A couple good days on the bike

Got out for a great ride on Friday with my Dad, who to many is known simply as Boogie. It stems from his days as a freestyle ski coach back in the 70's and 80's, and rumor has it it was based upon his prowess on the dance floor, although I think it is more to do with the way he skis. But this isn't about skiing this was about a ride.

My Dad was the one the got me into cycling, although not the way you might expect. It was my grandfather that bought me my first bike and my second bike (which I still own, a Columbia three speed), but it was photographs that my Dad had taken of a crit in Aspen, a photo of John Howard. He had on one of those cool hairnet "helmets" and was banked hard into a corner. The show was taken with a slow enough shutter speed that as my Dad panned with the action the back ground blurred but the racer was in focus. That shot was on the wall and I looked at it every day. I used to push a tricycle around like a scooter on this "dirt track" I had built in my parents garden when I was four and pretend I was that guy on the wall. When I would get bored with that I would go back to digging my hole to China, never made it.

My Dad rode a bunch before I was born, but cycling wasn't something he and I shared until I was working in a bike shop in Burlington, VT. Then he got back into the sport in a major way. He had picked up a mountain bike before that from Sunday River one summer but never really rode it that much, but when he got into road riding again he got bit by the bug. That was the only way I could get my parents to come visit me, bribe my Dad with sweet deals on choice bike parts! I'll never forget the day he came to pick up his red De Rosa Primato with Campy Record- that is still a sweeeeeeet bike.

Anyway he had traded his bikes for computers and camera equipment in the past couple of years (not literally as us Cole's have a tendency to keep all our gear, it just gets put in the back for awhile). I'd been bugging him for awhile to get out and ride in the woods to help re-acquaint myself with the local trails (there are a ton of snowmobile trails and old logging roads- but not much in the way of what I would think of as buff single track- but still you take what you can get!). I finally got him out on Friday and we were set to go for a short ride, well it was anything but short!

We headed out behind his house and started with a powerline and that was a good warm up, we then found a logging road that went straight uphill, so we tried that. We got to a section that just wasn't ridable, but we were confident that if we just kept pushing on we would eventually find clear trail again, and we did. Onto another powerline that just stretched as far as you could see. The best part of powerlines- the wet spots. There were plenty and every once in awhile I would hear Dad express his joy for the muck holes out on the trail.



We finally made it off the powerline and hit Monk Road, and from there jumped onto another snowmobile type trail, it took us to a pond (Little Moose) and then we looked for an old connecting trail, which we found along with the bridge we needed- it looked safe so off we went.


It was cool to just be cruising the woods, nothing technical, but with the fall colors that was good as it gave me plenty of opportunity to see the surroundings. We came across a few small ponds and some new beaver ponds and plenty of great riding (and plenty of climbing!). Now I just need to see if I can remember this route the next time I head out!



The comical part was at the end of the ride we had one more steep pitch to ride on a paved road, we had been out for over three hours so my Dad's legs were cooked- so I was pushing him up the hill, I gave him one last shove and then heard a car coming so I fell back inline. The car went by and hit the brakes- it was the owner of the local ski shop and the rep from Rossignol (the two guys who take care of all my Dad's wintertime gear needs)- and they were chatting about how great it was that my Dad was out hammering on the young guys and keeping fit for the season. I bit my lip and didn't let on it was his first real ride of the year and that ten seconds ago I was pushing the old man up the hill (he's in his 60's so I'll cut him some slack)- after they left and were out of view he was looking for another push!

It was a great ride, and I can't wait to do it again.


DEA