Monday, May 13, 2013

Monday, May 13, 2013

Conditions: Very Good
95% open, Middle Ravine Trail closed

As of yesterday, some of sections of Green Trail were wet, but not particularly muddy. Some water will likely persist into today and then dry out in fairly short order. No concerns about riding, though, but if you encounter water the best practice is to ride through the middle of it
ensuring that the trails will not widen. It is a chilly start to the week, but conditions promise to turn summery again in a couple days. Have a great week!

Friday, May 10, 2013

Friday, May 10th


Conditions: Very good to Excellent
95% open, Middle Ravine Trail closed

Some showers passed through the valley bringing an end to an incredible two and a half week of dry weather that pushed us forward into summer conditions. The moisture is a welcome reprieve tamping down the dirt that otherwise was turning loose and dusty. Enjoy the weekend! 

Monday, March 5, 2012

"Race" is an inadequate Description

Dana and Peter, carpenter and grounds manager respectively, planted some tree stumps in the sandy and mercifully shallow riverbed, connected them with some long planks and widened its berth by screwing on some plywood,  all in the midst of the second most prolific snowstorm of the season. It held its own for several hundred crossings just fine. And sometime in the wee hours of the morning before the main snowshoe marathon, Death Racers created a nicely sculpted ramp climbing four feet to the top of the bank easing the way for the major part of the field who would start in a few hours. Hundred mile snow shoe participants commenced hours before this, but were capable of absorbing the added adversity. It was a comparative sliver in the range of difficulties they faced.

I set out to design the course with the aim of packing the most adventure that I could in a six and a half mile loop. (I had to guess at the mileage at first. Even with all the crazy athletes in town, no one seemed to own a hand held GPS.) So I utilized my thorough knowledge of the terrain to exploit bushwacks, impossibly steep forest roads, treacherous technical terrain until I had what I had in my mind something that would feel like an accomplishment whether a person was completing one lap or fifteen.

One of the last minute entrants to the 100 mile snowshoe epic was a thin, preternaturally chipper Bodhisattva of the ultra world named Courtenay. It's become de riguer for him to traipse into our races with little to no fanfare, and traipse out of them not only winning but demolishing the field. Not only dominating the race, but rounding his last laps as if the summit cabin were the temple at the foot of Nirvana. Half of the field of ten dropped before the halfway point. Only two or three even managed to finish the race.

The Race Director Andy Weinberg, who could've done just as well as ringmaster for a circus, somehow managed three separate races at the same time. It was the third edition of the Winter Death Race, a decidedly less formal race than it summer counterpart, but no less brutal. Prospective Death Racers are coming to utilize the event as a proving ground before the main event in the summer. I didn't follow it that closely, but it was mainly an affair of chopping cords of wood interspersed with mega sets of burpees, punctuated with hot yoga and running said wood all over Pittsfield and to the cabin at the 1800 foot summit. We won't want for warmth the rest of the winter here on the farm.

To make things even more bizarre Andy and Joe Desena pulled me over for an impromptu video taped interview. According to the interview,  I live in a cave in the woods, feasting on porcupines and bartering while working on fifty miles of trails incessantly. Only slight exaggerations.

I drowsily noted the end of the race as several delirious competitors wandered into the barn at two in the morning, thirty hours from the start. A farm hand offered them uncooked ramen and sausage and a cot by the hearth. In my mind, the passing of these events always means spring is coming. And so it appears with the first foray with fifty degrees this week, and a meltdown of sorts which will lead to bare trail to be baked into rideability. Then the real fun begins.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Tick, tick, tick...

What was our annual snowshoe race up against this year? I hiked the trails last week to check their condition, and frankly because I needed the respite. For a significant stretch of the way up to the top the trails were covered with glass ice dusted with just enough snow to mask where it was the slickest. I spent the first several months of this winter as a snowmaker at a ski resort, meaning I spent the day briskly walking down frequently icy slopes hardly falling at all. My balance was honed almost to mountain goat standards. But on the way up and down The Green Mountain Trails that day,  I fell no less than ten times.

Some of my faltering was minor. I'm still feeling occasional aches from my most dramatic slip up. My feet slid forward until I lost all purchase, went momentarily airborne, and fell flat on my back: A perfectly executed Charlie Brown that knocked the wind out of me.

So I was all too happy to see warm temps and rain by midweek. Bare trails and frozen mud would be preferable to this, much preferable. Then nature set to work resurfacing the trails, first with a couple inches of sleety snow, then several more powdery inches a day later. An impending storm midweek will determine just how lucky we are. Could be upwards of six inches, even a foot, which would be damn lucky. Could be rain or a slushy mixture which would restore the hellacious crust that has been de rigueur this year. There are no sure things this winter (or ever, really).  Then there's the matter of getting across the river as our bridge was swept away by Irene and has yet to be replaced. We'll pull it off. We always do. But, oh man....

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

6/12/24 via 666

If you're particularly observant, you'll notice there's been a change to the "events" page very recently. The 666 race, while maintaining the same gonzo spirit, has been altered numerically to 6/12/24. In the spirit of being an ultra-endurance destination, we thought it was time to step up our mountain bike race to the same level of challenge as our 100 mile snowshoe race, 100- 500 mile trail run, and most notoriously of all, The Death Race, which has received so much attention lately that its being adapted into a reality program on cable called "Unbreakable."

So the six hour race that was the standard is now the entry level. Accordingly there are twelve and now a twenty four hour option. I've ran ultra-endurance races before, and I still don't know how to best prepare for those sorts of incredible durations of physical strain. Besides putting in the miles, intelligently, taking measures to avoid injury; peaking at the right time; and conditioning my mind to keep moving forward and embrace each step; I can't put together a full proof plan. A lot can happen in 24 hours.

And this is why we're planning so intently now. 24 hours on a mountain bike over challenging terrain is a big commitment. No doubt about it. It will be everything you expect from a Peak Race. All nighters around the bonfire, an Amee Farm pig roasting on the spit. By the way, in addition to being an extreme endurance event, this will be extremely locavore. We estimate the average 24 hour participant will travel about 50,000 times the distance that the pig will. Its not too early to register www.peakraces.com.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Sisyphus Lives in Pittsfield

I don’t know what started it, exactly, this fascination with dragging random cumbersome objects to the mountaintop cabin. When I first arrived here over two years ago, it was an eighty pound wagon wheel, which, as an unorthodox workout regimen, the owner, and ultra endurance race fanatic, lugged several miles from his lovely farm up steep forest roads one thousand vertical feet to the top. Now, his financial intern, who spent a significant proportion of the first term of his education yanking weeds from said farm, had to take it back down.
The two young farmers, who had been running the Appalachian Trail before inheriting the responsibility of running the farm, padlocked his Specialized Rockhopper to the barn rafters. The key was attached to the wheel in such a way that the intern had to retrieve the wheel from the summit to unlock his steed. He got it down, freed his bike, good natured laughs were shared all around. About a week later, as I was buffing Noodle’s Revenge, a different intern was a few switchbacks above me, struggling and bumbling with the same wheel. He asked for help and we got it back to its original spot. 
A month later, a bikram yoga instructor and the female farmer got into the spirit of things, rolling a six foot wooden wire spool through town, and up a dirt road, managing to make it half way up the mountain. A couple of months after that, the US olympic wrestling team, in town for a Death Race camp style training session, were compelled to roll it the rest of the way to the top, by far the steepest section. 
And there it remained for the last two years (It did make a decent table for race aid stations) until the latest DR campers wheeled it back down, and replaced it with a five foot truck tire and two fifty pound sand bags. Exasperated I walked to the cabin to survey the damage, pulled a dagger stuck in the cabin door, and could not find the tire, though it should’ve been obvious. 
I found it finally, laying off the side of Luvin It next to a set of confused tire prints and even more perplexing footprints. I gave it a good yank and in a huff, decided to let it roll to the bottom until a vision of my folly thankfully got the best of me. Maybe if I wish for it loud enough, next time someone will decide to carry up something equally burdensome, but infinitely more useful, like some nice adirondack chairs. 

Monday, February 6, 2012

Fresh Shoots

With the trails looking (and feeling, ouch!) like a gigantic network of luge runs, its hard to imagine that we’ve turned the corner and spring will soon arrive...even if it seems that winter, a good, hard Vermont winter anyway, decided not to show. Normally we’d be in the thick of snowshoe season, but so far, not a shoer in sight and its easy to see why. 
I was happy to get out there in the beginning of the month with my new razor toothed hand saw cutting limbs and clearing out widow makers. The mild winter, assuming it stays that way, will almost certainly shorten the mud season and I’m predicting we’ll be open for mountain biking in the beginning of May if not earlier. 
And this spring the idea of renewal will be a whole lot more profound. We were hard at work rejuvenating the trails after significant storm damage and as of last autumn, we are completely back! A one of a kind trail bridge is in the works to cross Tweed River (at the present moment, we’re using a makeshift, but safe, ibeam bridge) after losing the old one to Irene. I’m not going to say anymore than that. I promise to give you full details as things develop, but I’m going to let it be a surprise for now. 
An upstart handmade bike manufacturer,  Xprezo bikes, has partnered with Green Mountain Bikes and MTBVT.COM  and tentatively plan to run demos on our trails come spring. They’re our neighbors in Quebec and we’re excited to showcase their bikes. Their steeds look incredibly buff and they’ll also be featured at the 666 mountain bike race this year. Can’t wait!