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Somewhere along the line, Raja and I quit taking vacations, opting instead to attend camps in elite locations around the world. Not just any ole camps, but high energy training regimes. R&R is a term of which I’ve heard, yet seldom do I partake. Telling my family we’re going to Hawaii for a week elicits oohs and aahhs and wishes to “have fun relaxing on the beach.” They should know by now, we are not physically capable of lying about relaxing. We must…..be…..doing……..something…….at all times.
A typical day in Hawaii goes something like this: Wake up at 6:00am, gobble down a muffin and throw on some shorts and a tshirt and stumble out the door. Hike 500′ up a ridge to watch the sunrise at 7:08.
Admire the views, hike back down to the beach for a walk.
Stretching exercises by the ocean followed by either a hike, bike, or surf lesson.
 Grab some lunch followed by more hiking, playing in the surf, or a 2 mile walk on the beach. Find a strategic place to enjoy the sunset (which may involve a hike) with a well deserved dinner afterwards.
 Lastly, make a sweep through the stores for chocolate covered macadamia nuts and other treats for the next day’s activities. Head to base camp and collapse into bed. Not everyone’s idea of a vacation, but it’s the only way we’d ever have it.
Of all our activities for the trip, cycling took a back seat for once. Shocker, I know. Since we did not bring our own bikes along, we would have to rent bikes. The bike rental scene on Oahu is not the same as Moab. You don’t get as much bang for your buck and the pickins’ are slim, so you better make it count. We picked up 2 Specialized Allez from The Bike Shop in Honolulu the night before our big day. The next morning, we started out from base camp in Kailua and rode around the south end towards Waikiki.
 The stunning views of the turquoise Pacific made up for the nerve wracking ride alongside the buzz of non stop traffic. The warm air was a welcome relief from rides back home in 40 degree chill. A stiff headwind made us work hard, but hey, I was in a sleeveless jersey and that made me happy.
We have tackled Oahu’s riding scene from about every angle possible. Some years we have taken mountain bikes, other times our road bikes, and we have rented mountain bikes and rented road bikes. Each time we come to the same conclusion, Oahu is not a cycling destination, at least for us. Notice, I did not say you cannot ride or do not ride. Rather, if the goal of a trip is to ride as much as possible, then Maui or the Big Island are the better choice. Nevertheless, Oahu has a few spots and this time we were going for the biggest road climbs we could find.
Raja found a list of the 5 hardest climbs. We were already very familiar with the 3rd hardest, Mokule’ia Access Road. It is on the North Shore and was a good hour drive away. The rest of the climbs were an easy 15 miles away, so that is where we set our course.
Kamehame Drive is 4th hardest on the list and we knew exactly where it was. The volcanic activity on Oahu left beautiful Pali cliffs with just enough room on ridge spines to build streets straight up. Giant mega million dollar mansions line the road and the views rival the house price tags the further up you go. No switchbacks or zig zags, just straight up. This climb wasn’t too hellacious since it wasn’t very long (maybe a mile), but it did make me use the triple ring.
A gate at what seems to be the top of the climb prevents further investigation, although the road clearly continues on up up up. A guard sitting in a car said something cryptic to us in response to our inquiry, and we couldn’t figure out if he was giving us the “I’m not looking, so go ahead” or what. We decided not to fool with it and continued back down for the next climb.
The 2nd hardest climb listed is Halekoa Drive and the bike shop guy gave us fair warning that it was a doozy. A long boring ride from Hawaii Kai towards Kahala eventually led us to the foothill. We began the 2 mile climb wondering if the description we had been given was an exaggeration. It wasn’t.
 Holy smoke, this turned out to be the most intense climb I’ve ever done! It began okay, steep, but not crazy steep. A few switchbacks appeared and the intensity was turned up a notch. The grade seemed to get steeper and steeper with no relief in sight. The bike had no computer, but the gearing was the same as my Trek at home. I tried to gauge my effort in comparison to difficult climbs I know. The obvious comparison is Hogpen. There is a really steep section of Hogpen between miles 4-6. This was worse. The best I could do was stand up out of the saddle and mash the pedals as though walking up stairs. I’m guessing I was going 3mph tops. It just went on and on and on like this for 2 miles. No relief, no change, just steep up. For me, it was brutal (11.52% average gradient).
I always forget during a climb that there is usually a stunning view over my shoulder, but I’m usually too wasted to turn around to take a look. That’s the nice thing about these out and back climbs. For all the pain and suffering going up, you get to enjoy 100% the full on beauty and glory of an eye popping panorama view. I was shocked when we turned around to make the descent. From the Pacific Ocean to Diamond Head to Honolulu, we could see it all. I couldn’t help smiling and exclaiming satisfaction out loud as we came down.
Since that climb was 2nd on the list, this meant the hardest climb left to do (Wilhemina Rise with a 13.6% avg gradient) was even steeper. With no peer pressure to do us in, Raja and I both looked at each other and said, “nay, I can do without another one of those.” No camp counselors were with us on this trip. We were the counselors, and we declared that we had worked hard enough. Besides, we still had to make our way back almost 20 miles and up a few climbs to base camp, in a stiff headwind. By the time we finished the ride, we were famished and wasted. I ate a hamburger. Does that tell you how hungry I was?!!!!!!
 One thing Oahu has an abundance of is hiking. These are not your typical hikes. Maybe you don’t go up a glacier or stay in a hut at 9,000′, but they have their own distinct charm and allure. Most trails start out in the the thick “jungle” with the sound of so many birds calling that it almost feels like a stage set. I adore it.
Lush greenery that hugs the side of the Pali cliff gives way to stunning views, but the trail demands all your attention lest you make a false move and slip to your death. Volcanic rock is nothing at which to shrug. If you were lucky enough to survive a 1,000′ fall, the rock will rip you to pieces. Respect the Pali and proceed with the greatest of care. Not only do you need to use caution over rock, but with roots as well. The roots can be of great assistance when needing a foothold or handhold, but they’ll also trip you up if you’re not careful.
All that to say, if you have a sense of adventure, hiking can be the highlight of a trip to Oahu. It was for me. We went back to the KokoHead trail for a second try. Our first encounter with this epic climb was a couple of years ago and we thought we’d never give it another go. Never say never. It’s certainly a unique climb and I imagine the only one of its kind.
This would be the perfect training tool for Camp Hillseeker. Buggy and Gustav could do daily hill repeats up the 1100′ in less than a mile. It wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to come back down. Knees won’t last forever if you put them through that kind of punishment. We even had a little drama to see during the climb.
Halfway on our way up, we passed by a group tending to one of their hikers that was in bad shape. Taking a quick glance as we went by, I didn’t like what I saw. Her face and lips were white. I was relieved to hear the rescue chopper overhead. The Hawaii Fire and Rescue were earning their keep that day. Three guys were dropped off at the top of the climb while another guy worked his way up from the bottom to stabilize her. The chopper then returned with a basket and whisked her away to the ambulance. No easy way out for the rescue crew though. They had to hike back up to the top, but at least they got a helicopter ride down. 
Of course, Raja was enjoying watching all the helicopter drama. The pilot was whizzing and swooping by up and down, obviously very skilled at his job.
Also at the top, we ran into a guy that was looking for the geo cache. It was our first ever geo cache and we felt like kids on a treasure hunt. Although we had nothing to put in, it was still fun to be a part of the find. It doesn’t take much to amuse us! Next time you’re in Hawaii, do the KokoHead hike. It’s doable, but it makes you work and will give you a great feeling of accomplishment, not to mention the views!
 Of all the hikes we did, the highlight was the Olomana hike. Although it is not listed as an official hike, you can find out how to do it if you dig hard enough. It is not for the faint of heart though, as it involves alot of sketchy climbing with exposed cliffs. A fall here is most definitely fatal, so please be careful!
 All these years of coming to Hawaii I’ve wanted to learn to surf, but never had the guts to try. This was the year to do it. We both signed up for lessons and ventured into the great unknown with Derek Hashimoto as our instructor along with 2 little Japanese girls. With a little instruction in Japanese and then some English thrown in for our learning pleasure, we hit the waves with the rest of Waikiki.
As difficult as it was for us, we managed to get up on the board and ride some waves. I got amused thinking of how this was akin to us learning to ride our bikes on The Silver Comet and getting all excited about it. You couldn’t find an easier place to surf, but it still felt like we had conquered the biggest wave out there.
My knees were literally black and blue and my chest sore from paddling out time after time after time. I wanted to catch as many waves as I could. The adrenaline keeps you going, but once you come to shore it all comes crashing in and you realize how hard you worked. We were like two zombies afterwards and I couldn’t stop eating. Man, if I could live at the beach and be a surfer girl, I’d be in some badass shape.
 This was a much needed trip for me. The past 6 months have been challenging in my life to say the least. Things have changed, in fact, everything has changed. I’ve been staring off the precipice not really knowing where it leads and a bit uneasy with all the uncertainty surrounding me. The ocean is a comforting place, a peaceful haven where worries are drowned out by the constant ebb and flow of the waves washing away my cares. You know that kind of hug from your most trusted loved one, where when you collapse in their arms nothing else in the world matters and nothing can hurt you? That’s how I feel walking on the beach in the warm soft sand to the sound of rhythmic crashing waves. It’s like that hug that goes on forever and ever saying, “everything’s going to be okay.”
I have a love for the ocean like no other place on earth, especially when it’s in Hawaii. Nothing has changed upon my return, but what I do have are warm memories on which to cling. Eventually, spring will arrive here in Georgia, the sun will shine more and colors will burst back on the scene. Then I will dust off my bike and give it a whirl and that’s when I’ll feel alive again. In the meantime, I’ll dream of Camp Aloha. One of the best camps in the world. Aloha!
I have said it countless times, but it always bears repeating, we have the world’s greatest group of cycling friends. In our 20+ years of being in the cycling world, we’ve passed through zillions of phases from newbies to serious racers to washed up has-beens. Through the process we’ve cycled through our fair share of riding groups and none can compare to our current family, our BOD family.
I find it refreshing that such a diverse group of people can be brought together by the single bond of cycling. We have parents, students, professionals, young, old, and everything in between, but we all share that same passion for mountain biking AND laughter. Perhaps that’s what makes this group stand out for me from all the others. Not only do we love to ride, but we love to laugh. It’s not just about performance and training. It’s about enjoying being with each other while having fun on our bikes.
Race venues are a dime a dozen. The scenario never changes. Believe me, we’ve done it long enough to know. Your time in the sun will eventually pass and then what do you have? Where did all those cyclists go? I want folks that will stick by my side through the thick and thin whether I’m on my bike or not. Thanks to this great family, I’ve had just that.
It is hard to find a group of cyclists that can come together regardless of abilities and still be able to have fun together. Throw this crew together anywhere, anytime, with or without our bikes, and we WILL have fun. My life basically fell apart last August and my time on the bike has been rare, but the worst part has been not riding with my BOD family as much as I’d like. Through it all they have been there for me, and we hold onto the hope that 2010 will be better and full of more laughter filled biking adventures.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to my beloved Family! I love you all!
 The freezing cold temps seemed appropriate to usher in St Nicholas Day this weekend, but it wasn’t necessary to put us in the mood for the holidays. I would have been just as merry had it been 50 degrees, in fact, I would have been a whole lot merrier! Despite the bitter chill that cut to the bone, we managed to squeeze in rides both Saturday and Sunday. 
I am still on the “ride once a week” program, so getting in two rides back to back was a shock to the system. Neither ride was stellar for me performance-wise. My fitness is non existent and my pathetic attempt to keep up with anyone makes me wonder why I even bother. Deep down I know exactly why I bother. Regularjoe reminded me as well. I’ll go crazy if I don’t ride. It is the only connection I have right now to keep me grounded. If I don’t, I might do something rash, like….become a shopaholic or a couch potato. Oh the horror of the thought.
If it wasn’t for a good network of friends, I would probably never surface between the months of November and March. Thanks to a little peer pressure, though, I can be coaxed into braving the elements for some two wheeled fun. However, the fun is limited to smaller time increments than our summer fun. Yes, friends make the miserable weather more tolerable, but once my core starts freezing, no amount of laughter can keep me on the bike. When I’m cold, I’m cold and I gotta stop.
Last Saturday at 1:00 it was 38 degrees and dropping for our Blankets ride with Robb, The Captain, and Regularjoe. Our original ride plans started out slightly earlier. At 7am we were driving north for the Snake Creek Time Trial preride. It was 101 degrees below zero and raining lightly.
I must have still been asleep when I got in the car which impaired my ability to make a rational judgment on pursuing this ride. As Raja drove I silently wondered, “what in the %#*& are we doing?” I did not want to do this. Sure the woods would be pretty covered in snow, but the trail would be wet and I was in about the worst shape physically I have been in 6 years. It would be a miracle for me to complete the course if it were dry and 70 degrees let alone these horrible conditions.
Several decades of countless epic winter adventures on bikes in snow, ice, and mud have more than satisfied my desire for adding anymore to the list. I’ve been there, done that. The novelty and allure are long gone for me. I’m old, tired, and grumpy and do not want to buy another drivetrain. Like I always say, “ain’t nobody paying me to ride my bike.” I do it for fun. Back to my original thoughts, “Why the H-E-double hockey sticks are we doing this?”
As we drove through Cartersville, Raja must have had an epiphany as he announced, “We’re not going, I’m turning around.” I said nothing in reply, but inside shouted, “Hallelujah, Whoohoo, He’s come to his senses!!!!” I could not have been more proud of him than I was at that moment.
Back home we saw pictures Ony and Mark had posted of the trail. Just as we suspected, it was snowy, wet, and cold. I was so proud of Ony for hanging tough and going for it. I can appreciate that he’s in the beginning of his journey, and he needs to experience that feeling of accomplishment over conquering such a ride.
We were very pleased with our decision, but this still left us rideless. Surprisingly, Blankets was still open for the day, so Raja made the call for a 1:00 Blankets ride.
Sunday was suppose to be slightly warmer, but it did not feel that way AT ALL. The sun was out, but it wasn’t doing a good job of warming! Tempted to stay bundled up in bed, more friends came to the rescue. Thankfully, Martina was in town. That’s my whirling dervish friend, a nonstop bundle of energy not affected by the cold. She and Cam rode over and Raja took us on one of his “routes in the hood.”
Dec 6th happened to be St Nicholas Day, or Samichlaustag as the Swiss call it. It was extra special to have my Swiss Sis in town with which to celebrate. Cycling is not the customary method of observing Smichlaus Day, but I’m never one to pass up on a reason to make a ride fun and festive. Martina and I are truly sisters in that we share the same passion to make a game out of everything. (We did get in a proper St Nicholas Dinner that evening.)
Again, my ride was pathetic from a fitness standpoint, but I enjoyed being out and playing. It was freezing cold, so I was grateful to have the motivation of friends to get me out there.
With the challenge of this long cold winter looming ahead, I need to get creative in ways to keep my body active. Cue the entrance of Martina. Our friendship could not have come at a better time in my life. Like a tornado, she has blasted onto the scene with her never ending energy, and I feel like her old pet dog trying to learn new tricks as I trail along behind.
Janusz could not have been more pleased when I told him I went swimming with Martina. He supports me in whatever activity I do, but is not overly thrilled with my cycling because of the constant abuse to which my body is subjected. He likes the idea of swimming because it stretches the body and he’s a big fan of stretching. A valid point, indeed. Exercises are constantly contracting the muscles and rarely do we stretch our muscles. They need the counteraction to contraction to work optimally, but nobody wants to stretch. That’s boring and too easy.
On the contrary. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Janusz it is the massive benefit from stretching my muscles. He taught me a nice routine that I try to implement on a daily basis that I sure wish I had learned 10-15 yrs ago. He’s also constantly adding these wicked abdominal exercises to my routine in order to make me as strong as Martina. I made the mistake of telling him I wanted to learn to do all her acrobatic tricks, so now he has me in training for that. He can do all the same moves with his eyes closed and cannot understand why I cannot do them too. Why didn’t I start learning all this stuff when I was in my 20’s?????? Can an old dog learn new tricks? You betcha!
I barely survived my first swim workout in over 10 yrs and am going back for more this wkd. It was brutal, but this did not surprise me. I have the utmost respect for swimmers and truly enjoyed observing Martina in her element. As a competitive swimmer growing up, she has an impressive base from which she can draw at any moment to knock your socks off.
My other new trick to learn is rock climbing. I know that swimming might help me with my endurance for cycling, but I’m not so sure how climbing will transfer to the bike. In fact, it probably won’t at all, but at least it will keep me off the sofa eating bon bons and getting fat.
With Martina in town for the week, I had the rare pleasure of climbing with her tonight. My first experience ever climbing was with her in Switzerland at the DisneyLand of rock climbing gyms and it scared the crap out of me. I vowed I’d never do it again.
Atlanta Rocks is much less daunting to a beginner like myself and I have been going on a weekly basis with Cam. I learned so much from Martina on tonight’s climb! So many pointers and tips that made perfect sense. Perfect for me to understand, but not so perfectly easy to apply. I watched as Martina gracefully and skillfully scaled up the wall and ceiling like spider man. Then I would try. Hmmmmmm. Not so graceful and skillful!
The teacher and student rolls have been reversed in my life. Now I know how it feels for people when I’m trying to teach them skills on a mtn bike. For me, nothing could be easier. I should hope so, after 20 years I better have something to show for it. I have forgotten that it takes time for the verbal understanding of instruction to click and manifest itself through action. I understood exactly what she was telling me to do, but was having a hard time making the practical coincide with the theory.
With constant updates from my friends abroad, I’m in awe of all the crazy tricks they do. It makes me wonder what have I been doing all this time? Riding my bike. That’s all I’ve been doing. Fiola has been racing in the Abu Dhabi Adventure, Jeff ran the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc, and Kate constantly climbs and runs up the Alps.
I need to take a clue from all my highly motivated friends to get off my butt and learn a few things. There will be loads of time to practice my new tricks, because it looks like it’s going to be long winter. A long cold one. My Life on a Bike may be limited, but that will make me all the hungrier for it in the Spring. It’s going to be tough to weather the next 3 months, but fortunately, I have some good friends on which to lean. So, please, keep poking me and make me get out there on my bike, in the pool, or up a wall. No matter how much I kick and scream (and I may bite), keep dragging me out there. If you make promises of hot chocolate I will come willing! Cheers! Here’s to learning new tricks!
(Joe showing off one of his new tricks)
Tucked up in the western edge of North Carolina not far from the Georgia border is a jewel of singletrack fun called the Jackrabbit Trail. Having heard various reports of fellow cyclists riding there this summer, we finally got our chance to check it out this weekend. SABA, along with some other Sorba chapters, called a group ride to show off their handiwork.
We were greeted in the parking lot by Joanna of the Saba chapter, and she showed us the recent article in Dirt Rag about the trails. Check it out! So instead of me butchering all the facts, click on that link to read Joanna’s article.
I’ve been catching alot of slack lately for not updating the blog. Truth is, I’ve been going through an extremely difficult season right now and the blog has been put on the back burner. I have not been doing much riding at all, once a week at best, and almost did not go on this ride. Thankfully, Roger talked some sense into me and got my sleepy head in the car for the 2 hr drive up this morning. Despite the fact that my legs were weak and I suffered greatly the entire ride, I’m glad I went. The Jackrabbit trails are great fun!
We had a big crew and the weather was absolutely perfect. After a month of almost non stop rain, we were all thrilled with the prospect of sunny skies and warm temperatures.
There is not much climbing to speak of on Jackrabbit, but don’t let that fool you into thinking you will not get a workout. It made me think of Florida riding where you never get a break from pedaling. It will work you. The trail is smooth and has fantastic flow so you can go fast, fast, fast!
Mike Riter did a superb job building the 15 mile labyrinth of singletrack that uses every inch of land designated. Skirting the edge of Lake Chatuge will remind one of the trails of Tsali around Lake Fontana. At one point, the trail leads out to the “beach” where you can enjoy picture perfect views of the mountains all the way to the top of Brasstown Bald.
After riding all the trails, we were still ready for more. Roger and I had been chasing the wheel of Brian all morning, a young energetic racer. Being local, he knew all these trails as well as some more that weren’t in the Tour Brochure. A few us took him up on his offer to take us on a bonus ride, and we followed behind him like little ducklings.
This excursion reminded me of our early mtn biking days when the trails were merely faint tracks that went up long climbs and twisted through the trees. Thick leaves covered the trail enough that it was almost a challenge to find the way, so we kept a close lock on Brian lest we lose our way. We finally hooked into the beaten path that climbed up up up and up some more.
We all know how Al feels about hill repeats, so you can imagine what he thought about the climbs. I try to keep my blog G rated, so use your imagination, or you can go to YouTube and see the video he did, “Hitler wants to ride his mtn bike.”
The Captain and Robin were both on singlespeeds, so they had their work cut out for them on this section. The good news is that at the top of every climb a downhill is waiting on the other side. Flying down was fun, if not tricky through all the leaves, but I enjoyed the thrill and for a moment in time forgot all my cares. Thanks, Brian, for the bonus ride! Well worth it!
If you like smooth fast flowy singletrack, then look no more. Jackrabbit fits the bill! Thanks, SABA for another excellent trail system to add to the list! See you on the trails.
The extent of my mountain biking in Europe has been limited to the Trentino/Alto Adige region of Italy. Not to say we do not want to explore other areas, but the opportunity has yet to present itself. Therefore, when Martina offered to show me the fatty tread side of riding in her home country of Switzerland this summer, I jumped at the chance. What could be better than a trip to Switzerland?…..A trip with a native Swiss friend that can do all the thinking, planning, and guiding. All I had to do was show up.
Despite the fact that Cam has an aversion to mountain biking, I coaxed him to come along as my escort. Since I am accustom to traveling with my personal sherpaman, Cam could be my Roger fill-in to carry all my crap. Everyone was convinced we would be at each other’s throats by the end of the 10 days. They were wrong. We got along like dark chocolate and hazelnuts, and Cam discovered that riding on dirt is not all that bad.
Martina dubbed our trip, Camp MountainFinder, and crammed a month’s worth of adventure into a week. Not only were we mtn biking, but also on the agenda was rock climbing, hiking, and road riding. It was like the Swiss Sampler Platter, and it gave me a hunger for more. We took a 3 day trip to the Engadin area of Switzerland for the mountain biking. I could have easily spent the entire week there. The 3 rides we did were enough to whet my appetite and I am already dreaming of a return trip in 2010.
We took the train from Dietikon to St Moritz where we set up base camp at the hostel complete with a huge ski storage room perfect for storing our bikes. Martina and Cam were riding sweet Specialized bikes courtesy of a good friend from Chlösterli Bike Shop, while I had my old trusty Santa Cruz Juliana. Roger dusted off the cobwebs to get it up and running for this very trip. Riding a small bike has its advantages. By removing the swingarm, Roger was able to pack the entire bike, sans wheels, into a regular suitcase. That meant I did not have to pay Delta’s exorbitant bike fee, and if Delta decided to lose or destroy it, at least I wouldn’t be out a super nice bike. The tricky part was finding wheels to use once the bike arrived in Zürich. Lucky for me, I happen to have some generous friends in that neck of the woods kind enough to loan me a set.
The hardest part of a cycling trip is dealing with the bikes themselves. Do you rent or take your own? While it costs a fortune to fly with a bike now, it is also difficult to find and rent bikes locally. Each option presents its own challenges and hassles. However, I have to say that Delta has gone too far these days in regards to flying with a bike. Charging $300 per bike per flight (international) is simply outrageous and has certainly influenced our decision to no longer fly with them. Not to mention, Delta employees have the worst attitudes and customer service of any airline we have experienced as of late. I was astonished at how pleasant our experience was with KLM airlines compared to Delta. Remember to take all these things into consideration when planning your next overseas trip.
With only 3 days to explore the area, there was no time to waste getting settled into our luxurious accommodations. Dumping our packs and changing clothes, we were ready in no time to get in an afternoon ride. Riding on a pleasant tame path that skirted the peripheral of a placid blue lake, we meandered our way off to a doubletrack dirt path.
The lake disappeared over our shoulders as we worked our way to the paved road leading up through the Fex Valley. If ever there was a perfect valley, this was it. A rushing river, majestic snow peaked mountains, and lush green hills rolled out before us like a movie set. It did not matter that we were riding on pavement because the scenery more than made up for the lack of time spent riding on dirt.
Just as I spied a narrow trail cut into the side of the hill disappearing into the trees, Martina directed us to turn that way. Finally, singletrack! It was perfect. It was like riding the fun singletrack of Raccoon Mountain in Chattanooga, Tennessee, only that, well, it was different! Smooth, fun and zippy, my senses let me know I was a long way from the hills of Tennessee. Having way too much fun, I rode ahead of my companions and enjoyed the ride.
Funny how trails can be so similar and yet yield completely different rides. This trail could be a stunt double for many of the ones we have in GA, which goes to show it’s not just the trail itself that contributes to one’s experience. Granted, some trails in the world cannot be replicated. There’s no mistaking a trail in Moab, Crested Butte or Vancouver’s North Shore. However, for the most part, a trail is compromised of dirt, varying degrees of rocks and roots, some twists, turns, and drop offs. Just change the scenery and you can be anywhere you want to be. So, you see, it’s really all the same, just different! Make sense?!
I soaked it all in; the fresh alpine air, the rich shades of green, and expansive views of lakes and mountains peeking through the trees. It wasn’t too technical, just a few techy spots here and there to add some flavor. A lone cow stood off to the side in the grass staring at me as if she were bored out of her mind. Anything but bored, I pedaled on by enjoying the thrill of racing through the trees.
The trails we’ve ridden in Italy are so laden with rocks, that you have to stop periodically to keep your teeth from falling out. I am sure those same trails exist here in Chocolate Land as well, but for today it was smooth sailing. Our brief 3 hr tour was topped off with a hike to investigate a rather impressive waterfall we had passed. Casually mentioning how neat it would be to “see” the waterfall, Chris took me up on it and led us straight up the hillside for an up close and personal look.
In sensory overload from the day’s introductory tour, I collapsed into bed for tomorrow’s big day. Summertime in Switzerland means the sun goes to bed late and comes up early. Morning light was already showing by 6am, but the sun still needed to do some warming up before we hit the trail. What a nice relief from an August morning in Hotlanta where one needs to finish a ride by 9am in order to escape the sun and heat of the day.
It was odd to be donning arm and leg warmers in the summer, but I knew enough about mountains that you always need to be prepared. Alpine riding should never been taken lightly, and being at the mercy of Mother Nature can make for a miserable ride. With my camelbak stuffed to the brim with clothes, food, tubes, and more clothing, there was no room for my camera. The little compact would have to do for our second adventure.
My brain had been working overtime since the moment my feet landed in Zürich, and it was getting crowded in my head. Therefore whenever camp director, Martina, gave our daily activity debriefing, the information got stuck in the backlog falling away, never getting a chance to even enter my ears let alone register in my head. I had no idea what or where we were going to for the day. I just knew we were riding mountain bikes and that was good enough for me. Anything else would be considered a bonus.
Straight from the backdoor of our hostel was a dirt road leading to a labyrinth of paths marked with signs. We followed Martina through the woods in the cool brisk morning air. Making our way to the town of Pontresina, we took a lovely trail that climbed gently upward. Again, it was one of those “could be anywhere” smooth delightful singletrack trails, except for the fact that through the thick Alpine trees, a view through the valley led the eyes up to one of the most dramatic vistas I have ever beheld. A huge glacier wedged snugly in the embrace of snow covered jagged mountain peaks stood boldly in the distance. The immensity of it made it appear as though I could reach out and touch it. Little did I realize, this was the same glacier we had ridden our road bikes right by only a few weeks earlier when we did the Engadin Radmarathon. Only, we did not see it because we had done the descent that day. This time, we were doing the ascent, and you could not help but be mesmerized by the majesty of this sight.
The trail ended in a switchback of the road climb up the Bernina Pass. Stopping to savor the incredible view, we took pictures and gawked along with motorcyclists and motorists. A slim roadie decked out in his colorful kit came cycling by climbing the pass alone on the road. Making a quick glance over to Cam, I could see the longing in his eyes as he watched the cyclist pedaling in a rhythmic cadence. He wanted to be right there with that cyclist riding his road bike and not a mtn bike. He would have his chance soon enough. In a few more days our camp would include 2 days of skinny tire riding. Right now I was right where I wanted to be and feeling quite at ease. Whether I’m in Switzerland, Utah, or North Georgia, mountain biking gives me that contented at-home feeling.
Following the road up, we took a right turn over a bridge to connect back to the trail system. Basically, the trail paralleled the road climb allowing us the same gorgeous views just without the nuisance of traffic. Now we were out in the open with the terrain more barren and rocky. A little river was to the left of the trail, and eventually we crossed a small bridge as the trail climbed bringing us closer to the mountains. The rocks made for fun navigating, not too crazy, but enough to make me appreciate my full suspension.
Random groups of grazing cows were trailside completely unimpressed with our efforts. The obligatory Swiss cowbells, which no doubt annoy the heck out of the cows, provided me and Cam with delightful entertainment. In retrospect, it’s not unheard of to pass cows on a ride back home, but there is something so exciting about hearing that “clankity clank” of a cowbell. Acting like complete nerds, we stopped to take pictures and pet the unamused animals. Apparently, Swiss cows are taught as calves to tolerate tourists and they completely indulged our silliness. I’m quite sure at home we would be stampeded by a Southern herd if we exhibited such ridiculous behavior. That thought made it all the more special.
The trail passed by the Diavolezza cable car then turning to doubletrack and passing underneath a rail bridge where we waved to passengers riding by on a Swiss red train. We were nearing the reservoir and Lago Bianco which lies in a long plateau about 4 km in length at the top of the Bernina Pass. Views of glaciers and craggy mountain tops definitely gave one the feeling of high Alps and all I could do was stare in disbelief as we rode bumpity bump around the lake.
Our companion, Chris, did a good job of hiding his irritation over our continual stops for photo taking. It would appear to an onlooker that this was our first time to ever step foot out of Georgia. It was Cam’s first visit to Switzerland and I was reveling in his delight as well. I can only hope that I never grow weary or bored with the beauty of this land. Each time is like the first time for me and I did not feel the least bit of remorse for holding up our ride over taking pictures.
Passing by the reservoir, views to the south opened up to the expanse of the Bergamo Alps in so many different shades of blue and green that my eyes had a hard time comprehending it all. With the Palü glacier looming over us to the west, this spot just begged for a sit and savor moment. Fortunately, the Belvedere Inn had been placed strategically at the best vantage point from which we could soak it all in while enjoying some heart warming food.
With our appetites satisfied, Martina told me we were about to ride some really fun singletrack that I would really like. Heading down some smooth singletrack through pine and firs, the trail was super fast and I had to keep my speed under check lest I take out any innocent hikers. In the thick woods, gorgeous views no longer vied for my attention and I could focus completely on flying downhill.
Each time the trail passed through a town or crossed the railroad track, it got better and better. Large rocks embedded in the loamy earth stretched out forever down the now very technical trail that took tight switchbacks through thick lush forest. If I did not know any better, I could be riding the rocky techy trails of Pisgah Nat’l Forest in North Carolina.
This was my favorite part of the ride and it seemed to go on forever. Keeping my weight back and down, I let my bike do all the work and found a nice flow. This trail was great fun! Martina was right. I loved it!
As the trail smoothed out a bit more, it popped out to an opening with a stunning view of the town of Poschiavo below. Bittersweet to behold, I knew this meant the blessed downhill was coming to an end.
Down in Poschiavo, we refilled our camelbaks and discussed our options on getting back up the other side of Bernina Pass. We could take the train back to the top of the Pass or ride the road up the Pass. Martina knew her limits (thanks to a year in grad school and little time for riding) and was taking the train, but Chris wanted to tackle the pass. Never one to be outdone, I figured why not add Bernina Pass to my list of Alpine Passes. It would be long and arduous, complicated by the fact that we were on mountain bikes, but I was up for the challenge.
Two long hours later, we neared the top of the Pass. I remembered this last little bit of the climb where it joins in from Livigno since we had done it with Jeff, Becky, Chris, and Heather a few weeks ago. This time seemed a bit slower. Could my fat 2″ wide knobby tires have anything to do with that?
Martina was waiting near the top at one of the last switchbacks, and I could hear her hollering down to us. By now, the 8+ hours of being out were beginning to take their toll and we were tired. We quickly snagged a victory shot with the Bernina Pass sign (btw, the Bernina is the fifth most prominent peak in the Alps and highest mountain of the Eastern Alps). We should have taken the trail back down that we had ridden up this morning, but our stomachs were saying otherwise. The quickest way down was the road and that was the vote that won.
Tucking in single file, we flew down the road passing by Lago Bianco now over our left shoulder. With thoughts of food racing through our head, we almost missed the turn off for Pontresina. In the switchback of the road, we veered off to the right on the trail we had ridden up earlier that morning. It was still just as fun as I remembered it; smooth and zippy with the perfect flow.
Reaching the town of Pontresina, we weaved through narrow streets to the house where SMuP were waiting for us. Thanks to Swiss Mami, we enjoyed a delicious meal outside with a magical view of the mountains and were rejuvenated enough to make it back to St Moritz before nightfall.
The sun had already set as we made our way on the maze of gravel paths leading through the woods and by a small lake. The last light of dusk cast a magical glow on the backdrop of mountains as we rode through the cool night air. Finally, I had experienced my first full on all day mountain bike ride in Switzerland, and we still had one more day left to ride!
I had not known what to expect and found myself surprised that the trails are somewhat the same as those we ride at home. The same, only different; the views, the smells, the sounds, the people, the food, the expanse, the endless opportunities, all the little things that make it special and different.
Every day I find myself daydreaming about that ride. I know there is so much more out there, so many different trails that we’ve yet to explore. We merely scratched the surface.
It was all so wonderfully different. I cannot wait to do it again. Thank you, Martina, for taking me mountain biking in Switzerland!
Take a peek at my slideshow:
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