I'm amazed at how early some folks get up to go riding. I can't seem to get myself together early enough to make the local trail rides -- those people must have straight jobs, or something. I found myself with some extra time midday on Saturday, 12/12/09, which was still during that cold snap, if you recall. I was able to borrow the car, so I headed out to Mima Falls Trailhead for a solo trail ride. Extra clothing -- check! Extra food -- check! Headlamp -- check! Note in a bag on the windshield with my name, an emergency contact name and number (I don't have a cell) and my intended route (plus a couple alternates) "just in case" -- CHECK! Ready to ride?! Eh, not so fast Einstein....
The gate at the trailhead was closed, but I wasn't about to let that stop me since I had driven all the way there to ride. There was room by the side of the road stub to park. And park I did -- rather poorly as it turns out. I whacked my front wheel pretty far out of true on the far side of the swale next to the road. Since I figured that the ride would be significantly enhanced by the ability of my front wheel to actually spin without hitting my full 29er Cascadia Frankenfenders, I quickly removed the wheel, assessed the patient's symptoms and judiciously applied a technique that we bike doctors refer to as "velox vis obviam terra" or, in lay person's language, "quick force against earth". I'm pretty good at it, too, and had the wheel it pretty excellent shape in just three whack.... uh, I mean three applications of this therapy. Reinstalled back on the bike, the wheel spun freely without contacting the fender at all. Good thing as it was probably coming up on 2PM, and there wasn't a heck of a lot of daylight to work with (the sun sets around 4:22PM these dark days).
Gear Nerd Alert
Despite the chilly air (~34 F), I trusted the mantra "If you're warm enough when you left, you're overdressed". It doesn't come naturally, but I was glad I forced myself not to over-insulate from the get go. Setting out, I had just the right amount of clothing on (the rest was in my pack) as I set out Mima Porter #8: thick wool socks, waterproof Shimano MTB shoes, lyrca shorts and thick lycra tights atop them, wool long sleeve shirt with wool short sleeve atop it. Though it seemed as though I might be able to ride in my long fingered Pearl Izumi gloves pretty comfortably, my hands were cold pretty immediately (I have lousy circulation in my hands and feet). I switched to some Louis Garneau gauntlets I also had with me.
Those really did the trick, just as they did on my bike tour in Death Valley last December. I credit this to the fact that the hand portion of the glove is fairly loose-fitting and because gauntlets go _over_ sleeves and end higher up the arm than normal gloves with a cuff you have to put under a sleeve (which gets bulky and cuts off circulation at the wrist). With gauntlets, you can keep wind out without cinching anything down, plus, whatever pressure it exerts is further up the arm, where I suspect the blood vessels that serve the hands/fingers are "less superficial" so they aren't as vulnerable to a tourniquet effect. If you have trouble keeping your hands warm, try loose and _long_ gauntlets atop your sleeves. I think you'll find that they improve your circulation markedly. It's a different approach from what the outdoorsy establishment pushes, but who cares if their approach yields frozen and number fingers? I'd like to still be able to squeeze my brake levers at crucial moments than win a fashion contest.
That all said, I still had some problems with my hands getting cold/numb, though, which I attribute to the Ergon grips I've been trying. I've ridden four times with them, and my conclusion is that I don't like them for trail riding, at least with the Origin8 Space Bar I run on my XC hardtail. The backwards flare of the Ergons seems to wind up pressing on my ulnar nerve which causes my hands to go numb and also loose circulation. I fault the grips and not my gloves, because as I said, I used those gloves on a tour in Death Valley which entailed all-day riding (on drop bars, which I dig) without the same problem (as far as I recall).
This Was Supposed to Be a Ride Report, Right?
Anyway, it was great to be out, to be alone and enjoy the "corn flakey," crunchy, frozen surface. Riding solo aside, I tend to err on the side of safety, so "just in case" I made a few arrows out of sticks to show any potential searchers which trail option I took whenever there was an trail intersection.
As I cruised along MP8, I enjoyed the views and sounds of the partially-iced-over Mima Creek. A while later I saw a grouse that I had startled. I stopped to watch it and listen to that three-stooges kind of sound it made as it took cover in short hop flights. While I did that, I also noticed a small woodpecker and wondered how the thing could possibly drill into the frozen bark of trees to get any food. Feeling luck my snacks were just a zipper away, I headed on.
Aside from a few small descents by Mima Creek, most of my ride along MP8 was pretty level or climbing, and when I stopped for a snack or to stretch (my back hurts unless I do this a few times during a ride) I consulted the map to check out the topo lines. It seemed like once I was on GL6, it would be mostly flats and descents. I decided that at that point that I'd break out the rain jacket and balaclava to help keep me warm. Good choice. I wouldn't have been bummed to have brought my ski goggles, but I left home without them. In the cold air, descents entailed more blinking than John McCain in a presidential debate.
A short way into GL6, there was a clearcut with a view of Mt. Rainier lit up by the sun setting behind me. It was beautiful, and there was a perfect stump-seat next to the trail, so I stopped and enjoyed the solace of the experience while I munched on a sandwich and some satsumas. The temperature was starting to dip, though, so I didn't want to dally very long.
Overall, the trails were super-buff (even with lots of twigs from the recent windstorm) to the point that they were almost completely non-technical, but that's OK as I was up for a more of a "trail ride" and less of a skills-fest where coming up short would could have bigger consequences than when riding with buddies. Two exceptions to the trail conditions were:
- (Heading east) on GL6 just after the switchbacks north of D-4600 (right about where the "#6" is on the map in section 29). There was a large dead tree that fell right into/in-line with the trail _immediately_ after the very last switchback. Thankfully, not only did I not hit it, but it was so rotted that when it fell -- possibly in the recent windstorm -- that it broke up into person-sized logs. I figured I'd give moving them a shot, and to my surprise, it went pretty well. The last one was a hell of a struggle, but after wrestling with it, I was plenty warm again!
- (Still heading east, in map section 29) on GL6, another large tree fall, this time _across_ the trail, but there wasn't squat I could do about that one. That's a job for a chainsaw, and while I tend to over pack, I didn't bring one with me.
I was concerned about GL6 back towards M.F. trailhead because of a note on www.capitolforest.com that says the Washington Department of Natural Resources has closed "a short section of non-motorized trail between Margaret McKenny campground and the E-9000 road". The website didn't specifically say the closed trail was GL6, but I figured it probably was, so I took #10 back to MP8 (thanks consider this an appeal for that closure notice to be changed/clarified). The last time I was on #10 was several years ago during the late spring when it was so muddy we had to push our bikes 3/4 of the way up the trail -- I think we were headed the other way at the time). Our bikes were so packed up with mud that I recall wryly saying to my riding buddy that day that I thought the trail name was a reference to how many pounds of mud per wheel your bike accumulates on it. I was excited to try it out considering the ground was still frozen. Still, it was easy to see what a poorly drained trail it is from the scoured out sections comprised of small round rocks left after all the fine soil has been washed away. At one point, there was a 20 yard long section of mud crusted over with ice. I didn't want to wipe out and fall flat onto and then through the ice into the mud. The ice turned out to be thin, though, and as my tires broke through the ice crust, my pedals hit the ice on either side of the wheel track. I tried to use a ratchet-like pedal stroke so my forward crank wouldn't go past 4 o'clock, but I couldn't really make it happen, so I just ratchet-hobbled through that section. Humbling after clearing the rest of the ride so well, but I didn't bite it and land IN the mud, so I was cool with that.
As mentioned earlier, the sun was setting, and visibility (at least in the areas that still had trees!) was fading as I descended the final few switchbacks to connect with MP8 again, my stick-signal arrow from the beginning of the ride faithfully pointing west, though I was now heading east back to the trailhead. I picked up the pace as best I could to try and avoid having to stop and fish out my PrincetonTec EOS headlamp. It is OK for use around a campsite, around the house, or as a backup light around town, but it is far from ideal for trail riding in low-light conditions. Still, I grabbed it because it's a hell of a lot better than nothing, plus it's lightweight and packable. Thankfully, I reached the E-9000 crossing and then the junction of GL6 and was pretty home free well before it was too dim to see. In fact I could still make out the horrible wasteland of the timber sale adjacent to the trailhead. A bittersweet end to a fun ride, but you take the bad with the good in Capitol Forest. I still feel pretty lucky to have such a great trail system right in my back yard.
