Monday, March 5, 2012

Silver Comet

The girls and I got up at a decent hour today and headed west directly. We had about 15 more miles of Silver Comet left between our last stop and the Alabama line and all day long to get it done.

We parked at the Grady Lot and we could tell right away that it was going to be a long day. Out past Rockmart, the trail diverges from the old railbed, I think mainly because that section of the rail is still in use. Just past Grady, the terrain changes abruptly from the shallow grades of a rail corridor to more typical north Georga hills and the Silver Comet rolls right over a nice set of them.

 Hilly Silver Comet

The girls both had to walk the first two and I realized that they didn't understand how to use their little rings. I tried explaining it but it didn't seem to sink in and before they had another chance to try, we were done with the hills. Just afterwards, a sign said 15.4 miles to the Alabama line. Isabel was, at that point, excited about the possibility of actually making it to Alabama during that ride and it became our goal. It was a little ambitious, but they've ridden 28 before, what's a few more?

A few miles later though, with numb fingers, Iz was backing way off of that goal. Given how warm it had been the day before, it was now surprisingly cold. Standing around, especially in the sun, it was great... probably 50-55 degrees, but it was very cloudy, thus windy, and the sun was most often hidden. Iz appears to generally have poor circulation to her fingers and toes. Sophie and I were fine. Iz also has no gloves. She's already outgrown her last pair. I didn't need my gloves, but they were way too big for her.

The solution?

The Solution!

 Glove Modifications

Duct-tape fixes everything.

Unfortunately it only helped a little. Instead of numb, her fingers became cold and painful. While that's better for you, it's way worse for how you feel.

I think, about 5 miles in, we rolled through Cedartown. The Cedartown Depot was all cute and historic.

 Cedartown Depot

The rest of Cedartown was kind of depressing though. Everything was vandalized.

 Cedartown Vandalism

That post was actually in the best shape as it still had the metal signage on it. On the others, it had been removed entirely. There broken windows on every building and dealers on the corner.

The trail through town was a little confusing too and twice Iz just kept going straight when she needed to have turned. Sophie still doesn't seem to realize that she has brakes either and the one time that Iz did make the turn, Sophie just screamed and T-boned her, in the middle of the street.

Eventually I took the lead and got us through town. We took a snack break under a bridge, out of the wind, by a little creek where, judging from the dried-up corn everywhere, people appeared to fish sometimes. Iz had been bonking hard for the past few miles and it recharged her a bit, but she wasn't "strong" by any stretch. Those first couple of hills really ate her up. More so than Sophie even.

We rode out to the next lot and turned back from there. I led through Cedartown again and we did fine until we had to wait for ten minutes on a train that was stopped in the middle of town.

 Waiting on the Train

Fortunately the sun had come out so we actually warmed up a bit while we waited. A watched pot never boils and a watched train never seems to move, but no, wait, eventually we heard a distant hum and the chain reaction of ...bang Bang BANG BANG!!! BANG Bang bang... as the engines pulled the slack out of the couplers and to our surprise, the train did, in fact, begin to move.

From there, the ride back was smooth and easy, for the most part.

Iz does have this bad habit of shifting down to climb, rolling down the back of the hill, then not shifting back up at all on the flats, assuming she'll catch up on the next hill, and then complaining if we get too far ahead. Often enough, there are road crossings too, that we could just roll through if she was close, but since she's way off the back, we have to wait, and it seems like there's always a car, waiting for us to cross while we wait for Iz. No good!

And also Sophie just really needs to learn that she has brakes. She only seems to forget when it's important though. She uses them unconsciously all the time, but then if Iz slows down in front of her she just screams and says "What do I do, what do I do?" You use your brakes. I guess it's like when people confuse their gas pedal and brakes in a car. I've never, ever, ever, ever done that and it seems inconceivable to me, but apparently people do it all the time, though only when it's very important not to. I remember that big issue with Toyota way back... "The cars accelerate uncontrollably out of nowhere!" then they pulled the black box data and in every instance the gas pedal was depressed all the way. Yeah. I always half-wondered if the whole thing was a Toyota PR stunt to show off their new black boxes, but I digress...

Eventually we got back to those same hills that crushed us early on. This time, well ahead of the first hill, I got the girls to stop and shift into their little rings. They climbed the first hill easily. Then they shifted back. For the second one, I gave them instructions as we rode and they didn't have to stop, but again, climbed the hill easily. On the third, they did it on their own. And so it was that the Muse children learned the secrets of the granny gear.

(angelic choir)

I don't believe we had to walk any of those hills, though toward the end, Sophie did seem to forget entirely that she had any gears at all. I guess some things aren't intuitive yet and she forgets them when she's under stress. Like, for example, how she forgot to look for cars as we crossed the very last road, though she'd otherwise done it perfectly all day. I always ride up and make sure well ahead of time myself, but still, come on. It's nervewracking.

Well, the ride went infinitely better than the last one, but we still didn't make it to Alabama. Kathryn will be out of town again this upcoming weekend though, so we might get it done then.

We'd stopped at a gas station just before we started the ride for some recovery fuel and we had two options:

 Snack Options

My kids love spicy food. Iz even gets acid reflux sometimes but she still loves it. We opted for the just plain Freakin Hot and saved the Really Freakin Hot for next time. It was delicious and we had fun eating it. If we get to Alabama, our reward will consist of chemical burns, indigestion... and glory.

Bear Creek

My sister-in-law just had twins, so my wife's in Baton Rouge for a couple of weeks and I've got the kids all to myself. On the one hand, it means that I can't realistically go do any 7 hour tour-de-North-Georgia's but on the other hand, it means I get to spend a lot more time with the kids and possibly force them to do 7 hour tour-de-somewheres with me. Unfortunately though, here were no 7-hour tours-de-anywhere this past Saturday.

We'd planned on doing some trail work up at Bull, but it stormed the night before and we had tornado sirens going off 'till 2 in the morning. As such, we all slept in the living room in case we had to flee to the basement. We'd have slept in the basement, if it weren't so filthy. I think we're going to have to do something about that filthy basement. Trail work after a storm sucks. Eve if the trail is dry, the soil is really heavy and we were short on sleep. We'd planned on doing two things though, and we could still do the other...

Had my wife been in town, I'd have likely been riding the Pinhoti with Karlos and Jesse and their crew of Floridian bikepackers this weekend. I wasn't able to make the trip, but I figured the kids and I could at least drive up and meet them up near Mulberry Gap when they rode through. I'd also been meaning to drive around and get some photos of some stuff up there for my trails site, the kids LOVE Mulberry, there was a better than even chance that I'd run into somebody else I know up there too... it seemed like a win in every direction.

We made a game of it. I listed a bunch of things I wanted photos of and Iz checked them off as we got the photo. The kids don't seem to like just randomly walking or driving around in the woods, but if I call something a Checkpoint or an Objective, magic significance is attached and suddenly they're all about it.

Checkpoint 1 was the Dawson Forest lot. How it is that I managed to get 15 miles of GPS data the last time I was up there, but failed to get a photo of the lot, I will never understand, though I seem to do a bit of that, so maybe I'll have an opportunity to study it again soon.

Cha-chick.

 Dawson Forest Kiosk

(That's my camera noise.)

We even got photos of the old loading dock...

 Dawson Forest Loading Dock

...and abandoned nuclear facility.

 Dawson Forest Nuclear Facility

Legend says that the whole area was owned by the Air Force (I think it was the Air Force), and during the cold war they had a test reactor up there for some reason. There are 2 sites and there was once a rail leading between them. USGS maps show all of that, but for some reason Terraserver has been down for weeks so I can't look at it now. At some point the Air Force took their ball and went home, gave up the land, and the state fenced off the potentially dangerous area, ripped up the rail and eventually converted the whole site into a trail system. Conspiracy theories and accusations of radioactive contamination abound, and more than one explorer has jumped the fence, gone poking around and posted his exploits on a forum somewhere, expecting glory, only to be told that he should run to the doctor to find out if he's been sterilized. I'm sure the truth likes somewhat south of the legends, but they're entertaining nonetheless.

Dawson Forest was sort-of on-the-way, but we didn't hang around long and afterwards made all haste to the Bear Creek Metro Area.

Our first stop was Mulberry Gap. It wasn't a checkpoint per-se, but we needed to see what was what. It was around noon and it wasn't impossible that the Florida boys were still there. Nobody was in the Dining Hall though and nobody was in the barn. Plenty of people appeared to have spent the night, but they all seemed to have been out adventuring. Andrew and Ginny were at the Snake Creek Gap TT, which is where I'd have been had there been no Pinhoti Shred and no new nieces and newphews. There was a van with a trailer and Florida plates parked near the barn but no sign of its occupants. Eventually I ran into Diane, who'd just come back from dropping them off at the start. They probably got on the trail at 11:30 or later. We had plenty of time to see the sights.

So, we drove all around, taking pictures, singing songs and telling jokes.

CP2 was the Lower Bear Creek Trailhead.

 Lower Bear Creek Kiosk

Bear Creek itself was looking pretty, as usual.

 Bear Creek

CP3 was the Pinhoti 2 Lot.

 Pinhoti 2 Lot

On the way up to it we passed several of the Trailblazer adventure racers. They'd had a little training ride up that way earlier and the riders I saw were sweeping the little pink flags. We waited at the lot for them to finish climbing up to it so we wouldn't have to get past them on the way back down and talked with them for a while when they arrived.

There were at least 3 things going on up that way this weekend. The Pinhoti Shred, the Trailblazers training ride, and there was apparently a 100 mile ultra marathon going on too. I can ride my bike for hundreds of miles but I struggle to run even one. It's pathetic. When he or she wakes up in the morning, an ultra marathon runner is 100 times harder than I am all day. It turned out that the marathon had a 100K option too, you know, for people who are only 62.1 times harder than I am when they first wake up in the morning.

CP 3 was Barnes Creek Falls.

 Barnes Creek Falls  Barnes Creek Falls (Downstream)

Barnes is often barely a trickle, but it was really flowing with all the rain we'd gotten the night before. Oddly though, it was very warm and sunny all that day. It even got into the 80's for a little while, and except for puddles, the roads and trails were totally dry. It's REALLY trying hard to be Spring. Stupid groundhog... Come on Spring!

CP 4 was the Bear Creek Overlook.

 Bear Creek Overlook

It turned out I did already have a photo of that but we enjoyed standing there for a while anyway.

CP 5 was the Upper Bear Creek Lot.

 Upper Bear Creek Kiosk

CP 6 was the Little Chapel by the Creek.

 Little Chapel by the Creek

CP 7 was the old fire truck just down the road.

 Fire Engine

We passed back by Mulberry but nobody had seen or heard from the Florida boys yet. There was a SAG stop for the marathon at the start of P3. Earlier I'd thought the guy manning it was Charles Myrick but it turned out to be a guy named Paul and his son. I must have bugged him 3 or 4 times, but he hadn't yet seen my guys either. Ditto for the SAG stop at the start of P2.

We figured they'd be along any minute though, so we parked at the end of P2 and waited. Before terribly long the marathon leader came through.

 Ultra Marathon Leader

Over the next hour we watched a dozen or more runners and two groups of dudes on bikes come through. We'd seen the first group three different times earlier and joked that they might have thought we were stalking them. The second group was from Alabama and they'd run into our guys up at Potatopatch a few hours earlier. All right! So, we knew they'd be along eventually.

We waited, and more runners came by. At last we saw some guys on bikes, but it turned out to be Shane and Carebear, back from scouting the lower half of the Cohutta 100. They'd seen our guys too, also near Potatopatch. We talked until we were all cold from standing around and they headed back to Mulberry.

I had planned to meet my brother up by my place for dinner around 6 or 6:30 so we eventually had to just give up and go home, and much to our disappointment, we resolved to do just that. But, we figured we'd run by the SAG at the bottom of P2 again, just to see if maybe they'd seen them in the last 30 minutes or so. Nope, they hadn't... BUT! we drove up the road to turn around at the end of P1, and there they were!

Woohoo!

Even better, I had cell service over there, called my bro and he wouldn't be ready 'till 9PM. Double-woohoo!

The Florida dudes were headed to Mulberry for the night, so we drove back over. Shane and Mark were there. Andrew and Ginny were back too. The guests were back from their respective adventures. The stove was lit in the dining hall. Ginny's delicious cooking was on the breeze. There were dogs running around. The girls scratched every dog. Sophie was a little scared of the German Shepherd but he was very sweet. The coziness was building. Before long, the Florida crew showed up one by one, led by the Naked Indian himself.

 The Naked Indian

Actually Karlos may have gotten there second. I forget who arrived first. Aaron maybe?

We hung out for about an hour and a half. It was really good to get to see them. Jesse might have been a little disappointed that I hadn't brought my tiny wheels, but he'll get ample opportunity to joke about them in a few weeks. They already had stories. I'm sure they'll have more before they're done and I hope I get to hear them soon. I was jealous, but I had good reasons for missing the ride so I was only a little jealous.

And like that! We were gone.

I met my brother for dinner, right on time. We're going to the Grand Canyon soon and we've got a few details to sort out first.

It's gonna be good.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Bull Mountain

This weekend was been a marathon. Friday morning we drove (for 5 hours) to Sevierville TN for a gym meet, then played at the indoor waterpark all night, woke up early the next day, did it again then drove back to the ATL just in time for a father-daughter dance. To get all that done, I had had to bail on volunteering for the Southern Cross, for the second year in a row, for the same reason. Maybe next year.

I needn't even mention that I slept in on Sunday, which was unfortunate because my brother wanted to go for a ride at Chicope and though I didn't want to actually ride at Chicopee, perhaps if I'd woken up before he was committed then I could have convinced him to come ride with me. Dangit. I tried calling Tim, but if you get a cyclist's voicemail on the weekend, they are probably already out riding. Dangit again.

Solo then.

I picked up some fuel at the gas station.

 Fuel

That counts as fuel but I think I'm going to need to start eating a little healthier. I would later get an upset stomach from all the sugar.

I had a long day planned and three distinct objectives.

Objective number one was to measure the kiosks at Jake, Bull and FS77A. What? Yes. Measure the kiosks. There are apparently some new signs that need to go up and we need to know how big they can be. I meant to do it weeks ago but things kept coming up: illness, a race, a gym meet... No longer!

Objective number two was to survey the maintenance that's been done on Bull Proper. Some contractors have done some work up there recently, I haven't seen firsthand what work has been done, but I've heard conflicting reports including one alleging that Bull has been castrated and from the photos it appeared to warrant some investigation. Should we rename the trail and sell it as beef? Unknown. But I would know!

Objective number three was a test run of some bikepacking gear. I've got a Huracan coming up and a Pisgah Traverse. For the CFiTT I packed really light because I intended to do it in one day, but the Huracan and Traverse will be multi-day rides. I'll need to bring a bag and a mat, not to mention food. In the past I've loaded up my Gossamer pack but the camelback worked so well on the CFiTT that I wondered if I could just stuff my bag and mat into it. I tried. They fit, but how would they ride? That was the question.

As I passed Nimblewill Church, I discovered why I couldn't get a hold of Tim.

 Tims Truck

Great minds think alike.

And apparently ours do too.

Hiyo!

I'll be here all week.

I parked in a little turnout off of 28-1. And just to put it out there again... If you're riding at Bull/Jake and your route will take you by any of the lots or parking areas other than the Jake Lot, please consider parking at one of those lots rather than the Jake Lot. The horse trailers need to be able to park parallel to one another and then pull forward and around to get out, which can be dicey with a long trailer if there are a bunch of cars all the way around the outer edge.

Not 100 yards down the road, The Stronger Cyclist and his buddy Ron had just pulled in themselves. We got to talking for a few minutes but we all had big days ahead of us, in different directions, so we didn't dally about.

I headed down the road toward the Jake Lot.

It's trying really hard to be spring up there. Apparently the cold snap didn't kill the Daffodils.

 Daffodils

"We do not care about zis, what do you call it? 'Cold?' Bah." That's how daffodils talk.

Checkpoint 1: I measured the kiosk. 71x46-1/2.

All right then.

Onward.

I surveyed the work we'd done recently on the Bull/Jake Connector. It was holding up nicely. It did strike me though, that an unfortunate side effect of trail maintenance is that in its wake, the trail looks messy and unnatural and . I know that a year later it will look all beautiful, but I wonder if there's something that can be done at maintenance-time. Maybe we should just cover it with leaves. Something to think about I guess.

I noticed some spots on the 83 bypass that need some attention. They got bad all of a sudden. I suspect that all the rain we got this winter plus the increased popularity of the system are the culprits. The switchbacks are badly cupped, there's this one little kick near 83 too and a few other spots. Dangit.

Checkpoint 2: The sign at the Bull Lot. 69-1/2x46.

There was a guy snoozing in a Hammock at the bottom end of the lot. I wondered if he was training for the TNGA or something else but he appeared to be asleep so I didn't bother him.

I climbed Bull. About halfway up to the Y I ran into Marc Hirsch and a friend of his who's name I suddenly can't remember.

 Hirsch

She'd flatted and they were fixing it. They'd volunteered at the Southern Cross the day before. He'd parked next to Matt and Becky that morning. Apparently it wouldn't have been possible for me to go in any direction up there that day without eventually running into somebody that I know. Man it's a small world.

Up past the Y I finally got into the section of trail that the contractor had worked on recently.

Dozens of rolling dips from the original roadbed had been restored and they all looked good. It's apparently rained a bit since the work has been done too and it was clear that the water was successfully diverted. Good to see.

There was also a LOT of this kind of thing...

 Encouragement

...where debris has been placed on the upslope to encourage traffic to stick to the outer edge of the road. If traffic stays to the outside, the buildup on the inside will catch sediment, new soil will form, it'll germinate, it'll blend into the backslope, sweet singletrack will emerge, substantially less work will need to be done to the rolling dips in the future... Win, win, win.

Eventually I got into the sections where the controversial work had been done. I actually rolled right through the first one without noticing it until I'd gotten through it. Bull is a net climb but there are a few short descents. The first one (past the Y at least) is eroded about two feet below grade for about 50 yards and was once very rocky and rutted. It appears that the contractors bulldozed a semi-wavy route through the rocks and now there's a smooth line with rocks to either side. In the photo that I saw a week ago, it wasn't clear why that had been done but riding into it, it became more clear. First, I don't think the contractors had finished their work when the original photos were taken. The photos showed a wide swath cut all the way up the trail but it isn't like that now. There's a distinct line now, with debris on either side and the trail meanders from the left, to the right and back to the left. I would actually like to see it meander a bit more. Maybe we'll go up and tweak it at some point. The trail used to suddenly become steep there but it's fairly gradual now.

This certainly makes the trail less challenging, but from an erosion control standpoint, it is one of the prescribed solutions. When there are precipitous changes in the pitch of the trail, water suddenly accelerates and can do a lot of very localized damage, especially if there are little ledges it can drop off of. Regrading to make the pitch more uniform helps. Meandering the trail helps too because water will tend to go straight downhill, off of the trail, into the rocks and debris on either side. As long as nobody rides through the rocks and debris on a regular basis, they will act as a silt trap, new soil will form, it'll germinate, the 8 foot wide trail will become singletrack, and so on. It DEFINITELY makes the trail less challenging, but riding into it, it was clear why it was done.

I didn't take a photo because I'd already ridden through that section and into the next one before I realized that I'd ridden through it and I was too lazy to go back. I guess that's another point though. The tread on that hill now more closely matches the tread leading up to the hill in both pitch and rugosity. I didn't notice much of a change as I rolled through it except that it was below grade. And that makes sense. One of the goals of a modern trail system is a consistent experience along the trail. It's fine for the trail to gradually become rockier and more difficult or for long sections to have distinctly different feels, but short, sudden, precipitous changes are discouraged. The rock garden that used to be there may not phase an expert mountain biker, but by rights, the trail up to that point could be comfortably ridden by an intermediate rider and rolling downhill around the corner into the rock garden could suddenly put that rider in over their head. In fact, that very thing happened to my dad when he first rode that section ten years or so ago and he crashed. Not bad, but still, he crashed. The change definitely dumbs down the trail, but it makes sense why it was done.

Almost immediately after that first hill, you roll across a flat section and climb this second one. This photo is from the top of that hill, looking back down. It's odd because whenever I take a photo from the top down, it never looks like it. I swear this is from the top, looking down.

 Second Hill From The Top

Again, looking at it firsthand, it was clear why the contractors did what they did. There was a rut there in the past but it's been filled in and, like the previous hill, the entire hill is now a consistent grade, but more importantly, consistent with the pitch of the trail above it. This will help with erosion, which was clearly a problem before, thus the rut. Water won't suddenly accelerate or drop off of ledges any more and eat out a new rut.

Most importantly though, there is a hard left at the bottom of the hill. If a rider comes tear-assing downhill and is suddenly faced with a rutted out section of trail, his or her attention will more likely be focused directly in front of them rather than down the trail and around the corner. An expert mountain biker might be able to easily pick a line through the chunk and still be able to pay sufficient attention to notice oncoming riders but an intermediate level rider might not, or even if they did, might not be able to stop or slow down sufficiently whilst negotiating the gnar, should someone appear around that corner.

Should an oncoming hiker or cyclist appear, they might be able to get out of the way or might already be looking for someone coming down the hill and laugh it off, but Bull is an equestrian trail too and horses are wider, not generally as nimble and can throw their rider.

Some of the work could be CYA-related. "For the past 20 years there haven't been issues with people running into each other, so why do anything about it?" one might ask. The trails at Bull/Jake have been getting steadily increased use and with the improvements at Jake, that use has shot way up. Traffic is increasing, encounters are increasing, impact on the trail is increasing. There are sections that don't meet designated standards for erosion control or safety. Somebody could do all kinds of studies to decide whether it's really necessary to change anything, but it's way cheaper to make the trail compliant and if something does happen, the likelyhood of a lawsuit involving the land manager is diminished considerably because the trail was maintained to established standards.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. All the way up the hill following that bit of last work, the rolling dips have been restored.

 Turnout Above Second Hill

More erosion control. Combined with the turn at the bottom of the hill, and how short the section is, it's unlikely that that the corridor will rut out again any time soon even though the trail doesn't meander.

The third hill (from the bottom this time).

 Third Hill

This one has been thoroughly castrated. It used to be deeply rutted, extremely challenging, and you can even see on the really far right how riders had to cling to the side to make it up the hill. In fact, old tire tracks were still visible over there when I rode through. It looks like the tread has been regraded to be consistent with the pitch above it for the same reasons discussed earlier and that the fill is chocked full of rock to armor the soil internally, similar to what was done on the trail leading up off of Jones Creek over at Jake.

This will probably erode a bit over the years, eventually, exposing the rock to some extent. There are a bunch of solutions for sections of trail like this. Ideally, you'd route around it on the outside, but that's expensive, goes outside of the corridor, might require environmental analysis, etc. I'm not really qualified to analyse this work too critically. It doesn't precisely match the solutions I learned in trail school, but it looks "OK". It certainly makes the trail easier, but it's also clear why it was done.

Bridges!

 Bridge

There have classically been 4 or 5 mud holes on Bull that people rode further and further around each year. Bridges have now been built over them. It definitely makes the trail easier because you don't have to sling your bike over to the side and "float". Do these count as castration? I don't know. Mud puddles are fun, but per IMBA standards, trails aren't supposed to have standing water and when they do, widening inevitably occurs. I don't think anyone would argue that widening had occurred around those mud puddles. So, again, it's clear why it was done.

The fourth hill:

 Fourth Hill

Again, this is looking down, from the top, though it may not look like it. The meandering here is really obvious, as is the rock and debris placed to either side to act as a silt trap. Again, there's a hard left at the bottom and a trail designer would want riders to slow down there without skidding and be able to focus their attention ahead. The grade is consistent with the trail above. ...All the same things as before. There's also a new water turnout at the bottom of the hill.

I actually remember this hill very well. It was so chunky that when descending it, I would hug the far right hand side and try to rail that berm way up at the top there as long as I could. To do that, I had to carry a ton of speed and I always rode into the turn below it fast and blind. It was definitely fun, and was probably reasonable to do during the Fool's Gold, but I was always reticent about doing it on a casual ride because someone could be coming the other direction. I always had to brake hard and drop down into the chunk or try to manual back and forth across it, which was a challenge, but it wasn't that much fun, at least not to me. Yeah, it's way easier now, but the work makes sense.

Fifth hill.

 Fifth Hill (From Below)

More of the same. There are now silt traps to either side.

Those particular sections of trail are substantially less rocky and chunky than they were in the past, but the trail as a whole is nearly as rocky as ever. Just uphill from that last hill, for example...

 Rockiness After Fifth Hill

...and more beyond that.

 More Rockiness

Eventually I reached the spring. There was a new turnout above it.

 Turnout Above Spring

Most of the rock has been moved from the trail itself to the uphill side. Conditions were exactly right to suggest the motivation for this.

 Spring

This photo is looking back up the trail. You can see how to the left, it's dry.

You don't want a spring to flow across and down the trail for any length of time. First off, it erodes the trail and sediments the creek below, in this case, a feeder of Lance Creek, a trout stream. Second, on a horse trail, there's always the possibility of suddenly introducing a good bit of e-coli into the stream if a horse drops a pile anywhere along the length of the outflow. This is one of those things though where I'm not totally sure about how big of an issue that is. It might just be more CYA, but I'm not really qualified to judge one way or another, I just know that it's a concern and work is generally done to mitigate it and that looks like what was done here.

It appears that the contractors corralled the outflow of the spring to the upslope side of the trail and made the upslope side extra rocky, encouraging traffic to take the outside, less rocky line, which is good for reasons discussed above. They did this by moving most of the rock that was on the trail itself to the inside.

Ordinarily water flowing downhill on the upper side of a trail would also be a no-no, but it's super rocky there so it's not likely to erode any significant amount and a feeder creek crosses the trail 50 yards down from the spring. The spring water just joins the feeder right there. Now, instead of riding through the outflow for 50 yards, we cross it at an armored stream crossing. Yes, the trail is dumbed down, but again, the reasons are clear and valid.


Again, as seems to happen regularly these days, I'm afforded an opportunity to study my own duality.

On the one hand, I can totally understand the frustration. "Dammit, trails everywhere are becoming really easy to ride! Where can I find a real challenge these days? Jake is a cakewalk and now and these sections of Bull are too!" I would argue that on the whole, the change in the Bull Proper experience is marginal, it's like 6 spots of maybe 50 yards each over 4 miles, but I don't ride up there every weekend. Somebody who knows the trail really well might be looking forward to individual spots, and now they've been bulldozed out of existence. And this is happening everywhere, not just at Bull and Jake. Is this the end of technical trails?

On the other hand though, I can totally understand why the work is being done and I agree with it, at least in principle. The details, eh, maybe, maybe not. It's hard to say. I'm not really qualified to say whether I like the work or not without seeing how it performs. Woody or Walt or Mike Reiter would be, but I am not them. I can say that those sections of trail are like the worst-case scenarios that they show you in trail class. The solutions we learned were much more extreme and expensive in both money and time; like rock armoring the section from top to bottom, or building up the center, outsloping that, creating an armored drain to one side and an armored turnout at the bottom, or outright rerouting. We did discuss the solutions that were employed as part of a road-trail conversion, but not specifically for a section of trail that is already below grade. I imagine they would still work though, especially for such short runs. Who knows? Time will tell.

Wretched duality! Or triality, quadrality, or whatever you want to call it.

There's really a bigger picture though. By and large, we've been riding trails with unsustainable features all our lives without realizing it or even knowing what that means. In fact, we're used to the ruggedness of the trails and enjoy it. And it seems like the trail has been like that forever, why would it suddenly matter now? Long ago most land managers defined Acceptable Limits of Change for their trails but with a few notable exceptions, were lax about even evaluating whether their trails were compliant, much less doing anything about it. Very recently there has been a push from many different directions to either catch up or close the trails and they're opting to try and catch up. Unfortunately the work that's being done necessarily de-ruggedizes trail because the very things that make sections of trail rugged are the things that make those sections non-compliant.

What we really need are trails that are technical but ALSO sustainable as opposed to trails that are technical because of their unsustainability. Currently, the only reasonable way that I know of to do that is to find naturally technical terrain and run the trail through it a la The Dug Gap Pinhoti. I would argue though, that that's the "right" way to do it. I'd like to see trails that aren't much more than a representation of the surrounding terrain that's negotiable by whatever mode of transport it's designed for. I wouldn't expect the trail to be chunky and technical if the terrain around it isn't. Similarly, I wouldn't expect to find a clean and easy trail through rough and rocky terrain. In the long term, I suspect that the solution will be to have more trails in better locations, and if we want technical trails, build them in naturally technical locations. It will take time but we'll get there eventually if, as a community, we do the right things. I'm certain though, that we won't get there if we don't first make what we already have sustainable and demonstrate that we can manage it.


The contractor's work ended at Lance Creek road and I with that, I accomplished my second objective. Yay!

Objective three was to see how well my overstuffed camelback performed. So far, so good. It kind of "sausaged out" on my back, but it didn't swing from side to side and it sat well. The only problem so far was that I didn't have room to even put my armwarmers (which I had shed by that point) in it. That's how stuffed it was. How would I fit food in there? I could unzip the compression zipper and let it expand but then I know from experience that it swings around if you do that. Hmm, maybe that "so far, so good" actually needed some revision.

The climb up Bare Hare was rocky and fun. The pack was fine, at least from a weight perspective. The descent down the back side was as fun as usual too. Again, no issues with the pack.

Well, almost.

One of my bottles slipped out of the cage.

 Lost My Bottle

I went back to get it, tried to bend the cage to make it a little tighter, and spraaang! it popped. I guess it was about to go and that's why the bottle fell out. Ohhh... no room in my pack. I rearranged some gear and put it in my right pocket but it fell out almost immediately.

Hmmm.

Zip ties to the rescue. I put it in the busted cage and zip-tied it to the frame. Hopefully that would hold. If I ended up needing it, I could pop the zip ties.

At the bottom of Bare Hare I rolled out on 77A, passed a few trucks and eventually made it to CP3, the kiosk at the intersection of 77A and 77.

 Kiosk

46x47

It looked pretty full though. I'm not sure how we're going to fit much else on there. That's pretty much the case with all of them actually.

The next leg was a long climb up Winding Stair Gap Road and some out-and-backs on the roads up there. I guess I could say that I had four objectives, though one of them didn't occur to me until I was near the top of Winding Stair. I noticed a few days back that I didn't have any photos on my trails site of the Hickory Flatts Cemetery, despite having been there a dozen times. How did that happen?

Easy to fix though.

The pavillion.

 Hickory Flatts Cemetery Building

The graves.

 Hickory Flatts Cemetery

The "facilities", disgusting as they are.

 Hickory Flatts Cemetery Facilities

Eventually my wanderings brought me back toward the car. Not wanting my freehand nav skills to get rusty, I even did an extended hike-a-bike of what had to be a mile or more though some unfamiliar terrain. This seemed like a great idea at first, and I ended up where I intended to end up, but not before running into this punji stick.

 Shred

It stuck into my leg as I walked and the force of that eventually broke it off, but the broken off point dug in pretty well. Yaah. The durability of skin never fails to amaze me. That kind of thing has happened a few times and I've always been surprised when it turns out not to have been driven directly into my shin. A few years back, Trey Woodall hit one of those and it did get driven into his shin. He pulled it out and finished his ride. Then he rode the Trans North Georgia a few weeks later. I would like to think that I would be that hard but the opportunity hasn't yet presented itself. Not that I really want it to, but I seem to keep tempting it.

A buddy of mine texted me right before I started the ride and said he was taking his kids squirrel hunting. Later he texted me that they didn't get anything but they still had a good time running around in the woods and shooting. Too bad I couldn't just text him this squirrel that I found here.

 Squirrel

Maybe one day there will be an app for that. Da-da-ding. "Dave has sent you a squirrel."

Ha.

It was getting pretty late. The sun was gone. I had to put my armwarmers back on. You know it's been a good day if you start out wearing warm clothes, then have to take them off, but then you're still out when it gets cold enough to have to put them back on again. I turned on my flashing red tail light. I didn't yet need the headlamp.

As I approached my vehicle, I noticed Stephen's car was still there and I thought I saw someone or something milling around by mine. It turned out that he'd just finished his ride too. Nice. We'd both been out for a little over 7 hours. He was attempting to play a joke on me but I'd ridden up right then. Actually two jokes. They were pretty funny. We talked for a while and it was cool to catch up. He mentioned that he's getting chainsaw certified which will be very helpful. I know of two trees on Bare Hare that he can cut out tomorrow. We had very different rides, but they were apparently equally satisfying and at one point our paths could have crossed. I'm actually surprised that we didn't run into each other.

The experiment with the overstuffed camelback went OK. I don't think it'll be totally functional though. There's no room for anything that I might pick up along the way, like food for example. It's conceivable that I could put my bag in an even smaller stuff sack though. I'll have to try that. The experiment continues.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Technically I had five objectives, not four, or three. I'd put a lay-back post on my bike that morning. For a year or more, I've been bothered by how scrunched up I've been between the bars and seat. Lately it's been really bothering my neck and back. After 4 or 5 hours, especially of climbing, it gets pretty bad. I'd always had my seat as far back as possible and eventually that led to breaking a rail at the Fool's Gold last year. I got a lay-back post, originally just so I could put the seat in the same position but with the clamp further back on the rails. I eventually realized though that I needed to be further back from the bars too, so I ended up using the new post and still putting the seat really far back. I tested that out Sunday too. It made a world of difference, but I can imagine that it would be even more comfortable a half inch or more FURTHER back. Maybe I need a longer stem. I'll have to see after a race, that's when I can really tell.

Oh, what a day. The more-likely-to-be-boring part of riding around on gravel was fun, but the more-likely-to-be-fun part of riding on singletrack was work. Mark Twain points out though that work is anything one is obligated to do is and play is anything one is not obligated to do. One will even pay for the opportunity to do something that if one were paid for, one would decline, as being paid turns it into work. I think I see where he's coming from. It's weird because even the trail "work days" don't usually feel like work, yet somehow measuring the signs and examining the trail did.

Weird. So weird. Next time it will be all play.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Weekly Beatdown

The Wednesday group rides haven't started up yet, so for now I have to beat myself down.

I went for a semi-exploratory ride today and ended up finding a bunch of long climbs that I didn't know about before and ended up having to climb a bunch that I did know about but didn't realize I'd have to climb them until I was already committed. It's coming back though. I've got a little power again. I can breathe. I can burn again. And I can shed the burn in three or four breaths again. It's awesome.

I spun a loop through Windermere Park and on the way out, I swear I passed a girl that I dated after high school who also moved to the ATL. It couldn't possibly be her though, or at least that's what I told myself. Why would she be there? I couldn't imagine that it was her and she didn't appear to recognize me, though I was wearing odd clothes and a helmet and glasses, so maybe she wouldn't. I kind of kicked myself later for not spinning back and at least finding out.

My explorations took me over by Settles Bridge and I got to see it from the other side this time.

 Settles Bridge From the West

I found some dirt over that way too, a half mile or more off of James Burgess road. I had so much fun down in Paulding County with my brother, I wondered if I could put a loop like that together around here, so last night I googled "dirt roads of forsyth county" and lo, the internet provided me with a list. Apparently the county has to publish the list of roads they're going to treat with Calcium Chloride. Ta-da. I then looked them all up on Google Maps and a few made little loops off of main roads. That's what led me over by Burgess. Burgess itself turned out to be quite a climb too though.

I flatted on some sharp gravel where they were doing some road construction on Old Atlanta. This time I made sure that everything was seated right before I aired it up.

My legs were tired at dinner, but it was a good tired. The best kind of tired. It's all coming back.

Big Creek Greenway

Normally Kathryn and I would just go for a walk on a Tuesday but since the kids were still off of school, we all went for a ride on the Greenway instead.

 Rollin'

Woohoo!

We didn't do too long of a ride and it wouldn't really be worth mentioning except for this cool thing that we saw. About 50% of the greenway in Forsyth County (which is where we rode) is a boardwalk over marshland, and these days the water is about 8 or 10 inches deep in most places. In one spot, it even comes up through the boardwalk a little, and in another spot, you can see, for quite a while, that the marsh level is several feet higher than the creek. What the heck could cause that?

A beaver dam!

 Beaver Dam

I saw it when I was out on my road bike last week but I forgot where it was. It turned out to be right where we turned around.

Awesome.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Edmondson Cove

Yesterday was my birthday. Happy birthday to me. My Dad says I'm getting seasoned, but that I shouldn't feel bad about it because I can always say that I'm not yet as seasoned as he is. Ha, ha.

It was also Presidents Day so the girls were off of school, but since they had gym and dance all day I couldn't reasonably do anything with them. Solo! Solo, it is. And therefore I chose something that they would never want to do, ever - climb back and forth over ridiculously steep mountains all day.

I parked at Mauldin Gap. If you've ridden the Winding Stair Loop, you might know where that is. From there, I walked uphill to the top of the knob. There is a "trail" in the vicinity but it sort of comes in from the side and it's not obvious at all except in the summer. In the summer, the hillside is so overgrown with thorns that you can't possibly go any other way, but in the winter it's wide open and clear, and gets a good bit of use by the Rangers, and the shuffled leaves marking the route that they last took up to the top looks as much like a trail as the "real" trail. I don't think I've ever taken the same route up twice.

At the top, the shredded remains of this sleeping mat could be found at every turn.

 Shredded Mat

It looked like the wind had had it's way with them. I'm not sure how the mat got so shredded to begin with though. I looked at it for a while. The cuts were extremely geometric. More than I would expect from somebody hacking at it with a knife, or an animal tearing at it either. It made me wonder if the fabric just deteriorates in that way. It is made of threads running along the X and Y axes. It might just naturally fall apart like that.

Weird.

There are "trails" up on top of Greasy Mountain in the sense that you can tell that people have gone that way before, especially in the summer, but in the winter they are somewhat more difficult to follow. Sometimes the leaves just look slightly out of place. I searched for one that I'd seen up there last time and eventually found it. It led to an old roadbed. When that ended I followed more disturbed leaves down into Edmondson Cove.

At the bottom end of the cove there was once a pond, but beavers and weeds have all but reclaimed it. For a while it was renamed the Edmondson Wetland, but recently, somebody just went and removed the sign altogether.

There was a maze of old logging roads, or something near the creek. I'm not totally sure they were for logging though. It would have been a nice place for a farm and there were a lot of old-looking artifacts lying around - coffee cans, bottles, cinder blocks. The roads might just have meandered around the property. The proliferation of stumps on the hillside implied logging, but the lack thereof in the flats implied otherwise. Who knows. Maybe it was both.

Eventually I made it down to the creek itself, which was much like any other North Georgia Creek. Shallow, clear and cool. Full of rocks. Some of the rocks had moss and some of the moss had lots of other little things growing on up through it. "Ecosystem on a rock" a friend of mine once called it.

 Edmondson Creek

I kind-of wanted to explore the entire cove but some of the old roadbeds were pretty overgrown. Others appeared to get frequent use by hunters and Rangers. Unfortunately, it was easy to tell who used them from the trash. There wasn't much trash, but the little that there was was telling. The tear-off part of an MRE wrapper, spent rounds - blanks from Rangers, real rounds from hunters, shotgun shells, beer cans... Beer and hunting seem to go together like bacon and eggs. Every year after deer season there are new beer cans lying in the middle of nowhere and half burnt ones in the backwoods fire rings.

Eventually I abandoned the maze and headed toward the "pond" and the road. Along my route there was a tree with a weird appendage growing off of it.

 Tree Appendage

Weird.

At the road there was a truck parked with the engine running and a lady sitting in the passenger seat but no driver. I figured maybe her husband was peeing somewhere. I waved. She waved back.

I took the northern side of the Edmondson Pond Loop back into the cove. With the drying up of the pond, nobody seems to use the trail that much any more. It was more overgrown than anything I'd been on all day. The old interpretive signs were still there though.

 Role of the Hunter

This one was interesting. There may have been 350,000 hunters when the sign was put up, but that's been declining by 10% a year since 2000 in Georgia and the revenue from licenses and taxes has been dwindling. The DNR recently gave up the Blue Ridge WMA (of which Edmondson Cove was a part), instituted general user fees for many of their WMA's and kicked around the idea of renaming them Recreation Areas. The management costs, even above and beyond conservation, were traditionally covered by hunters and fishermen, but there just isn't as much money there these days. If you hike or bike or anything in the participating WMA's, you have to buy a pass. I guess that's only fair. It seems odd to me that hunters were subsidizing it in the past. I had no idea. Of course I have no idea what the breakdown is - how much money is spent on what or where it comes from, exactly. That would be interesting to see.

I cut through the woods to a food plot road and as I prepared for the second significant ascent of the day I heard a rustling in the bushes to my right, down on the trail that I'd just come off of. There was an elderly gentleman with a gun, walking the trail, in the opposite direction. It then occurred to me. I think it's small game season. He must have been the driver of that white truck. "Hang out here honey while I go hunting."

I've seen trout fisherman pull up to a bridge, jump out, cast a few times, jump back in and take off. I've even seen bass fishermen do it at park ponds. "Drive-by's". I'd never seen a hunter do it though. I imagine for small game, it's somewhat effective. Jump out, make a loop around a field, or a pond in this case, shoot what jumps up and move on. I'd seen a dozen or more squirrels already that day. I never heard a shot though, so maybe he wasn't so lucky.

As I began my ascent up the south face of Frozen Knob I was afforded a nice view of Greasy Mountain. I had just come down from there. My car was on the other side at the northern end.

 Greasy Mountain

Up on top, it was again clear who spends the most time up there.

Rangers...

 Ammo

...and hogs.

 Hog Rooting

The rooting was indescribable. I say that, yet I will now attempt to describe it. Those holes are about 8 or 10 inches in diameter. If you were to mark out a 20 foot by 20 foot square, there would be at least one set of 2 or 3 holes like that in each square, over the entire top of the mountain. In between you couldn't go more than 3 or 4 inches without seeing a more casual instance. It was like what I'd seen along the road on the way up to Anna Ruby Falls a few weeks back, except over a much larger area. I imagined a herd of pigs, swarming like locusts over the mountain, devouring every buried thing. While I would have loved to have seen that, I would have been terrified to have seen that. On the upside though, the pigs didn't seem to be all that huge. The last time I saw little pits like that they were several feet in diameter with 40 pound rocks casually excavated from them. I could only imagine the beast that did that. This time, there appeared to have been a much larger herd, but of much smaller individuals.

Still though. Wild pigs. Scary.

I headed east and then south to Edmondson Gap. To call what I took down to the gap a trail would again be a very liberal definition of the term. At the CoTrails weekend we had a few weeks back though, we were all asked to define what a trail is and I realized that I tend to define "trail" very liberally. A lot of folks had complex definitions that involved renewal of the mind and spirit and getting exercise and experiencing the outdoors and maintenance requirements and lots of other things. The definition the Trail Dynamics guys has was complex and precise and I remember that it involved the word "facility". My definition was something like "a route where you can tell someone or something has gone before". I don't think my definition will work in a planning or maintenance context, but it certainly works in the woods.

I half expected to see an ammo box on a stick at Edmondson Gap. It looked like a likely place for one, and I'd recently seen one even further out than that. I was disappointed though.

The "trail" back up to Greasy was the steepest yet, and I was on the north face of the ridge so it was cold too. There was even ice on the ground here and there.

My dad called me about halfway up and I sat on a log, facing down into the cove, with a reasonably majestic view for miles around, talking with him for 20 minutes or so about birthdays and computers and auto repair. While that might at first sound like sacrilege, at the time, it seemed like the perfect union of so many of the things that are important in my life.

The trail, vague to begin with, disappeared entirely about halfway up and widened like a delta into the dozens of routes taken recently, only discernible by a footprint here, a trampled thorn bush there, a broken stick smashed down into the ground, an indention on a rotten log, and so on.

Eventually I reached the top and coming out of the shadow, bathed in waves and waves of sun. As I walked, the sun would appear and reappear. When I could see it, I felt 10 degrees warmer.

I headed west to Mauldin Knob. Again, I was afforded another nice view, this time of Sassafras Mountain and the Blue Ridge in general. The AT runs along that ridge.

 Sassafras Mountain

I managed to find the "actual" trail back down off of the knob. It's super steep, the descent made my legs tired, I'd forgotten to bring a snack with me and all I'd eaten that day was a pair of yeast rolls. I could see my car from almost all the way up to the top but it seemed like it took all day to get down to it.

On the drive in, I'd passed a guy on a road bike on Camp Wahsega Road, a guy on a mountain bike climbing FS80, two hikers at Horse Gap, several people out for a drive, and then there was that hunter and his wife down at the pond. It seemed like the woods up there was the place to be, but on the way out it was definitely closing time and I was locking up the joint. It wasn't quite desolate though, there were a few folks at the quarry, making camp, and a lady pedaling two miles an hour on a hybrid back toward Dahlonega. Her partner was up the road a bit, at a church, with his bike turned upside down, lying on the ground, with his feet crossed and propped up on the top tube. He appeared to have been waiting a while, and by the look of it, he'd be waiting a while longer. I couldn't help but smile.

I grabbed a snack at the gas station and headed home. That night we ate with my brother at Pappadeaux which is one of the few places in Atlanta that has good fried seafood. Mmmm. Fried seafood.

It was a good day. It's been a while since I've crawled all over random mountains. I'll have to do it again soon.