Sycamore Canyon 2009/1/1/ - First SDMBA/NMBP Patrol

So, the DirtTreaders were riding on New Years day. And not only were they riding on New Years Day, but at 9am. That meant, at least for me, an early night on New Years Eve. I know myself. I know that it will take me an inordinant amount of time to get ready and get out of the house. I know that once I get to the ride site that it will take me a good amount of time to get everything organized since I bring the kitchen sink with me on a ride.

Clothes are no problem, since I have my riding clothes anal-retentively organized into sacks. It makes it very easy to just grab a bag and go since each one already contains everything I need to wear. On top of that, there's the helmet cam to set up. Then there's the still cam to hook up to the camelbak. Then there's the iPod and headphones. Then there's the elbow and knee & shin guards, heart rate monitor with chest strap... The wheel needs to be put on the front of the bike... You get the picture.

I decided it was a good time to put the SDMBA/NMBP into action with the first patrol activity ever. So, I left at 7:45am for the ride. The drive out of Leucadia was a bit sketchy with deep pockets of fog all along the freeway. It wasn't until I got south of the hump at Del Mar Heights that it started to clear up, and by the time I made over Mission Trails Summit it was bright and sunny.

I arrived with about 40 minutes to spare, got myself together and by the time the ride was ready to depart, I was just putting on my helmet. :)

There were 13 riders in total, which is a pretty big group to manage. I had an interesting observation resulting from seeing another rider, Rob, with a brown Mojo SL with red linkages. I haven't seen too many Mojo SLs, or for that matter, Mojos at all here in San Diego. Rob had added a few nice upgrades from my ride, with a Talas fork over the RLC and some very nice wheels. The observation I had was how funny it is that a bike can create a connection between two people that I didn't experience with anyone else. It's almost that, at a minimum, the brand of a bike someone owns, but even more so, the brand and model can generate a bond between riders that riding itself doesn't necessarily do. The Specialized people recognize each other and the Trek people have something to chat about. And I've seen how the the river of component difference slakes single-speeders off from geard bikers on a group ride. Anyway, the group took off before I was quite ready to ride, but I jammed on it, and with some effort caught up with the leaders of the group within 2km from the car. Oops, I forgot to lube my chain. I was hoping that it would have had enough from the last ride at Palm Canyon. (It turned out OK. It was only at the end, after going through a bunch of mud, that the chain had any issues.)

Almost immediately after the ride started four riders were missing. At the first regrouping, we learned that one rider was waiting at the parking lot for someone who was late arriving. The two of themadded to the other two who zigged while at the front of the group while the leader and remainder of the group zagged. It wasn't long before we were all herded together, and off we rolled. Our ride organizer demonstrated a new route which took us up a very scenic stream bed. With many crossings, I'd be amazed if anyone had dry feet. When we got to the bottom of the first serious climb, we regrouped. This took much longer than the first regrouping, but we good naturedly stood around talking and enjoying the beauty that was surrounding us.

After climbing the hill which was soggy, loose and off cambre the whole way up, we regrouped again, this one taking much longer. We then made our way down a road, until a well hidden singletrack presented itself to our guide and we were soon zipping our way downward on a cobble-lined ribbon. The downhill was fun but a bit bumpy. Our guide and another rider were out in front. I was trailing a bit further behind, the remainder of the other riders staggered well behind me.

After some technical drops and slides that proved to be too much for the vast majority of us, resulting in muddy shoes as we hopped and slid our way down, we regrouped again, and then continued on our way toward the switchbacks climb and descent. At the break-off for the western switchbacks, we waited again for the group to catch up. At least one rider decided at this point to head around to the spot where the eastern switchbacks rejoin the main trail. The rest of us proceeded at various speeds to climb the western switchbacks. Rob, the racer, was the first to make it to the top. I was in hot pursuit, but once again, I've proven to myself that I don't need to pay money to find out that there are some people faster than me and some people slower. At the top I grabbed the camera and snapped pictures of everyone as they crested the ridge.

I made my way down the eastern switchbacks behind Steven and Rob. When I got to the bottom I looked up and it was an inspiring scene as so many riders were descending the switchbacks at once. I thought to myself that it would be quite a site to see so many riders with lights at night.

We regrouped with the riders who had avoided the climb and waited for everyone to get to the bottom of the eastern switchbacks.  Then, off we went, riding on the east side of the creekbed. At some point I managed to get out in front and rather than take my usual trail toward the gate at Goodan Ranch, I swooped in on another track and was so completely overjoyed. Fast, swervy singletrack that tested and encouraged good turning skills. There were a few stream crossings too.

We regrouped again at the gate, and then hit the double track leading up to the ranch house and then continued on the singletrack that runs to the west depositing us at the 4-corners of the main road. Several of us headed up "Cardiac" so that we could ride the downhill on the backside of Martha's Grove while the majority headed up the more direct route that doesn't have any payoff other than getting you to Martha's Grove trail faster.

We agreed to meet at the start of Martha's Grove Trail, but when our little group of four riders got there after a fast and fun downhill, no one was waiting. We didn't think that there was any chance we could have reached the gate before the other riders, but we waited a few minutes anyway. A family with small children took off hiking up the trail and then another large group of riders that was resting at the gate took off. Rather than have the hikers make way for two separate groups of riders, we followed on the tail of the other group. Once at the top of the first climb, we encountered two of the other riders in our group who informed us that the rest had gone on ahead. We continued the ride down Martha's Grove Trail and rode without stops, except for a brief moment at the gate at the south side of Goodan Ranch.

We hit the high trail on the west side of the creek, but there were a few spots where trees had fallen onto the trail. None of us had more than a nail file and the trees were too big to move by hand, so we climbed over the obstacles (none of us being trials riders), and continued on our way. By this point my legs were starting to cramp, probably as a result of the New Year's Eve drinking I did. By the time we made it back to the parking lot, my legs had cramped so bad that there was a stretch where I needed to walk because I couldn't power through the pedal stroke.

Once back at the parking lot, bikes and gear was quickly stowed and people departed for points unknown. Our two-and-a-half-hour ride had taken almost 4.5 hours and covered over 38km.

2008-09-11 Peñasquitos ride with Andreas

Andreas, or Andy as he goes by now, and I met many years ago as Scuba Divers. I was just starting out in diving and so was he. We dove together several times at La Jolla Shores and probably a few other places too. One zig for me and one zag for him, and it was like going swimming on opposite sides of a big kelp plant in coastal waters--you'll never find each other again. So, we fell out of touch for several years, mutually forgotten, until, that is, he pulled up behind me at Joe Lawwill's BikeSkills clinic. We saw each other again on the Indian Creek Trail while I was on the Mt. Laguna Great Outdoors camping trip. I was riding by myself, but had hooked up with a good rider, and he was riding with the DirtTreaders.Com group. After some mishaps with email, I was finally able to get registered at DirtTreaders.com and that's where I saw the info about the Peñasquitos after work ride.

I decided that instead of commuting on my road bike between home and work, I would instead drive to work, bringing my MtB and ride with him at Peñasquitos in the evening. After all, I have been saying that given the opportunity to ride for pleasure, I'd take a MtB any day over riding on the road.

We met at the agreed upon location and we were actually on the trail no more than a minute later than our 5:30 departure time. We rode to Wagon Wheel Crossing, crossed the creek and continued on the road until the first climb. Since I was in the lead, I took control of the route and headed up the hill. It's not an easy climb and Andreas' heavier bike and lower endurance level showed, but he made it to the top. He did comment though that he hated climbing. As we rode on, I asked him whether he wanted to go up further or down. He chose down. What I had failed to mention was that the uphill was about 30 feet and would have left us on top of the mesa, whereas going down meant that we had another longish climb to get back up to the same elevation.

That said, the downhill was fun. Once we got back to the main east-west trail, we continued until we hit Powerline and headed up to the mesa. From there, Andreas asked me if I wanted to do "Rocking Horse". Not knowing realizing that the name "Rocking Horse" was the tunnel trail that had an old rocking horse at the top of it. So, we zipped down. Andreas, far more familiar with the ride than I was faster on the downhill through all the twisted and slanting trees. I still get a little freaked out by how close I must be coming to hitting the handlebar on a tree. There were points, however, where I really felt like I was one with the bike and the trail and the trees and I was zipping through, keeping up with Andreas, and probably pushing him a bit.

We did a couple of loops through Tunnels and then headed back. By the time we got to the top of Shits, it was time to put on the lights. After a long fiddling around with putting the light mount onto the helmet, I realize how much faster it is to mount my light because I leave the mount on the helmet all the time.

We zipped through Shits and back to the car. I tried to do the jumps, but wasn't feeling positive about my skills so I didn't hit the launch with enough force and just rolled over the top. Maybe I'll take a class out in Moab on jumping...

All in all, a nice ride. I would probably have finished the ride faster than we did, but Andreas is a good strong rider who is only going to get better. With only 7 months of riding under his belt, he's very proficient. I hope we ride together more often.

San Clemente Singletrack 2008-09-07

I had spread the word wide that there was to be a group ride at The San Clemente Singletracks, complete with carpooling and a lunch at a brewery/pizzaria near the ride site. SDMTB, Dirt Treaders and Gay Outdoors along with several friends all got messaged. With this much coverage, I expected that I wasn't going to be riding alone. Rodney RSVP'd from SDMTB, Jake and Chris from Gay Outdoors and "Danimal" from Dirt Treaders along with two friends.

I had set up a couple of car pooling sites along the way. The first was at the La Costa Park & Ride near my house. I got there, but no one had RSVP'd that they were going to meet there, so, it was more just an exercise to see if someone would show up. At exactly 7am, I departed for the Oceanside train station where I was going to meet Rodney and "Danimal" and the two friends. As I was driving north I got a text from "Danimal" saying that there was some feelings of ill and a over abundance of training and work and that there would be no "Danimal" on the trails with us today. I guess the two friends couldn't ride if "Danimal" couldn't ride. But I was still expecting Jake, Chris and Rodney.

I sat at the train station, waiting, and when it got to be about 7:20 and no one was there, I started to think I'd be riding by myself after all. I called Rodney first, and he said he was just in a different parking lot from the directions I had emailed him, and he'd be right over. Jake sounded half asleep when I called, but told me he was planning on meeting us at the trail head. So, Rodney and I took off at 7:30 as scheduled, and headed north to San Clemente.

The ride was filled with new acquaintance communications of what and where and when. As a result, it seemed like we were in San Clemente in short order and navigating the back roads to get to a place I'd never been to before. Jake called for directions to the trail head which I read from my PPC. A soupy marine layer was shrouding our surroundings in a gray, moist cloud. It was too late to turn into the parking lot by the time I noticed the sign. I drove past the entrance to the parking lot did a loop at the end of the median and we were quickly parked and getting the bikes off the rack and oiling chains.

My phone rang and I answered it to hear Jake explain how he had left his shoes at home and would be back in 40 minutes (putting our ride about 20 minutes past schedule). Rodney and I agreed to wait. We checked out the kids riding Razors in the skate park, doing all sorts of cool tricks. We cleaned our bikes. We fiddled and focused on passing the time with activities instead of conversation. Jake and Chris finally arrived, a bit later than they said, but we could go on our ride so I was excited.


The Ride:

Elevation Profile

We started off the ride by stopping and chatting with someone who was just finishing his ride. After lamenting the loss of the secret status the trails had apparently held for the past 20 years, he gave us a quick idea of the layout of the park and a direction to head, even drawing a map in the dirt. Following what I remembered of his map, we zipped along on a fire road until spotting what I assumed was the singletrack he had mentioned. We veered left, grabbing the singletrack and immediately had to pull over because other cyclists were coming in the opposite direction. After they passed, we continued on our way, zipping through some really nice singletrack, over a bridge, through some gullies, and finally being redeposited onto the fire road we had started on, just further west. We rode the fire road down the hill until spotting another singletrack. I slowed to make sure everyone was still with me, then jetted down the singletrack. It was fun and fast, but not terribly challenging or scenic.

Along the way I got to watch someone recover, somewhat gracefully, from an endo. We both made it to a wash at the same moment. The wash had a nearly vertical slope requiring attention. Unfortunately, the other rider looked up, expecting to see me descending, but I stopped before entering. As usual, those moments in Mountain Biking that requires our attention and don't get it, are the moments where we discover more slapstick. Fortunately, the rider was unharmed; but we came to learn that this group saw the posting and could have come on the ride with us but chose to ride on their own.

After riding "No Turns" which was mostly a sandy trail at the bottom of the park, we ended up at a road and gate to the military base.

We took a trail we spotted in a wide graded area. Upon arriving at the top of this little climb, Jake was feeling the effects of youth and unfortunately succumbed to a headache and hamstring issues. He and Chris decided that they were going back via the road while Rodney and I headed down some singletrack that took us up a hill we both kept thinking must be primarily used in the opposite direction. We continued on this trail until it spit us out at the spot where we had originall stopped to ask for directions.

Rodney was a good climber with many years of experience on his cleats, and the sound of the bear bell clanging away right on his back tire made short order of the hill and we figured that we had probably made it up before Chris and Jake would be up. So, we decided to drop down the road and meet up with them. I knew about 100m in that there was no way we were going to see them, but I kept going until we got to the bottom of the hill and then turned around and went back. It was just to grab a bit more hill climbing on my part, but Rodney wasn't far behind.

When we made it back to the car, there was Jake and Chris sitting on the sidewalk, stretching and searching for some sort of headache relief. Of course, I had something in my first aid kit, so even though I was ridiculed as usual for having so much stuff in my pack, it sure was helpful. :)

After putting everything away and changing my clothes, we all headed off to Pizza Port in San Clemente for pizza and beer. We got a nice pitcher of Shark Bite Ale and a yummy pesto/artichoke heart/feta pizza. (The rest of them had it with small hunks of chicken flesh that they appeared to enjoy.)

We sat and talked about bikes and this and that until the mood struck us to depart. Rodney and I bid Chris and Jake a safe return, started down the interstate.

It was a nice day with non-technical singletrack and some nice well packed trails.

1/September/2008 - Good Intentions, Good Motivations, Bad Luck.

Everything was all ready for a ride at Sycamore Canyon. The bike was on the roof, the clothes were packed, the camelbak filled with water and tools and snacks. All I needed to do was put on some street clothes, grab my keys and hit the road.

This was a Dirt Treader's organized group ride that was scheduled to leave at 8. Since I didn't know the group, I wanted to be early to put the last minute touches on the video camera and personal music, and this and that. I didn't want to be the limiting factor in the group's departure. Amazingly enough, I was heading out the door at 7am ready to jump in the car and make the 25 minute commute to the trail head. As I exited the house I noticed that a spoke on my month old XTR rear wheel was broken with just a 10cm stub sticking out of the rim. I figured I could still ride it, and then I'd stop in at a bike shop and grab a few spokes.

As I drove down the street, I heard a slap, slap, slap sound coming from the rear passenger side. It sounded like I had a flat tire, but it didn't feel like it. I pulled over, got out and looked at the car tire which wasn't flat at all, but there was a screw embedded deeply into the tire. With a 3/4 cm head, I'll assume that the screw itself was probably quite long. So, there went the possibility of the group ride, at least for me.

I took the car to the tire dealer. Fortunately, the one I wanted to take it to was open. The guy said it would take about an hour. So, I grabbed a book and headed to the coffee shop in the building across the parking lot. After an hour, I headed back. As I rounded the corner the guy waved at me like he'd been looking for me all over the place and asked me where the special lug nut bit was to remove the locking lug nut. It hadn't dawned on either of us that the mechanic would need this. The office manager said he went to the coffee shop but didn't see me (I was sitting at the table right next to the door). Anyway, excuse me for thinking that threre is a reason these guys are changing tires. To me, the most logical place to keep the lug nut bit is in the tool bag that hold the lug nut wrench, jack, etc. I've asked several other people and they all say that's where they keep theirs. So, the hour turned into an hour and three-quarters. At least they don't charge for the service. (I guess they figure I'll go back there when I need new tires.)

At this point I figured I'd just go and get my spoke. I drove down to San Diego to Cal Coast Bicycles (along with a price-match for some new 26x2.35 UST tires). I bought 3 drive side and 3 left side or front spokes. At $8 each, it was a bit expensive. And, to top it all of, they didn't have a crucial part: the hub nuts (little flanged threaded nuts that the hub side of the spoke threads into.) These tiny little things apparently get lost when the spoke breaks.) At first I thought Black Mountain Bicycles would be a good place to go--they tend to have parts and sell high-end bikes. But, it was Labor Day, and Black Mountain Bicycles was closed. Leucadia Cyclery was closed. REI didn't have the part. B&L in Solana Beach doesn't carry any MtB parts. By the time I'd been to all these places, I didn't have time to check Amazon Bikes or Mountain Bike Wherehouse up in Oceanside. I am pretty certain that I don't need to check at Performance Bicycles as they seem to only carry lower-end mass-market items, so the chance of them having an obscure XTR part is pretty slim.

So, Labor Day riding was a blow-out for me which really sucks. Now, I'm back to riding on the road until the weekend.