potential vacation, day 8

Final day mountain biking: today is Epic. No, officially, it’s Epic. The International Mountain Bicycling Association (IMBA) rates Epic rides every year, and in 2010, Texas had one. (It’s a big state. One Epic. This is why we drive ~12hrs to get there.)

This is bittersweet. Tomorrow we get back on the road, and Monday morning it’s back to the library. But today we go big.

I’m out of Terlingua pictures (hopefully taking more right now!) so I’ll leave you with a post-ride shot…

final ride, Terlingua 2010

(and thanks to our buddy Chris for house- and dog-sitting so we’re not sitting empty!)

potential vacation, day 7

Still riding through the desert… Lajitas trail system today.

with the Husband, Feb. 2009

(and thanks to our buddy Chris for house- and dog-sitting so we’re not sitting empty!)

potential vacation, day 6

All right! Day 1 of mountain biking Big Bend country, 2011!

This is the first day of the festival, with several ride options. We’re choosing to ride a point-to-point route out to a hot springs, coordinating with some friends to leave a car at the other end, so we can relax in the hot springs post-ride and then drive back to base camp. Ahhhh.

pre-riding the race course, Feb. 2008

(and thanks to our buddy Chris for house- and dog-sitting so we’re not sitting empty!)

potential vacation, day 5

Tomorrow begins the mountain bike festival that we came all this way for! Hurrah!

Usually at this time of year, my mountain biking buddies and I are traveling to Big Bend and Terlingua to compete in a big marathon mountain bike race – known as the Chihuahuan Desert Challenge in earlier days, and later as Mas o Menos. Unfortunately in 2010 and 2011, there have been some land-use issues in the area – some of the trails we’re accustomed to racing on have been blocked by new landowners or something of that nature (I cannot speak confidently to the details). This is a real shame, because the local economy in Terlingua runs largely on a couple of big events a year: the mountain bike race, and a big chili cookoff or two. Losing the race as an event threatens the locals. I’m always impressed with the small businesses that open their arms to us: tiny cafes see an overwhelming amount of business (hungry mountain bikers, whoa!) for just a few nights, and gamely serve us as quickly as they can, and local lodgings get booked something like 5 months in advance.

So in 2010, with no race to get us out there, mountain bikers across Texas decided… we should go anyway. We had a blast riding parts of the race course, as well as some trails we hadn’t seen before (or hadn’t seen since the older courses of the Chihuahuan Desert Challenge race days), and a number of people commented that NOT racing allowed a more relaxed atmosphere. And the local economy still saw an influx of people and dollars: I guesstimate the town population (based on past numbers) at 300-400, and they see sometimes 1000 people come in for the race. The non-race event brings in fewer, but still, I feel good about the Texas mountain bike community stepping up to appreciate this little community that’s treated us well over the years.

(and thanks to our buddy Chris for house- and dog-sitting so we’re not sitting empty!)

Trail work debrief

Unrelated-to-books PSA of the Day.

Yesterday I was part of a group – man, there must have been 15-20 of us out there! – doing trail work/repair/maintenance on the mountain bike trails out at Memorial Park. This is a volunteer activity I find to be very important for a variety of reasons, the basic one being that those of us who USE trails – mountain bike, hike, run, walk dogs, etc. – have a responsibility to keep them in good shape. There’s also the political fact that cities, counties, private landowners, or a variety of governmental bodies that house our trails are MUCH more likely to allow us to continue, and maybe even give us new trails, if we’re respectful, responsible users. It’s just a basic concept that you should clean up after yourself, and trail usage necessitates trail maintenance. (I’ve written more on this topic here.)

Yesterday, we were involved in quite a big project, armoring some 20 feet of trail that has been a constant mudpit since Hurricane Ike. It was hard work and involved heavy lifting and extensive digging. It was really GREAT to be part of such a large group; the small turnout I’m more accustomed to just wouldn’t have done it. I’m glad to be a part of these things and don’t regret the sweat (or occasionally the blood) I leave behind. It makes me feel good to be doing my part.

But I was disappointed to hear that several of my friends/riding buddies/fellow racers were out there yesterday riding the trails which were CLOSED due to conditions. When trails are wet and we ride or run or walk them anyway, we do further damage, thus necessitating more of my, and my cohorts’, sweat and blood. It’s a very simple concept, and especially the serious rider-racers I have in mind definitely do know better.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, friends.

PLEASE DON’T

RIDE CLOSED

TRAILS.

(the Husband's portrait of me on break)

Thank you. 🙂

Now get out there and enjoy your outdoor world!

unrelated

In other (non-book related) news, check out my latest musings