All posts by bpheasant

Just Outstanding

Another deep sleep after yesterday’s exertions (& not quite as chilly) & I awoke when the dogs were let off at about half past six. Another great meal from Sam – a lot of French toast with a nice dash of cinnamon & other goodies. Decamped & loaded the truck with bikes (I had to borrow a spare Juicy 7 from Bill, my brakes were still faded & it wasn’t the pads) & we all drove in to Kernville & gassed up (running short on gas was a bit of a theme for the weekend). On the way saw my first American bush fire – a spotter plane, chopper with monsoon bucket, countless fire engines (Forestry Service, Bureau of Land Management, Kern Valley Fire Dept & who knows how many other agencies) & a troop of kitted up firefighters crossing the river & hauling a lot of weight up the hill side. It seemed to be relatively out of control – I didn’t get burnt.

From the west shore of Lake Isabella, we drove up to the top of the ridge & past a skifield (it’s strange seeing an off season ski field surrounded by pines – back home it’s usually all rocks), found the trailhead, & left for the lake. With different front brakes I was somewhat tentative hauling in to more great corners, & Irmina was similar with pretty poor rear brakes. Still it was another great trail – more dirt (& therefore more dust – one had to keep quite a distance behind the previous bike to facilitate useful vision) & nice corners & yet more cases of the trail suddenly turning to rocks. It was mostly in trees, so no great vistas – but did get in to this very cool tunnel of overgrown junipers (“I say, those are my juniper bushes”).

Shortly afterwards, we hit another good climb (what is with these climbs when you are going down a hill??) – well practised & not at such an altitude, it was another good middlering grind. I emerged on to a fire road & waited for the others. Apparently we were to follow the fire road down a while & then head in to the trail again. Much to our disappointment we never found the trail again & after riding up hill for a mile or so, trying to find it, had had enough of the sun so we blasted all the way back down to the lake & met Sam. As this was almost the end of our weekend together we got all our belongings in the correct vehicles & headed back to Kernville for a great last meal at some cafe (Sam got out of cooking this time).

Saying goodbyes the others headed back to LA & struggled on very tired north a couple of hours & crashed in some overpriced motel with a very poor shower (I was very much looking forward to ridding my skin of two days’ worth of dust & sweat). I think that may have been the end of my west coast mountain biking – a shame that, I had an absolute blast & really enjoyed the challenge of riding on different surfaces, some good climbs, fantastic downhills, great scenery & best of all riding with some super people that I wouldn’t have met otherwise. A big thank-you to those that shuttled, showed me rides & were just generally good riding buddies.

Cannell Trail

Irmina’s husband Sam turned up at the campsite with their two dogs at four in the morning – he left LA late after work & also managed to get slightly off the best route to Big Meadow. With my two sleeping mats & toasty Fairydown sleeping bag (it was needed, it got down to under 40 degrees – water freezes at 32) I had had a great sleep & dragged myself out of the tent to see what our little campsite looked like.

This is obviously the stream I could hear the night before.

Not the best photo, but we were surrounded by pines – it’s quite nice seeing native pines in the wilderness, as opposed to plantation forests that I’m used to in NZ.

Our small campsite, there was a great fire off to the left that we got a permit for for the second night – greatly helped to ward off the chill. From what I worked out, Sam came along to cook & drive shuttle runs for us – & he did that superbly. We seemed to have a small store’s worth of food & supplies – first up for breakfast was fantastic omlettes cooked on the tray of the pickup. As we generally lazed around quite a bit, by ten o’clock the bikes were loaded & ready to go.

Even though we were a long way up in the hills, we had to back track along the gravel road to the seal & then climb up to Sherman Pass. About ten minutes from our camp on the gravel we spotted a rather large brown bear cub running away from the road – this was quite exciting, I had never seen a bear in the wild before. It was difficult to get a photo of it as we had to stop first – Bill managed this one – if you look closely in the centre you may be able to make out the shape of a bear.

After that excitement, we continued all the way up to the pass (9200 ft). Good views out to Mt Whitney – the highest point in California & the 48 contiguous states. There were a few others up there preparing to ride & then an old school bus with twenty bikes & riders (& only nineteen helmets apparently – do we have a spare helmet? As if.) turned up – we made sure we were ready to go before them (some were either ambitious or just nuts – with over 7000 ft of downhill, there were a couple of hardtails to be seen).

The trail started off as I expected it to go most of the way – downhill, rocky (but also sandy & dusty) & technical.

It quickly became apparent that I would be the slowest on most of this rocky downhill goodness. But I was in for a rude shock – after our first initial down hill, there was quite a bit of climbing & with all the riding I’d done in the previous fortnight I was a bit quicker – nice not to be holding people up. Most of this climbing was on dirt single track through pines & it got steeper & steeper. More of a matter of pride I stayed in the middle ring & grinded most of the way up, but with a few hundred yards to go & my lungs screaming as we got near 10000 feet I succumbed to the granny ring & relaxed a bit. With a few little stream crossings & the increasing steepness, it was nice to have a slightly technical climb. But it was better that it was all worth it.

Soon we were going down again towards our campsite. To start with (I think, it’s a bit of a blur – it all happened so fast) it was nice tight twisty modestly downhill singletrack.

As has so often been the case with my riding here, the grade increased & the trail turned to rocks in a flash & about five minutes later I emerged from a fantastic chute & pretty pleased at how the riding was going. Back to the smoother track & emerged in another pretty meadow.

I waited a while for the others to catch up & after Bill & I waited for Irmina to show up we wandered back up the track a bit. Met the first of the group of twenty coming down & he advised Irmina was looking for brake pad – not a great sign, but better than injury. Somewhere after all the rocks ended, Irmina grabbed a handful of front brake & quickly found nothing. Quick inspection revealed a pad, the spring & the pin missing. She quickly found the spring back up the trail & proceeded to walk up the trail very slowly looking for the pad. Bill & I joined & gave up after about fifteen minutes of staring at too many rocks & too much dust – but Irmina was determined to find it (“If I can find a rock of cocaine – I can find a brake pad” – police training has some advantages, probably many). Bill & I were both carrying spare pads – but for the more common Juicy brakes – not XTR (who has them?). But the missing pad was found after an hour & the brakes reassembled & the missing pin was MacGyvered out of a keyring & it was just like a bought one. Back on the bikes & it was only a few minutes to the campsite, a quick refuel for the Camelbak, move the coolers/chilly bins/Eskies in to the shade (the sun moves – who would have thought?).

From here we avoided the boggy singletrack around Big Meadow & spent a bit of time on fire road before climbing a long steady hill (my middle-ring efforts were humbled by a guy riding up to the top while we were waiting on a singlespeed 29er). We had also picked up another guy, Brad, near Big Meadow – he had been let out & was riding by himself, & just happened on us – he knew Bill & Irmina from somewhere. From the top of the hill, it was down a bit more & then back in to the most rocky & technical climb I’ve done in a long time. Sod the singlespeed – I was pleased to ride the whole thing in middle ring, only stopping once to push around some big rocks & dabbing one other time.

From here it was another great rocky twisty downhill – I was pleased to let Brad past, he was noticeably quicker than me. Can’t remember too much of that section – except it was great again. By now, the sidewalls on my rear tyre were getting a good beating from scraping on rocks – I must have two or three cuts in them now. Due to our brake pad hunt earlier in the day, the group of twenty had passed us (very spread out) & we were now catching them up & passing them. One of their group had an endo & I was surprised to see as we waited at a fireroad that he was riding with an eye patch on!

From here it was through another gorgeous meadow (perhaps the flattest part of the ride) – there were a few rocks to play on at the end of the meadow:

Now we were at the part we were all waiting for – a 5000 ft descent in just 8 miles (1500 m in almost 13 km). Bill & Irmina had been carrying armour all day & now it was on – this had me slightly nervous, I was hoping that the downhill wasn’t too much steeper & technical than what I had already done – I didn’t have any extra protection. I did put my camera in my backpack, so unfortunately don’t have many photos of it – here is one looking down to Lake Isabella (not the best view of the lot) – we ended up only a couple of hundred feet above the lake in Kernville.

So this eight miles was just fantastic. The start was really tight & rocky with a lot of dropoffs & weaving through obstacles at relatively low speed. After a steep uphill push on sand, the trail opened & smoothed a lot & as we were getting lower, the temperature jumped a lot – just as well there was significant breeze. There was about a mile of heaps of choice switchback as we lost much more altitude. About this time, I experienced my first brake fade – not too surprising. A brief rest at one of the gates & the Juicys recovered somewhat. It was almost over, the last part was blasting down a potted dirt track through a meadow taking less than ideal lines trying to pass the people in the big group that had passed us at our last gate stop – great fun. We waited a little for Sam to pick us up & then it was in to town & I was thankfully able to get a gas can & a couple of gallons of gas for my dry car.

Back to camp – by then it was getting on to seven & a dip in the chilly stream to remove all the dust wasn’t so appealing – I think I got to my knees & that was enough. Sam cooked up a storm & I devoured too much salad, a wonderfully divine huge piece of fresh salmon & some excellent steak. Camping in style, what a great day.

Knock, knock. Deatharrrrrrgh

Up nice & early for the 450 mile drive to Kernville to go camping & riding for the weekend. On the road shortly after seven & soon I was in Arizona & it was back to half past six. Rather than go as far as I could on the I-15 & through Las Vegas again, I decided to skirt around LV & then head west so I could go through my third National Park in as many days – Death Valley. It added only twenty or so miles to my trip, but the roads were slower than the interstate. Pulled in to another small town, Beatty (pronouced Bate-ie by the only person I heard say the word) & it was getting hot at 9.30 & I was tired from the big day before & driving too much. Had a nice nap in the car waiting for the town museum to open at 10 – only to find that it was temporarily closed.

Into Death Valley & I took a small side road up to Rhyolite – a dead set ghost town. It was a big mine town in the 1900s (peaked at 10000 people), but funding for mine expansion dried up near the end of the decade & now the town looks like this:

This is one of the best preserved bottle houses in the world.

A few hundred yards down the road there was quite a few outdoor sculptures – this of course was my favourite:

It was back on the road to head in to Death Valley – the lowest, hottest & driest place in North America (curiously, it is only just over 100 km from Mt Whitney – the highest place in the continental States). The roads were a lot of this:

But over those hills, I descended to look out at the low spot:

Naturally, it was getting quite hot (about 110) & I eventually made it down to sea level, before starting another big climb over another pass (the poor Dodge has done a fair bit of climbing over the last week – & more to come).

Once out of Death Valley & climbing another pass, I passed veritable forest of Joshua Trees – strange looking things, they were everywhere.

I made it to Kernville, the camping rendezvous, about two & a half hours early – lounged around on the village green (found free Wi-Fi), went to the local museum & so on.  Irmina & Bill turned up, it was off over the road to another microbrewery for good food & beer & get to know each other a bit.  We pushed off for the campsite at about eight.  Apparently, we were trying to get to pitch tents before night fall – that turned out to be a bit hopeful.  As I followed the others in the Dodge, it became apparent that it was forty miles away & a few more thousand feet of climbing on windy, gravel roads.  I watched with increasing nervousness as the fuel gauge dropped, the light came on & the needle continued its plunge.  Night fell & we twisted around more & more turns as we climbed to the stars.  It was much relief that we pulled in to a vacant campsite (who else would drive this far?).  As we pitched tents, I was surprised as to how cold it was (it dropped to about 40 that night ~ 5 Celsius) & it was great that I had brought my Fairydown sleeping bag all the way to the middle of nowhere in the Californian summer.  The stars were out in full force – easily the best I have seen in the northern hemisphere – & I went to sleep listening to the stream running down to Big Meadow.

JEM & Zion

Up early on Thursday to go & ride before it got too hot on the JEM trail – one that came highly recommended. At the trail head just after seven, a couple from San Diego (of all places) – Mike & Annie – pulled up & had the same riding plan as I did. I waited around a little so I had some riding company & we took off up the first part of the loop – Gould’s Rim Trail. This climbed a bit up on to a plateau & as the sun was still rising (no daylight saving in Utah) the spectacular scenery was cast in even better light than I had previously seen it.

While the map we had was great, unfortunately some of the trail markers were annoyingly absent. We skirted around the side of a canyon & it was mostly nice twisty, but not too difficult single track.

There was one really rocky & gnarly downhill section – Annie must have been feeling it on her hardtail. As we got closer to the highway, we lost the trail again – we split up, they went down & I went up a dirt road trying to find the JEM trailhead. In the end, I did a few extra miles uphill & couldn’t make it across to the highway so had to backtrack – unfortunately I never saw Mike & Annie again. I made it up the highway & hit the JEM. What a fantastic trail! It was on another exposed plateau, but overall it lost altitude. It was more of the same great single track that weaved around, but it had plenty of little rises to hop off, plenty of bermed corners & was generally a big chainring flowing singletrack. The most difficult bit was when it plunged down in to a small canyon with a series of very tight & rock singletrack.

As I was beginning to discover & appreciate with a lot of the riding I was doing in the Southwest & California, babyhead rocks could appear at any time & completely change the trail. One thing I will say about the fireswamp – it definitely keeps you on your toes. Near the end of JEM, I joined the Hurricane Rim Trail – it basically followed the top of the gorge formed by the Virgin River back to Hurricane.

It was starting to get a lot warmer by now & there was quite a bit of climbing considering I was following the river down – but there was still the odd cool downhill & rocks to negotiate (they always make the climbs more challenging than back in NZ – it’s always nice to conquer them). Due to my little detour, I ran out of water with about four or five miles to go – how I wish they were the much shorter kilometres! I eventually made it back to my car – another great high-twenty mile ride under my figurative belt. Back to the motel to clean up & then off to explore Zion National Park.

Once again, I joined the masses at another popular national park. Due to its popularity, the park has a great shuttle bus system – you park your car at the bottom & hop on & off for free as the whim takes you. The day had clouded a bit (when I left the motel, I couldn’t believe the amount of cloud that had come from nowhere & how much the wind had picked up), but the canyons on either side of the Virgin River (upstream tens of miles from where I was riding earlier in the day) were still vividly red-brown. Every twist in the road or path showed a different side to them & I was enthralled. I went on a few little walks, some only five minutes or so to get a bit of elevation to look out at something, one about an hour loop that took visitors up a side stream to a series of rather tranquil ponds & stunning waterfalls. Completing all my little walks, it was back in the mighty Avenger to drive to the east edge of the park. The geology here was a little softer, with some nice patterns in less steep cliffs. There was also a very impressive 1.8 mile tunnel that was blasted out in the 1920s. As awesome as the Grand Canyon was (& I really liked it) – for some reason, Zion was that little bit more enjoyable – perhaps because at Zion you are in the bottom of the canyon looking up at the immense rocks above you. Back to Hurricane to do some much needed washing & have an early night – big drive the next day to meet up with some more MTB internet friends back in California for a weekend of camping & riding.