JERRY'S HOLLERIN'

Saturday was a bit of a one-off kind of summer day.  The forecast reflected a pretty fair chance that we’d have some summer thunderstorms rolling through the area and, that pretty much curbed the enthusiasm to pack up and head for the woods.

 

Instead, K & I did a little bit of lolling around the crib, watching the sky and trying to figure out if we were gonna get some rain or not.  After a while, it became a moot point – because I was also watching the wind, which seemed to be coming in decently steady from the wnw  Within 20 minutes of pitching the idea to K, we’d loaded the van and were bee-lining it to one of the premier kite flying spots on the east coast:  Sunset Point Beach @ Presque Isle.

 

As we headed north for our short drop down from the Sweet Spot towards the lake, we transitioned from low gray clouds to broken clouds and partial sun.  The shades came out.

 

As we drove onto Presque Isle, the sunshine seemed to be perfectly abundant for a day at the beach.  Cruising back to Sunset Point, I did a double-take as we passed the owner of Harv’s ski park, jogging along in the opposite direction - at what seemed to be waaay too serious of a traveling pace.  I was perplexed at first, to encounter the Harv here – But K reminded me that he’d probably just completed the morning’s big, newsy activity/event: a one mile swim across the formerly not-so-swimmer-friendly Presque Isle Bay.  I shoulda snagged a picture of the Harv, but it turned out to not be necessary, as he’s plastered all over the front page of today’s Sunday paper.  The supporting story represented an all too rare bit of good enviro news for our region:  this swim across the bay was made by something like 350 people reveling in the bay’s new status as “cleaned up” and remediated.

 

Arriving out at Sunset Point, we encounter a full parking lot, but seemingly no one on the beach.  A good breeze – and no kites in the air!  Turns out that, just beyond the sand dunes, there were about 30 people gathered for a wedding – but, other than the wedding party, no one else was on the beach!  And this is on the last Saturday in June, mind you.

 

While the parking lot looked full, I still managed to sneak into the slot at the end that allowed me to back the van up far enough to catch a bit of shade.  This was our first visit to our favorite beach spot this year, and it was pretty cool to see how much the rolling set of sand dunes that we prefer to set up for our beach base had grown over the winter months.  The vegetation and small trees that provide some shelter from the direct sun have come in quite nicely.  It is really a very private spot.  And, this year, the dune has developed quite a high spot from which we now have a vantage of the entire length of the kite beach.

 

While we waited for the wedding to wrap up, I took a couple pics of a couple of the flower girls wandering around the area:

 

Once the wedding seemed to conclude, I deemed it appropriate to throw something up into the air, and K shot a couple of pics:

     

 

It was awfully odd that, here it was a prime flying weekend – and no one was there.  It must have been the iffy weather forecast (off & on risk of thunder storms throughout the day) that had held folks back on land.  But, we lucked out and enjoyed copious amounts of sunshine our entire visit – although you could see that on-shore, cloud cover was thicker. We had the whole beach to ourselves until about 1:30 or so. 

 

    

 

I alternated between fluffing one of the kites around and just sitting parked in the breeze near the top of a sand dune – swatting away those obnoxious beach flies.  Ultimately, that’s what drove us to abandon our location.

 

By the time we had meandered back home, the sky was thickening up and something was gonna fall.  According to the local weather guys, we were being advised to batten things down – and prepare for some serious rain and/or hail.

 

  Waiting for the front to arrive, I was entertained by a couple of white tail grazing just outside the valley wood line.

 

The storm came in over the ridge to our west:

 

It rumbled and blew and got everything thoroughly soaked:

 

 

 

Watching the bird feeder, I was shown that my lame bird feed safety engineering was deficient:

   

 

 

 

The weather broke completely sometime around 7 - and that allowed K & I took make a quick sweep around the Sweet Spot.  One of the neighbors even checked in on us:

 

The end of the day was capped off with a surprisingly glorious sunset:

 

 

 

Through a quirk of circumstances, Tuesday evening we were able to pull a major ride on a section of one of my favorite trail systems here on the Pennsylvania North Coast: The section along Elk Creek running from I-90 north to Lake Erie.

 

Mind you, it was not a guarantee that the ride was even going to happen.  The night before, I’d been phoned by a local ski bud (the owner of Harv’s Ski Park) who was twisting my arm pretty hard  to attend some sort of swanky hoo-hah honoring another fellow skier and local all around outdoor athlete.  They were inducting this fellow and a bunch of others into some sort of regional sports hall of fame.  Harv was calling aorund, trying to fill an empty slot at a table of eight, so that our buddy being honored would have some solid hooting when he received his induction.  Unfortunately, I was forced to have to choose between filling a chair and doing a lot of clapping, or going on a mountain bike adventure with my buds from far away.

 

It was a no brainer.  However, I still offer a tip 'o the cap to the Dr. of Fun. 

 

Both Chicago Tom and Scotty from Cleveland arrived at the Sweet Spot ready to ride.  After a brief discussion, it was determined that these fellows were game for more than just a cruise through Asbury Woods.  We quickly knocked a number potential ride spots off the list and decided that we'd re-visit the trails in Elk Creek from Girard, running north to the lake.

 

  Scott from Cleveland

  Chicago Tom

 

We warmed up by burning around the loops behind the Old Yellow House in Girard.  This small network of trails used to be nothing more than deer paths, but 10 or 12 years ago, the property was adopted as part of the hiking and nature trails connected with the Battles Museum for Rural Life.  The conversion homogenized the loop, but there is still some value in the beauty of the surrounding woods and, the places that have had stairs installed simply can be viewed as obstacles to play on. 

 

Besides that, there’s a little bit of history with the immediate area.  On the outer section of the loop you'll come across the remnants of a wall built to hold and contain water for the old Erie Extension Canal.  Only 1/8th of a mile upstream, there is a classic iron truss railroad bridge that crosses the creek, perhaps as much as 150 feet in the air.  It originally used to hold an aqueduct that provided a crossing for the Erie Canal as it prepared to enter the town of Girard.  (When this aqueduct collapsed in the late 1800's, that essentially killed the entire length of the Erie Extension Canal).  Nearby, just across the field, is a dead end street that I used to live on.  The old house I lived in used to be one of the original farmhouses from the mid-late 1800's that still dot the community.  Two doors down was an old church.  In the basement of my old house - which featured huge log timbers (with bark!) as floor joists - was a small wooden door.  This basement was nothing but a crawl space, really, but I once got the nerve to pry open this door and discovered the remains of a very narrow tunnel that apparently crossed under the street and came out somewhere on the other side - on the bank of the old Erie Extension Canal - no less than a block from downtown Girard.  The existence of this tunnel pretty much confirmed for me the rumored history of this old farmhouse once serving as a transfer point and way station for slaves that were traveling the Underground Railroad.  In addition, there was supposed to be a tunnel from the house to the church two doors down.  The church is supposed to still feature a secret room behind a false wall.  This space was supposed to be a safe space for travelers passing through, until they could make the final dash down to Lake Erie and across to freedom in Canada.  I've always liked the idea that this entire region is steeped in significant historical moments - and that our mountain bikes were probably following trails and paths that might be hundreds of years old.  It is quite probable (in my mind at least) that many of the trails along the ravine walls of Elk Creek were probably first tread by Indians and later by settlers and even later by travelers on the Underground Railroad. 

 

History is cool – but it’s the scope and challenges that can be found speckled all along these trails that make it so good for serious mountain biking.  Once we left the Old Yellow House and jumped across the railroad tracks, we headed upstream to challenge a monster climb up to the top of a bluff overlooking Buzz G’s place in the private valley that his farm occupies right on the creek.  No one in our group was able to master this climb.  In fact, I personally have never even come close – even though I’ve made many attempts at it over the years. (and, I tried every trick in the book, too.  I’ve made runs at it with studded tires and practically no air pressure, trying to “tractor” my way up this climb many times.  In fact, I once went to the expense of installing smaller than normal granny gearing on both the front chain ring and the rear cluster in an attempt to climb this hill.)  I now call it un-rideable, but Scotty thinks that perhaps a Lance-like guy could make a stab at it.  In any event, we ended up dragging the bikes up the last 80 feet which might have a pitch of 37 or 38 degrees.

 

Once we gained the top (and spent 5 minutes in recovery),  we sauntered over to eyeball what may be one of the gnarliest DH runs in the whole trail system.   All of us had, in previous years, made runs down this drop, but since there was no evidence that anyone had been poaching this line for quite some time, caution was in order.  But Scotty just charged over the lip - and was soon sitting on his rear tire doing everything possible to keep from being pitched over the bars.  I chose to lower my seat post substantially and elected to pull the line on the very outside edge (because the primary line going down looked to contain a lot of debris).  And, since this is my blog and there’s no one else to say it, I must report that I cleaned this drop in fine fashion, even including what looked to be an extra daring dalliance with the edge as I skirted ‘round a tree and down through a set of root infested “natural stairs”.  At the bottom, it was evident that no one was running this drop regularly, as the exit trail was virtually gone and overgrown.  A couple of high fives and, we headed north.

 

  Scott runs it down. 

 

Occasionally, there are still sections of trail here that have remained single track.  Generally, it is stuff along the ravine edge that the fishermen are traveling, most often left undisturbed because the trees inhibit the 4-wheelers from passing through.

 

Being as it is now late June, we also encountered substantial, thick undergrowth.  Sometimes, what appears to be a readily apparent trail simply will peter out into a deer path.  I don’t mind running this kind of stuff, but the deer don’t always choose routes that make sense or hold a direction.  For the mountain biker, you just sort of have to keep your eyes peeled and your momentum up as you pick your way along.

 

Once we crossed under the large span where Rt. 20 goes over Elk Creek, we encountered more open trails that reflected a substantial amount of 4-wheeler traffic.  Wherever possible, we were choosing the less traveled lines, which sometimes worked out, and sometimes not.  Yes, there were some briars and various blockages that we encountered, but we just kept plugging along, looking at every obstacle as a challenge.

 

Shortly after passing the Girard Boro Park, the trails got even nastier.  Yet, no one complained about having to do a little bit of thrashing as we worked our way north.  From here forward to Rt. 5, we would stay in the ravine bottom and relatively close to the creek.  Actual riding in the creek was pretty limited on this outing.  That was because the water was a little higher with recent rains, thus obscuring many of the rideable slate ledges that can be found on the creek bottom.  Plus, there is a copious coating of slime on all the rocks.  At least the water was warm.

 

   

 

Once we reached the railroad trestle spanning Elk Creek behind the Girard High School, we popped onto new trails that I’d not seen before.  These gave us a quick dash north and we shortly found ourselves staring at the large embankment over the tunnels that take Elk Creek under another set of highly traveled train tracks.  Here, the rider can avoid an ugly climb up and over the embankment by passing through one of the twin tunnels.  I’d suggest the one on the west side, because we ran the right side this last trip and, the trails on that east side out to route 5 were, let’s just say, “not the friendliest”.

 

   

 

Since it was getting near sunset, we elected to follow a 4-wheeler trail up the side of the ravine at this point, abandoning the final stretch down to Lake Erie.  We hopped onto a trail that was headed up and out.  And, this is where our adventure developed a classic “only with Jer” moment.

 

The 4-wheeler trail that we’d followed, while new to me, was bringing us up and out in a residential area in Lake City that I knew would get us set up for a quick road ride back to the van.  As we approached the top, it became clear that we were gonna pop out smack dab in somebody’s back yard.  I told the fellows that I’d handle any landowners that we might encounter.  At the top, we had a choice of going left and down a long driveway, but we could see 5 or 6 people standing at the bottom of the drive, probably just neighboring.  So, we elected to go right, which took us within inches of a large picture window of the owner’s master bedroom.  Trying to mitigate things in case we were observed, I had all of us walking our bikes along the yard, but as we passed by the bedroom window, and could see an exit path to the street, we all hopped on the bikes and made ready to blast out.  Scotty got under way without problem, but Tom and I, well ….. we encountered a mechanical.  As I mounted my bike and put the first hard crank on the pedals, damn if I didn’t suck the rear derailleur up into the spokes.  Down I went.  Tom, busy getting underway himself, didn’t see me laying on the ground until it was too late.  CRASH.  Now, the both of us are tangled up and laying on the ground underneath this person’s bedroom window.  As we scrambled to get up and finish our dash, I discovered that I was going to have to shoulder my ride, but that didn’t prevent Tom and Scott from making a clean get-a-way.  I, on the other hand, was left to sheepishly hobble out onto the street, with all the neighbors watching.  Fortunately, no one hassled me.

 

Once we got down the block a fair distance, I stopped and we tried to bend the derailleur back into operational status.  No dice.  Best I could manage was to at least un-jam the rear wheel so that it rolled.  The rest of the way back, I had to depend upon the largess of my riding buds to help keep me propelled and going in the right direction.  Thankfully, we really didn’t have to climb a lot of hills on the way back, but Tom and Scotty worked up a good sweat pushing me along.  I, on the other hand, was getting a little chilled.

 

By the time we made it back to the van, the Coronas sure tasted good.  There was a quick round of inspection of each rider’s newly acquired cuts and scrapes.  All in all, we agreed that we’d just had a good, old-fashioned, killer mountain bike ride.  Might even describe it as a manly ride!   Best of the year so far for me.

Had a good time in the woods over the weekend.

 

   Had to work a little bit to get back in there.

 

 

 

   As the clouds thickened up, we had shelter ready.

 

 

  It went from bright sunshine to near blackness as we watched a steady stream of progressively meaner looking clouds slowly drifted overhead.

 

  And then the skies opened up.

 

 

  And dumped not only rain, but we got a good dose of near dime-size hail as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  This is a shot of the tail end of the first of several sets of thunder storms that were to cruise through our area.  We actually had about 40 minutes of glorious sunshine.  Out came the chairs and we had an opportuntiy to revel in an ever changing atmosphere - both up high and at ground level.  The smell of the freshly cleansed air was remarkable.  The afternoon light was evolving and gradually getting softer.

 And then, the next storm rolled in: 

  And then, the next one came in.

 

  It too, soon passed, and we quickly unzipped and scrambled to set up to enjoy another session in the sun, before this set of clouds appeared on the horizon.  The rains were preceeded by another round of thunder and lighting, before it drifted off to our east.

 

  About 8:30 or so, we were still enjoying another respite in between the storms.  However, I was beginning to wonder about the new dimensions of a 20 foot mud bog we had to bust through in order to get back in to reach the selected camp.  We made it in ....... but now, after an inch or so of rain during the afternoon ....... hmmmm.  I hiked down to the forest road and from what I saw, the road looked like it was draining well.  Still, I was a little nervous because past experience has taught me that mud bogs containing water before the storm often expand exponentially with an influx of rain.  Oh, well, I thought, we'll cross that bridge tomorrow.  (Might have to build one, too.)

 That night - after it got good and dark around 10P or so, a new set of storms rolled in and had both of us hunkered down in the tent, from which we had a pretty good vanatage point to watch an impressive show of lighting.  

   

 

Just before the rains really started again, we had to endure a powerful blast of wind as the front came through.  This is not a good time to start thinking that "gee, maybe I should have anchored that rain fly down a little tighter".  While Kath appeared to be more worried about getting struck by lighting, my concerns remained with the wind - and the potential for some extreme down drafts - if not tornadic weather.  I briefly thought about the merits of making a dash out to the vehicle, but the winds suddenly subsided and we were back to a plain old summer thunderstorm.  And, after another inch and a half or so of rain, things were getting mushy.  I was glad we'd picked a relatively high spot to set up camp.  The immediate camp area was apprarently draining well, and we were perched on the edge of the forest with no big trees to worry about in the blustery winds that would come and go with little notice.  This can be unnerving when you are laying in a dark tent. 

 

Eventually, the storms passed - but not before I was lulled to sleep as thunder rumbled in the distance.  Surprisingly, the temps held pretty good overnight and we awoke to an absolutely stellar summer morning, deep in the Pennsylvania woods.  The sky was spotted with large, puffy cumulous couds, and we enjoyed a light breeze that continually wafted different scents through camp.  We enjoyed our morning coffee staring out across the valley and up onto the opposite ridge line.  Soon, my attention fell back to my immediate surroundings and I enjoyed an excersize in looking closer at the smaller things surrounding us.

 

      

 

Just inside the treeline behind our tent, the woods were thick with ferns.  If you proceed carefully, you can pick out a deer trail and negotiate your way back in without causing a lot of damage.  And, the change from open skies and long views out from a ridge top meadow offer a stark contrast when you step into the shade of multi-hued greens that you are immersed in when entering the woods.   I took many pictures of these ferns, but none seem to capture the environment that we enjoyed in person. 

 

 

 

It was hard to go home.

 

 

Struechen Flats – Elk Creek, which has its headwaters just a tad northeast of the Sweet Spot, quickly builds itself into a good size gorge as it cuts its way through the I-90 ridge on its way to Lake Erie, discharging just west of Lake City.

It’s more than just another crick – this is a full creek.  A little light on volume in normal times, if it rains, watch out!  But, I wouldn’t say yakking is this terrain’s forte.  When flushed with heavy rains, it is very runnable, but you'll need to be constantly alert and working the boat.

  Here's a strainer that would be buried just under the surface at higher water levels. 

Mountain biking seems to offer the most fun use of this terrain.  I’ve been riding various sections of the valley and gorge that Elk Crk. has cut over time.  I found out about the then truly “single track” trails in the section of the gorge between Rt. 90 and Rt. 20 in 1978 or ‘79 from a buddy that had gotten me into riding dirt bikes.  By ’81, I’d given up on trying to install piston rings and clutches and had picked up a Ross Mt. Hood mountain bike.  I’m embarrassed to say that the acquisition of this bike was largely based on the all chrome finish more than anything else, but, it did turn out to be worthy of the thrashing I would put it through – mostly in this Girard area section of Elk Creek Gorge.

   The things you find at the bottom of a ravine!

 

Back then, 4 wheelers were non-existent and 3-wheelers were still not everywhere, thus much of the trail system that runs through and up and down the walls of the ravine and valley were true single track – mostly burned in by dirt bikes – although there were (and still are today) some sections of trail that were never ridden by a machine and are true footpaths.  This provided for all sorts of very challenging mountain bike riding – a lot of it requiring a little bit ‘o brass because the trails often flirt with the “edge”.  From a biking perspective it was very challenging to be addressing huge climbs and extreme fall line descents that were cut because the original riders had power and weight to apply when needed.  Some climbs in this section, I believe, still have not been conquered.  However, I continue to note that erosion and time soften all trails - - eventually.

Anyway, in addition to the single track, the gorge presents literally miles of opportunity to ride in the water and along the relatively smooth slate bottom of the creek.  Many mountain bikers today are well aware of the difficulties of creek riding – but I have always enjoyed the challenge of not just safely navigating a crossing on the bike, but of getting down in the creek and capitalizing on the fact that just under 3 or 4” if water is a “natural trail” of smooth slate and bedrock.  To boot, there are at least 3 small tribs that dump into Elk Creek along this Girard section and, each has some form of waterfall with a face that –if approached boldly – can be ridden UP.  (Homemade studded tires worked quite well!)  Hint: if you are intent on riding the slimey slate bottom of your local crick, ditch the clips.This brings me back to Struechen Flats, which is along Elk Creek, mostly west of Rt. 98.  I had an opportunity to poke around in there last Thursday evening and was pleasantly reminded of the well established horse trails that web throughout the area.  Some single track, but not much.  Still the riding was almost “Asbury-like”, before they parked it up.  Good photo ops in here as well.  Park at the bottom of the dead-end access road, cross the creek right away and take your pick of trails!  Note:  this is all out and back.

 

We've managed to get our first camping expedition under our belt this weekend.   It was an extremely nice weekend of weather - although Saturday night was a little chilly.  The days were chock full of sunshine.

 

Both Saturday and Sunday evenings, we were treated to brief views of the International Space Station passing overhead.  Of course, starry skies abounded, as the area we camped in is near dead center of what is supposed to be the darkest spot in Pennsylvania.

 

Here's a couple of pics:

 

  We didn't exactly have the best horizon for the setting sun, but that didn't stop nature from turning on the footlights.  This particular camp site featured a broad an expansive view of the night sky. 

 

  Our camp site was selected for being remote and for having a verrry looong view.  At ground level, our view of the meadow stretched out for well over a half mile - and then it doglegs and runs another half mile!  There aren't many spots in this part of the forest that have such a swath.  K & I sorta think it must have been created by the ANF for the exact purpose of having an open meadow.  I spent several hours with the binoculars peering out and scanning the woodline.

 

  You don't want to get too far from the tent's light in the dark of the night!  Attempts were made to capture the passing Space Station, as well as the stars, but I failed to get the camera dialed in for that.  The moon rose late both nights and I never got it together to wake up and try and shoot it.  It was spectacular, though.  We opted to forego having a fire both nights and, while you have to dress for the dropping temps, I must say that I enjoyed not having to attend to a camp fire and being able to just sit and listen to the woods.

 

  Over the course of three days, we had not a single vehicle travel the two miles back on this dead end ANF road to pass our camp.  The road ends when the bench pulls up short and the hiker is treated to an expansive view of the Farnesworth Creek drainage.

 

  We saw deer and turkey - and heard lots of coyotes over the weekend.  But, I got most of my entertainment watching birds whirling about.  There were a dozen or more bird houses spread all along the meadow's length and this bolstered my thinking that this meadow was purpose built for the habitat inventory. 

 

  This fellow in particular was entertaining as he tried to stuff a feather in the nest box, but couldn't seem to get it through the entry while holding it horizontally. 

 

  Other than missing the NY Times, we had ample opportunity to catch up on our reading.  This trip, the Toy Box arrived without the roof rack bristling with gear.  We had the tent, a couple of chairs, and hiking boots.  Sunday afternoon's hike took us north to the end of the bench and we had quite a direct scramble down a steep slope into the valley that was cut by Farnsworth Creek. 

 

Never did get all the way down to Farnsworth, but we did come across a small feeder stream that was it's own deep woods retreat.    We found a perfectly sculpted chair rock at the base of a rockfall tumble that was covered in a luxurious thick pad of moss.  Would have been a good place to nap with a camera at the ready.

 

Monday morning came all too quickly but started out with a blurry eyed peep to a big black spot about 50 yards away, ambling along the tire tracks towards us.  Turned out to be a tom turkey parading around.  When he heard the zipper on the tent ... the show was over.  No pics.  We lolly-gagged around, and enjoyed another killer breakfast in the backcountry.  K even has the skills to deliver eggs over easy - not always a given in a camp environment.  We packed up around noon and joined the exodus down out of the woods and back to Rt. 62.  There was a spirited game of cow counting on the way back and, 75 miles later, we were home and K has now won 2 games in a row.  I'm crushed.

This evening (Friday), K & I kept pretty busy packing up our gear for spending a couple of nights in the Allegheny Nat'l Forest.  Shortly after sunset, just as the stars were popping out, we had a pack of coyotes down in the valley go off in a major, extended howl.

 

A few minutes later, we were treated to an overhead pass of the Int'l Space Station.  It was viewable for about 5 minutes - and certainly was not a plane.  Here's a pic (but not very good):

 

Popped into the Asbury Woods trails last Thursday and, I'm pleased to report that there is still plenty of fun to be found.  Over the last few years, I've groused a bit about the trail network getting pretty homogenized (sp?) - and it has.  There are vast stretches of what was formerly single track that has been groomed and barked and graveled until all the zip has been smoothed out of it.  On the other hand, there is strong evidence that the next generation of riders is diligently working to expand the trail network into the "next little stretch" beyond the perimeter.  This is pretty evident at the far eastern edge of the Preserve's official land holdings (best accessed from Brown's Farm).  The California boys continue to post new lines that amaze me and there are some really technical lines being ridden back in there.  There's also a short but visually scary new trail running along a dead end knife-edge bench near buttermilk falls that had me walking and wonderin' if these boys weren't wearing wings.  It's easy enough to get up and onto the knife, but there are a couple of trees that will really test the rider's ability to keep tread contact as you scoot around the edge.  With additional erosion, the roots will be deal breakers.  The exit off the ridge will have you sitting waaay back, but it's doable.  At the bottom is a short connector that's tucked in between the sidewalls of this mini-ravine and brings you right back out onto the "regular", but still not official part of the trail system.

 

 

We also crossed over the bridge and did a little plebian cruising on the north side trails, all of which are getting a little smooth.  Still it was good to see that there is little trash and the trails are obviously being used by all sorts of people.  We climbed up and out, passing through the picnic pavilion and snuck around behind the maintenance building.  I was surprised to observe a modest "trash" pile in the weeds on the north side of the shed.  Nothing majorly ugly, but somehow I don't think it melds well with the Preserve's environmental focus.  It's pretty typical "maintenance man" detritus:  old metal; rusting playground equipment; leftover sections of drainage pipe, concrete blocks, etc.  Even if most of it was simply stacked up, it would look a lot better than what it is: dumped in the edge of the woods. 

 

We cruised across the road and took a closer look at the new Nature Center building.  I’m in awe of what a fine teaching tool they've created.  The earthen roof with all the vegetation is well established and the whole system seems to be working well.  It’s a gem of a facility.

 

yup, the mountain bike has been given an annual update/overhaul.  (props to the Scottman for the new Power Grips!)

 

we're still working hard to come up with a machine that might facilitate opening the ski trails up - without annoying the neighbors with the whine of a snowmobile.  i did find an interestilng machine called a Larven that was made in Sweden in the 70's.  it is basically all track and the driver wears skis to steer it around.  it is also narrow, which is desireable for snaking through tight trees.  problem is, it's an antique and, a collector's item in the snowmobile community.

 

lately, i've been interested in the ktrak cycle mod kit (www.ktrakcycle.com) which gives you a tracked rear wheel assembly for dealing with snow.  still, there are grave concerns about the ability to get around and up and down in heavy snow.  that concern has led me to look for electric powered bikes.  and i found one that looks very interesting: the Optibike.  Li-ion battery powered, it is reported to have lots of juice available and, it features the most unique application for applying power to the wheels: this bike has power delivered to the bottom bracket, allowing the bike to retain full function of all the normal gearing.  that's a huge advantage if you want to climb steep terrain.  check out this video:

 

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now, if you can get an electric powered bike with that kind of moxy - and then retro-fit the ktrak cycle rear trak drive, there just might be something to do the job.  unfortunately, i'll need an inheritance to afford this gear. 

 

There's snow in the forecast, but too little and too late.  The skis are already up in the rafters and the mountain bike is on the stand getting an overhaul.

 

Locally, the woods are filling in quickly with budding leaves.  Soon, they will shut out not only peering eyes, but also the sunlight that is necessary for the huge variety of wild flowers that are currently all over the woods.

 

Over the weekend, K scored a big connection with another key landowner upon which the Sweet Spot's trails are laid.  Atta Girl!