Mulberry Gap

Mid May, I suddenly realised that I hadn't ridden actual mountain singletrack in quite a while. Whenever that happens, I get a little nervous that I even still can - no amount of not riding in the mountains can keep me in shape for riding in the mountains.

Did I still have it?

To answer this burning question, I made my way up to Mulberry Gap for some Bearhoti action, which is usually a decent test of my fitness.

On the way out of town, I grabbed some Waffle House.

Not that I can't make that same breakfast at home, but it's nice to get out.

I don't remember anything about the drive up, so it was probably uneventful. I do remember that Jackie was there. I want to say that Andrew was building new trail on the property, and Kate was checking out the work when I arrived.

This is why it sucks to wait so long to write about stuff, all the little details disappear.

During the actual ride, I took some of the obligatory photos...

...but I also noticed that a recent storm had dropped a tree right through this old cabin.

Man, that sucks!

I hope nobody had plans up there this weekend.

I felt weak almost the entire day, just as I had feared. The gravel climb didn't seem interminable, I just never felt like I was keeping up a commanding pace, and I was relieved when I got to the Upper Bear Creek Lot.

Also, at the far end of the lot, I was greeted by some beautiful mountain laurel. That pink kind!

Another benefit of riding in the mountains.

I did feel great bombing down Bear Creek. I mean, who doesn't?

Ahh, Bear Creek in all of its glory!

I was a little aprehensive here and there though. It's easy to hit terminal velocity up there, it had been a while since I'd done that, and I didn't want to end up in over my head.

Negotiating the trail at speed turned out not to be a problem, but I did run into some hikers near P1, and kind-of scared them. There aren't great lines of sight down there, and though I felt like I was going pretty slowly, velocitation is a thing. I saw them ahead, said "Hello hello!", but then took a little longer than I wanted to stop. I did stop about 30 yards away, but it was definitely abrupt, and not that gentle, obviously-controlled deceleration that I try to go for when approaching other trail users. The guy and his dog didn't seem concerned, but the lady behind them got startled, and you really never want that.

Climbing on P1 was tough. Again, I just felt kinda weak. In comparison though, the P2 gravel road and grasstrack seemed to zip right by. I'm not sure if I was finally waking up or what, but I felt good there.

The tail end of P2 seemed extra rough, but nothing compared to how it felt during the TNGA in 2019 when I finally decided I'd had it with my 80mm 26er.

The push over MGap proper didn't seem too bad either, and it always sucks. Maybe I had finally gotten my mountain legs back.

When I got back to base, I took an amazing shower and bought a couple of tee shirts. I also milled around the pond, looking for snakes. There's almost always at least one.

Yep, snake!

I think it's a midland brown water snake. The know-your-snakes poster inside the store identifies it as a banded water snake, but I think it's a bit far north for those. I'm no expert though.

I don't remember what I did for dinner. Again... the details disappear. I do remember that I set a ton of PRs, most of which were climbing. So, while I felt weak, I guess I actually rode pretty well. That used to happen at races all the time, way back, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.

Looks like I've still got it.