East coast mountain biking is very different from cycling on the western slope of the Rockies. As you know, I’m from Colorado. In the west, the trails are smooth, fast
and sunny. The biggest challenge is holding your breakfast in on the way up and
holding on for dear life on the way down. Not so for the east coast. Here, you
need to make sure that pieces of the bike don’t rattle loose as you bounce your way down
the trail. And by trail, I mean a swath of roots and rocks that somehow a bunch
of bikers all decided to ride down. How they came to that decision I don’t
know. When it is dry, it is a challenge just making out the terrain features as
you fly in and out from shade to complete darkness. When it is wet, or gasp,
humid, it is a whole other ballgame – you have to fight the fog, roots, mud,
leaves, and rocks for purchase. I can tell you how that fight usually goes.
But beyond all of the differences, there is something really
incredible about nailing your first technical uphill and pinning your first
tight, flat corner. There is also nothing better than figuring out the quick
rhythm of eastern biking, where you can either connect loop after loop for an
all-day ride filled with rope swing stops, or catch one of those loops for an
hour study break. Once I switched to a lighter pair of Ryder sunglass lenses and could
differentiate between forest and trail, the world of east coast biking has been
the best type of study break rush ever.
