Wow. DirtFest. Best weekend ever.
We got in around 10 at night Thursday - the gate was locked and another car load was locked out. We called a buddy on the inside but he was already wasted, but luckily another car was also locked out so they called one of their friends, one of Roth Rock guys who were really keeping the ship afloat all weekend and had his act together still enough to make it up the hill enough to let us in. We bumped into Eric, the ad sales guy for Dirt Rag, who gave us a tour and brought us down to the DR compound to set up camp and drink their beer. Everyone was nice and toasty by then, working fruitlessly to get the pedal-powered pinball machine to work. We had missed the booze cruise that got everyone as giggly as they were, but had a drink to get on the level and catch up with our pals before pitching our tent and tucking in for the night. There wasn't a cloud in the sky all weekend, until the very end when a single whisp appeared, and while surrounded by good and new friends, drinking cold, free beer, eating snacks, and the chaotic sound of a campfire, drunken chatter, a pinball machine and the loud pedal-powered battery to power it, and the waves crashing just feet away, the leaves rustling in the slight breeze, and the reggae I swear was playing on a stereo, I looked up at all the stars and planets so dashing in that fantastic clear sky, and really didn't feel small in the scheme of it at all.
The next morning, Karen, Elizabeth, and I headed out for a couple hours and they taught me how to pump the track, which proved invaluable at Raystown Lake, where we were, as on some group rides I got so into the groove that, riding behind people a bit slower than me, when I pumped the track right I could go long stretches without pedaling at all. Anyway, we rode some of the trails at the top of the park, then headed back to camp, and I hung out by the lake to draw a little and write, and took a nap. Relaxing is something I feel I often think I do, but it's always in an active state. Even writing is something that is no longer passive for me, if it ever was, because I dig deep into myself, either to recollect a memory of to dissect it, either to create a character or destroy a haunt. Drawing by the lake with my cray pas, there was so little judgment of hesitation, so little fear, just taking in the scenery and expressing a version of what I see on paper. I "can't draw" so there's a freedom in that, a lack of inhibitions that might judge before the creative process can pan out. It's all just brainstorming, in a sense. It was really a wonderful, decompressing moment to have by myself before test riding a Pivot. Usually I ride a 29er hardtail, and this Mach 4 is a full suspension bike with 26" wheels, so it was a bit difficult to get used to - I had a lot of chain slap on the stay that I just couldn't seem to shift away from. But it was really comfortable to ride and absorbed a lot of the trail. I appreciate the smaller frame and wheelbase, which was easier at taking turns, something else I learned this weekend. the 26" wheels and the suspension frame aren't as great for climbing, but honestly climbing has become one of my stronger riding skills, and Raystown really doesn't have much of it anyway, since the trails were created in such a way that they are all rolling and meandering and really optimizing momentum, rather than fighting against gravity.
Saturday, there was a skill session at 10 a.m. and I had the honor of learning braking, body positioning, and basic turning with Sue Haywood, Rebecca Rusch, and Katie Holden, three totally badass riders with different backgrounds and wells of knowledge to answer all my excited questions. I got to ride behind Rebecca for a while and at the end, she even named me her MVP and gave me a ridiculously awesome set of Pivlock sunglasses, which I will cherish forever. There was another skill session at 2 p.m. and I didn't want to risk missing it so I stayed in my chamois and ate some cereal and waited for two hours to pass so I could ride up the hill and catch the women's clinic again. My new Best Friend Rebecca said I could ride with the more skilled riders and do the clinic that focused just on advanced turning, led by Katie and then joined by Sue. We just rode up and down a paved road for a long time, practicing serpenting down the road with attention paid to foot positioning, body weight, hand pressure on the bars. I was really happy that, just like the other things I learned this weekend, once it was explained to me and I tried it a bit, I got the hang of it and then really enjoyed it. Then we rode the trails and practiced our new skills, which made the trails faster and more fun, and I whooped and hollered as we flew and pumped and soared, and there's nothing exactly like a group of women riding together in the woods, laughing and cursing. I got back to camp and jumped in the lake. DR had rented a houseboat for the weekend and let me climb aboard and use its water slide and jump off its deck. Some friends came along for the fun, Elizabeth turned on the water slide for me after hearing the sound of my butt losing skin to the hot plastic of the dry slide, and I felt like it was my birthday. I changed back into dry clothes and by then the campfire was blazing, so I got to work making chili.
On Sunday, I was tired, but couldn't bear to stop riding, as it was our last day there. I rode on my own bike for a bit (and sadly missed the morning skill session because I was tired and my stomach was a bit upset from the chile and junk food from the night before), hung out at the Pivot tent, test rode a Mach 5.7, and then rode on my own bike another few times. As my butt was sore from my incident with the slide and from developing saddle sores, the Mach 5.7 was a dream bike. Either it wasn't as beat up from test riders or I was just better at using it, but regardless there was zero issue with the chain slapping against the stay. I made it a point to ride easy and chill out, but every time I saw a wheel in front of me I naturally had to chase it, and this bike abided. The trails by then were pretty washed out and dusty from all the traffic and also from the increasing heat of the days with no rain or cloud in the sky. I saw a big fat black rat snake, a grouchy baby porcupine with its parent, and a chipmunk, all just hanging out in the middle of the trail (separately, not together). The snake was a little less than half across the trail when I stopped for it. It was sensing me in the air and sort of looking for me, and I gave it some space until it felt comfortable to make its way across the path and slither away. The porcupines were down a ways a bit on the same trail. The adult saw me first and ran into the shrubs while the baby stood there terrified and hissed and growled at me. The adult was chirping for the baby to come as the baby made hilarious faces of malcontent in my direction before running back to its parent. There were lots of big birds of prey in the sky as well; on Thursday night, people saw a bald eagle while on the booze cruise, but I never caught it. Anyway, I spent the day riding the trails I knew, coming back to the Pivot tent for water and to sit down, cooled off a bit, then rode some more until I was tired and thirsty again, back and forth until I had had as much as I could logically handle. I bumped into some people I met over the weekend and compared my feelings to those of my dog when he's at the dog park, unwilling to stop playing despite his obvious inability to keep moving. I jumped in the lake once more with my pal Anya and her husband Eric (not the same as mentioned above), who pointed out the singular cloud in the sky and joked that the weekend was ruined and it was now time to go home. We swam a bit more before I left them by the shore to break down our camp, and eventually as I was still avoiding the inevitable by hanging out with people by the picnic tables and taking advantage of the wonderful company, Anya is beached on the shore and ultimately carried up the hill and into her van by Eric and their friend Chuck, as she drags her feet and resists mightily the end of the lake and the weekend. Evan was finally done working around quarter til 4, and I convinced him to go for a ride and drove him up to the nice trails at the top of the park, that I rode with Karen and Elizabeth on Friday. While he was gone, I finished packing and laid on the picnic table with my head dropped back and my feet standing tall over my head to reverse the blood flow. I could have stayed like that for hours, watching the leaves rustle behind me with the slightest glimpse of the lake through them, but Josh, Pivot's year-round demo guy, came by and we talked for a while. He, too, eventually left, and I passed along to him the bag of bread and peanut butter and banana Elizabeth had left to me, as he would need it at his camp more than we need it in the car. My main squeeze came back, tired and invigorated the way a great ride does to a person, and we drove home into the sunset.
No comments:
Post a Comment