Skip to main content

Trail Maintenance

  Have you ever been to the Longmont Humane Society to look for a new dog? You can walk down the row of pens and check out each animal. Usually the dogs are a collection of every variation of pitbull mix. But when you see the right one, you know it instantly. Maybe you don’t even read the card that describes all the issues the dog has, this is the dog for you!
That’s how I felt when I adopted my trail this summer.

  I rode it the first time following a friend. The trail is fast, loose and riddled with fist sized rocks in all the wrong places. It’s nearly a straight shot across a ridgeline, that is mostly descending. And when it does rise up, or level off, you are carrying so much speed, that with just a few pedal strokes you can maintain your speed until it drops again.  This trail is just naturally fast.
After riding it for the first time, I was grinning ear to ear. But, I was also thinking how just a few little touch ups could really improve the flow. That’s when I decided to adopt my trail.
  Calling it a trail is probably a little too generous. It’s really a washed out double track that has morphed into a motorcycle trail because of erosion. I’m not out there taking a shovel to some perfectly developed singletrack, or punching in something completely new. I’m trying to tame a wild beast that most riders don’t even consider an actual trail. I say that because this road is a thing you ride to get to other trails. If it were at the bottom you’d call it a get-back road. Up in this trail network, it’s more of a get-to.
So, that’s why I figured I could mess with it and no one would really mind. Repairing this trail is similar to a graffitti artist putting murals on boxcars. It’s only a temporary piece.

  The first thing that bugged me were three distinctive kinks in an otherwise, fast straight downhill.
I filled these in, and the trail smoothed out quite a bit. From there I started walking back up the trail, sweeping rocks to the side. I noticed a bigger rock that I once caught a pedal on and dug that sucker out before filling in the hole.
  The trail has a couple of natural jumps that I’ve picked up on. Basically they are just rocky edges, that I hit with a little bit of pop. I decided, if I’m going to be catching air off these things I should at least give them some decent lips. I piled enough dirt on top of each rock to form a smooth transition. The jumps are an optional addition to the trail. Any rider can skirt right past them, but if you’ve got a hankering for some air, you’ll see these little booters as you approach.


  Sometimes trail maintenance means cutting back branches that are starting to slap riders as they go by. Other times it just means kicking loose rocks over to the side. I don't know where the loose rocks come from, but new ones always seem to appear. Some sections of trail lean off camber to the right. Each rainstorm sweeps a little more of the dirt off and deposits it on the side. A couple times over the summer I went up to my trail and filled buckets of dirt from the side and poured them back on the trail.
  I dumped a lot of dirt into the three kinks. The kinks are formed by low spots between big rock slabs. They form natural gutters each time it rains and all my dirt gets washed away. I've experimented with filling in the kinks with small rocks and then covering the rocks with dirt. I thought maybe the rain could run through the rocks without washing out all the dirt. It held up for a few storms, but eventually the kinks were back.
  Trying to halt the mountain's process of erosion is like Sisyphus rolling his rock up the hill everyday. I'm doing the same thing only I'm hauling an orange Home Depot bucket. It's an exercise in futility. Sometimes my friends will compliment the I've done work to the trail. Other times I can haul ten buckets of dirt back into place and the effect is so subtle no one even notices it. I can't blame them, you really only notice a loose rock when your front tire is bouncing off of it. No one notices if that rock isn't there when you hit that section, you might just think you are really on fire that day.
  Maybe you'll make it out to my trail some time, hopefully you find it fast and smooth. If not, hey..the mountain's gonna do what a mountain wants to do..



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

You only have to be the best until the best show up

   a tabletop   I still make dirt jumping part of my life.  There’s really nothing like it. I've been doing it for twenty years now and I kind of feel like I've earned my place. I love pushing my bike into the line-up.  I always greet the other riders just to check the attitude. A dirt  jump session should be an inclusive and positive scene. It’s one of the few times in life that you are really putting yourself out there. It’s not like a party or work or any situation where people can talk about how good they are. Nobody fakes their way through a dirt jump line.      I have a mantra I use at the park. You only have to be the best until the best show up.   And I love it when the best show up! Kickass riders are awesome to watch. I can usually spot one in the drop-in line as I roll up. They won’t wear any gear except a helmet.       It’s great when the best riders are fun and friendly. Sometimes they’re not. That’s fine. If a guy is throwing down sick tricks he  can be withdrawn

The Signs

The tale of the Left Hand Canyon trail signs is a story about art. Art in the woods, and corporate timewasting. I had become hopelessly addicted to Left Hand, and I had access to a sweet welder. I thought the broken shovel design fit with the asthetic of the trail system. A system dug by hand with sweat and shovels. My signs would be a tribute to the guys spending their free time out there digging. I started with Indy and Bon Scott since those were the existing trails, quickly followed by Deadass and the RZA GZA sign. The early signs were kind of crappy as I developed my technique. I eventually decided the best way to make the letters was a multistep process. I would lay down a layer of weld, then grind the top smooth, then lay another bead and repeat. I actually carried some of the originals down off the mountain and applied more weld to bring them up to the new standard. Also the first ones were unpainted and nearly invisible to a passing rider. The new trails started coming fa

A letter to the rider who just crashed hard...

        A friend in California was telling me about one of his weekly surf sessions. He said that a shark had been spotted at his regular beach. Then he explained, "A shark only swims about 15 miles an hour, so we went to a beach 25 miles up the shore. I figured that would give us a solid hour before the shark could even get there."     I know his math is faulty, and yet, I understand his logic. Every thrill sport enthusiast creates their own twisted logic to convince themselves and others that whatever they're doing really isn't that dangerous. I mean seriously, you can get hit by a bus just walking across the street. Yet, if I jump my mountain bike from this dirt pile to that one over there, it's impossible that I will be hit by a bus. Therefore dirt jumping is basically safer than walking. Me and my old friend, The Ground    Surfers have sharks. Backcountry skiers have avalanches. Sky divers and mountain bikers have the ground. As an antagonist, the earth doesn