C
Chuck W
Guest
Ever find yourself stopped in the middle of a trail, heart
in your throat, asking yourself that question? Happened to
me yesterday. I'm out on the trails in my local woodland
park, where the folks that run the place have just finished
a series of controlled burns to clear out underbrush (which
means nothing smaller than baby green trees is left). Up
over a small rise I go, plenty of speed because I've ridden
this trail a hundred times, and I know it cuts to a
lowering straight-away on the other side. I top the rise,
only to find myself about 20 feet from an eight-inch log
lying across the path, held several inches aloft by debris
at the sides.
Now's a good time to cover what little skill I've developed
on a mountain bike. I can wheelie a little bit. I can bunny
hop a little bit. When I say a little bit, I mean I can
reliably get up onto a curb without bumping a wheel, but
that's about it. Never even tried anything higher than six
or seven inches. So here I am careening at this foot-tall
plus monster, way to fast to bump over it. I squat, lift,
and jerk, bunnyhop style, for all I'm worth, hoping to at
least wreck without a log in the way. I didn't even touch
the log. I was so surprised, I hit the brakes, stopped, got
off the see what I broke. The landing was so smooth
,something had to be broken. Nothing.
I'll probably never pull it off so sweet again. Now all I
need is a rabid dog to chase me down the trails or
something.
-Chuck Wiley
in your throat, asking yourself that question? Happened to
me yesterday. I'm out on the trails in my local woodland
park, where the folks that run the place have just finished
a series of controlled burns to clear out underbrush (which
means nothing smaller than baby green trees is left). Up
over a small rise I go, plenty of speed because I've ridden
this trail a hundred times, and I know it cuts to a
lowering straight-away on the other side. I top the rise,
only to find myself about 20 feet from an eight-inch log
lying across the path, held several inches aloft by debris
at the sides.
Now's a good time to cover what little skill I've developed
on a mountain bike. I can wheelie a little bit. I can bunny
hop a little bit. When I say a little bit, I mean I can
reliably get up onto a curb without bumping a wheel, but
that's about it. Never even tried anything higher than six
or seven inches. So here I am careening at this foot-tall
plus monster, way to fast to bump over it. I squat, lift,
and jerk, bunnyhop style, for all I'm worth, hoping to at
least wreck without a log in the way. I didn't even touch
the log. I was so surprised, I hit the brakes, stopped, got
off the see what I broke. The landing was so smooth
,something had to be broken. Nothing.
I'll probably never pull it off so sweet again. Now all I
need is a rabid dog to chase me down the trails or
something.
-Chuck Wiley