Lately my ride life has been tainted with what I want to call life’s little momentum vampires. These little soul suckers come in all varieties. And they are unique to each individual. And contagious for sure…
Mine are too many to list, but have something to do with Unemployment and a site that seems to be popular, but no known EFFECTIVE way to monitize it. So, in search for a solution to these mental parasites, I called up Miles ‘Shovelpick’ Sullivan in Hood River and told him that Kim Sturts and I are coming down. You’ll know Miles from his work on Bones Over Metal (see video on this post.)
We showed up late morning and meet Miles who’d already been riding with some of the Transition Bike community down from Bellingham, WA. Miles is always good for a ride in and around Hood River. After a quick rip around the yard on Miles’ 50, we joined Anna from IMBA and headed up to the top of Post Canyon. By the time we were bouncing our way up the shuttle road my malaise was already drifting away. As long as the wheels are going round, it’s difficult for me to have a frown.
Post Canyon has it all. When you start well above Two Chairs you even get a fair amount of Downhilling. So, you’re nice and warm by the time you hit the jump lines. This works great for me, since I am just getting instinctive with jumping. That being said, Post Canyon is one place besides Whistler where you can learn to get your jump on. It’s all there. It was late afternoon, by the time we had sessioned all the way down to the bottom of Post Canyon. That’s more than 12 linking trails. Enough to call it a day? No.
This video is from a similar trip two weeks earlier.
For the evening romp, we meet up with Mike Estes, Steve Pinner and more for a couple shuttle runs down from Nestor’s Peak. This run is on the Washington side of the Columbia. It’s like Syncline, but better. By this time, my problems only existed deep inside me and all I wanted was vertical. Their was no limit.
This last run dropped 3,000 feet over six miles and is fast. FAST, I tell you. Old school singletrack that can be ripped as fast as your nerves will allow. The kind of fast that has you yelping and hollering to the guy up in front. We even got Carl Warren to put his camera down and join us. (This is why you see very few action shots in the following photos.) It was good to see Carl have fun.
By the time, we sat down for beer and pizza in Hood River it was dark. My soul was put back together. I felt that inner glow that we all know as our relationship with the bike and the dirt. The perfect threesome. But, just to make sure that it would stay that way for awhile, we did it all again the next day. Yeah!!!!
Check out Carl Warren’s Main Gallery for more from around Hood River.
Carl lives on the Washington side of the river.
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