We got a few more inches of snow. This morning my commute was quite interesting; many schools and businesses were closed today. There were an inch or two of fresh snow on the roads, and more snow coming down hard. My cassette and rear derailleur got clogged with snow over the course of my ride to work.

However, I had an absolute blast.

The Beast handled the snow well, I like the feeling of snow on my face, the way it blankets everything … I really just enjoy riding in this stuff. By the time I arrived at work, I had a silly grin on my face.

My ride home was more or less the same, but more intense.  It was colder, there was more snow on the ground, it was snowing harder, and it was VERY windy. It was snowing sideways!

Wind blew the snow off roofs, as you can sort of see below.

Fortunately, it had been warm enough that the main roads had little to no snow on them. State Road 45 was clear completely. Mt. Gilead, a side road, had some snow, but it wasn’t too bad. Still, I was riding the Trucker, with slick tires, so I had to be extra careful.  Interestingly enough, the hills were the *easiest* part, as they had large amounts of sand and salt on them. The flat sections were largely untreated, and as such has some snow and ice.

In the first few shots, you can see the progression of the road conditions, going away from town.

Here you can see that I’m enjoying myself. It felt great to ride the Trucker after spending so much time commuting on The Beast.

More importantly, the scenery was tremendous. I’ve ridden through this area dozens of times before, but it’s never looked like this.

You can see how thick the sand is, on this steep, winding downhill.

I made my way over to Bethel Lane, another back road … and the road conditions were OK at first, but quickly deteriorated. Icy snow and snowy ice made for very little traction. I was impressed at how well my slick tires handled these conditions, especially at one point when I stopped and put a foot down, only to have it nearly slide right out from under me.

At one point, my rear tire suddenly slid sideways. I recovered without falling, but it was nerve-wracking. I just had to go very slowly for a few miles.

I stopped to take a break for a minute and realized icicles were accumulating on my fenders. I had to break the ice off the front fender, as it was starting to rub the tire.

I was worried about the hill that I would have to ride down to get to Lake Griffy. The road there was in slightly better shape than Bethel Lane had been, but not by a whole lot. Once I reached the bottom of the hill, the road was clear and I rode across the causeway. The lake was frozen and a lone fisherman was out on the ice.

The road up the hill on the other side of the lake, back toward town, was clear and easy riding. Well, easy except the fact that it’s a big hill.

Within a few minutes, I was back in town. It’s a bit jarring to turn the corner after riding past a lake and through a forest, and suddenly see one of the busiest roads in town. That’s one thing I love about Bloomington, though, you don’t have to go far to get to what is essentially the middle of nowhere.

From there, I rode home, basically following my commute route. Some kind soul had again plowed the bike path. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a vast improvement over what it’s like when left alone. Whoever is responsible for this: thank you!

All in all, a great ride. Just a bit over 18 miles, but it felt like more, given the conditions.

We got a couple inches of snow yesterday/last night. Conditions weren’t too bad this morning, except in a few places. The parking lot in our apartment complex and the bike path both had ice, with a layer of crunchy snow on top.

Some of the less-traveled roads had snow on them. The city decided to try a new snow-management technique: dropping lots of salt, instead of plowing. Needless to say, this didn’t work at all.

But, the roads that get more traffic were in pretty good shape. They were just wet, and slushy at times.

On Steve A’s recommendation, I’ve started waxing my bike when I clean it. He said, basically, that it would make it easier to clean the bike, and hopefully help prevent so much slush (among other things) from building up on the bike. For now, I’m using a spray-on wax, and it definitely does seem to help. Today I found that while it doesn’t prevent slush from building up on the down tube, it does make it not stick as well. On my way to work, once it reached a certain point, it actually fell off on its own.

By the time I got to work, more slush had built up on the downtube. This happens despite my low fenders. But, most of  it was easily removed by simply tapping it with my boot.

That didn’t help my drivetrain, unfortunately.

After work, I hopped on the bike to head home, and for a few minutes, all was well. But then after I stopped at a light, I tried to get going again and spun out. I thought maybe my chain had fallen off, or wasn’t quite in gear, but it seemed to be fine. I continued on and everything was fine again, until I stopped at a stop sign, and started pedaling again. I pedaled like mad, but the bike wouldn’t go anywhere. I looked down and the chain was intact, but I was pedaling freely forward, without turning the wheel. It felt just like pedaling backwards, but I was pedaling forwards!

This was a truly weird sensation, and occasionally I could get the gears to engage, but mostly, I was unable to move. I was about two blocks from a bike shop, so I walked over to see if they could do a short-term fix to at least get me home. No dice … and apparently the cassette on this bike is really old and weird and they can’t replace it, either. I had another wheel at home, that would require some adjustment and probably a new cassette, but I still had to get home.

So, the two miles home from that point were a combination of walking, coasting downhill, and trying to get the gears to catch. They did a few times, so I ended up walking probably a mile, and riding the rest. Naturally, parts were quite icy, which would have made for a great test of my studded tires, but I had to walk. Damn.

I made it home safely. I still need to put the other wheel on, and make some adjustments. Ugh. I’d just ride the Trucker tomorrow, but it’s very icy, and I really need the studded tires (they won’t fit on the Trucker).

We used snowshoes, but in this case we could have gone without. There was snow, but it wasn’t very deep, and there were a few narrow sections where the snowshoes actually made it harder. On the other hand, the added traction from the crampons was much appreciated during some icy parts.

This was a truly beautiful hike — the trail followed a stream, which was frozen over in some parts, and passed some impressive rock formations and waterfalls. It started snowing on our way back.

We may have turned around too early: we thought the trail ended when we reached a blocked-off bridge. But looking at the map again, I think the trail may have continued past the bridge. We probably could have found a way around. Oh well.

Sand Spring Run

Ice

Waterfall, with some weird blue ice at the base

Rob, enjoying himself

Small waterfall – the woods were green with massive quantities of rhododendron

The trail goes through a crevice in the rock

Sarah

A layer of ice, suspended above the creek

Snowy rocks and creek

Me — dig the new glasses?

The creek again

Looking down from above the waterfall

The creek, lined with pines

Tracks by the Susquehanna River

Looking the other way

Tunkhannock

Another part of Tunkhannock

Weird house

The house across the street

Darkness falls

Door

The “Seven Tubs” are impressions in the rock carved by the water as it cascades down the mountainside in a narrow gorge. This was an exceptionally beautiful hike, with views of the cascades, tubs, and a few “runs” (creeks) flowing through the areas, and some mountains. There was snow and ice, but again, not enough to warrant snowshoes. The trail was rocky and icy in places, which made for some challenging hiking.

The park was technically closed, but you could still park by the gate and walk in. So, we did. It was a bit of a slick hike down the hill, as the road had some snow and ice on it.

Walking down the park road

Once we hit the trail, there was immediately a bridge taking us across the cascades where the tubs are located. It was different from what I envisioned. Somehow I thought the tubs would be spread out, not all in one place. Wheelbarrow Run had carved a narrow and steep path through the rock, and the tubs were readily visible. The bridge gives you a great vantagepoint. I did some relatively long exposures so the water would have some motion blur. I didn’t bring a tripod, I just braced my camera on the bridge. I did this at several other points during the hike, bracing the camera on trees or rocks, with mixed results.

Looking down at the falls and tubs

A closer view of one of the falls

Looking the other way. One “tub” is visible at the bottom, and another after the narrow waterfall.

The bridge

Instead of crossing the creek, we turned on the trail just before it, after taking in the views.

Looking across the gorge, with a neighboring mountain in the background

Sarah, hiking up some slick rocks

The trail followed Wheelbarrow Run for a bit, and we hiked up for a while before taking a ladder into a gorge. Fantastic icicles and other formations sparkled in the sunlight. Sarah was patient as I took tons of photos, even a few macro-ish shots with my telephoto lens.

Ladder down to Wheelbarrow Run (this might be tricky on a bike)

Flowing ice draperies

Sarah, below

Wheelbarrow Run

Icicles glisten in the sunlight

Ice-covered rock wall

Extreme icicle closeup

More ice on a rock wall

Another view of the lovely Wheelbarrow Run

Sarah double-checked the book, and we were on our way. The trail climbed out of the ravine and up the rocky mountainside. We had a few views of an adjacent mountain that I’m guessing was Wilkes-Barre Mountain.

Sarah, reading in the woods

Rocky trail

Looking toward Wyoming Valley, where we live

Some context

The whole view

We crossed some more small creeks and passed a powerline cut. After a while, we hiked down to a bigger stream, which we followed to its confluence with Laurel Run.

Power lines

One of many large rocks along the way

Stream

Watching the water cascade over the rocks

Sarah was once again very patient as I spent way too much time taking photos. I couldn’t help myself. The trail then followed Laurel Run back to the original bridge. The water ran incredibly clear, and Laurel Run went from wide to narrow, and back to wide. Rocks and ice in the stream, combined with the beautiful afternoon light, made for a very beautiful and peaceful scene. Rock piles had been built at various points along the trail. I thought they were very cool — my thanks to whomever took the time and effort to do this.

What a gorgeous hike. I look forward to going back at various times of year — I imagine there must be a lot of wildflowers in the spring. There are a lot of mountain laurel and rhododendron, so June or July should be amazing as well — and of course foliage in the fall. I’d also like to go back again this winter, maybe sometime when there is more snow. Maybe I will bring a real tripod, to improve my photo opportunities.

And of course, I will have to try mountain biking there — although like I said, it would be pretty technical. And I am feeling sort of down on uber-technical riding. It’s never really been my thing, and sometimes the technical stuff gets in the way of just riding.

Well, it looks like the Christmas hike is becoming a tradition. This year was a lot different, as it was just Sarah and me, and here in NE Pennsylvania, we had snow and ice to contend with. We both were (and still are) sick, but it was great to get out anyway.

We went down to Nescopeck State Park, where mom and I hiked when she came to help us move in. Sarah and I had never been there together. We decided to hike the Creekside Trail, and now that we have done a little snowshoeing, we felt confident enough to bring the dog with us.

Rob

Sarah

Snowshoes

Wide trail, mountains

Creek

Another view of the creek

Rob, running alongside the creek

The trail was wide and easy for a while. It had snowed, warmed up, and then re-froze, so there was a fairly thick layer of ice on top of the remaining snow. It was very slick, but no real problem with our snowshoes. The crampons dig into the ice and have a very strong grip.

There was one thing we hadn’t counted on, though, that caused us some problems: with all the melting snow came some flooding. Parts of the trail were underwater, and we had to find a way to cross the water where it wasn’t too wide.

Flooding

A thin layer of ice hovered above the water

Wide creek

Sarah found a good way to cross flooding in a couple of different places. She was a really good sport about it. We managed to step over/through the water without getting wet.

We reached a point where we were ostensibly supposed to continue in the direction we had been heading. However, the arrow pointing to the Creek Side Loop in that direction had been painted over, and there was no trail visible. We had to instead head back on the Fern Trail.

What happened to the trail on the left?

Another view of the creek

The icy/muddy/slushy Fern Trail

At one point as we hiked, Rob was clearly watching some kind of animal. Eventually a rabbit jumped up and Rob took chase. He didn’t catch it, but it was good to see Rob acting like more of a dog (he normally just lays on the couch).

Rob, stalking a rabbit

Shortly thereafter, we saw some tracks that I can only assume were bear tracks, unless there was some kind of bow-legged guy with weird boots hiking there previously. Can anyone confirm this?

Bear tracks, maybe?

Fern Trail

After a while, the Fern Trail reconnected with the Creekside Trail, and we headed back toward the car.

Creek

Sarah and Rob

Another creek

Back at the car

We really enjoyed our hike, despite the flooding problems and disappearing trail. I hope we can keep the Christmas hike tradition alive, as it’s a great way to celebrate the holiday and spend some quality time together.

I planned a ride in mostly new areas. First, I’d explore an area I found in Google Earth that I thought might give me some interesting views of Bunker Hill, where I frequently ride. Then, I’d climb Larksville Mountain, but do it a different way than in the past, and ride over to Plymouth Mountain before dropping back down into the valley.

I am really enjoying planning rides with my GPS — it’s far easier than my usual method of taking screenshots, cropping them, writing out directions, and printing everything out, usually spanning several sheets of paper. Now I just click where the turns are and while my GPS does not have autorouting capabilities (and therefore just shows a straight line from one point to the next, not following the roads) it’s good enough to get me where I’m going. I usually mess up following the GPS at least once per ride, but it nearly always seems to be in more congested areas (in town) where it’s easier to get back on track. Here’s the route I rode. It’s nearly exactly what I had planned.

View Larger Map

I started climbing nearly immediately. A couple of short climbs at first (now, half a mile is a short climb) got my blood pumping, and in the 40-degree heat, I felt awfully warm. I did manage to get an interesting view of Bunker Hill, and a good look back into the valley, shortly into my ride, from Courtright Street.

Panoramic view back into the valley, from about 200 feet above it

Bunker hill, as seen through a chainlink fence

I found an interesting little trail by this school and followed it to see if there were better views. No such luck, and I dropped my camera along the way. I picked it up on my way back. It was fun to ride offroad briefly.

Side trail

I rode through a residential area near Courtdale that looked in Google Earth like it might have some good views of Bunker Hill. Unfortunately there were no gaps in the houses where I could look. I think there would have been some nice views from some back yards. Alas. A few places I saw in Google Earth and hoped to go were signed “Private Drive.” One didn’t have a sign, and I rode up it only to discover that it was in fact somebody’s driveway. Someone came out of the house, they were cool about it, and I told them they should have a sign; I thought it was a road.

Clearly signed driveway

How am I supposed to know this is a driveway? It looks incredibly inviting, too

Having had limited success in the residential area, I rode over to Corby Street for what turned out to be a brutal climb, riding 500 feet over the course of a mile. It was splended: a pretty, quiet, effectively one-lane road. But it was long, and steep at times, reaching a 20% grade at one point. No section was unridable, but I had to stop a couple of times to catch my breath take some photos. I saw the remains of a couple deer alongside the road, and wondered if they had been shot and left there, or if something else had happened. They seemed fairly picked clean, so I get the feeling something must have devoured them.

Scene on the way to Corby St.

Up …

Looking back … you can see the distant mountains on the other side of the valley, and you can almost make out some buildings in the valley itself

Brutal climbing

A very helpful mirror, mid-switchback

More climbing

Shack

The grade let up a bit as the climb wore on. But then something unexpected happened: the pavement ended and it became a gravel road. This was unexpected to me because I have found very few gravel roads in this area. I was pleasantly surprised, and had some fun with it. Fortunately none of the gravel sections were terribly steep. The gravel in this area is strange, very dark and reddish in color. It was hard-packed gravel, with a smooth surface and not much loose rock on top. This made for fairly easy riding, even if I was still climbing.

Gravel

Laundry hung out to dry

Once I reached the top, I stopped to rest a bit and take in the scenery. I hadn’t expected to see Bunker HIll from here, but there was a clearing, and I had a nice view. I was exhausted from the trip up, but it felt very rewarding to be at the top.

At the top, looking back

Panoramic view of Bunker HIll from Corby Road

While I was here, I wanted to see if you could go mountain biking by the power lines. These were clearly marked as private property/no tresspassing, and I assume they mean business. Blast.

The Trucker alongside Corby Road

Power lines going the other way

A look at where I was headed — slick gravel road

The road got wetter and had a slick, greasy surface almost more like mud. If it had been mud though I would have just sunk in.

The road turned and for a while I rode toward the sun. There was a bit of snow and ice here and there, and the sun’s rays reflected off the slippery road surface, nearly blinding me at times.

Snowy cornfield

Strange road surface

Bright reflections

I was on flat ground, briefly, and even passed some cornfields. I have seen very little agriculture here in NE Pennsylvania; there just isn’t much flat ground, except in the valley, which is fairly developed. But here, on top of Larksville mountain, is some flat(ish) land, and farmers take advantage of it where they can find it.

Farm

Cornfield

I soon realized that I was not, in fact, at the top of the mountain. In fact quite a bit of climbing was still ahead of me, but it was much easier. It really didn’t even feel like climbing, after the Corby St. madness.

More climbing

Rolling fields

Barn, with a strange military-looking truck

As I climbed, it got colder and the road got snowier and icier. But it wasn’t anything the Trucker couldn’t handle, even though it still simply has the stock tires.

Icier road

Riding

Eventually, my GPS beeped and the screen said I was approaching Mountain Road. This I knew to be paved. Riding got easier after this point, although I had a lot of fun on the gravel roads. I had a little bit of confusion at the intersection but eventually figured out which way to go.

West to Mountain Road

I took Weaverton Road for a while, which had a few ups and downs. I was still riding toward the sun, and apparently here they’d had an ice storm. The trees here were covered in ice, and the power lines crackled as they swayed in the wind, breaking the ice. Bits of ice crunched under my tires, having fallen from the trees, and the crystalline branches refracted the sun’s rays, creating quite a spectacle.

Ice-covered trees, becoming prisms

Orange sunlight (the camera captured it this way)

A bend in the road

I came to an unmarked intersection and took a moment to figure out which way to go. I made sure to snap a photo of a “Mountain Rd.” sign; surely I can use this for something.

Mountain Rd

The quiet road meandered a bit before plunging down into the valley. Near the beginning of the descent I passed a house where members of the Wyoming Valley Mountain Bike Association were wrapping up a ride. I figured it must have been them, and waved. I later verified that it was, in fact, them.

I don’t normally stop to take photos while I’m descending, but this time I did. There were some great views of the valley on my way down the mountain. It was a long, steep descent of nearly two miles, and I was glad I hadn’t gone up that way. Now that would hurt. It’s amazing bombing down the mountain and coming around a turn to see the valley open up below you.

Icy trees by the power lines (Is this where they do the Chinese Downhill?)

A few rolling hills before the plunge

Panoramic view of the valley from Mountain Road

A closeup of part of the view

Hill – Trucks use low gear

The road drops steeply at several points

Another great view

It’s a bit of a struggle to focus on the road with these views ahead of you. With all the curves, and the sand on the road, I took it very slowly and probably only hit 30 mph. I can’t imagine how fast you could get going if you really let loose.

Now most of the way down, but still some great views

I rode across part of the valley I haven’t really seen before, parts of Plymouth and Edwardsville. I took back roads; some people seem to ride on Wyoming Ave / Route 11, but it seems awfully busy to me.

I had a couple of interesting incidents as I rode back toward home. First a guy was out talking to some buddies and recognized me, saying “I saw you taking photos at the top! Long ride down?” Of course the only response could be “The ride down was quick, the ride UP was long.” Funny that he recognized me.

A few blocks later I saw some kids out riding BMX bikes, and struggling up a small hill. I flew past and one of the kids’ jaw dropped and he said, simply “Woah!” It’s obvious people don’t see a lot of serious cyclists around here and this is the second time a kid has seen me and reacted like I was some kind of superhero. It’s flattering, but mainly I hope they are impressed enough to ride more themselves. I probably could have stopped and said something, but I pressed on.

Tank

Residential scene

Run-down garage

Somewhere around Plymouth/Edwardsville

Another interesting, somewhat run-down building

This was an incredible ride, and what amazes me most is that it was only 16.5 miles. In these mountains, a 16-mile ride can feel almost epic, and I was gone for about two hours. Of course, it had some 2,000 feet of climbing, so that is part of the equation. But there was such a variety of scenery (urban, rural, mountainous, steep, flat, dry, muddy, icy, paved, unpaved, agricultural, residential, industrial) that I felt like I had ridden much further.

Poor traction

I already replaced the Kenda Blue Groove I had on my front wheel with a Panaracer Fire XC Pro, on the advice of my closest bike shop, Main Bike World. I’ve only done one ride on the new tire so far, but it worked very well. Now, I’ve noticed the rear Kenda Nevegal isn’t gripping too well. It’s fairly worn anyway.

Possible solutions: Get another Fire XC Pro (2.1″ wide) to put on the rear wheel. Or, get a Fire FR (2.4″ wide) for the front, and move the 2.1″ tire to the rear wheel. I’m leaning toward getting the wider tire for the front; I haven’t needed it yet but once the snow gets deeper, I think I will need it.

Clipless pedal problems

My Shimano SPD cleats are always getting leaves, mud, snow, and ice stuck in them, often to the point where I can’t clip in at all, or I randomly come unclipped. It’s infuriating. I am constantly having to bang my shoes on the pedals to try to get anything caught in the shoes to fall out. It’s especially bad when I have to push my bike for a while; when I try to get back on the bike, my shoes are clogged.

Cold feet – even with shoe covers, my feet get cold.

Possible solution: Put platform pedals on my mountain bike. I switched to platforms on the road when I got the Trucker, and I love the ability to wear any shoes I want. I’ve been sticking with clipless pedals on the mountain bike, and prefer them in general. For winter, going with platforms would allow me to wear my hiking boots, which keep my feet warmer and won’t get so clogged with snow and ice. Bonus: I have an extra pair of platform pedals laying around.

I awakened Sunday morning to some of my least favorite riding conditions: temperatures hovering just above freezing, and steady rain. I’m not a big fan of riding in the rain, but it’s especially bad when it’s that cold. And, I’d rather have snow than cold rain. Snow doesn’t usually soak you as much, and is a lot more fun.

However, I was hopeful. I was heading to higher elevations, and I hoped that there would be snow in the park. I wasn’t really expecting much from these trails; I had read there were maybe 5-6 miles of them, and of all the places people in the area had suggested riding, these trails hadn’t come up once. But, they are just about 6 miles away. Now that’s convenient!

When I arrived at the park, I found that the precipitation on the mountain was closer to sleet than rain, and there was a thin coating of snow on the ground. This was definitely preferable over the rain in the valley. I saw a couple other riders leaving as I was arriving.

Here is a map of my ride. It was about six miles long with about 1,000 feet of climbing. Note: for some reason, not all the photos are showing up on this map. I can’t fix it now, but I wonder what’s up.

View Larger Map

Light snow by the trailhead

Almost immediately, I had to get off to walk a large log pile. I might have attempted it if the logs weren’t coated in snow and very slippery. The trail followed the edge of the lake for a while, offering some fantastic views. There was a thin layer of ice covering the lake, and it was a wonderful dark and dreary day. However, the trees helped to shield me from the sleet quite a bit. I was a lot more comfortable once I was in the woods.

View of the lake from the trail

One of many log piles on this trail

Frances Slocum Lake

It took a long time for me to find my groove. The trails were riddled with rocks and log piles, and at first I wasn’t sure how good my traction was, so I didn’t even attempt some of the technical parts. At other times, I choked during climbs, thinking my rear wheel was going to spin out under me. I soon realized that in fact my rear wheel wasn’t spinning out — I wasn’t even giving it a chance. It seemed as if surely these wet/snowy rocks would be too slick for my tire to grip, but that proved not to be the case. I love the rear tire on this bike (Kenda Nevegal). If anything, it was probably overkill in Indiana, but I was glad to have such an aggressive tire on this ride.

While I was a little frustrated with my performance at first, I soon came to appreciate the design of these trails. Obviously, a lot of work has gone into them, and there were numerous features that looked impossible but proved to be quite ridable, and even more exhilarating. I could also tell that if I could just find my rhythm even the technical parts would flow very well.

A scary-looking, but ridable, rock-armored creek crossing

The trails were blazed in different colors, but there were no signs with the trail names on them. I had printed a map, and was glad to have it, but I decided early on to follow the existing tracks on the trail. I figured whomever rode here before me probably knew where they were going. I could always get the map out if I got turned around.

I had a bit of climbing to do, but it wasn’t too bad. The trail followed some strange old stone walls for some time.

Me

Stone walls

Suddenly, the trail spit me out in a clearing, with some decent views of the surrounding land. The trail also got smoother, faster, and flowed better, for a while. I was really enjoying myself.

Riding through a clearing

There was a significant amount of climbing, but it never felt like too much at once. It was broken up by short descents and other fun stuff. This was one of those rare rides where it seemed like I got to do more descending than climbing. I knew that wasn’t so, but it sure felt good, regardless.

By the time the trail started throwing technical challenges at me again, I had found my groove, and I had a better sense of how much traction I had in these conditions. I tackled the rocks, and roots, and log piles more aggressively. I was clearing most things and having a blast doing it. I still had to walk a couple of bigger log piles, and there was one section with four log piles in a row that was just too much. But overall I was riding very well, even flowing over huge stretches of rocks, and liking it.

This entire section of trail was armored with rocks

Snowy tire treads on rocks

Tricky creek crossing

Fast, flowing trail

Several log piles in a row

Now that’s fun!

After a long climb and another fun descent, I found myself back by the lake. I paused to take some photos and just enjoy the scenery.

Log piles on the way to the lake

Frances Slocum Lake

Fern

Moss

Another shot of the lake

I rode back to the car, but quickly decided I was going back out. Incredibly, I had ridden less than four miles at this point. It felt like a lot more, but I still felt great and there was a trail I hadn’t ridden on yet, and I wanted to check it out.

I appreciated the first part of the trail more the second time around. Some of the log piles were still more than I wanted to attempt, but I did much better on the rocky stuff, and generally kept my speed up. I reached the trail I wanted to see and followed it. It was a bit less technical than the main trail, but I had a lot of climbing to do, and a whole lot of roots interfering with my efforts.

Rocks and roots

More flowing trail

Boulder

My bicycle, resting against the boulder

I got a little turned around and thought I had gone the wrong way. The arrows of sorts on the trees were a little hard to follow at times. The trail got very steep and I left my bike to go explore on foot. The trail I wanted seemed to go in two different directions, so I wasn’t sure what to do. I went back to my bike and went the other way, but I soon found myself back at the main trail. I headed back and went up the steep climb, which required some walking. Once I finished that climb, I had a lot of fun descending ahead of me. I didn’t take many photos during this section; I was having too much fun! I went by the clearing again, which had even better views this time around, and the trail turned into a gravel path for a while. It wasn’t as challenging, but I appreciated the fun and easy riding for a few minutes. Around this time the rain started in earnest, although I stayed fairly dry thanks to the trees, except during the clearing.

Wide gravel trail

Looking down at my rear wheel

Reaching the clearing again

There were still a few technical challenges ahead of me, such as a rooty drop down to a rock bridge creek crossing, and loads of rocks toward the beginning of the trail. But I was riding better than I had the whole ride. I found my rhythm and floated over some pretty rough stuff a lot better than I thought I could. But in the midst of all that were more flowing sections of trail. These trails strike a great balance between the technical sections and fast sections where you can really let loose.

Dropping down to a creek crossing, then climbing immediately back up

Easy riding alongside the lake

My bicycle by the lake

Bike by the trail

Parting shot of the lake

I got back to the car, and discovered it was raining harder than I thought. Almost immediately upon exiting the woods, I thought to myself, “this is miserable!” And indeed, the conditions seemed worse for the rest of the day than they did during my ride. Partially, they were (it got rainier), but also, being out in the woods on my bicycle kept me physically warm, and mentally comfortable. This was a great ride, on a day in which I easily could have just stayed home (and a day on which road riding would have been miserable).