Took last week off and headed north. Got up to Ashland, OR for some high quality theater and general amusement, meeting family members from further up in the PNW who had headed south. After skipping a couple of years for dog-related issues, it was nice to enjoy some time with relatives, and the pace and setting of this little burg.
The location comes with some excellent areas to ride. Although most of the rides start with a steady climb, the trails are robust, the roads enjoyable and there is even a lengthening pathway/greenway by the river, if you just want to enjoy some car-free time.
I ended up with a number of matinee tickets this year (and you don‘t try to show up late at the door of an Ashland theatre…), and what with social get-togethers in the evening, it was not a week of epic rides. Snuck out once (starting a bit later than planned), climbed until I got cold and figured that making a loop that I’d envisioned would have to wait for another trip.
But, it’s one of those vacations where you get to walk everywhere, and my wife and I got some nice hikes up through the gardens and parks. The week ended with glorious weather (after sitting through one of the colder evenings ever spent in the outdoor theater earlier.)
There were a few bike-sightings of note - a fellow walking a classic orange Bridgestone XO-1, a quiet-looking Davidson which someone had converted into a townie with Albatross-style bars - but one thing which kept cropping up was the uniformity of mountain bikes. The watershed to the west of town has an excellent network of trails which seem to be less of a secret than in years past. Over a few years, I’ve watched these evolve from penciled-in notes on a sketchy trail map to become formal, maintained trails with a fairly high level of technical challenge in places.
When the weather turned nice late in the week, a steady stream of mountain bikers rolled down into town via the roadway next to Lithia Park. Or maybe, the same mountain biker rolled down quite a few times. The similarity of hardware was quite striking.
Now, it may be that I just don’t notice things back in my home town. I rarely go on a “mountain bike” ride in which I select a multi-geared, smaller-wheeled, knobby-tired, suspension-assisted bicycle. It’s more likely that I’ll go on a ride, rolling out on my fat-tired bike (700C/622 x 33 1/3), which happens to be the bike I usually ride (Quickbeam or Hilsen) and then veer onto trails or paths or fire roads as my whim guides me. If someone asks if I have a “road bike”, it’s not a simple question to answer.
So, it’s quite possible that everyone on the trails back in the SF Bay Area is riding exactly the same bicycle which came buzzing into town up in Ashland, but I don’t really think so.
Full-suspension, long travel forks with the front wheel kicked waaay out in front. Short stems and the rider back and upright. To my eye, they looked choppered, with the dimensions striking me as oddly as I can remember. The gap between the front wheel and the downtube of the frame was particularly roomy. Large hub-mounted discs abounded, as did a plethora linkages and swingarms and all the connections which make up the modern mountain bike. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many Ibises in such a short period of
time, and the Ellsworths and similar brands were well represented as well. Hardtails were not in evidence.
But, it was the consistency of padding and protective gear which really made the image. Rarely did a rider go by without knee and shin guards, and most had arm protection of some sort or another.
And I do understand that bicycle set ups are hugely driven by their environment. The trails up above Ashland are pretty amazingly steep in places, where you descend with the constant threat of full-on, over-the-bars, endo. If that happens, it isn’t just going to be a nose-wheelie flip and flop: you are going to be rag-dolling your way downhill for a long time.
But, I have been up in those hills, and while not professing to have the greatest chops on the trail, the terrain had always suggested climbing with the dessert of descent. Here, the drop back into town seemed to be the only thing on the menu. In fact, parked and waiting back in town were a variety of high capacity carrying racks and trailers, occasionally tended to by a bikey-looking-but-not-on-a-bike guy. The scent of shuttle services was hanging in the air.
Now, I did see folks climbing up from town as well. Not the hordes which came down the mountain, but that could simply have been a quirk of timing. And, unless something has changed dramatically, you still have to climb up from the gates which bar further passage on the fire (access) roads.
Still, it was interesting to muse that my geared mountain bike with its 80 mm of front fork travel - the bicycle I seem to ride the least these days - would be as technologically off the back among this clan as could be imagined. It’s tempting to scrub it up and tune it, so as to make it ready for a return to those trails in the future.
June 17th, 2010 at 5:31 am I am skipping a Cross Crusade race so Sweetie and I can meet her folks there in October. (They’ve gifted us with tix and a hotel room, so it was hard to say no…) I am considering bringing Stompy down to mess around on but I’m not sure there will be time. There IS also a ‘cross race in the area the weekend we’ll be there…
June 17th, 2010 at 5:55 am Funny timing on this post. I was riding my Salsa El Mariachi this past weekend and while it has disc brakes, it is a rigid, steel frame/fork hard tail 29′er w/ a sprung Brooks saddle. Needless to say, it garnered a few “what is that?” type comments. I gave up on supension-type stuff when I realized I would not be “getting large air” at 43 years old in south eastern Pennsylvania (read:No real mountains….)
June 17th, 2010 at 8:09 am beth -
The times I’ve not brought a bike, I’ve always kind of kicked myself. Even if I only get out once. But, our logistics really seem to allow it nicely. The trails are nice, fairly to “whoa!” level technical, but you can also just climb up into the hills on the service roads.
Anon-y-mouse -
I find that I’m reasonably inefficient when I’ve ridden a hinged suspension bike of recent design. All the hours spent unweighting/reweighting the front wheel, leveraging body mass against obstacle, raising up, moving back, etc., is for naught with a modern suspended mtb. There, the best tact is to sit yourself down and let the springs do the work. It’s not that I think one is better than the other - rather, just identifying that they are really different skill sets.