Just Off Center

As the week goes on I’m getting more and more excited about my impending trail hike with Nina and Sam. I’ll explain. Nina and Sam have agreed to go on a hike around Pass Mountain with me this Saturday morning. I’ve been on this trail before, and it damn near claimed me. But I’m confident that, on foot, the three of us will have an amazing time.

A few weeks back, before I spent two weekends traveling, I was supposed to go trail riding with coworker Mike. As expected, when I met him for breakfast in the cafeteria he flaked out. It’s the same every time. He’d sit down, ask how I’m doing, pause, and then say ‘Dude, I can’t go’. Well this time I was really looking forward to a good ride. And since he hasn’t exactly been a model friend I was running out of patience with his bullshit. So I told him that he could go and that he would go. He threw out excuses, each more lame than the one before and even easier to put down. Finally, I just told him that I had expected him to cancel anyway, but that I’d go it alone.

After breakfast I started thinking about which trails I would ride that afternoon. I didn’t want to go to an unfamiliar park, so I decided to stick to the trails in the Usery Mountains Regional Park that we usually ride. But then it occurred to me that while Blevens and Moon Rock trails were fun, and offered some endurance and technical challenges, there was still one trail that I hadn’t conquered.

Behold the glory of Pass Mountain Trail! This 7.1-mile loop running around Pass Mountain, the highest and most noticeable peak in the Usery Mountains Regional Park, is easily the most difficult ride in the area. It starts out at a campground site, at the entrance to a 1.8-mile peak hike called Wind Cave Trail. From there it starts getting choppy right off the bat. There are wicked turns and dips every hundred feet, all leading up to a 700-foot climb to the highest point. And let me tell you, 700 feet is a lot of climbing to do, especially if you’re a novice cyclist riding on a $300 Trek 4300 with original components.

As you climb, the mountain continues to turn until you are no longer in view of civilization. The view is extraordinary. Unfortunately, this also means that civilization has no visibility of you either. Once on the other side of the mountain you’re on your own. No water, no rescue, no escape. The thought of conquering this giant piece of volcanic ruff was so intense, that I could barely work at all that day. All I could think about was getting off and tearing that trail down. I skipped out about twenty minutes early and made my way to the trailhead. When I got to the entrance of the park, the man who took my $5 entrance fee told me that I’d had just enough time before dark to do the Wind Cave Trail, but that I should hurry. Then he wished me a good hike. I thanked him and drove my Lumina down the road, Trek 4300 and delusion of grandeur in tow.

About 40% through the trail, I was screaming and cussing like a sailor. I couldn’t manage to stay on my bike for more than a few seconds without encountering some obstacle that I just couldn’t negotiate. For the most part, I attributed this to the bike being a piece of shit. I verbally abused it for its inadequacies. I must have walked my bike nearly half of the entire trail. I suppose I could have better heeded the article I’d read claiming that cyclists aren’t really allowed since this one jerk off died. I was sore, exhausted, and hot, and I hadn’t quite made it half way around.

Then after riding a good 200 feet I reached two large rocks that I couldn’t wedge my tires between correctly. I pulled my left foot out of my pedal cage and tried to step on the ground, but there was no ground to be stepped on. I lost my footing and fell off the trail and about twenty feet down the mountain’s ever steepening face. I would have sworn that I’d broken my left leg. My left calf cramped up like a brick. I’d slammed my head into a rock, scraped my knee up, and scratched skin off the rest of my legs and a couple fingertip pads. I quickly assessed the damage, pushed my bike off my legs, and sat up on a rock to re-center myself. With no real knowledge of how far along I was I had to assume that I’d already passed or was very near to the 50% point and that I should just continue to the end.

About another mile down the single-track path I was pretty well over hurting from the fall and the blood from my knee had clotted. I passed a couple short, thin hikers coming the other way who congratulated me on making it so far on a bike. It was good to see another human being with the sun quickly setting on the other side of the mountain.

Once I made it all the way around the backside of the mountain it was time for the descent. The first portion was unnavigable for me due to its steep angle, sharp turns, and butt-puckering falls that would occur if I failed. So I walked it down to a less steep point and hopped back on. From this point all I could do was pull off the saddle, lay on my brake, and try not to wipe out. The track was entirely covered in loose rocks, making it hell on my spine, given the mediocre shocks on my hard-tail. But it was the most fun portion too. I had already eaten shit hard, so that fear was gone, and the speed added a cool breeze and some excitement. It was another couple miles before the trail evened out and returned to mostly dirt.

With only a mile or so to go I was walking my bike again, this time due to muscular exhaustion. I was dehydrating and had run out of water in my High Sierra a while back. My bike was torn up from all the laying down and falls I had. My left pedal cage was busted, the frame scratched to shit, the brake line was loosening from the constant use, and the tires had lost some air fro the impacts. But after a bit, I saw a manmade structure in the distance. It was the restroom that I’d changed my clothes in when I arrived. I’d made it! I was alive and a better rider from the constant, though all in all I’d have to say the mountain won. I saw the hikers again finishing their hike and smoking cigarettes. They shook my hand and kept walking down the road. I piled both my bike’s and my own remains in the Lumina and headed home. I remember saying when I started the engine that it’d be a long time before I attempted that again. About halfway home I started wondering what I’d do differently next time. By the time I got home I was planning a second run within the next couple months.

I’ve almost completely healed from my bumps and cuts now. And rather than risk myself like that again, I’ve decided to take Pass Mountain on foot this time. So this Saturday, Nina, Sam and I are going to hike the trail. I’m really excited about it. Nina says that the 7.1 miles should be easy for her since she walks so much. It’s the 700-foot climb and descent and the need for sure and strong footing that worry her. Sam was talking all big a couple days ago, saying he climbs ladders and shit every day so this should be a piece of cake for him. Nina told me today that he told her he’s worried about the hike. I suppose I’m just supposed to think he’ll break the mountain down and carry it home in his pocket. I’d rather he stopped talking big and prepared for the reality of this hike accordingly with sufficient water, stretching, light cardio, and carbo-loading.

Regardless, this hike is practically all I can think about. I can’t wait to show them the view from the other side and watch my tootie prove to herself that she’s still a badass. After the hike, our neighbor is having a cookout that he’s invited us to. Barring any serious injuries, this could be a really great weekend. I’ll post pics next week.

# posted by Mike @ 12:43 PM