Having already admitted to being a View Snob, there is yet another confession I must make. When it comes to downhill, I can be a bit of a snob as well. My downhill snobbery isn’t as bad as my view snobbery, but when it does rear its head, that’s when you best get out of my way.
Being the self appointed photo journalist for all our cycling trips means lugging along the bulky and awkward DSLR and stopping constantly for photo ops. Instead of riding for the sake of riding, I find myself in a non-stop mode of analyzing the trail and scenery through the camera of my mind. How can I shoot this rider in a way that captures the moment, scenery, and emotions in a new and interesting manner? By the latter end of our trip, however, my selfish side comes out and I’m ready to ride the trail for ME, sans camera.
Of course, I still end up seeing the ride as through the lens and thinking, “agh, I knew I should have brought the camera.” But in the long run, it ends up being a freeing time of just riding and letting go of that insatiable desire for picture taking. Hi, my name is Polly, and I’m a photoholic.
Downhills are the worst when it comes to vying for my attention. Who wants to stop in the middle of a blastin’ run just to capture someone else having fun?!!!! Not me! I want to be right there in the thick of it bombing down the trail. By our 6th ride of the trip, the selfish snob in me came out. I was going to ride without the camera and get as much out of the downhill as possible.
Our next to last ride was going to be a repeat of Porcupine Rim. We already did this ride earlier in the week, but the shuttle only took us as far as LPS and we chose to ride on up to UPS to enjoy as much of this fabulous trail as we could. Now 3 days later we hear that the Kokopelli trailhead was open, so we were thrilled to jump at the chance for another go at it from further up.
This is the trailhead of which I speak. It was a beautiful day without a cloud in sight. However, it was cold as crap. I’m talking freezing cold. I guess that was a blessing in disguise, because frozen mud is always easier to navigate and it was still a bit messy up there from the recent snow. I knew if I could suck it up and suffer through the first few miles, we would descend to warmer tolerable temps and the sun would thaw me out.
That’s not powdered sugar dumped on the roadside, it’s mounds of snow. Actually, there was a lot less snow than there was last year, but it was a heck of alot colder. I used that excuse to don my new knee pads, they would provide much welcome warmth for my legs. In 20+ years of riding, we’ve never used any knee pads, but this time Raja insisted we start using them. Sure, whatever. It might make me look cool and give me a false sense of security so I’d go faster!
If you’re paying the least bit of attention, you are asking yourself, “I thought she said she wasn’t taking the camera?” Yes, I did leave the camera at the condo. The DSLR. I always have the little Canon point n shoot with me and don’t even count that as a “camera” in the sense that it requires minimal effort on my part to use. Seriously, you think I wouldn’t document it at all?!
The beauty of a compact camera is one can take a picture while riding without ever even having to stop and majorly disrupt the ride. And even if I do stop, it only takes a nanosecond and I’m back pedaling while putting the camera back in its holster at the same time. Not to mention, this weighs about 3 lbs less than the DSLR. My back was loving it.
The first few miles are almost all downhill with jaw dropping views ahead. Although my eyes were watering badly from the frigid air, I could make out the beautiful crisp scenery. I’ve seen this a number of times, but it’s always new and fresh to me like the first time.
As gorgeous as it was, all I wanted to do was get to UPS where I knew it would be warmer. I couldn’t feel my fingers and my nose was about to freeze off. Brrrrr!!!! Thank goodness I brought along a pack of chemical toe warmers to sneak in my shoes. My feet were happy!
Bam, in no time flat, we were on the singletrack and it was time to fly. This is such a FUN section of trail of twisty rocky singletrack and a couple of steep fast slickrock sections. I put my stomach on the saddle, looked ahead and let ‘er rip. It’s like a rollercoaster ride!
I get nervous that I’m going to be so caught up in the stunning views that I’ll come around one of the turns and just go sailing off the cliff. It helps to have a rider ahead of you to follow and keep your senses on track.
Before I could blink we arrived at the Notch. That meant UPS was over and LPS was quickly coming to a close. It’s all so much fun, but it seems to go by faster and faster each run. Darn it, I want it to go on for a while.
On our shuttle ride up, Raja had commented to me that the group of downhill buddies in the van behind us would probably ride the Notch. “Well I don’t want to watch that if they do,” I said. I’m thinking that I don’t have the nerves to watch someone attempt to ride that and crash. I’m not a big fan of watching people crash.
Sure enough, as we hike down the Notch, one of the guys is picking out the line to ride. Paparazzi mayhem ensues as everyone gets their video ready and stakes out a spot to capture the insanity. “He’s going to try it, he’s gonna do it, let me know when he’s going,” are the messages ringing out and the air is abuzz with excitable tension.
Well, figures. The day I choose not to bring the DSLR. Oh well, the little Canon will have to do. I find the only 2 mm of level terrain to perch and hope I’m not about to document the perilous fate of a fellow rider.
Someone shouts out, “We’re rolling,” and all eyes grow big as we look on in stunned silence. I’m thinking he’s not really going to pull this off. Seriously, how can you do this?! I’ve seen a video of it being successfully ridden, but still could not comprehend it all. What are the odds that I would be a witness to this?! Never ever thought I’d see the day.
Those little point n shoot cameras are hard for me to capture sequential shots. Without a view finder to use, as on a “real” camera, I just aim it where I think it needs to be and hope for the best. Without much real estate in this precarious spot, I’m practically on top of the guy and have no idea if I’m even close to the target.
A deafening roar erupts and the crowd goes mad. He made it! He pulled it off! Ty did what I thought was impossible to do! I couldn’t believe it. As if he knew I couldn’t believe it, he did it again. A second time! Crazy, I tell ya!
His success spurs on more of the downhillers to give it go. Troy made the drop in, but had a hard time making the right turn transition further down. The fact that he even had the guts and talent to pull off the first half is mind boggling to me. What a thrill it was to watch. I began to relax a little after I realized no one was going to die.
I can now understand the drive these guys had in trying to make this work. Even in my small world of downhill drama, I relate to the rush and the thrill of finding the flow and pulling it off. So much of it is in your head. Raja had just read in a magazine about these manuevers, you look at the obstacle ONCE and then focus on the landing/exit, you never look at the obstacle again. That’s some mighty strong control one must have over one’s mind for it goes against every ounce of self defense a body has. But that’s what it takes. The best downhill snobs know how to do it.
The other part I enjoy about watching riders try new tricks is to see all the camaraderie take place. A group of strangers can come together in an instant, encouraging each other on and showing support. No one got heckled or shamed for not pulling it off. It was just one big ole “you can do it” moment.
After watching the show for probably close to an hour, riders peeled off slowly to get back to their ride. There were miles and miles of trail still ahead calling our names.
There is no downhill quite like Porcupine. It is a must ride trail for any mtn bike enthusiast. I try to post as many photos as I can to give you a taste. I can rave about it all day long, but you still need to get out there and try it for yourself.
The LPS section ends right at the all too familiar lookout point we’ve all seen in the pictures. I’ve been to this spot well over a dozen times and each time I stare around in wonderment as if I’d never seen it before. This is where the original Porcupine Proper trail climbed up to and now it’s merely a little eye treat in the middle of a downhill candy store.
After a quick celebratory pose, we were off again. Now the trail is doubletrack with loads of rocks and little ledges. So far I had thoroughly enjoyed going full speed ahead focusing solely on the ride and with no concern over photo ops. The selfish downhill snob in me was growing stronger by the mile. I wanted more.
Soon thereafter, our paths coincided again with the downhill posse. Raja stood aside to let them by, but I wanted none of that. Here was my chance. To ride caboose on a train of true downhill gangstahs is a sure bet for a rip roaring good time. Slipping casually in behind the line of riders, I hooked on for the ride of my life.
Riding in the wake of their flow was a blast! You can always ride faster and smoother when following riders a class better than you. It’s the motivation and challenge I need to become a better rider. When an opportunity like this comes along, I become a full on snob and will ditch my riding partners in a New York minute. Raja is use to my antics, so I knew he wouldn’t miss me. We’d hook back up eventually. This was my time!
Lest you think a downhill snob equates to a big headed idiot, don’t worry, I did not lose my mind and think I had somehow become a World Champion rider. On the contrary. In this situation, one’s senses become heightened and you are very aware of your smallness in this universe. One stupid move and my vacation would come to a screeching halt. No, a downhill snob knows her limits. I was merely using their energy to dig a little deeper and push myself a little further out of my comfort zone. This would be a run I’d remember for a long time.
I had picked out a spot in my mind where I’d back off from the train and wait for my group. As if by magic, the downhill crew stopped as well in that very place. Someone had a flat. My heart was thumping and I was pumped from the thrill of the run.
Look at that view! Secretly I was glad they had stopped. This is one of my favorite spots on the trail because you can see forever.
And when you turn around, the LaSal Mountains are looming behind you. I can’t decide which direction is more beautiful.
Soon my band of 3 men appeared and we regrouped. We left the downhillers to their bike maintenance and continued on down down down. The best part is yet to come. That’s saved for the very very end. 3 miles of beautiful singletrack downhill. Every snob’s dream!
Raja was in the zone and making every move perfectly. Feeding off his ride, I tried to keep the rhythm going to pull off the drops and tricky spots. It’s amazing how the trail can change in just 3 days. Just the movement of a little rock can change an approach to an obstacle. You remember those details when you get into downhill snobbery mode.
There’s one other hike-a-bike section in the last mile of the singletrack. If it has a name, I don’t know it. LPS has its Notch, but this we always refer to as the “bad section”. We had let our downhill buddies start the singletrack ahead of us so we wouldn’t get in their way, so when we approached the bad section there were a handful scoping out a line to ride.
This place is just as incomprehensible to me for riding as the Notch, but these guys made it look like a paved walk in the park. The photo above does not capture the intensity at all, but we know it’s there. Anyone that has walked this section knows how challenging it is. Again, what a treat to see them ride it with ease!
And so, all too soon, the joy ride is over. You know it’s about to end and there’s nothing you can do but savor every second.
That bittersweet scene comes into view. The river, the cars, the parking lot, the end of the trail. The downhill snob within slithers away and you smugly bask in the glory of another glorious Porcupine run. Your arms are tired, your back is tight, and your body has taken a beating, literally, for over 2 1/2 hrs. You’d do it again that afternoon, but your raging appetite says otherwise. Nope, move over downhill snob, it’s the ChowDown Snob time!
Thanks to my favorite riding partners for yet another fantastic ride. Hope you don’t think I was too big of a snob;-)
Camp Georgia enrollment is at an all time high. At every turn it seems there is a newbie joining the fold. Our latest addition (gotta keep up cause it changes by the second) is Tom, and he is quickly proving himself worthy to wear the Camp colors. (uh, what are our camp colors? oh yea, Red! Swiss Red, of course!)
Camp Hillseeker is fast approaching and Raja and I are ill prepared. With no mountain pass rides under our belts, we are hysterically scrambling to cram in as much training as humanly possible. Counselor Gustav has become an Int’l CrossFit guru and Counselor Buggy is a champion Ironman. Therefore, it would behoove us to at least get in shape on the surface and then we will fake the rest.
If we go to the gaps now, we prefer to do these beautiful routes and the back gaps, leaving the front gaps to the traffic and on-a-schedule athletes. One of the bigger attractions for me is to spot the fun street names. They always make me laugh, even if I’m hammering up a climb.
In the beginning as we ticked each gap off the list, first Neels, then Craigs, Tom became a bit apprehensive about continuing on with us. No, we weren’t going to let him off that easy. With a “what the heck, you only live once” attitude, he resolved to do it all.
Hitting Hicks gap, the campers started to whine. Immediately I knew what had to be done. Time for the happy talk. Years ago, at our first Camp Hillseeker, it was made clear to us that whining would not be tolerated. No matter how miserable or desperate you are, you cannot complain. Why? It won’t change things and certainly doesn’t help, so why do it?!! Instead, you “sing” the camp song.
That makes me think of an encounter Cary Lowery and I had while riding the Snake Creek course. We came upon a rider having an absolute mental breakdown. Curses ripped through the air as we silently and quickly sped by him. Not what we wanted to hear. It was downright scary. That fella could have used some happy happy happy therapy!
Thank goodness my campers were all happy fellers. It was a gorgeous day (in a 92 degree hot and humid kinda way) and the scenery was soothing to the soul. 75 miles and 5 hrs later, we rolled up to the cars. Sweat was rolling down salty faces and legs were on the verge of cramping, but Tom wore a big ole smile. We were all smiling, Tom, Joe, Ony, Raja and I.
