While I was out there on the hardtail, those memories were a long ways away in my own mind. But in the evening, when it is quiet, I can see with vivid recollection, the image my grandmother may have described about a time early on in her life, of what she experienced. Those dark cool autumn nights, only three channels on the TV and left to our own imaginations - I could only image the voices of the past that I was never there to hear myself. I've lived in this valley for 40 years and barely recognize the place anymore. Statistically , it is likely I'll never see the bottom of that reservoir again. Now days, people moving into this valley (The Valley) complain about it's name having any association with Ogden. They have no idea the history behind all of this. Damn do-gooders anyway. Things always change, it is a constant. The "cowboy mayor" and the riffraff gangsters...... those voices are only in my imagination anymore.
Three Weeks Gone.....
This past Saturday was three weeks since LOTOJA. I've kind of hit a slump in several areas. I got to be thinking about what three weeks before LOTOJA looked like - and it wasn't pretty. That was the Cache Century out of Richmond. I never really wrote about it, other than it was not good. The first support area stop was in Preston Idaho - like pretty much every year for the past 20. I took a pretty good beating going up and over through Cove, but managed to catch a group at Franklin. Heading out toward Fair View, I ended up out on front taking a pull that cost me a lot of energy. When I dropped back to catch the backend, I got dropped - hard. Those small extended elevation increases going into Preston crushed my confidence completely. Knowing that we had an extended climb up Weston Canyon, I completely lost all confidence. After rolling into Preston Park, I watched as groups came and went, convinced I would be humiliated beyond repair. After only a few minutes I made the decision to go east back to the highway, rather than go west with the groups. Once on the highway, I was driving hard to get back to Richmond - a road I have seen countless times before coming from the other direction on the morning roll-out in LOTOJA. It was totally in my mind as if it would be the only time I would see this stretch of highway this year, or if somehow, I could put together a program and save the year. Six weeks now gone, and having LOTOJA in the books, it is hard to remember how deep that hole appeared to be, or how dark my mind had become leading into that moment. And now, dealing with a slump of different sorts, I'm remembering to not let a single event get into my head and work through the low parts of a great season. Push on...........
One of the Greats
A few months ago, Rick did an interview with Billy Joel. Toward the end, he asked what he thought the best song ever written was (from a writes perspective). His reply; Wichita Lineman by Jimmy Webb. Funny thing, I've heard this from other performers and writers. Glen Campbell released it in late '68, with enough traction to pull into the early 70's. The opening base line is by none other than Carol Kaye - from Campbell's time in "The Wrecking Crew". For me it elicits subtle memories of hearing this on AM radio and seeing it on the "Glenn Campbell Good Time Hour". There are certain things I want to remember - my way.
Ride HARD!
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