08/21/2008

- The Trail's Kiss - Words by Riley McIntosh Images ~ Cam McRae/Rider ~ Ryan Newman

There is a moment when the berm is all used up. I have come sailing in, braked, let go, carved through, all that. For an instant I say no, not going. My lips even form the words. Perhaps that isn't true. But in my mind, I lose commitment. I freeze.

Then, just as strangely, just as simply, I let go. Literally. My fingers reaching for the levers retract, gripping bar firmly instead. In my sudden affirmation of going for it I even throw a pedal in, barely knowing it. Pushing bars down and out, center of gravity lowering, approaching the lip. The edge is apparent, below and beyond is the gap, the space I will leave behind. As I take off, there is an all encompassing feeling of letting go of the world. That moment of just doing it. The sound of the wind past my face. There is a rushing feeling and I can imagine my eyes becoming wild, and livid. Livid with adrenaline seething, my bike and body no longer on the trail. There is nothing between me and the ground but air. That crucial corner lies about fifteen feet behind the edge of the step down, just existing there like a perfect woman resting upon the forest floor.

Click to enlarge

I turn my bars way over until my left arm crosses my right arm. My head follows, and for that moment when I am truly airborne, sailing; I can see that the next corner contains a funny little contour I've never taken advantage of before. There is an opporunity for much airtime. I turn my head back as my arms do the same, and my landing gear is in order. My feet are on my pedals, my hands are on the bar which now faces forward. My front tire spins lazily, slowed by this tour through gravity. The top of the tranny is a smooth line, chocolate brown, slightly altered in texture by last night's rain. I push into the bars a little, unconsciously. My bike arches into the steep tranny, that slight alteration of the bike's angle precipitating a landing that is elegant. The kind of landing I always hope for, the kind of landing where you are completely unphased; already looking ahead for the trail's next offering.

In this case I have already been inspired by that subtle undulation I noticed from the air. An undulation well suited for what I have become inspired to do.

As I approach I press my weight down into the bike, feeling the suspension sag an extra little bit beneath me. At this point the trail runs downward on the same angle as the tranny behind me and then rising upwards in a nice bowl shape. The oddity I have noticed is a small angled bump near the top of the rise, with an inviting opportunity to pop upwards and air way down into the natural transition formed by this ravine like setting. From the top of the rise the trail turns gradually right, swooping in a long leaning line downwards before rising up again and turning left in another beautiful sweeper.

Click to enlarge

It all works out. I approach the bump fast, braking only a little. I crouch into my bike before uncoiling to take advantage of this opportunity. I luck out and get the much sought after "perfect pop." I sail upwards, turning my handlebar to the right while pushing down at the same time. This sends the rear end of my bike swinging fast to the left, sending me whipped and high in a kind of sideways swath through the air. I maintain my bar turned to the max, until I have reached the peak and begin coming downwards. As I straighten out the bars and turn my eyes to the transition, the next roller coaster style ravine, and the upcoming left corner at the top of the uprising, my bike lines up.

Landing is like the moment after a first kiss. The leaning in, the takeoff. The airtime, the soft contact, then there is the pulling away from the moment. The opening of the eyes. What hopefully awaits is a happy girl, a happy landing. In this case everything is good and there is not even a hint of rejection. There is only a perfect long landing, sweeping onwards into a smooth uphill.

As I shoot up the rise I am fully aware that I have had two really good jumps. In a row, almost as one. One section of trail dialed. There is much more waiting below. There are dozens of opportunities for weird lines, funny air, cool transfers. I won't line them all up one after another on this ride. In fact, two corners down I blow it. Coming in super-hot, full of fire after those two perfect jumps, I let the brakes go and charge the section like a cheetah on crack. My bike is dealing with extra action since I'm going sixty kilometers per hour and a funky section of roots proves to much for both me and the bike. I get wacky in the multi bumps and I lose control and rythmn. I have to grab handfulls of brake and still almost lose it over the bank, chattering into control with my legs locked, way too many angry roots sending my bike and I into survival mode.

I put my foot down, stopped completely in the corner's apex. I shake my head a little laughing at myself, looking back up the trail. The roots behind me glare angrily. " Why don't you just put a gun to your head next time?" they say. "Don't you know we're roots? We'll eat you alive guy."

Click to enlarge

Jeez. Two perfect jumps - the best moment on the bike in days - and I totally lose myself and think I can just start letting go of the brakes like I'm Superman. Those roots are a stark reminder; one section of trail ridden like some X-Men hero is pretty exciting, yes, but falling off my bike into a maze of sharp and pointies would hurt.

So I put my feet back on my pedals, hands back on bars and start coasting down the trail, pushing downwards into my bike's suspension, getting a feel. Getting comfortable again, breathing deeply.

Up ahead there is this big bank you can hip off and soar way over the top before falling back in and straight into a right hander. After that there is a long straight section that loudly proclaims: top speed. Then there is this ridiculous left hander that is so bermed up it feels like you are able to alter the laws of gravity. Many more straight sections with corners waiting at the ends, funny slithery sections through big trees, and this crazy sidehill section that doesn't just feel like a roller coaster - it is a roller coaster. It's crazy how fast you get going, and you can air off the top of each roll and push back down into the compression of the next one before skimming over the ground again. After that there are many opportunities for airtime, a couple bridges, a cool creek crossing, gap jumps, a berm with a jump off the end……………..it just keeps going and going, all the way to the bottom.

Click to enlarge

All I have to do is remember to keep my head about me and not get too worked up after successfully completing a challenging section. What happened back there was amazing, those two jumps in that ravine section. But it is important to put things into perspective, and breathe a little afterwards. If I get carried away by my successes on the trail and start pulling out all the stops trouble could be waiting at the next corner, as I was reminded on this ride.

Letting that lesson sink in, I approach the next corner, not less fast, not more timid, just a little more trail wise, a little more ready to keep it going fast and smooth, all the way down.

Riley McIntosh

What do you think? Comment on Riley's article here.