Vermont Mountain Biking Bonanza

Meant to get to this a little earlier, but we all know how that goes.  All too often it seems my mountain biking gets in the way of my writing about mountain biking.

But don't fret, I'm working on cloning myself.  So far my foray into human cloning has primarily involved experimenting with craft beer consumption.  Closest I have gotten is seeing double.  I'm not one to give up though.

Anyhow, back to the story at hand.  A few weeks ago I was part of a road trip to Vermont with the express purpose of riding some stupendous singletrack.  My partners in climb were Bryan Gareau, Jess Bly, Brandon O'Neal and Dave Violette. And I'm sincerely pleased not to need to put an R.I.P. after Dave's name.  More on that later.

Green Mountain Trails, Pittsfield, VT

We headed up on a Friday.  Ron Erickson day-tripped with us, but headed home after our first ride.  After grabbing some grub at the Swanzey Diner, we made our way up to the Green Mountain Trails in Pittsfield, VT.  This is where Brandon and I will be competing in the two-man, twelve hour Peak Mountain Bike Race on September 14th.  Jess and Bryan are teamed up for the same race.

Jess could care less about his noggin.

So, having failed to read anything about the trails beyond knowing they'd been doing some serious trail work, we ventured into the trail system.  The beginning down to the river is a super fun, fast double track with a few jumps off the right side.

And then you hit the river.  There used to be a bridge here, but Irene wiped it out (along with a lot of Pittsfield itself).  But no worries, last time I was here, there was an I-beam that we would cross.  It was a little balance-beamy for my taste, but better than having to ride through the river.

So imagine my surprise and dismay when we hit the river and there was no way across.  Jess was the first, as usual, to say screw it and just ride across.  The rest of us meandered back and forth on the Rte 100 side of the river, like... Well, like a bunch of mountain bikers not in the mood to ford a river.

Eventually we all bit the bullet and made our way across at disparate crossing points.  None better than the other, from what I could tell.

And with wet feet all, we began to ascend.  Up the Stairs.  Up Noodle's Revenge.  Up Luvin' It.  Notice a theme?  Green Mountain Trails are the kind of trails that go up.  But as Blood, Sweat and Tears taught us (sorry, Mr. Newton), what goes up, must go down.

It was as we were climbing that I realized that my drivetrain was not interested in climbing.  I'm not sure I was super into it either, but I sure as hell didn't want to skip to the top like my bike apparently did.  That kind of behavior out of your bicycle gets in your head and how.  I got through it all, but it warn't perty.

Once we arrived at the top, we encountered a few other mountain bikers sunning themselves on the rocks atop the mountain.  The peak is wide open with a gorgeous stone hut sitting atop it.

View from the top.

Smiling.  Because we don't have to climb any longer.

After we left the summit, we ran into some minor difficulties.  There was a newly bulldozed trail up the back side that left me flummoxed.  After some back and forth, we finally managed to get onto Warman.  Just as fun as I remembered it.  Fast, tight switchbacks piled atop one another.  And that led into Stone Wall, which was even more fun than I remembered it.  These are longer switchbacks with the trail beautifully benchcut into the side of the hill.  One false move and you will most assuredly be falling for longer than you'd like.


Someone flatted on Stone Wall.  I think it was Brandon.  But back up and rolling in no time at all.  At the end of Stone Wall we had a decision to make.  We could continue down to the bottom and climb the whole mountain again.  Or we could climb back up Luvin' It and then cut over to Fusters.  We opted to do the Fusters option.  So back up Luvin' It.  They do a nice job with the switchbacks up and this time we only had to go about halfway up to grab the Fusters Connector.

Once we got on Fusters, the permasmiles came out.  This is a super long, super fun downhill.  They use the grade well, taking it slowly down to get the most distance out of the trail.  It was here that I realized Dave Violette is a better downhiller than me. He was on my tail everywhere we were descending.  Hot on my tail.  I let him by at the crazy stream crossing where I missed the line.  Awesome Dave!!  Probably when I am as old as you I'll worry less about dying, too.

Once Fusters dumped us out at the Escalator, we decided to continue down.  This was due in large part to my petitioning to split so we could try to get my bike in the shop up at Stowe.  I couldn't deal with these drivetrain issues all weekend.  Ron understandably kept on riding to make his day trip worthwhile.

My bike is the trailer park trash second from the right.

We took the advice of the guys we'd met at the top and when we got down to the base, we headed down the river further on Riverside Run and came out at Riverside Farm, where we were able to cross the river on a bridge.  Much better than trying to ride across it again.  And that only left us with a short road ride back to the cars.

Here's the GPS track for Friday.

Nice picture. "How can I ruin it?"

Oh, Brandon...

After a quick bite at the Pittsfield General Store, we headed up to Stowe to set up camp at Smuggler's Notch State Park.

On the way up, I called ahead to iRide in Stowe.  A guy named Ron there said they were only open until 5 pm, but when I told him my GPS was putting me there about ten minutes later, he said they'd be around when I arrived.  Bryan, Jess and Brandon headed up to camp to check in and set up (after a fruitless search for Heady Toppers).

Dave and I swung into iRide.  Ron threw the bike right up on the stand.  He could have tweaked it to hope for better performance, but with no promises.  After some consideration, I decided to have him do the drivetrain.  He said they opened at 9 am the next day and asked when I'd be looking to pick it up.  I suggested 11 - 12ish.  He said it would be ready by 11 am.  Yes!!!  Maybe it had something to do with the Imperial Oatmeal Stout I gave him, but honestly, I get the sense it may have happened anyhow.

As we were leaving, we started a conversation with a guy doing some bike business of his own.  He was admiring Dave's new Pivot Firebird 650b.  His name was Scott Espey and he was local.  He said he might be able to meet us at 11 am and show us around.  Things were looking up.

As we were still setting up camp a little while later, I received a call.  It was Ron.  At iRide.  My bike was all set.  I could pick it up first thing in the morning.  I looked at my watch.  It was 6:30 pm.  This is an hour and fifteen minutes after I dropped it off.  And it wasn't a little work.  It was a new cassette, middle chain ring, chain, cables, housing, rear derailleur and bushings in the rear shock.  Holy bike repair!  I was stoked.

The evening went pretty much as you'd expect.  We dined on some stupendous steak tips, corn on the cob and grilled apple pie, compliments of Brandon O'Neal.  Yes, grilled apple pie.  Then we drank too much beer, were reprimanded by the ranger multiple times and were in bed before 11 pm.

Paper?  Kindling?  No thanks.

Next morning we were up and at 'em early.  After breaking our fast at McCarthy's, we headed across the street to the bike shop.  The bike was ready, as promised.  Ron wasn't there because he was off doing trail work at the Perry Hill trails (Waterbury).  As we were riding there the following day, I was liking Ron more and more.

Before heading back to the campground, we detoured to Bingham Falls for a quick hike.  Gorgeous as always.

Brandon, Jess and Dave living on the edge.

The falls faithfully fail to disappoint.

Rock art.

Stowe Town Loops, Pipeline and Kimmers, Stowe VT

We headed back up to the campground and geared up to ride.  We decided that Bryan, Brandon and I would ride down the hill to the Rec Path and Jess would drive down with Dave.  This way when the ride was over, we wouldn't have to ride our bikes up the hill on the road.

Rec Path rock art.

After doing a few miles down the Rec Path, we cut into the trailhead across from the Catholic church where Bryan and April were married last fall.

Trailhead.

Now with 100% less sugar-coating.

From the trailhead, we began to climb.  A steady up for maybe a mile and a half.    Part way through the section we came to the overlook on the Green Chair trail.

Hey, that's not a quad!

Somewhere in the middle of this section, another rider came up on our tail.  It was none other than Scott Espey, the guy we had met at the iRide parking lot the evening before.  I didn't expect to see him as our start point wasn't what we had discussed.  But I can't begin to tell you how happy we were to see him.  So nice to have someone who knows the trails riding with you.

We quickly outlined what we hoped to see in Stowe.  Sphincter would be nice, but it was closed.  I guess Sphincter can't always be open.  So we discussed wanting to get from Cady Hill (where we were) to the high school and then up Pipeline to Kimmers.  We also discussed stopping into the Trapps' brewery for a beer.  Scott let us know that Pipeline had been closed the week before as Trapps was blasting in preparation for a new brewery.  We thought we'd try anyhow.

So we finished up the lower trails at Cady Hill and then rode up Cady Hill Road to starting piecing our ride together.  Cady Hill Road is a climb all the way and it dead ends into a trail which continues upward.  This climb is brutal, ascending 300 feet in 0.6 miles. 

The climb is followed by a pretty nice descent that ends near the high school.  Crossing the road, we determined Pipeline was not closed.  This was my first time on this trail.  And if I thought Cady Hill was climby, this made it look like an ant hill.  It was switchbacked nicely, so there was that. Once we hit Trapps, we kept climbing all the way to Kimmers.  Just shy of 1000 feet in about 4 miles.  Yikes!

It was at the top of Kimmers that we ran into a group of four riders about to head down.  Lo and behold, it turned out that one of these guys, Jason Plouffe, was actually a transplant from our neck of the woods and knew several of the Bums.

Quintessential VT.

After chatting to Jason a bit, we headed down Kimmers after their group.  Kimmers make you forget all that climbing and how.  Nearly two miles of huge grins and hands cramped from hanging on so tight.  Lots of fun stuff off the sides of the trails, too.

After Kimmers we headed back up (yes, up) Hardy's Haul.  Everyone was doing well.  Dave's good-natured complaints about the climbs were becoming comical. All was right.

Outstanding bridge work.

Gotta stop surprising Dave on the bridges.

At the top of Hardy's we cut over to Trapps again, this time heading to the brewery in full cycling regalia.  If you don't know Trapps, then I should take a minute to explain it is probably one of the most upscale establishments at Stowe.  It's the place run by the Trapps from the Sound of Music.  Simply spectacular.

So maybe showing up in full cycling regalia is somewhat unorthodox.  This may be the single-most self conscious I've ever felt in my bibs.  Beer made it better though.  

Mid-ride beer!

Dunkel!

Ahhhhh.

After probably the best mountain bike break in my life, we continued on our merrier way.  From here that was most immediately down Pipeline.  A fine chuckle was had by those slower than Brandon when we came across him lying in the bushes off the side of the trail.  Probably not entirely due to the one beer we enjoyed, but maybe not unrelated.

After Pipeline, we had a decision to make.  Conversation was brief.  It was time to head back to the cars and pick up somewhere for another beer.

A few more miles of trail and rec path and we were out.

All told, we did 29.3 miles and nearly 3000' of climbing.

A post-ride beer and some apps at O'Grady's and then a swim at a local swimming hole known to Scott rounded out the day beautifully.

Perry Hill Trails, Waterbury, VT

Our last day, we packed up camp and headed down to Perry Hill in Waterbury.  I'd been here a couple times before and was super looking forward to it.  Especially since my last time I had my drivetrain blow up.

As is the way with Waterbury, we headed into the trail and did a little climbing.  Straight up.  None of that pansy switchback stuff those so-called trail builders all over the rest of the state give you.  No siree.  Straight up.  But only for a little while.  Two miles.  734 feet.  By the time we got to the top, we were all breathing like Dave Violette.

Joe's

Then we hit Joe's down.  Lots of fun, but occasionally outside my technical skill comfort zone.   The rest of the guys were eating it up, but I was definitely sloppy.  Sloppy Joe's.

After Joe's we came into something more to my liking.  Campfire is a super fast, fun singletrack through mostly hardpack terrain.  We just fell in and flew through these trails.  We looped in long swoopy lines, slowly and steadily sliding down the slope.  Sweeping smiles splashed across faces.

At the bottom of Campfire we found ourselves most of the way back down the hill.  Knowing we wanted to hit the other sets of trails off to the right of the climb, we soon found ourselves grinding grannies upward once more.  This time a 700' climb over 2.5 miles.  Yikes!

The trails we were looking at this time were Permission, Burning Spear and Rastaman.  As we started to descend, the trails again got pretty technical.  I was feeling pretty good overall and was getting through most of it.

This is where we almost lost Dave.  The first instance (yes, there was more than one) occurred when he came up behind me on a bridge where I had stopped at the end looking at a drop that I had opted out of at the last second.  I most assuredly would have been off the bridge on time, but Dave decided to handle it by going across the ravine without the bridge.  Dave versus gravity.  Gravity wins.

Why does Dave look so small?

Dave was mostly unharmed and still laughing, so we continued on.  It was a short time later when we were following along a bench cut trail that was climbing and Dave stopped before a tree root system at the top.  He put his left foot down only to find it wasn't terra firma underneath - just some sticks and leaves.  Dave, as in shape as he may be, is too fat to be held up by sticks and leaves.

I have seen many a fall over my nearly twenty years of mountain biking, but I have never seen a fall like this.  All kidding aside, I must have yelled Dave's name three times while he continued to plummet head over teakettle straight down what was practically a cliff with his bike rolling along with him.  Worst case I thought that Dave could have died.  At the very least he would definitely have some serious broken bones.

I was trying to figure out what I was going to tell his wife when I looked back down and saw movement.  His fall was broken by a fallen tree about 25 - 30 feet down. And he was alive.  Definitely banged up, but mostly whole.  I hopped over the bank and scrambled down to see what assistance I could offer.  About the best I could do was carry Dave's Pivot back up to the trail.  I was literally lifting it straight over my head to get it on the trail.  Holy big fall.   

Dave, with only a strained ankle to show for it, was still able to ride.  He took one more less dramatic tumble off a lower bridge a little while later where he snapped the platform off his Crank Brothers Mallet pedal.  It just wasn't Dave's day.

We got to the end of Rastaman and Dave and Jess decided to pedal out while Brandon, Bryan and I went and hit Campfire one last time.

All in all, we did 11.8 miles on Sunday and just about 2,000 feet of climbing.  My legs were cooked!

We headed over for a craft beer and a taco at the Blackback Pub and Mad Taco.  Great end to a great trip!

Super tacos!

So long, farewell!