Back on the [mountain] bike; adventures off-road
With Paul’s Dirty Enduro on the horizon my riding habits are changing. The Wednesday night speed workout with the club is a priority and Sunday’s are now reserved for a long mountain-bike ride rather than road ride. The Sunday before last was spent riding the 60km loop at the Ganaraska Forest, the location for the September 15th 100km race. This past weekend a friend and I made a whirl-wind visit to Prince Edward County where I rode twice on Sunday.
Riding at The Ganny was good fun and helpful in getting me reacquainted with riding in the dirt. Apart from riding this same loop with Bevin a while back, I’ve not mountain-biked since Paris to Ancaster back in April. Although Isabelle and Shirin are quite different animals and even though sandy climbs up narrow single-track trails are a different from climbing on the asphalt, the time I’ve spent on the road bike this summer certainly will pay dividends on race-day.
After work this past Saturday, Adam and I drove to Bloomfield. Sunday I was on the Moots at about 9:20am riding the Millennium Trail rail-trails from Bloomfield to the canal at Carrying Place and back. About 75kms round trip, the trail was mostly hard-packed, though there were a couple of spots where the gravel was quite loose, making it tough to maintain momentum. While the trails were signed and had posts along the way marking distance, the one information sign I did come across wasn’t too helpful.
As I rode, I arbitrarily picked a couple of small trails that cut off from the rail-trail to explore. The two trails led me to two scenes, each quite opposite in their intent.
The first trail quickly took me to where I expected to arrive; at the back-end of a farmer’s field. What I didn’t expect to see was a scare-crow, sitting there next to a tree, slouched upon a plastic lawn-chair, looking quite forlorn. It would seem this fella’s days of scarring away the birds were over, though why he’d have found residence in the woods is beyond me.
The second trail meandered in the woods for a hundred metres or so before coming across something I wasn’t too surprised to find; a hunting blind. Here the goal was getting closer to the birds and animals, not trying to scare them away.
Stopping at the canal to watch the boats and have a snack, I was back at the bike shop around 1:15pm. By 3pm, I’d eaten and been able to pull Rick away for three hours of single-track at McCauley Mountain. Being led about the trails by the man who built them is always a great way to spend an afternoon.
Just another day in paradise, revelling in nature’s bounty on two wheels. Mountain-biking, you should try it.
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