Shaking out the Cobwebs
First Time Out
Words by Dan Gronross. Photos by Strahan Loken.
Date: 2009-03-03
After a season of snow the first ride of the year can be interesting. After only a few months away from the saddle, pedalling your bike becomes a daunting task. A few noble souls and I mustered up the strength to put together the best first ride of the year ever.
For some the commute was a wee bit longer. Ken and Strahan made the trek from Victoria for the day aboard the 7 am ferry.
During the summer months getting up at the crack of dawn to ride is something I don’t bat an eyelash at. Add a few months off the bike and working up the nerve to take my bike off the wall for an early adventure becomes an endeavour. The morning started even earlier for Ken Perras and Strahan Loken as they ferried over from Victoria in the morning. I rolled out of bed with just enough time to appear awake when they arrived. Coordinating the commute was supposed to put us at the parking lot around 11 am.
Finally on the road I am not sure if it was the sun, or the orange jackets, but the stoke was beginning to boil.
Our systems were not yet functioning smoothly so we called Ryan Walters and Kevin Tafts to say we'd have to push back our meet to noon. We arrived around that time, geared up and began the push.
I recall remarking at the end of the season last year that riding all the way up to the head of the trails was something that I could do without breaking a sweat. That I had become a finely conditioned machine, capable of propelling myself to the top of any trail network with the ease of a chairlift. I was a little upset to now find myself huffing and puffing, pushing the bike uphill, lying to myself that the head of the trails was just around the corner in a desperate attempt to make it to the top without looking weak to the others. What had become of me? Did the others feel the same way or was I the only one in poor form?
The talk consisted of the normal banter but with a distinctly different tone. Gone were the proclamations of greatness, promises of seeing something super rad! Instead, small confessions of each rider’s downplayed ability filled the voids between comments about how long the winter had been. We talked about having a winter with too much snow on the mountain bike trails and not enough on the ski trails and we almost forgot that it was still only February.
The collective hearts and minds of the group sank when we came into contact with the snow.
With the temperature pushing an amazingly mild 8 degrees and dry trails under tire, the last thing on our minds was trudging through the snow. Just before reaching the top of the push it lay there before us. The sun had warmed and melted the white stuff enough to make pushing the bike nearly impossible. Digging deep I turned my mind off and treked to the top.
Ken illustrates that greatness comes quick on The Crazy Carpenter. The kid wasn't out of practice like us - living us he does on the southern tip of the snow-less Vancouver Island.
Elation swept the group when we entered the forest. At the trail head all that lay before us were dry trails. But who was the first to go? Being probably the most unsure of my ability and afraid of slowing people down, I chose to head down last. Riding last in a group you get to see the progression of each rider as they get their legs back. Minute by minute and with each section the riders got smoother and smoother, with each hit requiring less effort than the last.
Then Ryan Walters threw the gauntlet down.
Ryan Walters blowing the cobwebs out while sending the road/trail gap.
After landing the gap not once, but twice you could see the walls come down. Doubt was leaving each of us; maybe, just maybe we could still ride. Possibly the sum of all the rides the year before and all the lessons learned could be resurrected and put to use on this late winter day.
Something was reawakened when I saw Ryan land the gap. Sure I had been out riding with the Dunbar Cycles gang a few times but something hadn't been clicking. Today was different. Today something clicked and the confidence that I had felt in the final days of 2008 came rushing back. I was home.
Master Plan Dan Gronross railing a berm.
As the trail progressed things got easier and easier. Each of us had declared that this was going to be an easy ride. That nothing serious was going to be done, that we would all be “safe” and take it easy since it was the first ride of the season. But once one of us started it was game on. It wasn’t one up-man-ship; we weren’t out to be better than anyone. We were just coming to grips with the knowledge that maybe we weren’t as tired as originally thought, that in the end all it took was one ride out to get the passion back, the drive that pushes you to better yourself. That some great weather and great company can bring back all the knowledge acquired the previous year.
Kevin rolls into the drop with ease - the wood was summertime dry.
Only one complaint was uttered during the entire ride. The cry came from Kevin as he picked something off his face. “Why do I have to gimp it up and be the first one? I have to ride through all the cobwebs!”
Actually we were all dealing with cobwebs of our own.
Red sky at night, sailors delight... nothing like a great sunset to end an epic day.
Here is to a year that will rival 2008! See you on the trails.
Dan Gronross
Have you had your cobwebs ride yet? Looking forward to it? Dreading it? Shake em off here...
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