Opening Day

The ski chairlift hanging from a tree. The artful sign on the trail named "Permission". The moose ribs. The microclimate amid granite boulders. I ticked off these landmarks on my favorite trails this week, as bike trail networks opened one-by-one. The rumor mill had been buzzing. "I heard Millstone is open." "Darling Hill at Kingdom Trails is ridable." "Dan Smith's is dry." After a rainy weather pattern had me riding dirt roads (albeit lovely) a month too late, spring fever hit me with the force of a perfect endo.

Once the trails open, there is no turning back to dirt roads for me. Last Saturday's dirt road ride was a sweet, swan song. Mandy Wisell and I embarked on the circumnavigation of the Northfield range, knocking off 6 towns along the way (Middlesex, Moretown, Northfield, Roxbury, Warren, Waitsfield). We passed bucolic, pastoral landscapes, adorned with classic symbols of country living: baby lambs nestled in the woolly locks of mama sheep; garden beds black with overturned soil, chainsaws buzzing around small building projects, Morgan horses playfully teasing each other; an older couple sitting on the front porch of their farmhouse. One scene was right out of Vermont Life magazine: a youth driving a tractor hauling brush down a narrow, sugar maple-lined lane, his father navigating the way and an old yellow retriever trailing slowly behind.

Below is a documentation of my obsessive behavior this opening week (if you are a work colleague, please stop reading here). I like to think it was boot camp training for the BC Bike Race - an immersion week of 13 hours of technical skills building and muscular endurance efforts, but in reality, it was more like gluttony ...

Tuesday: Heather Steinhour and I wound our way around the Stowe Town Loops, past the chairlift, down and up Bear Run, and tracked the dry upper loops a few times. We laughed how our depth perception was rusty at times, but mostly, the muscle memory was all there.

Wednesday: Euphoria. That's the first word to come to mind to describe what it feels like to descend Burning Spear. Other choice phrases would be: slightly out-of-control, but mostly-in-control; Polaroid picture-taking in my mind, every second, every section; remembering lines with fondness; flowing like water.

Wednesday: I brought the kids back to the Waterbury trails after school. They trialed the pump track while I donated $20 to the guy working on some jumps because he is raising money to have IRide rebuild the park (he is selling Waterbury Bike Park T-shirts to buy materials). We headed up the hill that serves as the gateway to the trails. Carson pushed his bike most of the way and then rode the last lip. Awesome determination. Austin walked alongside me (as I was pushing both my bike and his), slugging from his water bottle and telling me how he was "saving his energy for the ride." Cracked me up.

We stopped to chat with Jared Hossfros and his daughter, Lilliana, and then wound through the tall trees of the Campfire trails. As I followed my enthusiastic sons (who were hoping to again meet up with the "girl in the purple helmet"), I marveled at how impermanent life is. I first rode this trail over 10 years ago. I recalled the essay I wrote for Bike Magazine in 2006 (see post below) about rolling over this pine needle-laden path during different phases of my life, with friends who mean alot to me. Now I am following my kids, who aren't young children anymore, but curious athletes of their own.

Thursday: I met Barb Patterson at the Montpelier pool and we climbed up the Sparrow Farm Trail to Dan Smith's between Jacob and Horn of the Moon. We meandered over hill and forest, momentarily losing the trail at times because of leaf litter, but mostly botanizing while biking. Patches of Dutchman's Breeches were in full bloom, appearing like tiny pantalooms hanging upside down from carrot top-like greenery. Other favorites were there for the admiring: star flowers, red trillium, spring beauties, wild oats, trout lilies, and violets.

Thursday: I joined the Montpelier Are Mountain Bike Association group ride hosted by Steve Bolduc in Middlesex. Steve's trail-building plays with the gentle and steep grades of the hillside and there are plenty of breath-holding drops (all with go-arounds). Bill Bruzzese and Kip Roberts and I took a loop at a junction marked by the skull of an animal Steve has come across. The entire carcass of a moose took me by surprise next, but served as a reminder of of those we share the woods with.

Friday: I met Liza Walker and Lisa Lavoie at the Waterbury trails. We caught up as we climbed. Biking is a social sport, but there is definitely an art to storytelling or chatting. Stop too much and the ride feels too fragmented. Talking while riding takes away from focus on technique. It is also a little cruel to ask a question of someone climbing a hill with compromised breathing. It takes skillful conversing in short sound bites or snippets, interspersed with bouts of charging downhill. Ultimately, it reinforces the value of having a beer together after a ride. Then, you can just ride.

Saturday: I did a solo ride at Millstone Hill with my dog, Ali. Where a few weeks ago I was craving friendship on the trail (invitations to as many as 9 people in one week, resulted in one person to ride with), this week I had shared my experience so much that I was looking forward to listening to music or practicing mindfulness. From the parking lot, I followed the red loop through familiar and favorite trails, however, after Scrambler and Little John, I was delighted to find myself crossing the road and entering a section of the network that I had never been on. I was told that there are other new sections, too, making Millstone a place to keep coming back to throughout the summer and fall. I'll certainly be spending the hours here in preparation for the 12 Hours of Millstone in July (as a two-person team with Heather Steinhour) and the Millstone Grind in August.

Sunday (tomorrow): An extended rain will set in and make me ok with skipping the first race of the year: Flower Power at Catamount. It will help me return from my self-imposed "spring break" to more of a work/ride/home balance. I know my family will be glad to see me ante up around the house. On Monday, I'm sure my colleagues will appreciate an increased presence in the office (don't get me wrong, I'm at my desk at 5:30 am in an attempt to compensate for my "extended lunches"). I'll feel reward in checking off another week of training for the BC Bike Race, hopefully, leading to confidence in my preparation on race day, 7 weeks from today.