We spent the weekend of July 21 & 22 at Kingdom Trails. This time, we took two of our [newlywed] good friends with us – the husband is one of my husband’s best friends, and is part of the reason he still cycles. His wife hadn’t been mountain biking before; I’ve been dying to take her out, because she used to trail run, she’s getting stronger as a road cyclist… and there are really, really not enough women out on the MTB trails. Also because she’s awesome, and I really enjoy her company! Taking her out spurred recollections of my own first time on the trails, really only a year ago. I’ll describe our ride, using it as the framework to talk a little more generally about what it’s like to be an adult beginner on the mountain bike.
[The trails at KT are demarcated like ski trails: green circles for easy trails, blue squares for intermediate, black diamond for advanced riders.]
My husband was my first mountain biking “instructor,” and he didn’t scare me off, so I generally trust his plans in this aspect of our life. He decided the first half of our ride on Saturday; we started down Heaven’s Bench, a relatively straightforward single-track* trail without too many roots and rocks and without any steep dropoffs. It does have a very large berm at the beginning of the ride. Because of this berm, I question why it’s marked on a recommended beginner loop; however, the friend we were riding with tends to be more comfortable with downhill speeds than I am, and she was on a full-suspension bike with 150mm rear suspension – a bike I’ve ridden – that I knew would keep her secure on the trail if she tried the berm. She didn’t; she walked it; I walked it my first time, too. There is never any shame in walking any part of a trail that makes you uncomfortable. She hit the last half of the trail smiling and without issue. We took on a rooty descent with a couple of small bermed turns on Ridge slowly, and emerged, to her considerable relief, onto the wide, smooth double-track of Vast. Vast took us up to more lovely double-track: we went down Bill Magill until we hit Widow Maker.
The alarmingly-titled Widow Maker is a moderately paced blue single-track with a few steep descents, but it’s mostly roots, sharper turns, and passes between trees that make it a more difficult trail. It’s a decent “first” blue trail because there’s nothing to terrify the new rider on it – no steep embankments, no narrow bridges, no huge berms. Similarly, the next blue trail we went up, Riverwood [full disclosure: my favorite trail], provides a nice introduction to the fun of cross-country as opposed to downhill riding: narrow, winding trail that never strays too close to edge of the ridge on which it’s built, laced with tiny berms to practice leaning on and handlebar-wide passes through small trees. No steep ascents or descents, just fun riding.
The boys, after we finished Riverwood, discussed the best way back to the Village Sport Shop Trailside, where we were based for the day. They decided to try Leatherwood – our friend seemed to have gained some confidence riding Riverwood, and she’s strong, and it’s a more interesting trail than Sugarhouse Run or Vast, our other options at that point. I should have spoken up. I knew that Leatherwood has a section of trail I was only just recently – two weeks ago – willing to ride. I didn’t want to psych out our friend, who might not have the same issue that I do – a weird fear of left-hand drop-offs. I also forgot until we were on the trail that I’d walked the entire trail the first time we rode it. Forgot, in fact, until she was walking the same section of steep drop-off that I loathe, frustrated and ready to throw in the towel. Luckily, after a narrow bridge, there’s nothing but roots to get through until Nose – not a bad black diamond – which we climbed out to meet the wide double-track of Sugarhouse Run. We slogged up Sugarhouse Run and Bill Magill and emerged, breathless, onto Darling Hill Rd.
The climb to Darling Hill on double-track reminded me why I’m glad I got comfortable quickly on single-track: double-track climbing is boring. It’s wide, so it can’t crawl around and switchback the way that single-track ascents can. There’s no relief to the slope. You just have to make it up. It gave me a lot of time to reflect on what we’d just ridden, and to decide that I wasn’t going to let the guys decide the rest of the ride for us. They’d pushed our friend onto trails that I wouldn’t have liked as a beginner, forgetting some things about beginning mountain biking:
(1) We need to trust our bikes, and trust that we are balanced on them, before we can think about how to maneuver technical areas of the trails. Coming down a berm or up a steep trail; coming over a rooty climb; rolling over rocks: all of these are skills we can develop, but we need to understand what it feels like to maneuver a mountain bike on a basic trail before we start adding features. Does that sound boring to you, man who has been biking for 30 years? One boring run on a green could mean the world to your lady.
(2) We don’t know how to raise ourselves out of the saddle when we first start biking, and so roots and bumps in the trail hit us everywhere, and it hurts. Rising out of the saddle to avoid these jars – which cause bruising and chafing – requires proper pedal control and foot position (pedals parallel, toes horizontal or slightly upturned). Descending a steep, rooty single-track trail as a beginning mountain biker takes enough focus just to stay on the bike that it’s impossible to work on pedal control and coming up from the saddle at the same time.
(3) It takes time to get used to the way a bike slips (or doesn’t) on different surfaces. Mountain bikes don’t feel like road bikes. Mountain bike trails are much more varied than pavement. I repeat: one boring run on a green could make your beginner-friend’s day, because it allows us to feel dirt, grass, rocks, slopes, bridges, sand, mud, etc, without adding technical features to our ride.
(4) Mountain bikes shift very differently from road bikes because their gearing differs considerably, and anticipation of gear changes is, as a result, very different. For a beginning rider who is used to road-riding, this can be frustrating for a few different reasons: we can’t climb as quickly; we mix up our gears; we’re not used to when we need to shift – it’s not the same as climbing on pavement! –Â so we shift too quickly and lose momentum, or shift too late, grind our gears, and fall off our bikes.
(5) We need to learn how to focus on the trail! This is something that only comes with practice. Nobody can teach attention that must be paid on the trail until you’re riding, and where and what you focus on varies from trail to trail. But where road-riding requires tuning out cars and also anticipating the wind generated by their passing, focus on line, and paying attention to grade of slope and potholes, mountain biking demands attention to myriad details, big and small, that are changing second by second. It’s mentally draining, especially at the beginning. (It’s also part of why I love it!)
With these things in mind, I sat down and looked at our map. The guys were antsy to ride more; our friend was not sure she wanted to go out again. I promised to take her on a kinder route, hoping I’d be able to show her why she should love mountain biking even though she was bruised and getting discouraged.
We all set off up Bemis, a long double-track green that wanders across the edge of fields, enters and exits woods, has a few wide, satisfying bridges to ride, and serves as the connector to most of the trail systems on the west side of Darling Hill. We dropped our husbands off at the top of Troll Stroll, a black diamond descent that I tried two weeks ago with a great deal of trepidation, but which those two were itching to rip down. She and I continued on to take a small section of Loop over to River Run, and I have no regrets. A wide, smooth, black diamond double-track descent built her confidence in her bike; she didn’t have to worry about roots or obstacles, and could focus on learning how to shift her weight over the bike and feel secure. Knowing that after the initial descent, the trail turned from black diamond to blue square, we were both confident that we’d be able to handle any part of what was coming next. We chatted. I told her about keeping her toes up to help balance her weight backwards… and also about the headache I’d had for two weeks, and what the kids had been up to. It was a lovely ride along the river; I almost didn’t want to meet our husbands, but we found them at the bottom of Troll Stroll. From there, we took a pleasant ride down Eager Beaver, an easy blue single-track with cool variations in vegetation and a couple of fun berms (not too steep or sharp) to rebuild confidence from the initial Heaven’s Bench descent. After that, we all climbed out on Burrington Bench after we showed her how to lock out her rear suspension, so she’d feel a little more efficient about climbing — one of the only things I dislike about going from road to mountain biking is how slow the climbs can be.
We’ll see if our friend will come riding with us again. Even if she won’t, I loved having another girl to ride with, at least for a few hours; and I’m happy that she got to see some beautiful trails without worrying about how she was doing on her bike. How did she do? SO WELL. I’m still impressed she took on the trails she did. She was brave, strong, focused, and able to keep her head about her even when she was frustrated. I’d ride with her any day.
*[So what’s the difference between double- and single-track trails? Double-track trails provide enough room for at least two riders; this allows them to act as kind of “highways” for bikers to pass in both directions or to ride next to each other. They’re usually big enough that an ATV or pickup could fit down them, and sometimes double as access roads for trail maintenance, or as snowmobile trails in the winter. In contrast, a single-track trail is often only as wide as it needs to be for a bike to pass through; it looks like a hiking trail, and because it’s narrower, is considered slightly more difficult than a double-track trail of the same level (ie, green, blue, or black). When I was first starting, I *really* preferred double-track trails, as it felt like they provided me with more room for error, the way a wider ski trail feels easier because it’s less confining. Indeed, you’re much less likely to hit a tree on a wide double-track than a narrow single-track unless you’re trying hard.]
AMazing blog, Ariel! Great job! I lovE it!