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05/12/2008
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So it's nearing the end of catalogue season. Only one shot left to get for Ventana;
a POV shot from the cockpit of a bike that doesn't exist. How do you do that?
Simple, place decals of the correct name on the top tube of a bike that shares
the same top tube of the bike that doesn't exist. Voilà! Instant non-existent
bike (the bike does exist, I just don't have a built frame I can shoot).
And even better, the weather is overcast so the light is even no matter which
way I go, so all I have to do is find a nice gradual descent and rail it a few
times withed camera strapped to my chest with the power winder set on multiple
frames... Somewhere in there will be a shot I can use... And on lap three we have
a winner! So Murphy - aka the Talent - and I part ways. He gets the 3300 vertical
descent back down Deep Creek as trade out for firing the camera remotely while
I was riding with said camera, and I run the shuttle for him back down the fire
road.
But wait, since we did the shoot first, that means we still have the better part
of the afternoon to go back out and run a lap the hard way - which means earning
it with a 5.5 mile fire road climb 3300 vertical back up so we can rail Dalles
Ridge to Noble Knob trail (4 miles of ridge top single track, typical epic views
lined with miles of ripe mountain huckleberries the whole way) and then hammer
out the 7 miles of delicious descending back down Ranger Creek trail to hwy 410,
the car, and a couple Foster's Lager oil cans. And food. A ride like that demands
food. Good food, too, damnit: Tim's Cascade Jalapeno chips and a sub sandwich
from Safeway. Decadence. But after a ride like that, rancid peanut butter on stale
toast will go down fine, too. As long as there's beer.
Colin Meagher's other desk. Photo ~ Colin Meagher
Murph kills me on the climb. But then again, I've been driving a desk for 9
weeks, and he's been racing the Trans Rockies and finishing in the top 20. He
could probably ride a DH bike up the road and still beat me. I roll in 20 minutes
after him, feeling cheap. Oh well. My first thought, though is, "Damn,
it is cold!" Murph is wearing every article of clothing he has in his camelbak
and still shivering his non-fat trans rockies body as I hurriedly pull on arm
and leg warmers and a wind vest. We roll out, enthralled by the spectacle of
an aggressive rain storm pelting the
flank of Mt Rainier and the ridge directly across the valley. It's headed right
for us! Shit. We make the decision to pin it - legs shattered from the climb
or not; getting caught out on a ridge at 6500 feet in that tempest with nothing
but wind vests and warmers would not be fun.
We roll Ridge Top, drop in on the Noble Nob trail and take the spur onto Ranger
Creek. A few fat drops make it through the dense canopy overhead and splatter
the dust beneath our tires, but that's it. We sit up and relax as we start descending
to the old boy scout shelter at the top of the Ranger Creek trail proper. The
first three switchbacks to the cabin flow like water. Stop at Cabin and high
five each other... Gobble Cliff bar. Gulp water. Admire moss draping older growth
trees. Clip in and roll. Nail first switchback, blow the next one while Murph
heckles me, nail the third, and blow off the trail on the fourth. Crap! Fiddle
with knobs on rear shock and front fork to get bike feeling a bit better. And
drop some psi in the tires. Start back out. Start feeling it. The Talent is
owning it though. He's got AC's nose wheelie trick rockin' in the switch backs,
and it's a thing of beauty to watch. I catch glimpses of him through the trees
and that's about it. But I can see his lines in the duff the whole way down,
goading me to go faster, to take chances, but mostly to play with the trail.
I take a page out of my buddy Mark's book and start drifting the turns a bit.
There is an amazing amount of satisfaction to be had in feeling that rear tire
drifting, but wanting to hook up... and waiting for it... and then zing! The
tires bite back in, and you seamlessly purr around that corner, silly grin plastered
over gritted teeth, and the sound of your roost pattering behind you. This is
what trail riding is all about!
Murph waits for me at the bottom, smile plastered on face, hand out for the
high five. We giggle like little kids and roll back to the car, the oil cans,
and the so-much-tastier-than-rancid-peanut-butter-on-stale-toast subs.
This is why I ride bikes.
Colin
Meagher
If you'd like to comment on this piece or see what others have to say click
here.
Colin is a pro photographer based in Seattle. He shoots for clients as divers
as Bike, Powder, Dakine , Rock and Ice, Patagonia and Paddler. He also loves to
ride. Thanks for the submission Colin! To see more of Colin's work
visit inmotionphoto.com
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